“No, no, that’s not necessary. Bill, this is my friend, Addison. She’s never had any of Dad’s famous venison jerky, so I stopped by to see if I could buy some off you.”
Bill eyed me. “You know he doesn’t let me sell that.”
Yep, I did. The jerky was only for special clients, which is exactly why I needed it. I gave him my sweetest, most innocent smile. “But it’s so good. She can’t come to my home town and not try the jerky I told her so much about.”
I elbowed Addison. She gave a little jump before turning on her charm. “Oh yeah, Dylan doesn’t shut up about this stuff, and I’ve been looking forward to it forever.”
Bill went behind the counter and checked his stock. “Well, I suppose I could give you a few strips.”
“You know Dad would if he were here,” I said. “If anything could talk me into moving back, it’s Dad’s jerky.”
That part wasn’t exactly a lie. Dad’s jerky was the thing I missed the most about Lakeview. Bill tossed a couple strips in a bag, waved off my offer of payment, and we were on our way.
“Are you going to let me try it?” Addison asked as I laid the bag on the backseat.
“Not a chance. The stuff is like crack. One bite, and you’re hooked. We need it to bribe Sergio into releasing the security tapes. But we’re gonna have to be stealthy about it.”
“Okay...?”
I giggled. “Silence your phone. This is gonna be fun.”
We grabbed the bag of jerky, approached the front doors of the nursing home, and I asked Addison for a mirror.
“What makes you think I have one?” she asked.
I looked pointedly at the gigantic Kate Spade purse slung over her shoulder.
“Fine,” she said, riffling through it until she produced a hand-held mirror.
“Tell me if you see someone coming, and hold this, please.” I handed her the jerky bag.
Ducking, I crept up to the door, angling the mirror to see in. There were two nurses behind the counter, but thankfully neither was Brandy. One appeared to be playing solitaire on the computer, while the other alternated between staring longingly at the clock and fiddling with her cell phone. The door across from the nurse’s station led to the security room, which was our goal. I slunk back, detailed the plan to Addison, called the nursing home’s main line, and asked for my grandmother’s room. It took me about five minutes to convince Grandma to call in a nurse and keep her busy for a while. Then I crept forward again, using the mirror to watch.
The nurse playing with her phone said something and then headed down the hall. I gestured for Addison to stay low and follow me and we crept in, using the mirror to keep an eye on the other nurse. As we slunk around the counter, the theme song for “The Pink Panther” started playing. Heart racing, I shifted feet and looked to Addison. She pointed at the piano in the common area. A man who had to be pushing a hundred sat on the bench, plunking keys. He winked at us and kept playing.
I took a deep breath and continued. We made it through the door leading to the security area without further incident, and stood, giggling neurotically.
“I can’t believe it’s unlocked,” Addison said.
“It’s Lakeview. We don’t lock doors here.” I pointed to the room at the end of the hallway. “Let’s go.”
Sergio was maybe five-foot-five with short dark hair and a bit of a spare tire. He jumped out of his chair, surprised to see us, but grinned when he recognized me. “What are you doing here? And in here?” he asked after we hugged and I introduced him to Addison.
I filled him in on our job and asked for copies of the video surveillance.
“I’d need to clear it with the boss first,” Sergio replied. “It’ll probably take a few days.”
I ran a hand down my face. “Okay, here’s the deal. We’re only going to be in town until Labor Day.”
“And we really want to help those ladies and get them back their jewelry,” Addison added. “Dylan told me all about you and you seem like a great guy who wants to do the same thing.”
He glanced from us to the screens in front of him. “I do, but I could lose my job for this.”
“Remember that time I caught you stealing penny candy from Welches Convenience Store? Did I ever rat you out for that?” I asked.
“No, but you did make me put it back.”
I smiled. “Yep. I single-handedly discouraged your life of crime. You owe me.” I put my hand out to Addison and asked her for the bag. “Besides, I brought something to sweeten the deal.”
