Two Guys Detective Agency (humorous mystery series--book 1)

by Stephanie Bond

  “Yep.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “I’ll survive,” she said, then took another drink from her glass. “This is so kind of you.”

  He shrugged his big shoulders, displacing lots of muscle. “It’s not much.”

  “Well, it means a lot to me. I think Jarrod is still a little too young to wrestle with a lawnmower on this slope.”

  “Agreed. Consider me your lawn service for as long as you want me.”

  “That’s very sweet, but I promise I won’t take advantage of you.”

  He grinned. “Then the deal is totally off.”

  She smiled because she knew he was only teasing her. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

  “Sure.”

  “The day you found Sullivan, did you notice a file anywhere around him?”

  “You mean the file Klo is looking for?”

  “Right.”

  “No, I didn’t see anything like that.”

  “It couldn’t have been under his jacket, or somehow wound up in the ambulance?”

  “I don’t see how.”

  “Okay, thanks. And I just want to say again how grateful I am that you acted so quickly.”

  He nodded. “You’re welcome.” He handed the empty glass back to her. “Guess I’d better get this done.”

  She walked back inside just as Octavia pulled up in the minivan. A few minutes later, she came in through the garage door.

  “Hey,” Linda said.

  “Hey, yourself.” Octavia pursed her mouth and looked at her expectantly.

  “What?”

  “I see you have a new gardener.”

  “Stone is just being a good friend.”

  “Right...the man just wants to be friends.”

  “How was your day?”

  “I so noticed you changed the subject there. Frustrating, thanks for asking.” She shook her head. “I just feel like I have all the pieces where Richard’s concerned, but I can’t make them all fit.”

  Linda shrugged. “I’m pretty good at puzzles.”

  “No offense, but I’m a little brain dead now.”

  “So...just give me the big question you’re trying to answer. Act like I know nothing about this case.”

  Octavia lifted her arms in a shrug. “Where can Richard be living in the area undetected—no credit card, no phone activity, nothing?”

  “Someplace that takes only cash...or a hostel...or he broke into a home that’s for sale...or he’s staying at the YMCA.”

  “The cops checked the Y’s, the homeless shelters, and the hostels. And the campgrounds, not that Richard would be caught dead camping. And we know from when they tried to pawn the art that they’re out of cash.”

  “Unless they found a private collector to buy the art.”

  “No private collector is going to buy the art without papers and insurance. And if they went to a museum or a high end gallery, they would be reported immediately to the police. The people shady enough to do business on the black market aren’t going to pay them very much.”

  “But they could barter the art for something that’s more sellable, like jewelry.”

  “You’re right...but if that’s the case we’ll never find them.” She massaged her temples. “Okay, so what do you spend when you don’t have credit or cash?”

  “Stocks, bonds...gold?”

  “We don’t have any left,” she said in a bleak voice. “Besides, the accounts would be flagged the minute he tried to make a transaction.”

  “How about some of the virtual currencies?”

  “Good thought, but those transactions have to be backed by cash or credit cards.”

  Linda sighed. “Maybe I’m not good at this after all. Sorry— I’m not much of a world traveler. The last trip Sullivan and I took, we used points.”

  Octavia lifted her head. “What?”

  “Well, if there’s an upside of having credit cards maxed out, it’s that you get a lot of travel points. So for our anniversary, we farmed out the kids and went to the Hyatt for the weekend.”

  Octavia bumped her palm to her forehead.

  Linda squinted. “Are you okay?”

  “Get in the van. I’m driving.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “I THINK WE should call the police,” Linda said as they walked into the Marmot Hotel.

  “No way,” Octavia said. “First of all, we don’t even know he’s here. Second of all, if he is here, I want to talk to him before they do.”

  “He has a gun, sis.”

  “He’s not going to shoot me.”

  She grabbed Octavia’s arm. “You don’t know what he’s going to do. Let me call Oakley. He’ll let you talk to Richard if he’s here.”

  “Okay, if he’s here, then you can call Oakley.”

  “Could he even check into the room without you?”

  “Patsy has dark hair, everyone is always telling us how much we look alike. All they needed was my credit card number and something with my picture on it. And once they get in...everything is on points, nothing would be in his name. My credit card is maxed out, but there are lots of points to still be used.”

  They walked up to the reservations desk. “Guest Octavia Habersham?”

  The clerk tapped on the keyboard, then looked up. “Do you want me to phone Ms. Habersham’s room?”

  She had to fight to remain calm. “Oh, no thanks—I’ll call her on my cell to let her know I’m on my way.”

  “Very good, ma’am.”

  As they walked away, Linda was dialing Oakley.

  “I don’t feel well,” Octavia said. “I’m going to find a restroom.”

  “I’ll meet you right back here, and we’ll wait for Oakley, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  But as soon as she was out of earshot, she muttered, “Sorry, sis...this is something I have to do on my own.”

  She rode down to the basement and stepped off into a humid hallway. Then she used her cell phone to call the front desk of the hotel. “Yes, could you please deliver two extra towels to guest Octavia Habersham? Yes, right away. Thank you.”

