“You’ve been taking too many lessons from your Aunt Ethel,” commented Jackie as she clung to the door handle.
Chapter 12
My phone rang just as Jackie and I entered the apartment. “Hello?”
“Mel, it’s Jack.”
Jack? Since when did he make personal calls.
“Look, normally I don’t get involved in cases like this, but you and Greg got me all curious about Allison Farlow’s murder.
“Earlier today an officer carried a box of her personal effects to the evidence locker, but he dropped it and the contents spilled all over the place. Anyway, I helped him pick it up and among everything was a key. This key has no label, no number, nothing indicating what it goes to.
“Since you are investigating her murder, I thought it might be something you’re interested in.”
A mysterious key? Of course, I’m interested. “Is there any way you can get it?”
“Not without raising a lot of red flags,” said Jack. “If you want it, you’ll need someone capable of breaking in here to get it.”
That could be a problem. “Okay. Thanks.”
“What’s up?” asked Jackie taking a swig from her water bottle.
“I need to break into the police station evidence locker,” I said.
Water sprayed the room as Jackie spat out the contents of her mouth. “You might want to rethink this. Some states consider such a thing a felony.”
I hung my head. She was right and this went beyond the other things I’ve done. “Tiny,” I blurted out.
“Tiny?”
“Yeah. He lives outside the law. Maybe he knows someone who could get the key.”
“What is so important about this key?” asked Jackie placing her hands on her hips.
“Jack said it was unusual. It’s important. I know it is, but it’s just sitting in some box at the station.”
“I don’t know what you’re thinking,” said Jackie, “But as long as it doesn’t involve you or me breaking into the police department, I don’t care.”
“I promise you won’t go down there,” I said holding up my right hand.
Jackie eyed me suspiciously and headed for the kitchen.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Tiny. He answered on the first ring. “Hey, you know how you said I should bring you along the next time I want to break in someplace? Well, now’s your chance.”
“Yeah. What do ya need to get into?” asked Tiny.
“The evidence locker in the police station.”
A series of coughs filled the other end. “Damn, Mel, you got balls.”
“I really need to get in there. There is a piece of evidence locked up that the cops are ignoring, but I know it will help solve that woman’s murder.”
Okay, so I played that part up a bit, but it had the desired effect. I knew it worked as Tiny paused thinking about my request.
“I know just the man for the job. Meet me down there in half an hour.”
I hung up. “Hey, Jackie, I’ll be back in a bit.” I dashed out the door.
“Mel? You are not going down there!”
“It’ll be fine,” I said as I ran down the hallway.
“I am not posting your bail,” she shouted after me as I headed for the stairs.
Well, I didn’t promise that I wouldn’t go down there.
I found Tiny’s bike easily as I parked my car. He had parked away from the street lamp so no one would notice us talking. A tall, lean man waited with him.
“Mel, meet Sticky,” said Tiny as I pulled up.
“Sticky?”
“Yep. Anyone who gets too close to him finds the items in their pockets missing.”
This sounded promising. “Are you sure you can do this?” I asked.
Tiny laughed. “Sticky here once broke into a bank vault without getting caught. He ran off with a bunch of stocks and bonds. He mailed them back to the bank weeks later with an apology note.”
“Good times,” muttered Sticky. “Nice to meet you, Mel. You dropped these.” He held my keys out to me. I hadn’t even noticed them missing.
I swiped them out of his hands as he released a loud laugh.
“So you need to break into the police lockup?” said Sticky. He pulled a cap out of his back pocket and put it on containing some of his wild hair. Next he grabbed a pizza box from the back of his bike. “Well, let’s get started.”
I followed Sticky inside the police station. Only the main lights in the lobby were on and one person at the front desk; who busied himself with paperwork. Quietly, we stepped through the entrance. Sticky steered me toward the stairwell that led to the basement where the evidence locker was. The guy at the desk never looked up.
With haste, we hurried down the steps. As Sticky guided me through the door and to the desk I got the feeling that he had done this before. He pushed me down behind some cluttered shelves as he swaggered up to the desk with the pizza box in his hand.
“Good evening, sir,” he greeted. “I have a delivery for a Mr.…Daggert.”
“Well that’s my name, but I didn’t order any pizza,” said the guy at the desk.
“Are you certain?” said Sticky. He opened the pizza box and waved the tantalizing aroma under his nose. “A large pepperoni with extra cheese.”
The cop leaned forward taking in the delicious smell of the pizza. “Well, I don’t remember ordering a pizza.”
Sticky waved me forward with a key in his hand. Staying out of sight, I crept up to him. Staying on my hands and knees I snatched the key and went to the door.
“Well, this slip here says that I was to deliver it to you in thirty minutes.”
“But I never—”
“I’ll tell you what,” said Sticky, “I don’t need to be back for a bit and this will just be tossed if I take it back. How about we just eat it right now?”
“I don’t know about that.”
“There’s no one down here.” Sticky placed the pizza under the guy’s nose again.
“Sure.” He stood up and stepped over to the door of his little office. Letting himself out, he and Sticky sat down on the ground with the pizza.
