by Sam Cheever
I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded.
“Anyway. Get her home, Deitz. I’ll see you guys at the funeral?”
I wanted to groan. The Mitner assignment was becoming the job from that bad, fiery place. I wasn’t sure I’d survive another episode.
“See you tomorrow,” Eddie said, clasping the other man’s hand.
I felt James’ eyes on me as I started out the door and I stopped, turning back. “Thanks for helping save me.”
He nodded. “It was my pleasure. Good night.”
I couldn’t identify the emotion behind the look he gave me. That was a rarity for me. Mr. James was a mystery man.
Eddie helped me into his truck and turned up the heat. After a couple of minutes, we both stopped shivering. Alone with Deitz at last, I turned to him. “Eddie, we have a problem.”
He glanced my way. “Are you all right? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
I shook my head hard as tears flooded my eyes. Panic flared as I remembered how terrified I’d been. “I don’t need a hospital. I think I need a cop.”
He frowned. “What? Why?”
“Because I didn’t fall into the Mitner’s pool tonight. I was thrown in. And the person who threw me gave me a warning for you just before he did it.”
Eddie’s face looked gray in the glow of passing headlights. “A warning for me?”
“Well, I assumed he meant you. He said ‘my partner.’”
“What was the warning?”
“He said to keep our noses out of this or things were going to go badly for us.”
“Dang.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure that going bad thing’s already started for me.”
Eddie pulled up to the front of my apartment building and I hissed.
He scanned me a look. “What’s wrong?”
I jerked my head toward the long, dark figure with the judgmental posture leaning against a dented little car. “Argh.”
“Is that May-speak for something?”
I sighed as Eddie pulled up behind the small, dented car and unhooked my seatbelt. “Sort of.”
I tried to hurry down from the truck’s high seat, my foot grappling for purchase on the running board and slipping as a big hand shot out to grab my arm. He helped me down to the ground and then stood there, scratching his thick cap of dark brown hair. “What in the world are you wearing?”
I looked up into a hypercritical pair of gray eyes and fought my instinctive tendency toward defensiveness. “I had an accident.”
Eddie came around the truck and the disapproving gaze swung to encompass him. “What happened?”
“She was atta…”
“I fell into a pool,” I hurried to interrupt Eddie. The last thing I needed was for Eddie to spill the beans to Mr. Judgmental that I’d been attacked by a possible murderer. And threatened, to add insult to injury. “I’m fine, in case you’re wondering.”
The critical gaze slid over the skin-tight velour and stopped at my feet, where a pair of the world’s ugliest sandals sat repulsive and landlocked on my feet. “What in the name of all that’s fashionable are those?”
“Fish-flops,” I told him with a straight face. “They’re all the rage.”
“Yeah, I’d be in a rage if I was wearing them too.” Mr. Judgmental shook his head. “Have you called Dad?”
I frowned, realizing I hadn’t taken my phone with me to the job. I couldn’t remember the last time a job had me so discombobulated. Probably never. “I left my phone at home. What’s up?”
Instead of answering my question, he slid a disparaging gaze to Eddie. “Are you responsible for her current state?”
Eddie bristled. I could almost feel his caveman erupting, Hulk-like, from under his skin. But, to his credit, he restrained himself, offering Argh his hand. “Eddie Deitz. And you are…?”
“This rude, overprotective oaf is my brother. Argh, be nice to Eddie. He’s a friend of Josh Mitner’s.” I lifted my eyebrows, trying to beam a message to my brother to play along. When I’d taken the job at Exit Stage Left, I’d warned my family they might have to support me in a ruse once in a while. They hadn’t been happy about it. But it was finally decided that, in the grand scheme of things, that type of little white fib wouldn’t rest too heavily on their souls.
Argh narrowed his gaze on Eddie. “I’m sorry for your loss.” He didn’t sound at all sorry.
Eddie nodded, dropping the hand my stupid brother had never taken. “Thanks.”
