No. I was not going to cry. Four deep breaths, in and out, and I started to feel like myself again. I tried to pull back, but Rex wasn't letting me go. And it was lovely.
"Thank you for coming," I mumbled into his chest.
He pulled back and stared at me, stunned. "Merry, I will always be there for you! Always! I was devastated when Kelly called me. It's really hard to be a cop when someone you love is in trouble."
I sank back against him, relieved. Yes, I kind of knew that, but it was good to hear.
"I'm so sorry that happened," he said, lips brushing my hair.
I waited for the "but you should've stayed out of this." It never came. And I loved him even more.
"Rex." I finally pushed away. "I'm so sorry for everything. I know this is my fault and I shouldn't get involved. I don't know what comes over me. The minute there's danger, I just jump in like I'm on autopilot."
He tipped up my chin and searched my eyes. "I know. I would have a hard time with that too if I was a civilian again."
Hope fluttered in my chest. "Does that mean I can keep investigating?"
Rex shook his head slowly, but he was smiling, which I took as a good sign. Since he was being so forgiving, I thought I'd better use this opportunity to tell him about Darlene.
"Have you interviewed Darlene Haver?" I waited as he shook his head.
It took only a few minutes to fill him in on my run-ins with her and my theories on her involvement. Rex listened patiently until the end.
"I'll look into her," he said.
"What do you think of my theory?"
He shrugged. "It's possible. We interviewed people at her church, but no one mentioned Darlene. In fact, she wasn't there."
I started to speak, but he cut me off. "Merry, I appreciate you telling me about Darlene, but your part in that avenue of inquiry is over."
"I'm guessing you have a dog now," I said, changing direction and then asked about something I was still involved in. "What did you find out from Kaitlyn?"
There was no way he was leaving me in the dark about the kidnapping of one of my girls.
He took a bottle of water from the fridge, and I followed him to the couch.
"That little girls are harder to break than hardened ex-cons when a super special secret is involved."
I nodded. "Pinky swears are the worst."
He gave me a curious look. "How did you know it was a pinky swear secret?"
"I've been through this with the girls before. The best CIA interrogators wouldn't get through a pinky swear promise." Yet another reason why my girls would make excellent spies.
Rex seemed frustrated. "She wouldn't tell me anything. Her parents tried to get her to help me out, but she wouldn't budge."
I winced at the idea that her parents now knew she'd been kidnapped. "She's covering for someone she knows and isn't afraid of," I mused. "But who? Why?"
"I think it's safe to say she wasn't harmed or even that frightened," Rex said. "Her parents threatened to ground her, take her cell phone away, even ban her from cookies for a month. She wouldn't give."
I reached out to pet Leonard, who was sitting on the floor and looking at us as if we'd stolen his couch. "Did you find out anything from Stan?"
My fiancé sighed and gave in, realizing I wasn't backing down from this part of the case. "Nothing. He's sticking to his story. This is strange. We have two witnesses here. We should have all the puzzle pieces in place. But one won't talk, and one can't remember. I'm not sure I've ever had a case like this."
"We do know something." I ticked off on my fingers. "First, Leonard was Didi's dog and found in the barn where the coins were. Second, Stan is somewhat innocent." I didn't want to concede that point. "And third, the coins were what they wanted." I wasn't completely sure how Darlene fit in, but Rex seemed to consider that line of inquiry closed. For now.
"And Didi was involved in the coin heist if her dog was at the barn. But how involved?" Rex asked.
"Disco Mummy and the clown must have someone else working with them. They couldn't have had Kaitlyn at the time."
"Unless her secret was to stay someplace until they got back from the pickup."
"You think it was just two men?"
"I do."
At that moment, my conversation with Randi unspooled inside my head. I ignored it. It seemed like the wrong time to tell Rex his sisters might be involved. Rex's recent reunion with his family was still new. The family had fallen out years ago, over expectations that Rex would marry a girl they liked. He walked away, but now they were a united family again. My soon-to-be family. It didn't feel right being suspicious of them.
