Family Jewels (Dix Dodd Mystery #2) ddm-2

by Norah Wilson

  And I saw it — the slightest waver to his grin. His eyes slid over to Almond before they slid back to me. What did I have? Not much — suppositions. But I’d gotten what I wanted — I wanted to throw Eddie off the slightest little bit. But I felt it too. The niggling was there. Hormones, my butt!

  While I was watching Big Eddie, Almond was watching us both. Carefully.

  “Say, Deputy,” Mrs. P said. “Give me a—”

  “What, Mrs. Presley?” He rolled his eyes and turned to her. “A seven letter word for castrated?”

  Mrs. P gasped. “Do all you sheriff’s deputies talk such filth to little old ladies? What I was going to ask for was a boost up.”

  He did a double take. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m too short. And there’s something at the back of this safe.”

  We all were there in an instant, elbowing for room.

  With a pointy right (hers) to the ribs (mine), Mrs. P won.

  There was indeed something at the back of the safe.

  “Dust?” I asked. Well, that was the first thing that came to mind.

  “Come on, Dix,” Mrs. Presley said. “This isn’t your apartment. Dust doesn’t grow that thick here.”

  She had me there.

  “Maybe it’s bird poop,” Dylan said.

  We all did a double take on that one.

  “What?” he said. “Birds poop.”

  “Yeah,” Big Eddie said. “Yeah … they do poop, Dylan. Now just shut the hell up.”

  Almond reached in to touch it, his fingers coming away with grains of fine sand.

  “Know what that is, Eddie?” Deputy Almond asked.

  Big Eddie wet his lips before he answered. Apparently, the strain from staying on his tiptoes was getting to Big Eddie. His bald head was gleaming with sweat.

  “Not sure, Deputy. Could be anything really.”

  “Looks like sand.”

  “Lots of sand in Florida.”

  Eddie clumped down to flat footed again.

  Almond nodded. He turned to Mother. “So, Mrs. Dodd. How very unfortunate that suddenly you’re a victim of crime too.”

  Already, I did not like where this was going.

  “Why, just yesterday your daughter hiring a pricey lawyer to get you out of jail, you’re the prime suspect in all these crimes — and let’s not forget the disappearance of Frankie Morrell — and suddenly, surprise, surprise, you too end up being the victim of a robbery. What are the chances?”

  My jaw dropped. I could not believe what I was hearing.

  “Yeah,” Eddie said enthusiastically. “Seems pretty coincidental to me too.”

  Fucker!

  “Easy, Dix….” I only realized my hands were fisted when Mother put her hand on my arm. She turned to Almond. Oh, how she turned to Almond.

  Katt Dodd was back. My pinkie-swearing, lipstick wearing, kick-ass mother was back.

  Almond stood there smirking in that condescending way some men have. He stood there waiting, no doubt, for my mother to cry. Fall down and fall apart. Dissolve into whimpering. Lose it in hysteria.

  The guy just did not know women.

  And he sure as hell didn’t know my mother.

  See you can only push a Dodd woman so far, and losing the ring that my father had given her was the final push that Katt Dodd needed before she started pushing back.

  “Deputy Almond,” she said. “Since these thefts began I have been nothing but cooperative with you. Since the disappearance of Frankie Morrell, the same. I’ve told you everything I know in every instance.”

  I knew the tone. Oh, God, I knew this tone. Peaches Marie and I had received the same the morning after we’d sobered up from our first high school … ah, sleepover. This was the I’ve-put-up-with-all-I’m-going-to tone. This was Katt Dodd’s I’m-smiling-but-I’m-going-to eat-you-alive tone.

  “Now what I see happening here, Deputy Almond,” my mother continued, “would seem to constitute police brutality. Harassment at the very least. You’ve been accusing me for weeks, yet your evidence is flimsy to non-existent. Anyone could have gotten my watch and you damn well know it. Well, Deputy, I am sick and tired of it. I’ve tried to be polite, cooperative and friendly. But no more. Now, you’re going to write up a report on my missing family jewels. And you’re going to give this matter all the attention that you’d give to each and every other crime in this complex.”

  He tried to stare her down. “Since when do I take my orders from you, Mrs. Dodd?”