We stood in a triangle for a long, uncomfortable minute, Argh staring at Eddie and Eddie staring back. I stood at the apex of the triangle, wishing I could sink into the concrete under my fish-flops.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Well…thanks for the ride home, Eddie.”
Eddie didn’t act as if he’d heard me. “Argh, huh? Strange name.”
Argh had long ago given up explaining the nickname. He just shrugged.
“Is that Argh as in parrot on the shoulder and patch on the eye, or is that just what people say when they see you coming?”
Argh fake laughed. “Funny. I’ve never heard those before.”
Actually, the ‘see you coming’ thing was kind of new. “Argh had chronic eye infections as a kid. He was always wearing an eyepatch, so we dubbed him Argh.”
“It’s true,” Argh said, crossing densely muscled arms over a gym-crafted chest. “They actually dubbed me that. With a plastic laser sword.”
I nodded.
“You have a…unique…family, don’t you May?”
It was my turn to shrug. They felt kind of normal weird to me. “Anyway…”
Eddie finally got the hint. “I’ll pick you up for the funeral?”
I shook my head, pointing to the dented little car. “Argh brought my car back. I can drive.”
Eddie eyed the car skeptically. “You sure that thing will hold together long enough to get you there?”
Argh drew himself up, his jaw stiffening.
I held up a hand. “Ease down, Superpatch.” To Eddie, I said, “No offense, but you should never judge a book or a car by its cover. Betty and I would challenge you and your truck to a street race any day.”
Argh nodded smugly. “I’d pay to watch that.”
“Betty?”
I ran a loving hand over my bucket of rust and dents. “This is Betty. She was Argh’s best gal before I inherited her.” I gave my brother a fond smile. “He still takes good care of her for me.”
Argh cocked his head, his gaze tightening. “Have we met before? You look familiar.”
“See you tomorrow, May.” Eddie was in his truck and accelerating down the street before I could even respond.
I frowned. “That was strange.”
“Yeah. There’s something about that guy I don’t trust. How well do you know him?” Argh asked.
“Not well. Just that he was the friend of the deceased I’ve been fake-mourning.”
“Well, watch your step with him. I’ve seen him somewhere before, and I don’t think it was in a good way.”
To change the subject, I pointed to Betty. “Thanks for fixing her up for me.”
“You’re welcome. She’s good as new. Just needed a few plugs and some fresh oil to drink.”
“You need a ride home?”
“Not home, no. My car’s at Dad’s. We’re bringing dinner back.”
“I have to grab Shakes.”
He nodded. “I’ll wait here. And change your clothes. Especially those stupid fish shoes. The googly eyes are giving me the creeps.”
7
Though it had been three years since Mom had passed, I still felt a twinge of sadness every time we pulled up to the pretty white bungalow in the center of the big lot of mature trees. The Lieutenant had preserved the yard just as Mom liked it, keeping a small part of her alive in the vibrant flower beds and close-cut, weed-free lawn.
But the irony of a stay-at-home-mom in a family of mostly cops dying at the relatively young a
ge of fifty-five still astounded me.
“The smell of that food is making me crazy,” Argh complained.
Shoving a curly ribbon of hair out of my eyes, I gathered up the bags. “This is a lot of food for three people.”
He grabbed the small bag of egg rolls off the top and shoved one into his mouth. “Haff dyou theen usth eat?”
I made a grab for the bag but Argh jumped out of the car.
Shakes jumped out too and ran after him, barking happily as Argh ran in circles around the yard, laughing madly.
“You’d better save me one of those!” I yelled after him as I struggled to grab all the bags and my purse.
Argh stopped running and swallowed, commanding my dog to do his business.
Shakes squatted obediently, peeing like a girl on a random dandelion that had somehow escaped the Lieutenant’s rigid schedule of weed and feed, and then took off for the front door.
I smiled, knowing Shakes was anxious to see the Lieutenant, who would pretend he didn’t like the Pomeranian Devil while cuddling with him on his lap all evening and feeding him scraps when I wasn’t looking.