I seized my chance and let myself into the back room where all of the boxes of evidence were kept. Quickly, I rifled through the boxes on shelves to determine the cataloging system. Alphabetical. Good.
I scanned through the boxes moving quickly down the shelves. Farlow. Allison Farlow. Nothing. Then I remembered that around town she had been known as Allison Warkins. I made my way to the W section. Found it.
Glancing around for any signs of being discovered, I snatched the box placing it on the nearest table. I tore off the lid and rifled through it looking for the key that Jack had mentioned. There!
I picked it up. It had a tag attached to it with a number. Studying the small key, it looked old and tarnished. I shoved it in my pocket, rammed the lid back on the box, and placed it on the shelf. Stealthily, I hurried out of the room.
Cautiously, I opened the door a crack peeking through. Laughter on the other side indicated that the guy at the desk was still occupied. Slipping through the door, I locked it and placed the guard’s keys back on the counter before dashing behind some shelves.
Sticky noticed my movements. “Oh, I better be getting back,” he yawned and stretched.
“So soon?”
“Yeah, sorry. But keep the pizza.”
“Hey, it was nice talking to you,” said the officer. “So few people come down here just to chat.”
“Anytime. You take care now.”
Sticky strolled past me grabbing my arm and hauling me to the stairs. We made our way to the main floor. He took a quick peek to make certain the lobby was still empty. Satisfied that no one had noticed our presence, Sticky pushed me through the glass doors and into the night air.
“Did you get it?” asked Tiny as we approached.
“Got it,” I said holding up the key. “Now I just need to know where it goes.”
Tiny took the key an
d fiddled with it a bit. “Not to any lock I’m aware of.”
“Safety deposit box,” suggested Sticky.
“No,” said Tiny. “Wrong size and besides, safety deposit boxes require too much identification for someone wanting to keep a low profile.” He handed the key back to me. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Just ask people where her favorite haunts were.”
“Thanks guys,” I said.
“No problem,” said Sticky, tilting his hat toward me. “Nice to know my unique talents are being put to good use.”
“Good use is right,” chuckled Tiny. “We should go before Mel here finds something else for us to do, that involves going around the law.”
We said our farewells and I eagerly got in my car and headed home. I had exams to study for.
Chapter 13
I stared at the exam sitting before me on my desk; my mind a pile of slush as I tried desperately to remember my notes. Why do midterms have to be so hard? Especially essay exams.
Getting my bullshit-a-meter out, I started writing confident that I was not the only one trying to smooth talk, or in this case write, my way out of this. My pen flew over the paper as I wrote everything I could remember.
Remember the notes, I repeated to myself. I thought about the key in my pocket and its markings. Allison volunteered at the church. People there loved her. She spent much of her time there when not working her day job.
The money disappeared. No one knew where it was, but it had to be close for her to have access to it. If I were a bank robber on the run, where would I hide the loot assuming I had forged a new identity and started a new life? A list of different places flittered through my mind.
A public storage locker say at a gym or the bus station. No, too public and the chance of someone breaking into it too great. My own home. Nope, too close if being pursued by accomplices or the police. Besides, Allison’s house showed no signs of having the money there. Work. Too busy.
It dawned on me. Where else could you hide something that people are not likely to suspect and isn’t too public.
“The church,” I shouted out loud as I jumped out of my chair. Pens dropped as all eyes focused on me. “Of course, that is where it is. It just has to be.”
“Where what is, Miss Summers?” asked my professor.
I gathered up my exam as I headed for the teacher’s desk. Abruptly, I shoved it into the professor’s hands.
“You’re finished?” he asked.
“No—yeah. I can’t remember anything anyway so here it is,” I rambled as I clumsily tried to zip my bag close, “Anyway, here. I have to get there before the bank robbers do.”
“Bank robbers? Miss Summers—”
“I have to go,” I said, running out the door and down the hall to the exit; all the while pulling out my phone.
“Jackie,” I said as she picked up the phone, “I need you to grab Greg and meet me at the church.”
“The church? Weren’t you barred from ever going there again?”
“I can’t worry about that right now. Look, get there ASAP. I know where the money is.” I shut my phone. Once at my car I threw my stuff in there and hopped behind the wheel. Within moments I had pulled onto the road and headed for the church.
Jackie and Greg pulled in the parking lot just as I did. We parked side by side.
“What’s up?” asked Greg as he got out of the car.
“Follow me,” I said. I dashed to the front steps of the church.
“Mel,” said Jackie, “What if people are here?”
“At this time in the morning,” I said. “No one will be there.”
“How do you know?” asked Jackie.
“I read the bulletin at Detective Shorts’.”
Cautiously, I opened the front door and peeked inside the dark interior. No lights were on. Good. Motioning for them to follow, I went inside and darted to the right where the steps leading to the choir loft were. Taking them two at a time, my feet made soft thumps. Jackie and Greg followed.
“Mel,” I clamped my hand over her mouth and pulled her down behind some chairs as the sound of a door echoed through the empty building.
“Is anyone coming?” I whispered to Greg.