  She disconnected the call and when she saw a maid coming out of laundry carrying two towels, she called the elevator car. They boarded together, and she let the maid choose a floor. Seventeen.

  “That’s my floor, too,” she said.

  When they reached the seventeenth floor, Octavia pretended to be busy in her purse until the maid alighted. She followed at a discreet distance until she could tell which room the woman was headed for.

  “Are those towels for Habersham?”

  The woman nodded.

  “Those are for me,” she said with a big smile. “Thank you so much.” She slid a tip into the woman’s hand, and waited until she’d walked away before facing the door.

  With her heart in her throat, she knocked on the door. “Housekeeping,” she said, disguising her voice. She stacked the towels in front of her face.

  This was going to be so good.

  But then the tip of a cold gun barrel was pressed against her temple. Octavia slid her gaze sideways to see the stocky blond man smiling at her. “I knew you’d lead me to him eventually.”

  The fact that he still had remnants of confetti glitter embedded in his skin was some consolation for knowing he was going to kill Richard.

  And probably her, too, dammit.

  The door opened—as usual, Richard had the worst timing. She got to enjoy a split second of gratification of sheer terror on his face when he saw it was her before being shoved inside. Glitter Guy shut the door behind them.

  “Octavia!” Patsy cried. “Oh, my God, what is this?” She cowered behind Richard.

  And great—they were both naked. Perfect. She would never be able to erase that picture from her mind. She pointed to Glitter Guy. “Ask him. He’s the one with the gun.”

  “Shut up, everyone.” He walked over to Richard and pointed the gun in his face. “Where is it?”

  Richard went cross-
eyed looking at the gun. “Where is what?”

  “You know what. I’m going to count to three.” He swung the gun until it pointed at Patsy’s head. “One...two...”

  “Richard, please!” begged Patsy. “Give him what he wants.”

  But Richard seemed oddly calm.

  Then the guy swung the gun back to her. Octavia decided it was infinitely better to have a gun against your temple than to be staring down the barrel.

  “One...two...”

  “Wait!” Richard screamed. He held up his hands. “I’ll get you what you want. Just don’t kill my wife.” Tears rolled down his face. “Please don’t kill my wife.”

  Patsy’s face went from outrage to fury when she realized the pecking order in the lineup. Octavia rolled her eyes. Didn’t the idiot realize that by not being the love of Richard’s life, she would probably live? Meanwhile, Richard had put a big, fat X on her ass if he didn’t deliver.

  “But I don’t have it here,” Richard said. “I gave it to someone for safekeeping.”

  “You mean the maid you were screwing? She’s dead.”

  Richard went totally white. “Carla is...dead?”

  “You were sleeping with your maid, too?” Patsy screamed.

  “Shut up,” the man said. “Richard, I talked to Carla before she died. She said she gave it back to you.”

  Octavia mentally retracted all the horrible things she’d ever said about Carla. The woman had protected her in the end.

  Richard was shaking his head. She could tell his mind was racing over how he was going to get out of this.

  A loud bang sounded on the door. “Police, open up!”

  Octavia winced. This wasn’t going to end well.

  Meanwhile, her arms were tired of holding up the towels—her personal trainer would not be happy with her.

  The man grabbed her in a choke hold, towels and all, and dragged her to the door. She could barely breathe.

  “I’m coming out with a hostage,” the man said. “Don’t shoot and she lives.”

  “Open the door,” he hissed into her ear.

  She used her free hand to claw at the door handle. She turned it and slowly opened the door. On the other side of the threshold, Oakley Hall was holding a gun pointed at the man.

  “Put the gun down and get back!” the man shouted.

  Oakley did, slowly. As soon as the opening was big enough for both of them to fit through, the gunman half-pulled and half-dragged her down the hall to the elevator. When they got inside, he stabbed at the lobby button, then tightened his hold on her. “No little brats around to save you today.”

  “No,” she croaked.

  When the door opened, she made her move. She pretended to faint and went totally limp. She prayed he’d decide she was too cumbersome as a body shield and just leave her on the floor.

  He did.

  She opened her eyes in time to see him shot dead as soon as he stepped off the elevator.

  When he fell, his face was turned toward her, his eyes open and vacant, the glitter on his skin macabre.

  She scrambled up and was pulled off the elevator by the uniformed cop who’d killed the gunman. His badge read ‘M. Jacobson.’ “Are you alright, ma’am?”

  She nodded, because her teeth were chattering now. She stepped over the body of the gunman and hung back until Oakley arrived with Richard and Patsy in tow, now dressed, and now in handcuffs. Richard looked like a broken man.

  “Can I please talk to my wife before you take me away?” he asked.

  Oakley looked to her for permission, and she nodded. The detective walked out of earshot with Patsy to give them some privacy.

  “Listen to me, Octavia.” Richard said. “I’m in deep with some really bad men. The only thing that can save me is a padded envelope I gave to Carla. Find that envelope. And when you do, don’t tell anyone, don’t trust anyone. This is bigger than you know. And the police are in on it, too.” His eyes beseeched her. “I’m so, so sorry. Please don’t hate me.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him she had the envelope, but Oakley was back.

  “Time to go,” he said.

  “Remember what I said,” Richard begged her.