Now I had his attention. His eyes were wide as he watched the bag change hands. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Yep. Just stopped by Dad’s and got it special for you, but if you don’t want it...”
“No, no, I want it.” He was practically slobbering. “I just...I suppose if I burned copies of the dates the jewelry was stolen and someone snuck in here and took them...I couldn’t be held responsible for that.”
“I promise I won’t sell you out, Sergio.”
He nodded and gestured to the sofa. “Have a seat. This will take a minute.”
After Sergio made us the tapes, we slipped out the back door.
“Why didn’t we come in this way?” Addison asked.
“What fun would that have been? Besides, it’s a security door and locks automatically. Let’s go back in the front and visit Ms. Long.”
My dad had been good friends with Jeff Long once upon a time, but time and circumstances (okay, really, Dad’s drinking problem) had driven a wedge between them. I remembered Jeff’s aunt from long ago barbecues and church potlucks, though. She’d been a sweet lady with short grey curls and big round glasses who always had a pocketful of hard candy for us kids. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw when I walked into her room.
Ms. Long was in bed with a blanket tucked around her. Her skin was pale and her eyes were glazed over. I almost thought she was dead for a moment, but her lips moved, mumbling something.
“Hello, Ms. Long,” I said, forcing cheerfulness I didn’t feel into my voice.
She didn’t acknowledge my existence, so I closed the distance and repeated myself. Still no response.
“Is she okay?” Addison asked, approaching the foot of the bed. “Should we get a nurse?”
Before I could answer, a nurse walked in. “Hello,” she said, eyeing us. She looked familiar, but she was older than me and I couldn’t remember her name.
“Hi. I’m Dylan James and this is Addison Allen. We’re here to interview Ms. Long about her stolen jewelry,” I explained.
“I heard you were back and poking around,” the nurse replied, elevating the upper portion of Ms. Long’s bed. “This one won’t be able to tell you much, though. Her dementia has taken a turn for the worse. She hasn’t done anything but mutter the past couple days.”
“What’s she saying?” Addison asked.
The nurse shrugged. “Hell if I know. Ms. Long, it’s Nurse Helen. I’m gonna give you your medicine now. I need you to take this all, okay?”
When Ms. Long didn’t answer, Helen took a bottle of pills out of her pocket, compared them with the bracelet around Ms. Long’s wrist, and popped the cap. Addison and I watched as she put two pills on the elderly woman’s tongue and helped her wash them down with a drink of water. Then she evened out the bed again and left.
“Now what?” Addison asked, looking at me.
My body had been tortured today, but I still had a little spirit left in me. Determined to kill it, I said, “Let’s go see Grandma.”
“Lead the way,” Addison said, and waved her hand toward the door.
“God, you two stink to high heaven,” Grandma said when we walked in. Then her eyes widened as she looked over Addison’s attire. “Is that one of those bondage get-ups? You know we don’t allow that Fifty Shades of Grey business here, right?”
“Grandma!” I gasped. “How do you know about Fifty Shades?”
Addison giggled.
“Oh, don’t get your panti
es in a wad. You know I don’t read that filth. I caught Brandy watching the movie at the nurses’ station late one night. That girl.” She shook her head disapprovingly. “Scandalous. You know she won’t tell anyone who the father of her child is?”
“Brandy has a kid?” I asked.
“That explains those hips,” Addison mumbled.
“Yep. He’s almost a year old now. Rumor has it one of the town big shots is the father. Married, to boot. Figure he must be pretty well off to pay for her boob job.”
“Wait, Brandy got a boob job?”
“You really couldn’t tell?” Addison asked. “Honey, there’s no way those are real.”
I’m sure the two of them were only trying to be helpful, but conversations like this one had me seriously doubting my life choices. After all, what business did I have becoming a private investigator when I was apparently the least observant person on the planet?
“Any idea who Brandy’s baby-daddy is?” Addison asked, scooting closer to Grandma.