I ran through the details again. "These guys murdered Didi and kidnapped Kaitlyn. But what about Amber? What role did she play?"
Rex frowned. "I forgot about her. We found out who she was."
I waited patiently. He did not tell me.
"And? You've told me this much, and I've helped you with the clues. Give it up!"
To my complete surprise, Rex did. "Amber Tobin worked for the Des Moines Museum of Art. She was in the marketing department there."
I snapped my fingers and pulled up the picture of the poop note on my cell. "That's it!" I pointed at the screen. "DM MOFA. Des Moines Museum of Art! Maybe they're going to pull off another heist! Amber was their insider!"
Rex smiled, "I think you're right. What does 1030 mean, since you're on a roll."
"Obviously it's October 30." I sat back and awaited my prize.
He sat straight up. "That's tomorrow!"
"Tomorrow's Sunday—is the museum open on Sunday?" I didn't like that I didn't know that.
Rex pulled up the museum's website on his phone. "There's a special gala tomorrow night to open some big exhibit."
"What's the exhibit?" I asked.
"Incan gold." Rex stood up and grabbed his keys. "Sorry, Merry. I've got to go." He kissed me. "Can you handle Ferg…I mean Leonard?" He pulled me against him, kissed me again, and was out the door before I could protest.
My cell rang.
"Miss Wrath?" a grumpy voice asked.
"Mr. Barnes!" I shrieked. "I'm so glad you returned my call!"
The man groused, "Well, I had to. Or else I'd be stuck with that little number thingy showing me I had a voice mail and it won't go away. Drives me nuts."
"Well, I appreciate the hassle." And I did. At least he had a cell phone so I could get ahold of him.
"What did you want? The parade's over, isn't it? Do you still need my barn or what?"
I thought quickly. "Yes, the parade is over, and I wanted to thank you for letting us use it."
The grumpiness eased a bit. "That's alright. I don't really use it anymore. I used to rent it to people, but it was too hard to keep track of all the names and whatnot. When my grandniece asked to use it for your float, I thought hell, at least I know who's in there now."
Sensing my opportunity, I dove right in. "You rent it out? Do you remember to whom?"
"Oh, I don't know." He shouted, "Edna! Do you have that notebook with the names of people who've used the barn in the past?" There was a muffled voice in the distance, and then Oliver continued, "I've handed out so many keys to that place that damn near everyone in the county probably has access now. I should probably take the whole thing down."
My heart sank. I was hoping he would be able to wrap this up. But if a lot of people had access, it might be hard to figure out who dumped Didi Stoker and the coins there.
"Hold on, little lady. Edna's coming," he grumped.
I waited for what seemed like an eternity.
"Okay, here it is." There was a pause. "Now where did I put my glasses? Edna! Where are my glasses?"
For a moment, I thought about hanging up. But I'd come this far. Why not hang on a little longer?
"Got my glasses. Now let me see here…" His voice rattled off a long list of names I didn't recognize. I tried to write them down, but it seemed as though the man was suddenly in a hurry.
> "And then there was my 2nd cousin's drinking buddy's sister's friend. Some woman. Worked in a furniture store."
My pulse exploded. "What's her name?" I waited to hear Didi Stoker.
"Huh," he grunted. "Can't make out the handwriting. Edna! Did you write this?" I heard footsteps walking away, and in the distance I heard Oliver calling for Edna. Finally he got back on the phone. "Sorry, missy. Edna's gone to bingo night at the Knights of Columbus Hall. There's another name there, but I think it was someone asking about using the barn. Name begins with a D."
I pressed him. "Didi or Darlene?"
"I've got no idea. Sorry I couldn't be more help."
And with that, he hung up.
I tried to make sense of this. Didi could have rented the barn. That would explain how the coins got there. Maybe she stashed them for safekeeping, not realizing that old Oliver double-booked his grandniece's Girl Scout troop in the barn for around the same time. It was a good location, and her partners in crime might not have known about it. It's possible she was going to double-cross them.
