He found his wife in the kitchen washing out the brownie pan. He slipped his arms around her waist from behind and pecked the nape of her neck. His voice cracked with emotion. “I don’t deserve you.”
Melody whipped around and grabbed him by the shoulders. She gave him a sharp shake. “Get a grip, Blake. If you appear weak, they’ll eat you instead of my brownies.”
He set his shoulder blades. “You’re right. As always.”
She laughed. “Will you put that in writing?”
He swatted her comment away and drew her into a bear hug. “Thanks for being the best wife ever.”
She kissed his cheek as she pulled out of the embrace. She brushed off his shirt and ran her fingers over his hairline. “There. Now go get ’em. You are the most amazing chief detective this town ever had and you make me proud. Remind them of that. This is just a tiny blemish on your otherwise exemplary record.”
Another tear threatened to escape. Blake backed a few steps and coughed into his fist.
Melody filled a glass of water from the tap and handed it to him. “Here. Wet your whistle.”
He drank half of it down in one swallow. With a wink, he answered, “Got anything stronger?”
She bopped him on the scalp. “You are fully aware all we keep is cooking sherry. Besides, I don’t think alcohol on your breath will impress them.”
He chuckled. The Johnson family rarely indulged. A year ago, after the neighborhood barbecue, Ellie borrowed the Smythe’s cooler to fill with sports drinks after Jamie’s soccer practice. Inside, she found an old beer can. It had obviously been in there a while. She asked if she could use it to wash her hair, stating she’d read on social media flat beer brought out the luster. Blake looked it up to verify the claims before he agreed. Of course, that was after he tried a third of it on his own locks as he draped his head over the kitchen sink, which made her laugh until she cried.
Now, the memory flooded in on him. When had the job begun to outweigh time spent with his kids? Janie had been correct. He was overworked. Perhaps after his partner, Mitch Hornsby, returned from medical leave next week, things would change. One thing for sure, whether or not he survived this modern version of the Spanish Inquisition in his living room today, he’d make sure it happened.
Blake blinked to find Melody’s gaze on him. “Sorry. Just recalling the time Ellie used beer as shampoo. Not sure why it surfaced.”
Their eyes locked for a moment. Then the doorbell rang.
Blake’s heart plummeted into his stomach.
Melody smiled and touched his cheek. “You’ll do fine, dear.”
~*~
Janie planned to stroll through the side streets, noticing the house numbers. After an hour, the summer heat penetrated her backbone. By the time she passed the post office, she still had half a mile to go before she reached her air-conditioned condo on Sunny Ridge. She took a long swig of the bottled water and quickened her pace, cutting across the back parking lot and the grassy area leading to the alley between her block and Rosy Skies Trail. It occurred to her the country atmosphere of Sunset Acres might be perfect for would-be thieves. The condos’ back stoops faced the carports in the alleyways, offering no security. The garden homes had privacy fenced patios, but those were easy to break into.
The whole property was secured by four-foot high, barbed wired fencing on the other side of Westwood Creek, which looped around the golf course and meandered into the woods. What good did it do? The six-foot, wrought iron fence flanking the gated entry appeared more decorative to passersby, though she imagined any able-bodied person could scale it in no time.
Bottom line, they were all sitting ducks, preferring their grassy views so deer and bunnies could wander, and wild turkeys could gobble as they waddled to the pond on the fourth hole. “It’s a wonder we haven’t been robbed before,” she addressed a squirrel perched on it haunches chewing on an acorn dropped from a sprawling oak. “What with the neighborhoods closing in and the strip centers along the highway building up, we may as well erect a neon arrow pointing in our direction: ‘Come rob us.’”
The fluffy creature flicked its bushy tail and scurried up the trunk.
“Run and hide. Can’t blame you.” Janie dug out her keys. There appeared to be only one solution to their common dilemma. The new-fangled alarm system the ladies mentioned.
Janie clapped her hands together, which caused the squirrel to leap onto the roof and skitter away. “I’ve got it. We’ll do a door-to-door petition drive to beef up security and canvass our neighbors for clues about the burglaries at the same time.” She did a quick two-step. “Ah-ha. Janie, my girl, your gray cells are back in gear.”