  Katt Dodd reached into her pocket. She pulled out her Pinch-Me Pink without hesitation, smeared it on thick and smacked her lips together before she smiled at him. “I’m just asking you to do your job, Deputy. That ring was very special to me. And if you don’t apply the same diligence in solving this crime as you did the others, I will hold you personally responsible. And I will bring a law suit against not only yourself, but the entire Sheriff’s Department.”

  “You think that scares me?”

  “I don’t know if that scares you or not. But maybe this will: this is Florida, Deputy Almond. There are a great many ladies and gentlemen of my age here. And I assure you, when I am cleared of these crimes — and I will be — it is my intention to campaign tirelessly to get your elected Sheriff kicked out of his job. Every gray haired granny will be after his ass by the time I’m through, and I’ll make sure he knows it’s because of your actions, Deputy. Because of your harassment of an innocent senior. I have friends well beyond these Wildoh walls, and some in very high places. And I assure you, I am far from shy in front of the cameras. Would that be enough to unseat a Sheriff? Maybe not. But I’m betting he’d be prepared to cut your ass loose to take the heat off himself.”

  Noel stared at her, but silently. Hell, she’d shut us all up.

  “You think my magic is all in my head,” Mother said. “Just an old woman’s foolishness. Well, just watch how quickly I can make your job disappear. Your reputation.”

  (And if I was judging things correctly, I bet his gonads, too, right about now.)

  “Go ahead, try me,” Mother said. “You’ll find Cotton Carson is the least of your worries.” She went right up to him and got in his face. “Piss me off one more time, Deputy, and I swear to you the moment I’m cleared of these ridiculous charges, I will not only sue you for harassment, dereliction of duty and anything else I can think of, I will fucking mobilize a grey wave.”

  Deputy Almond tried to stare my mother down. Failed. Though not miserably. The stare down lasted way past when my eyes began watering. But he failed nonetheless.

  Muttering under his breath, he punched a few numbers into the cell.

  “North? Deputy Almond here. Get forensics down to the Wildoh again. We’ve had another theft.”

  Call completed, Deputy Almond sat on the sofa. “Can I bother you for a coffee, Mrs. Presley?” he asked, sweetly.

  “Certainly. Cream, sugar, or spit?”

  Well, he didn’t think that one over for very long. “Never mind.”

  He opened up his handy-dandy note pad. Clicked open his pen. “Now, let me ask you a few questions, Mrs. Dodd,” he said to my mother.

  Big Eddie sat down, his charm-filled necklace giving a tink with the motion. God that thing, must weigh a pound. About six mid-life crises rolled into one.

  “Time for you to go, Eddie,” I said.

  He looked at Almond. Almond nodded. “Yeah, Eddie. This time … I’ll handle it myself.”

  “Don’t you need someone to safeguard the scene until forensics arrives? To make sure it doesn’t get, you know, contaminated?” he asked. “I can do that.”

  “I’ll look after it myself this time.”

  “You sure, Noel?”

  “Quite sure.”

  Eddie left, growling at a head-hanging Dylan as he went.

  Mother sat on the sofa. She smiled at Almond as though he were the sufficiently chastised child and the time-out was over.

  I learned a lot from this exchange. Relearned some too.

&n
bsp; First, Mother’s strength. That was a refresher course. Katt Dodd had gone through some hard times in her life, especially when our father was dying and she had to be strong for Peaches and me. And now that the Dodd diamond was on the line, her real strength showed through again. The diamond meant the world to Mother, but she was the real rock here. She was the real family jewel.

  Secondly, I learned never to accept coffee from Mrs. P when she’s ticked at you.

  Thirdly and more importantly, I learned that Deputy Noel Almond didn’t believe my mother was guilty either.

  Chapter 14

  I hung around while the forensic guys did their job, watched as they took fingerprints and samples. Closely. Noel Almond did too.

  When they were gone, and a coffee-seeking, caffeine deprived Noel Almond himself was out the door later that morning, I set out in search of Dylan. I didn’t have to look far. Big Eddie had him doing a shitload of work again today. As far as I could see, the only ‘security’ Dylan was providing for Eddie Baskin was securing that he’d get lots of rest and relaxation. Poor Dylan had been vacuuming, cleaning, painting, mowing lawns, trimming hedges — you name it — while Eddie enjoyed the free time.