So, how did she end up murdered there? Maybe she was followed by her partners, or maybe they knew about the barn the whole time. At any rate, Didi was murdered. Did the killer see our float as an opportunity to dispose of a body? Was he trying to frame us, or was he just lazy? My head was spinning now.
I thought about Amber. Her murder was tied to her work at the museum. Did the killer pump her for intel then kill her so she wouldn't put two and two together? It seemed plausible.
But why dump her at my house? Maybe it was a way to frame me for both murders. When it turned out that Didi was discovered on my troop's float… Did the killer think by dumping Amber in my backyard that I'd take the heat?
But what if it's Darlene? Darlene could've killed Didi and left her in the barn. She had a strong enough motive. The problem there was that Darlene wasn't connected to Stan or the coins or anything else about the case. I doubted she knew Amber.
Still, I understood why Darlene would kill Didi. It was hazier with the coin theft. Didi certainly seemed linked to that. There were too many variables unaccounted for. Which made this case insanely convoluted.
Leonard jumped up and started licking my face, reminding me that my theories were just that. Rex took me out of the investigation, and now I was dog sitting. Not that I minded… It's just that I'd rather be staking out the museum right now, trying to fit the pieces together. Unfortunately, that job would be taken by policemen. Rex had an excellent working relationship with the Des Moines police, and they would work with him. Not me.
For a moment, my conscience reminded me that I'd sworn my investigative days were over. But this was different! I'd been to many galas as an undercover operative. This was my thing. Not using me when this was deep within my skill set was a blow to my ego.
I was left out. Rex was going to be gone for hours, and I had to hang out with his dog.
His dog. He had a dog now. No one was going to claim him. And we were getting married. Which meant we'd have three pets—Philby, Martini, and Fergus…or Leonard…or whatever his name was.
I bent down and scratched the beast's head. "Come on, boy. Time for you to meet your sisters."
Spies and Girl Scouts are supposed to be prepared for anything. It's kind of like chess. You have to be a couple of moves ahead of your opponent. That's the only way to prepare for disaster. If you're racing into the dark alley in Uruguay to go after the puppeteer you suspect of stealing secrets, you have to be prepared when he hits you with a ventriloquist dummy.
Okay, so I wasn't always prepared for anything.
Leonard and I walked in the door and found Martini passed out cold on her back in the middle of the living room. Leonard, deciding she looked delicious, gave her a big, sloppy kiss.
She sprang to life, arching her back and hissing in an attempt to make Leonard think she was bigger and scarier than she was. The dog wagged his tail and licked her again, so roughly that she fell over. That was the wrong answer because the kitten fled, caterwauling all the way down the hallway.
Leonard looked at me, wagging his tail so furiously he cleared the coffee table in one fell swoop. His mission completed, he climbed up onto my couch and rolled over onto his back.
That went better than I'd thought it would. The only problem was I'd forgotten that Martini was only a minor player in the household.
Philby trotted into the living room, still wearing the werewolf mask. She sat down on the couch next to the dog, staring menacingly at him through two slits in the rubber.
Leonard fell off the sofa and backed up, knocking me into the back of the front door. He whimpered as Philby began stalking him through the living room. She cornered him by the TV and, without using her claws, punched him soundly in the nose. The dog ran to the kitchen and cowered by the back door, whining loudly.
"Hey!" I snatched the mask off the cat. "He's a guest. And your soon-to-be…something!"
Philby jumped into the air in an attempt to get the mask. She continued to jump until I said the one word that sent her into a hissing fit.
"Bobb."
Philby hissed so hard, she fell over onto her side. Being a fat cat, she lay there for a second trying to figure out how to right herself. She kind of looked like a furry tick. After a few seconds she gave me a furiously dirty look and ran off to the bedrooms.
A while ago, when I first acquired my Hitler cat, she'd been owned and abused by someone named Bobb (who showed up, dying on my doorstep a couple of years ago). And yes, there were two b's at the end of his name. And somehow, Philby knows that.