She opened her back entrance and dumped some cat food into Mrs. Fluffy’s bowl. Watching the lovable menace crunch her kibbles, she imagined the fur ball stepping on the alarm pendant in the middle of the night as she settled on Janie’s chest. Every police car, ambulance, and fire truck in a twenty-mile radius would descend upon her condo, lights flashing and siren blaring—again. It happened last month when a peeping tom threatened her at knife point so she’d stop investigating Edwin’s murder. Her neighbors would only take so much before they petitioned for her to be evicted.
“Oh, well. Can’t be helped. We still need them.” She headed to her computer to design the forms. Fifteen minutes later, with twelve pages printed—one for each Bunco Biddy—in a folder under her arm, she knocked on Ethel’s front door.
SIX
Blake perched on the edge of the winged-back chair’s cushion as his superiors chomped on brownies. The mayor, the city council senior representative, and Chief of Police Jonathan Gates positioned themselves on the sofa opposite him. Mayor Brewster raised his gaze to Blake’s face. He wiped his mouth and took a sip of iced tea. “Chief Detective Johnson, we decided this would be an informal gathering to hear your spin on the events of the past week. This is by no means a formal inquiry. We realize you’re still recovering from your harrowing experience.”
Exactly what Melody called it. Had they been talking?
“Can you explain why that happened and what could have been done to prevent it?”
Blake sat up straighter and swallowed. “Mr. Mayor, Sirs, let me first say I take full responsibility for what occurred. Had it not been for the fine work of my junior partner, Detective Connor Hemphill, as well as Officers Phil Edwards and Aaron Jenkins, my life and that of my mother-in-law’s would have been in dire danger. Nevertheless, if one of my detectives pulled such a stunt, I’d have thoroughly reprimanded him.”
“Well, the FBI has requested a report be placed in your file,” Gates spoke up. “I quote, ‘Has a tendency to push ahead without permission or going through proper channels.’ While Agent Robbins did state you were cooperative, he was clear to point out you’d branched out on your own without fully informing him of your plan. Why?”
Blake dabbed beads of sweat off his upper lip. “Honestly? I knew he’d squelch it. Look, the truth is my pride got in the way of my judgment. Compared to him, I felt like a country bumpkin. I wanted to prove to him I knew what I was doing. That and the desire to wrap the case up so my family and I could finally take some time off to go to the beach fueled my agreement to go undercover with my mother-in-law.” He looked down at his hands. “It’s been two years since I had a vacation.”
He raised his gaze to judge their reactions. Six pairs of eyes didn’t blink. Oh, man. Now it sounds like I’m complaining. He gulped. “Any, and I repeat, any roles my underlings played in this charade were solely on my command. They were only following my orders.”
The men scooted together and whispered to each other. Blake tapped his fingers on the arms of the chair. After a while, Senior Councilman Artemis Arnold addressed him. “Chief Detective Johnson, er, Blake. I respect you. You took a sleepy small-town force and helped mold it into a working investigative team capable of handling the influx of citizens we’ve experienced over the past few years. I’m sure Chief Gates appreciates your fine efforts
, especially in light of your partner’s medical leave. He tells us there’s not one officer on the force who doesn’t speak highly of you.”
“Thank you, sir. Good to hear.”
The councilman held up his finger. “However, this cloak and dagger stunt you pulled off with your mother-in-law is nothing less than outrageous.”
Blake stopped him with his hand up. “I agree wholeheartedly. But if I may explain. Time was of the essence, and when it was all said and done, we gathered enough intel to bring down the entire kidney smuggling ring.”
The mayor piped up. “So, you are saying your end justified your means.”
Blake clutched his hands. He looked to the carpet for a moment before meeting the mayor’s stare. “No, sir. I’m saying we got results. No one was seriously harmed, and a major crime syndicate operating underneath our noses was squelched. That being said, I did act irresponsibly and am fully prepared to take whatever measures you wish to enforce.” He pulled his identification from his back pants pocket and laid it on the coffee table. “If you want my badge, you have every right to ask me to surrender it.”