“We’re here!” Argh called out as we entered the brightly lit home. I stopped inside the door, inhaling the familiar scents of Lavender potpourri, my Mom’s favorite, and lemon dusting spray. The worn but comfortable furniture was still arranged the way it had been when I was a kid and the fireplace danced with soft light despite the heat outside.
The Lieutenant liked to sit in front of the fire, contemplating life. He cranked the air conditioner to accommodate his guilty pleasure.
Dad was sitting in his usual chair in front of the fire, the golden flames dancing shadows across his handsome face. He looked up when we opened the door, scowling when Argh bellowed. “I’m right here; you don’t need to rattle the windows.”
With a sharp, happy bark, Shakes bounced into the living room and leaped into his lap.
“Hello, rodent,” the Lieutenant said, even as his big hands moved unerringly to scratch the spot behind Shakes’ ears that made him squint his eyes with pleasure.
Argh grabbed the food from my hand and held it up. “We brought Golden Dragon.”
“Szechuan chicken?” the Lieutenant asked.
“Of course.”
I made another grab for the tiny bag of egg rolls. “Give me one of those, you Neanderthal.”
He danced away, laughing maniacally. “Mine, mine, all mine.”
I looked at Dad. He reached out as Argh tried to dance by, snagging the bag and handing it to me. “Stop teasing your sister.”
I looked down at the single, sad egg roll in the bag. “You ate almost all of them.”
“You said to save you one. I saved you one.”
He headed on into the kitchen. “Get napkins!” I called out. My brother was usually good about grabbing plates and silverware. He never remembered the napkins. I dropped onto the couch, slipping my flip-flops off and leaning gratefully against the soft back. “It feels good to get off my feet.”
The Lieutenant lifted Shakes and settled him more comfortably in his lap. “Tough day at the office?” He grinned.
Everybody in my family was amused by my chosen profession. They thought it was strange. I actually thought it was strange too. But I was okay with it. “You could say that. Did you find out anything about that…erm…thing we talked about yesterday?”
“After dinner.”
Argh came back into the room and I got up, grabbing the TV trays from the holder behind the couch. I settled one in front of each of us, and Argh gave us each a plate and utensils. No napkins.
With a long-suffering sigh, I headed into the kitchen to grab them. When I came back, Argh was telling the Lieutenant about Eddie Deitz. “I think I might have arrested him once.”
Dad glanced my way. “I had the same impression. I know I’ve met him before.”
I gave them each a napkin and settled down to fill my plate. We chatted about my other siblings while we ate. They were both cops, but my sister was heading for a desk job as she entered the second trimester of her first pregnancy. Sasha would hate being behind a desk. I felt bad for her. But I was secretly glad to have her off the mean streets of Asheville while she was pregnant.
My other brother, Dash, had just passed his Detectives exam and was going to be insufferable.
Argh had been a Detective for a year, and I remembered how hard he’d been to take after he’d passed the exam.
Twenty minutes later, I sat back, feeling like I was going to explode. I’d been hungry and had eaten way too much.
Apparently tiny cheesecakes were not enough to sustain a person through nearly drowning and then dealing with a bratty older brother for a couple of hours.
Shakes was happily snoring in the Lieutenant’s lap, his little belly full of Szechuan Chicken and rice, when Argh left to go start his shift.
The Lieutenant didn’t waste any time getting to the topic du jour.
“You need to stay out of that Mitner mess, Punkin.”
In the middle of picking a stray piece of cabbage out of my teeth with a toothpick, I stopped, fixing all my attention on the Lieutenant. “What are you telling me?”
“I’m telling you to get as far away from that as you can.”
“But I have to go to the funeral tomorrow.”
“I’d advise against it.” His words seemed to give me the option, but his tone and body language were more along the lines of giving an order.
“It’s my job, Dad.”
He just barely kept from curling his lip in derision. But I read it in his eyes nonetheless.