  And sure enough, as I headed toward Complex C in hopes of finding Dylan, I watched Eddie heading toward the lake’s driving range.

  Yes, his he-vage rode down too low and his pants rode up too high. And yes, he was smiling as he headed out to play golf. But I saw it … that fixed grin was just a little bit strained as he made his way to the driving range.

  And apparently, Big Eddie was feeling a little off his game this fine morning for within the ball-filled mesh bag that he carried in his left hand, a glowing orange ball stuck out like a … well, like a glowing orange ball among a whole bunch of white ones.

  Big Eddie needing some of his own magic spin on that ball, perhaps? Not so very confident in his own drives and slices? Little shaky these days?

  Good.

  Fan-freaking-tastic!

  I wanted him rattled. Rattled men make mistakes. (Not to be confused with that other well-known maxim, men are rattlesnakes.)

  ~*~

  I found myself checking things over as I approached Complex C where Dylan was working again today. You know, a pat to the hair, a tug to the shirt, stomach in chest out kind of thing. But no, I wasn’t primping. Well, not a lot. And certainly not for Roger Cassidy, who with a scowl and muttering a slew of four-letter words, met me in the doorway on his way out. Well, kind of met me in the doorway. More like on the step as he slammed the door closed behind him when he saw me aiming to enter.

  I watched him storm off in a huff.

  Dylan knew I was coming, but he wasn’t hanging around the entryway waiting for me, nor did I expect him to be. We were still undercover. For awhile yet, I was Dix Dodd, erotica queen of the north, (that in itself was telling — Almond knew my real persona, Almond was keeping it mum) and he was Dylan ‘heavy-on-the-har’ Hardy.

  I met a few other grumpy people in the hallway. Grumpier, of course, when they saw me. Grumpier still when they saw my fuck-you smile. But that was fine. Nothing out of the ordinary in my line of work. I sloughed it off.

  I knew I’d find Dylan in the supply room in the basement. I’d like to say that was a brilliant deduction on my part, but we’d prearranged the meeting spot.

  Dylan was mixing paint when I arrived. Well he was kind of mixing paint. The can was definitely open. There was a wooden stir stick in it. There was a roller brush in the unspotted tray.

  He dropped the ah-shucks, thick-as-bricks persona the moment he saw it was me rounding the corner. “You look different, Dix.”

  Those first four words threw me back a bit. What had he noticed? A glow to my skin from the Florida sunshine? More lightness in my blond hair from the same? A lightness to my step? Roses in my cheeks? A sparkle in my eyes? A —

  “Oh, it’s your shirt,” he said, nodding. “Your mother ironed for you.”

  What can I say? The guy knew me.

  There were two stools in the work room behind the long laminate-topped counter. I took a seat on one of them. Dylan sat down beside me. He half leaned, half pivoted as he reached for the two coffees on the shelf below.

  Yes, he did know me. I’d jacked up on caffeine before I’d left Mother’s, of course, but this was a welcome bonus. I grabbed my cup from Dylan, and our knees touched as he swiveled a bit to touch his Styrofoam cup to mine in a salute.

  And yes, this small knee-to-knee contact did send a little thrill shooting through me.

  Okay, more than a little thrill. Compared to Almond … well, there was no comparison. And yeah, I swallowed down the wee bit of guilt I felt over the other night’s date/non-date thing.

  What was it with Dylan Foreman? What was it with me?

  Dylan didn’t move his knee away. I waited to see if he would, half wondering if I should edge away myself. But I didn’t and he didn’t, and the moment passed when either of us could have done so without awkwardness.

  My mind drifted to the other night when Dylan and I had gotten more physical. Closer than just touching knees….

  Did I say drifted? My mind shot back to that memory like it had been launched from a rocket.

  Dylan taking the glass from my hand, hauling me down on the bed. His body so solid and exciting against mine. His mouth on my mouth, his hands on my body. Oh, God, his mouth on my….

  “Still, thinking about Big Eddie, Dix?”

  My sexually-charged, rocket-launching mind pulled a 180 and came crashing right down to earth.

  “Er, yeah. Big Eddie. That’s right. He’s the one responsible for the thefts, Dylan. I know it.”