He crawled over to the railing and peered down. “Clear,” he said making his way back to me. “Now what is this all about?”
“Allison Farlow spent a lot of her time here, right?” I said. “And she used to direct the choir from time to time.”
“So?” said Greg.
“What if she hid the money here?” I said.
“Are you serious?” asked Greg.
“Think about it,” I said, “Where else is the most perfect place to hide a pile of cash. This building is old and is bound to have a lot of nooks and crannies. Churches are notoriously broke. If I were her, this is where I would hide it.”
“But up here?” asked Jackie.
“As director of the choir, she would spend a lot of time up here. No one would question it. Check for a panel—anything.”
“And if we find nothing?” asked Greg.
“Then we will have to search elsewhere. If we find the money then we will call Detective Shorts. At least then the murderers won’t be able to get it.”
We crawled around the choir loft looking for anything out of the ordinary. Amidst the chairs, organ, tables, and stands I found nothing. My fingers brushed the rough fibers of the factory carpet as I searched for a loose section. Still nothing.
Jackie whistled softly. “Over here,” she whispered.
I hurried to her.
“Look.” She shifted a wheeled platform stacked with chairs. Behind it was a hidden panel. Carefully, I lifted the catch. It popped as I removed it from the wall revealing a hole behind it. A narrow ladder led upward to another room.
“An attic?” asked Jackie.
“Perhaps,” I said. “Come on.”
“Wait a moment,” said Greg. “You don’t know what’s up there.”
“There is only one way to find out,” I replied, “You stay down here and keep watch. Jackie and I will go up.”
“Alright,” Greg agreed.
I squeezed through the opening grasping the rungs of the ladder and heaving myself upward. The narrow opening combined with mountains of dust made movement difficult.
Jackie coughed. “Why would she want to come in here?”
“Because no one else would.”
I grasped the bar at the top of the ladder and hauled myself onto the floor above. Rolling on my side I made room for Jackie who did the same.
The cluttered attic made searching through it difficult. We squeezed past chests and dusty tables with ceramic lamps. Something jingled as my rump bumped a solid object.
A lone window at the far end provided the only light illuminating dust clouds as they danced around us. My leg burned as something sharp and splintered dug into it. My hands ripped open abandoned containers hoping that I was right.
“Mel, I don’t think it is here,” said Jackie.
“It’s got to be,” I said.
“Look, it was a good idea, but I don’t see Allison coming up here every time she needed a bit of cash.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I conceded.
My foot slammed into something soft. Curious, I knelt down to investigate. Reaching into the bag, I wrapped my fingers around an object and yanked it out. Cold, hard cash. I held it up for Jackie. Her eyes widened as she looked at the money in my hand.
“Dang, Mel, I take back everything I said,” she whispered, “You are the woman.”
I smiled.
“You guys okay up there?” called Greg from below.
“Yeah,” I called back. “We’re coming down.”
A thump sounded at the bottom of the ladder.
“Greg?” I hollered. “Greg?” No response. I handed the bag of money to Jackie. “Let’s go.”
She tossed it over the side allowing it to crash onto the ground. A hand reached in and took the money. I assum
ed it was Greg.
“You first,” I told Jackie. She crawled over the edge and down the ladder. Disappearing through the opening.
Carefully, I made my way down. I ended up crawling through the opening butt first, not something I would recommend. Calloused hands snatched my arms yanking me through and throwing me on the floor.
Looking around wildly, I spotted Greg lying unconscious on the floor.
Clayton leered over me and another man held onto Jackie. I assumed he was Henry Scott.
“Stupid woman,” spat Clayton, “You were warned to stay away, but chose not to listen. Though I guess I should thank you for finding the money.”
I made a move for Greg.
“No you don’t,” said Clayton pointing a gun at me. “Leave him. You two will be coming with us.”
Scott put a cloth over Jackie’s mouth. She slumped over immediately.
“What about him?” I gestured to Greg.
Clayton pointed his gun at Greg.
“No!” I rushed him. Next thing I knew, my world had gone black.
Chapter 14
I awoke with my hands and feet tied and a gag in my mouth. I lay on the floor in the back of the car while Jackie was on the seat. Her frightened eyes looked directly into mine. I remembered us being in a similar situation at the Pen Mills Estate.
The car bounced as it careened down the highway. Where were we going? I squirmed a bit trying to loosen my bounds.
“Lie still,” ordered Clayton pointing his weapon at me.
The car veered left. A grinding noise echoed around us indicating that we had pulled onto gravel. At least I wasn’t in the trunk.
Within minutes the car stopped. Clayton and Scott opened their doors getting out. Knowing what came next, I tried to think of an escape. Nothing.
The doors to the back of the car opened as each grabbed Jackie and I hauling us out. I found myself tossed over Scott’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He carried me into an old abandoned cabin.
My bottom stung as I slammed into the ground from being dropped. Clayton dumped Jackie next to me.
“Why did you bring them here?” demanded Scott.
Janet McNulty - Mellow Summers 04 - Three Little Ghosts Page 10