He held his breath. For a long moment, nobody responded. At last the chief of police sighed and slid the law enforcement symbol back toward him. “Blake Johnson. We are officially placing you on mandatory administrative leave, with pay, until the second of July, at which time you will report for a formal hearing in my office at o-nine-hundred hours. I believe you will be back from vacation?”
“Yes, sir. We take off on Thursday. We leased a seaside cabin on Padre Island for two weeks. So, we’ll actually be back on the twenty third.”
“Then you’ll still have two weeks to rest and reflect. Knock out some of the honey-do’s, eh?”
The mayor rose and the other two followed suit. Chief Gates extended his hand. “Blake, we value you on the Alamoville police force. With the recent population growth, crime increase, and being short-handed while your partner recovered, your job became very stressful. It’s no wonder your judgment became impaired.”
Blake swallowed hard.
Gates expression warmed. “This is by no means a preamble to termination. We want you to take a break from the pressures of the job, reconnect with your family, and rest.”
The chunk of cement feeling, which had been lodged in his throat, slid into his stomach. “Thank you, sir.”
“Blake, before you leave on vacation, we insist you undergo psychological testing. You almost lost a partner and a friend when Hornsby caught the bullet. It can play on a man’s brain. Nonetheless, encouraging your mother-in-law to step into his shoes? Well, that showed poor judgment.”
He nodded. “I agree. However, with all due respect, sir, Janie is the widow of a highly-decorated Austin police detective who often bounced his most puzzling cases off her brain.”
“I am fully aware of his reputation. We both served the fine city of Austin back in the day.”
“I see. My point is, Janie may now live in a retirement community, but her wit is as sharp as a cactus needle. In both the case of Edwin Newman’s demise in the dumpster and in the baby left in his vacant garden home, she proved useful and insightful. I’m not sure I would have connected the dots as quickly without her insistence. She may have opened a can of worms, sir, but we caught a bucket of pretty nasty fish with them.”
The three men exchanged glances. “We will review your submitted report as well as FBI Agent Robbins’s. I want it on my desk first thing tomorrow morning. You have an appointment at nine-thirty on Tuesday with Dr. Sarah Mattocks.” Gates handed Blake a card. “Be there fifteen minutes early to fill in the paperwork. The testing will take four to five hours with a break for lunch.”
Blake slipped it into his shirt pocket. He shook his boss’s, the councilman’s and the mayor’s hands. “Gentlemen. Thank you for taking the time to stop by. And for giving me another chance. I will not let you down. I will return from vacation fit and ready to work, at your pleasure.”
Chief Gates nodded. “We certainly hope our findings allow it. In the meantime, I must caution you that we are not only fully aware of the robberies at Sunset Acres but also the fact your mother-in-law has already been in touch with Detective Hemphill about them.”
The blood rushed from Blake’s face. Oh, Janie. Will you ever learn?
“Be that as it may, I acknowledge her usefulness in the past.” Gates’s laugh lines increased. “I gave him instructions to utilize her on a limited basis to help glean information about the workings of her community in order to thwart what may be a potential danger to our retired citizens.”
“Sunset Acres is the wave of the future and many eyes are on our little neck of the woods watching to see if it succeeds,” the mayor interjected. “The fact there has been so much crime recently within its borders makes us all concerned.”
“Me, as well, sir. She is, after all my wife’s mother. Her friends are dear to us as well.”
The mayor chuckled. “You mean the Bunco Biddies? What a name.”
“They coined it themselves, sir.”
He shook his head and turned to leave. “Take care, Blake. See you in four weeks.”
“Thank you, Mr. Mayor.”
The chief of police returned his salute. “Rest up, Blake. That’s an order.”
Councilman Arnold gave him another hearty handshake. He leaned in. “I’m rootin’ for you, Johnson. My Aunt Ethel speaks highly of you.”
Blake blinked. Did he mean the Ethel who lived in Sunset Acres? Janie’s sidekick? Well, perhaps God had kept the entrance to his future opened a crack after all.