I took a block of cheese out of the fridge and cut it up. Leonard took the cheese slices while glancing nervously at the hallway. Both cats protested loudly from the safety of the bathroom as they plotted our demise.
Getting these three together was not going to be easy. After a few more nibbles of whatever food I had in my kitchen, Leonard calmed down enough to follow me back into the living room.
He sat next to me on the couch as I pulled up the Des Moines Museum of Art's website. I hit the staff button, and there was Amber's smiling face. It was sad looking into the eyes of a now-dead woman, especially since her body was found in my yard. I still wasn't completely sure how was she connected to this mess. Was she in on the robbery, or was she merely guilty of knowing too much?
Stan had to be involved. He was the last person to see her alive. It couldn't be a coincidence that he had been with her. Especially on the night he'd had a date with my mother. Could he have picked her up at the bar after I'd gone into the ladies' room? If so, Amber had questionable judgment to hook up with a stranger and leave with him in a matter of minutes.
Which could mean she was in on it. That made sense. And Disco Mummy and the clown killed her off either to preserve their cut or because she knew too much. Stan had the motive and opportunity for her murder.
Stan, Disco Mummy, and clown had to be a team. I wouldn't be surprised if Stan made up that whole story of being kidnapped, hoping it would put him in the clear for Amber's murder and Kaitlyn's kidnapping.
But if that was true, why did Rex think otherwise? He was a smart detective and good at his job—and definitely a better judge of character than most. He was convinced of Stan's innocence. Stan was an oily salesman, but I didn't think he could put one over on Rex.
So, if Rex was convinced he was innocent, and I was convinced he was guilty, where did that leave Stan?
I looked at the information on the opening of the Incan Gold Exhibit. Tomorrow night there was going to be a costume ball gala. Something clicked in the back of my mind. How perfect was that? Everyone would be wearing costumes, and there'd probably be a lot of people milling around. Was that when the thieves were going to hit?
It seemed a little brazen to me…but then, these guys kidnapped a child today. And they thought I'd either bring the gold to the parade for no apparent reason or that I'd be able to get them within a seven block stretch of parade. These guys w
ere either very stupid or could predict the future.
The thieves were probably going to scope things out at the gala. I knew it deep in my bones. The place would be packed, and security would be stretched thin. It was the perfect time to case the place without drawing suspicion.
What was Rex going to do? Walk around in a suit, watching for something to happen? Tickets to the gala were expensive at $200 a pop. I filled out the form online and paid for two. We could pick them up at the box office that night.
* * *
"You did what?" Rex asked. I wasn't sure if he was referring to introducing Leonard to his new cat family or if this was about the tickets.
I went with the tickets. "You'll stand out if you go on your own and don't wear a costume. This way we can dress up and pretend to be a couple enjoying the exhibit. I know the thieves will be there to scope out the situation."
Rex frowned. "How do you know that?"
"Because." I rolled my eyes. "That's what I'd do."
And I have. Huge crowds, with everyone looking at the exhibit? It's the perfect way to case the place and check out security measures. There weren't many fancy dress balls in my career, but there were a few. Not long after I left my training at the Farm, I had an assignment in Ukraine, where I was looking for a silver ostrich sculpture that turned up in a gallery in Kiev.
The problem was, this ostrich had a secret compartment where my contact had stashed a SIM card with all kinds of intel. Sadly, he was run over by a bread truck, and long story short, the statue ended up in an art gallery. I spent three hours that night surveilling things while drinking a sad, Russian-version of sparkling wine that had an aftertaste of antifreeze. The next day, I walked into the gallery and swiped the ostrich while avoiding the two cameras, a tripwire, and a narcoleptic guard named Phil.
"I don't know about this," he muttered. "You should have asked me first."
I folded my arms over my chest. "Would you have gone with me?"
"Probably not." His tone of voice said definitely not.
"So, don't go. I'll take Kelly."
Merry Wrath Mysteries Boxed Set Volume III (Books 7-9) Page 35