“I don’t listen to gossips,” Grandma said. “But if I did...I’d bet it was either Dicky Jones or Marty Coldwell.”
My jaw dropped.
Addison read my expression and asked, “Should I know those names?”
“The first one’s the district attorney, and the second one’s the county judge,” I answered.
Addison whistled. “Dylan, your home town drama is soap opera quality.”
“You’re tellin’ me. Why do you think I left?” Then I remembered why we’d come to see Grandma in the first place. “Getting back to the subject at hand...we stopped in to see Ms. Long. What happened to her?”
Grandma’s eyes turned sorrowful. “Martha was doin’ well until about a month ago. Doc said the dementia got her. They been upping her prescriptions but if you ask me, they seem to be makin’ her worse.”
“It’s like everyone in here has dementia,” Addison observed.
I filed that little piece of information away, thanked Grandma for her time, and Addison and I headed out. We had a lot of video footage to go over and I still needed that bath.
Addison
“SO, BRANDY’S PUTTING things back?” I asked, staring at the screen. My eyes saw it, but my brain refused to believe it. “On top of that, she’s making out with the district attorney and throwing herself at Wyatt? So, she’s an honest slut?”
“We don’t know that she’s throwing herself at Wyatt. That’s a rumor.”
“You were awake and watching this footage with me, right? She fluffed her breasts before she approached him! Who does that?”
“Uh...” Dylan eyeballed me. “Do you really want me to remind you?”
“Okay, fine. But at least I’ve never kissed a married man. She and the DA were sucking face in the hallway of the nursing home.”
Dylan frowned. “Yeah, that part doesn’t make sense. She knows there are cameras in the hallways. Everyone in this town gossips.”
“But does anyone in this town review the footage?” I asked. “Other than the sight of Mrs. Rogers smacking Wyatt on the ass, this isn’t exactly riveting viewing material.”
“Good point. But still...the married DA? You’d think she’d be more careful than that.” Dylan rewound the video and we watched Brandy kiss the district attorney again. “See, she initiates it. And she’s like, smack dab in the middle of the camera. Why would she do that? Something’s off.”
“Do you think he’s her baby daddy?” I asked, watching the evil couple and wondering what their spawn would look like.
Dylan shrugged. “Who knows? She sleeps with a lot of men.”
“Daddy issues.”
“I have daddy issues,” she countered. “I haven’t slept with anyone. You have daddy issues, and you’re not a tramp.”
“Yeah,” I acquiesced. “It kind of makes me feel sorry for her, though.”
Dylan sighed. “Me too. I can’t imagine being stuck in this place with a baby and no way out.”
“No. Money does give one choices.”
“Yeah, it really does, Addie,” she said, pointedly.
“It doesn’t buy you happiness, though.”
Dylan smirked. “But it can rent it.”
I grinned. “That’s super true.”
“So, we need to find out what Brandy knows and why she’s returning the jewelry.”
I hummed in agreement, leaning closer to the computer screen with a frown. “Isn’t that your dad?”
Dylan mimicked my stance and frowned. “Yep.”
“Why’s he going into Ms. Long’s room?” I asked.
Her eyes didn’t leave the screen, but she gave a small shrug. “Dad used to be pretty tight with Ms. Long’s nephew. They don’t talk anymore, but maybe he still checks in on Ms. Long. She was like family when I was growing up.”
“You’re probably right, but we should check and see when Ms. Long’s jewelry went missing.” I scanned the notepad in my hand, checking for the date. Damn. It was the same. Holding it up so Dylan could see, I asked, “Coincidence?”
Dylan shrugged. “Maybe.”
“It doesn’t mean he did it, buddy. Let’s not jump to any conclusions.”
“You’re right. I just...let’s keep going.”
As we watched, Dylan tallied nurses, doctors, and visitors, checking for consistency against the dates the jewelry went missing. Unfortunately, Dylan’s dad was the only one there for each theft.
Dylan turned off the video and shook her head.
“He could still be innocent,” I said, even though I didn’t see how. “Maybe someone’s framing him.”