  I did know it. All signs pointed to Eddie Baskins. More importantly, my intuition was screaming and pointing the bony finger of blame at him. But the way he acted when I accused him, how easily he accepted the search of his the premises…. Now, that baffled me. How could he be that cocksure that the jewels wouldn’t be found?

  He couldn’t be. Unless they were no longer on the premises.

  But Eddie said he’d not been off the grounds for weeks. Had no need to. No extra money to be spending these days. And it happened that no-one had left since Roger’s broach was stolen. But the small tool/charm Dylan found in the hallway, the opportunity, my clamoring intuition….

  “So, who is his accomplice?”

  Clearly Dylan had gone over this same ground in his own mind and reached the same conclusion I had.

  “It has to be someone on the inside,” I said.

  “Right.”

  “Someone close to him, obviously. And someone who wouldn’t raise the suspicions of the residents.”

  He nodded. “For sure.”

  “Someone he trusts.”

  “Someone he’d take off to Cuba with, you think?”

  Huh? Where had that come from? “Maybe,” I said. “But really, Dylan, what does that have to do with….”

  From his back pants pocket, Dylan hauled out a piece of paper. A photocopy. I quickly unfolded and read the document. “Holy shit.”

  “Yeah,” Dylan agreed. “Kind of puts a rush on the situation, huh?”

  Rush wasn’t the word for it. We were way past rush — rush was yesterday. The page Dylan handed to me was a copy of a travel agency itinerary from Ridley Travel. Apparently, Eddie Baskin was heading to Cuba, via Cancun. Tomorrow evening. Flying first class.

  “Where’d you get this?”

  He smiled. “I found it when I was dusting Eddie’s apartment.”

  “Dusting?”

  “Yeah,” he said “My favorite. I got the pleasure of dusting Big Eddie’s place — I’m sure the first time in years. Anyway, Eddie left me alone there while he did some errands. And well, he had a ticket for Cuba that just needed a good dusting.”

  “He left this out in plain sight.”

  “Hell, no, but dust gathers on the inside of locked drawers. In envelopes marked ‘confidential’. Even the ones that need to be carefully steamed op
en.”

  I smiled at my apprentice. I’d never been so proud.

  “And while there is only one ticket here. The credit card receipt that I also, ah dusted off. Is for double the total on the ticket. Exactly. Big Eddie is flying first class. And he’s not flying alone.”

  “Leaving with his accomplice?”

  Dylan nodded. “That would be my guess.”

  “Tomorrow….” I looked at the itinerary again. “That doesn’t leave us much time.”

  “It’ll be enough.”

  God, I hoped so. But there was still so much work to be done yet. We had to figure out who Eddie was working with, and fast. “So Big Eddie has a ticket,” I mused aloud, perusing the itinerary closer. “One way, first class.” I raised an eyebrow as I read further. “He must have been stealing these jewels for awhile. I mean, apart from the Dodd diamond, if he fenced everything, it wouldn’t fetch more than a few thousand dollars. Enough for a first class ticket, sure. But enough to skip town on?”

  “I know. Makes you scratch your head, doesn’t it?”

  I looked the pages over again. “This is good investigative work, Dylan. Fine work. Brilliant, in fact.”

  “Just brilliant?” He cocked his head and smiled. “Come on, Dix, give me a six letter word for it. I know you want to. Starts with G.”

  “Pfft.” Dylan and I were far too competitive for me to dub him the genius of our duo.

  “Come on, Dix. You gotta admit it was sheer genius the way I came in here posing as Dylan Hardy. The way I snuck around, did all this damned grunt work just so I could get closer to the unsuspecting suspect.”

  “Work?” I snorted a contemptuous laugh. “Why, look at this place. It’s a mess.” I ran a finger over the counter and held it up for inspection. “You call this clean? You call this dusted? Why I’ve seen cleaner counters in my—”

  Dylan saw it the same time that I did — the little grains shiny on my fingertips.

  “I call it sand,” he said.

  While I’m no sand expert, this was just too coincidental. Fine sand at mother’s condo; fine white sand right here. And when I looked closer, there wasn’t just a dusting of it on the counter, there was a trail of it. Leading all the way to the cabinet in the corner.