SEVEN
Janie knocked on Ethel’s door. A few seconds later, she heard the cadence of her friend’s stroll as she approached. She greeted Janie with a warm smile. “Welcome. Um, you do realize it’s only six o’clock, right? Bunco isn’t until seven.”
“I do, but I wanted to show you my idea.”
“Well, come in. Do you mind sitting in the kitchen? I need to finish microwaving the bacon for my carb-free BLTs.”
Janie followed as Ethel continued to talk. “My niece e-mailed the recipe to me. She finds all sorts online. Especially on the one where everyone pins to a virtual bulletin board.”
“Yes, yes.” Janie plopped the folder down with a loud enough snap to obtain Ethel’s attention. It worked. She stopped chatting and reached for it.
“What is this?”
Janie grinned. “A petition.” She pulled a sheet out and read what she’d typed. “Due to the recent rash of burglaries and other crimes in our community, we, the residents of Sunset Acres, hereby demand the board of directors install state-of-the-art alarm systems in each unit, be it apartment, condo, or garden home, including an emergency call device. We agree to pay a monthly fee of no more than $35.00 to receive said services from a reputable company.”
“Very well stated.” Ethel leaned against the counter as the microwave spun. The aroma of sizzling bacon strips filled the air.
Janie smacked her lips. “Hickory smoked?”
“Huh? Oh, the bacon. Yes.” Ethel handed her the package. “Organic. Grass fed pigs.” She tapped the label with her fingernail. “I didn’t know they ate anything except slop.”
“Smells wonderful. What can I do to help?”
“Strip off the romaine lettuce leaves and lather them with my homemade avocado mayonnaise.” The microwave dinged. Ethel put on her oven mitt to retrieve the ribbed tray. She forked the strips onto a plate, poured some of the residual grease into a tin can, and placed six raw pieces in their place. She covered them with two folds of paper towels and tapped in five minutes on the side panel. “Now, about this petition. I gather you have an ulterior motive.”
Janie chuckled. “You know me too well. There is on the site for each of the Bunco biddies to canvass their immediate neighbors. I figure it might be an opportunity to also inquire if any of our fellow residents heard or saw anything suspicious.”
“Aha. Good thinkin’ my friend.” She began to chop
the cherry tomatoes in half and lay three to four on each piece of mayo-covered lettuce leaf. Next, she crumpled the strips of crisply cooked bacon, sprinkled the pieces over the leaves, and arranged them on a platter.
Janie took one. “Just testing.” She crunched down. “Yum.”
Ethel beamed. “I added a smidgen of Dijon mustard and lemon squeeze to my avocado-mayo for a bit of a zing.”
The microwave indicated the next batch had finished. The two worked in tandem to complete the dish as they discussed Janie’s latest scheme.
“Did you run this by Blake?”
“Nope. He’s on leave, partially thanks to me.”
Ethel stopped chopping, her knife poised in midair. “Are you kidding? After all he’s done for that department?”
Janie shrugged.
She harrumphed and stood. “Well, I think we need two petitions.”
“No, Ethel. It might just muddy the waters.”
“Well, we should do something. The man is a God-send to this community.”
Janie blushed. “My Melody chose well, though I often wished he’d been a lawyer or an accountant. Being the wife of a detective requires a thick outer shell at times. Many a night I didn’t sleep soundly until I heard Jack’s footsteps on the stairs and knew he was home safe and sound.”
“What do you suggest we do to toot his horn?”
“A few unsolicited letters, mailed several days apart, singing his praises to the mayor or city councilmen might help.”
Ethel chopped four more tomatoes with vigor. “Done. We’ll rally the troops tonight.” She waved her knife like a saber. “For both causes.”
~*~
An hour later Ethel’s living room filled with twelve chatting women as they tasted each other’s recipes. They usually met at Janie’s, but everyone agreed to change the venue this one time since she had just been released from the hospital the day before. No one would allow her to lift a finger. They even brought her a plate of food with a sampling of every dish. Never had Janie felt so pampered, hugged, and loved.
Threes, Sixes & Thieves Page 3