  “Octavia!”

  She turned to see Linda running toward her. They embraced and Linda squeezed her tight. Octavia didn’t want to ever let go.

  Finally, Linda pulled back. “You took ten years off my life. Don’t ever do something like that again.” Then she smiled. “By yourself.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “SO UNCLE RICHARD is going to jail?” Maggie asked, fluffing up a white carnation made out of Kleenex tissue.

  They were having a carnation-making party around the kitchen table with the remaining boxes of tissue.

  “For the time being,” Linda said.

  “Will he see grandpa?” Jarrod asked.

  Linda exchanged a glance with Octavia, and they both burst out laughing. What a family tree.

  Linda twisted wire around a fan-folded tissue and handed it off to Jarrod. He tore off the edges so Octavia could pull the petals apart, and Maggie could do the final fluffing.

  She watched Octavia interacting with her kids and her heart swelled. Only she knew how heartbroken and humiliated Octavia was by Richard’s actions. A few nights since the arrest she had come to the kitchen for a late night drink of water and heard Octavia softly crying on the futon. Sometimes they would turn on the lights and talk over thawed chocolate-covered cherries, and sometimes she would crawl onto the battered futon and lie with her and both of them would cry for their husbands they had trusted to take care of them.

  But Linda was determined to rebound. Oakley had pulled some strings and gotten her a clerical job in a bank. She was set to start in one week. It wasn’t great money, but at least she wouldn’t lose her home, and hopefully, it would lead to better opportunities.

  She was grateful.

  “The flowers are going to be pretty at the party,” Maggie said. “Do you think we’ll get them all done?”

  “We still have two days,” Linda said.

  “Two more days of this?” Jarrod groaned.

  She laughed. She’d decided to throw a closing party for the agency for the employees and their strip mall neighbors. It seemed like the best way to say goodbye to them...and to Octavia.

  She would miss her when she returned to Louisville, but Linda knew it was time. Octavia had her own friends to get back to, and her life in Louisville to put back together. Richard was being held in a facility there, so when she moved back it would be easier for them to visit while he awaited trial.

  She knew her sister hadn’t yet decided what to do about her marriage, but she had let her know she was there for her no matter what she decided.

  If anything positive had come out of the tragedies, it was that they were closer than they’d ever been. And although they were probably too polar opposite to ever be friends, they could be friendly sisters, and that was even better.

  She caught Octavia’s eye and they shared a smile.

  *****

  Octavia handed off another carnation to Maggie. She would miss this the most, being gathered around the table. Linda was so lucky.

  Maggie made a face. “I don’t want you to leave, Aunt Tavey.”

  Octavia’s heart bent toward the little girl.

  “Aunt Tavey has to go back to her home,” Linda said. “She has a lot to do.”

  Find a place to live, repair friendships, get a job, deal with my marriage.

  “I’ll come back to visit,” she promised.

  And there was still the matter of the envelope that Grim was holding for her. She hadn’t shared with him—or anyone—what Richard had told her, and still hadn’t decided what she was going to do.

  “People always say they’ll visit,” Maggie groused. “But they never do.”

  “I will,” Octavia said. Then she got up and went to the den, returning with two boxes. “I got you each a goodbye gift.”

  “That
wasn’t necessary,” Linda murmured.

  “It was for me,” Octavia said.

  “I love presents,” Maggie said, clapping her hands.

  “Can we open them?” Jarrod asked.

  She nodded.

  “Me first!” said Maggie. The look on her face when she opened the box was worth gold. “Pom poms!” She squealed and jumped up and down in the chair.

  “Those are my UK cheerleader pom poms,” Octavia said. “I’m entrusting them to you now.”

  “I will love them,” Maggie said, nuzzling the blue and white fringes to her face.

  She leaped down to throw her arms around Octavia’s neck. “I love you, Aunt Tavey.”

  Octavia’s heart billowed. “I love you, too, sweetie.”

  “Now me?” Jarrod asked.

  She nodded.

  He opened the long slender box and grinned. “Drumsticks! These are cool.”

  “And they go with the set of drums that Grim is holding for you at the pawn shop.”

  His whole face lit up. “For real?”

  “For real.”

  “Okay, that really wasn’t necessary,” Linda said, sending lasers across the table.

  “I’ll be gone,” Octavia said sweetly. She got a hug from Jarrod, too, and he hung on longer than she thought he would.

  “I’ll miss you,” he said.

  “I’ll miss you, too. I expect to hear a drum solo when I come back.”

  Her phone rang and she was surprised to see Dunk Duncan’s name come up. “This is Dunk,” she said to Linda. “Let me take this.”

  “Make sure he’s coming by the night of the party to get the library.”

  “Okay.”

  She walked into the next room and connected the call. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Octavia. It’s Dunk.”

  What a voice...the man was lethal. “Hey, Dunk. What’s up?”

  “Actually, I’m calling with a job offer.”

  She frowned. “To do what?”

  “To come and work for me.”

  Surprise barbed through her...followed by excitement. She’d enjoyed the investigative work, but hadn’t considered doing it for a living. But as soon as the possibility wound its way into her head, the idea began to bloom.