Dylan dropped the remote onto the bed and lowered her head.
I rubbed her back. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in that overactive brain of yours.”
She took a deep breath. “He’s guilty, Addie. He did it. There is no setup.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because this isn’t the first time,” she whispered.
* * *
Dylan
Feeling sick to my stomach I closed my eyes, but it didn’t help. I could still see the footage of my father going into each of those rooms. I knew he was guilty. To be honest, I’d had a hunch from the moment he called me, which is why I didn’t want to get involved. This would have been so much easier had we just hired a private investigator from Klamath.
“Ohmigod, would you open up to me already?” Addison asked, gripping her pillow. “Talk before I beat it out of you.”
“Okay, okay.” I threw my hands up in surrender, maybe talking about it would help loosen the knot in my stomach. “It happened the summer before I came up to Portland.”
When I didn’t immediately continue, she gave me her signature death glare. “You’re gonna have to give me more than that.”
“Fine. Just chill the hell out. This isn’t exactly easy for me.”
Her expression softened, and she gestured for me to continue.
“Right after I was accepted to your school I started taking odd jobs...mowing lawns, walking dogs, cleaning, babysitting, whatever I could get. We were broke and I knew I wouldn’t fit in.” I was silly and naïve. “I thought if I raised some money and got some new clothes, maybe I wouldn’t stand out so much.”
Addison gaped at me. “You were what, eleven?”
“Something like that. It’s not a big deal. Lots of people here worked that young to help their families. I mean, nothing full time. Just little jobs. Builds character. Anyway, I saved up a couple hundred dollars, and...”
My throat constricted and I couldn’t force the words out. For so long, I’d convinced myself Dad needed the money. He had to support us, and he was going through a rough time. But now that I was older and fully understood his addiction, the betrayal hurt even more. Which in turn pissed me off, because as a grown-ass woman I should be over it by now.
“That bastard!” Addison stood, the look on her face telling me she’d connected the dots. “He stole from you?”
My eyes
stung, and oddly enough, my immediate response was to defend him. “Booze is expensive.”
Whatever Addison saw in my expression caused her to refill my wine glass and set it on the end table beside me. “Oh honey, why didn’t you ever tell me about this?”
It was such a ridiculous question I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Like when? When we first met? Hi, I’m Dylan. I’m from the sticks. My dad’s a drunk who stole my school clothes money, but he doesn’t beat me or make me go hungry or anything so...”
The next thing I knew, Addison was crushing me in a hug. She let me cry on her shoulder until I pulled myself together and pushed her away.
Wiping my cheeks, I got back to business. “I still don’t understand what Brandy has to do with this. I can’t see her covering for my dad. I mean, she wouldn’t exactly turn him in either. Nobody would.”
“Well, we sure as hell aren’t letting him get away with this,” Addison declared.
She was so cute with all her hope and optimism. She didn’t understand how the town worked. “Addie, my dad has been caught drinking and driving more times than I can count. He’s probably spent a thousand nights locked up, yet has never been charged with anything.”
“Why not?”
I shrugged. “The DA is his second cousin, and he’s related to most of the police force. Dad’s the town butcher...the guy everyone brings their deer to. People have this weird mix of pity and appreciation for him.”
“Nobody’s untouchable.”
“I know,” I admitted. “But we need to make sure we have so much evidence they have no room to screw with this case.”
“Okay, we can do that. We just gotta think about what he’d do with the jewelry. Is there a pawn shop in town, or would he sell to the locals?” I asked.
“I think the closest thing we have to a pawn shop would be the Murphys’ weekly garage sale or the secondhand store, but Dad wouldn’t sell it here. To many busybodies.”
“So what’s he doing with it?” she asked. “It has to go somewhere.”
I pulled out my phone and checked the Internet. “There are three pawn shops in Klamath Falls. It’s about a hundred miles away, but Dad goes there at least every other week for supplies for his butcher shop.”
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