I placed the toothpick on my plate and leaned forward, holding his gaze with mine. “Don’t denigrate what I do.”
Like his tone, mine was a message. I’d long ago made the decision to go my own way in my career. Aside from occasional jokes at my expense, my family had mostly accepted it and respected my decision. But the few times someone had crossed the line I’d made sure they understood the decision was not up for discussion.
Knowing my family, I knew it had to be done. Boundaries had to be set. Respect had to be earned. I was sticking to my guns.
He held my gaze for a beat and then lifted a hand, palm out. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Punkin. I’m not dissing your job. I’m just saying that maybe, this one time, it’s not worth getting hurt or…worse…over.”
My brows climbed into my hairline. “You really believe I’m in danger?”
He smoothed a big hand over Shakes, clearly looking for the right words. “I believe…you’ve already been in danger from this situation.”
How the heck did he know? “Who told you that?”
“Argh isn’t as stupid as you’d like to believe.”
I sighed. No. Argh wasn’t stupid at all. In fact, his instincts as a cop were spot on. “Look, Dad, nothing’s going to happen to me at the funeral tomorrow. I’ll be surrounded by people. Once it’s over, I’ll walk away and never be involved again. I’ll be fine.”
“You’ll walk away?”
“Scouts honor.”
His lips curved up in a crooked grin. “You were never a scout, Punkin.”
“I would have been if they’d let me go with the boys.”
“The boy scouts weren’t taking girls at that time and you know it.” The grin widened. “You were born too early. I believe they’re taking girls now.”
I frowned. “Figures.”
He chuckled softly. Shakes looked up at him, adoration making his brown gaze go soft. I wanted to barf. “What is this magic that you weave over my dog?”
The Lieutenant ran his big fingers over Shakes’ tiny head, his own gaze soft enough to horrify him if he could see himself. “I let him know I’m the boss. Dogs respect that.” Shakes went belly up, his tail smacking the back of the chair. The Lieutenant dutifully scratched his fuzzy tummy.
“Yeah, I can see you’re definitely in charge.”
We sat in companionable silence for a few beats. I
glanced at the clock, weariness creeping in to knock me on my butt. But I couldn’t leave yet. I had to try to pry information about Josh’s death out of my dad. It wasn’t going to be easy. Just as I demanded his respect for what I chose to do with my life, I had to respect his responsibilities as a cop.
One of those responsibilities was keeping police business to himself.
Still…
“Was Josh Mitner killed?”
The Lieutenant continued to scratch Shakes’ wriggling tummy. He was silent for so long I thought he wasn’t going to answer me. But finally, he looked up. “All I can tell you is that the truck which struck him didn’t belong to any known trash companies. We have no idea where it came from or why it was there. Add to that the fact that Josh Mitner received a call five minutes before he was struck from an untraceable phone. Strange in and of itself, but explainable if there weren’t other factors involved.”
I leaned forward, intrigued. “What other factors?”
“When the accident hit the news, the 9-1-1 dispatcher received a call from someone who’d driven past an unmarked trash truck near the intersection moments before the crash occurred. The witness noticed the truck because it was sitting there, idling, with its lights off.”
“That’s strange.”
“Yes, Punkin. That’s strange enough to bring the little hairs on the back of my neck up. You know what happens when the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up, right?”
I sighed. “You investigate.”
“Yes, May. I investigate. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do. And I don’t need you or your little private investigator friend, Deitz, getting in my way.”
“Deitz told me he’s a PI,” I said. “Is he any good?”
“Actually, yes, he is. Except that he has a tendency to stick his nose in where it doesn’t belong. This is police business and I don’t want him mucking up my investigation.”
My dad’s words made me shudder. They were too close to the whispered warning beside the pool. “I take it you remembered where you saw him before?”
“I arrested him for impeding an investigation. Twice. Now that was a while ago. But I’m not stupid enough to think he’s cleaned up his act. I figure he’s just gotten better at hiding his activities. I don’t want you involved in those activities, MayBell.”
