by Diana Orgain
Galigani said what? I was going to have to have a chat with him about that. But I decided to change the subject for now.
“Oh, did Hank mention to you that he knew Leo?” I asked casually. “He told me that when I went to ask him if he’d seen anything suspicious at the studio.”
“What? Oh, yes. Poor Leo. They were part of the same guy’s night, but they weren’t really close.”
I certainly wasn’t going to let on to Mom that I was investigating Hank as a possible suspect. So I just said, “It still must have come as something of a shock. Is he doing all right?”
“He seems fine,” said Mom, resting her hand on Laurie’s back. “We’re going to dinner tonight.”
I gritted my teeth. “About tonight. Any way you can take Laurie for a couple hours? I have a good lead to chase down, and my childcare is evaporating faster than snow in LA.”
“Hmm. Could you try to get back by five thirty? We’re going to a nice restaurant.”
“I will do my very best. Worst-case scenario, you can use the evening to complain about your ungrateful daughter who expects you to be free childcare.”
Mom laughed and kissed Laurie’s curls. “I’m always glad to spend time with this little munchkin, and you know it.”
“Thank you!” I said. “You’re the best.”
Before I left, I touched up my red lipstick and tousled my curls. If I was going to snoop around on the same day as a dance class, I would definitely have a little fun feeling like a film noir detective.
I turned jazz music on in the car and drove to the studio. When I arrived, I decided to park on the Tre Fratelli Danzanti side and walk the short distance to Monte’s. In my short career as a private investigator, I’d had a few incidents of suspects targeting me while I was driving. So, I figured it’d be best that Monte didn’t see what kind of car I drove.
Holding my breath, I pushed open the door to Monte’s studio. Like before, there was no one at the front desk. The office door had been left cracked open, and from the hallway, I could hear the sound of classical music. There must be a class going on somewhere in the back. I gently rapped on the office door. No answer.
Go time.
I stepped into the office. Sure enough, there was no one around. I sat down at the desk and clicked the computer mouse. The screen flashed to life. No password required.
If Monte was involved with something illegal, he sure was doing a bad job of keeping his information secure.
But I wasn’t here to investigate Monte.
I found the office’s accounting software and opened it up. Pulling up the reports, I searched for Hank Henning.
“Bingo!” I whispered.
Five months earlier, Hank had invested twenty thousand dollars in Monte’s studio, buying a twenty-five percent stake.
That was motive. If Tre Fratelli Danzanti went out of business and Monte expanded into their space, Hank stood to make money.
Plus, it struck me as very, very odd that he hadn’t disclosed his business relationship with Monte earlier.
“Well, Galigani,” I whispered. “I might be about to make your day.” I snapped photos of the screen, and heard the sound of voices in the hall. Heart pounding, I darted out of the office. No one in the lobby, but the voices were getting closer. It sounded like a class had just gotten out. I ran into the parking lot.
Home free.
And then relief evaporated, and my blood ran cold as I spotted someone lying face down in the parking lot.
I screamed and sprinted to the figure.
A figure I would have recognized anywhere. My best friend Paula lay still.
I shook her frantically, despair clutching my heart.
“Paula! Paula! Oh my Lord. Please! Paula!”
I was vaguely aware of a crowd gathering, someone calling help. I pressed my face wet with tears against Paula’s and felt her breath on my cheek. I gasped. “Yes, girl. Yes. You keep breathing.”
Chapter 14
I clutched Paula until the ambulance arrived. The paramedics tried to separate us, but I climbed into the back with her and wouldn’t budge.
Halfway to the emergency room, she stirred.
“Paula!” I squeezed her hand. “Are you all right? What happened?”
She blinked a few times, her face pale and drawn. “Kate?” she asked slowly. “What . . . what happened?”
“I just asked you that, silly,” I said, squeezing her fingers and affecting a chipper voice.
“Oh. I don’t . . . remember.”
I glanced at the paramedic, who shrugged and said, “Hazy memory is common after a head injury. It may come back to her, it may not.”
“You’re going to be fine, Paula.” I brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “We’re just on our way to the hospital to run some tests. It looks like you fell and hit your head. As soon as they’ve cleared you, we’ll get you back home to Danny and Chloe.”
After we arrived, they wheeled Paula back for a brain scan, and I paced her hospital room like an agitated raccoon.
“Darling!”
I whirled around to see Mom in the doorway. “Mom!” I rushed to her and crumpled into her embrace. “Paula’s hurt—”
“I heard,” she said, her usual dramatic manner subdued. “Petunia called me. How bad is it? Will she be okay?”
“I think so. She woke up. They’re scanning for brain bleeds now.” Then I stood up straight. “Where’s Laurie?”
“With Kenny,” said Mom serenely. “When I told him what happened, he dropped everything to come pick her up.”
I let out a little sigh of relief. Twitterpated or not, Kenny really could be depended on in a crisis.
Mom led me to a chair. “He’s performing in a show tonight, so you do need to get back to pick up Laurie soon. But first, sit down. You need to relax, dear.”
“How can I relax?” I cried.
“Well, you may not be able to.” She gently rubbed my shoulders. “But you’re certainly not going to succeed by pacing like that. Now, I called Paula’s parents. They’re at Lake Tahoe, but they were going to pack their things and drive back immediately. Renee asked if I could stay with Paula until they got here. I canceled on Hank.”
“I can stay with Paula,” I said quickly.
“You need to solve this case,” Mom insisted. “Paula didn’t just fall. Petunia saw someone hit her over the head. It has to be related to the case. Go get Laurie, call Petunia for more details, and then sit down and do whatever brainstorming thing you do. You can do this. You’re a natural.”
“I don’t know if I can, Mom,” I whispered. “I keep coming up on dead ends, and now my best friend is hurt.”
She knelt next to me and looked me in the eyes. “I’ve always been proud of you, my dear, but never more so since you had Laurie and took up this new, adventurous career.”
Tears brimmed in my eyes.
She continued, “You’re a great mom and a great investigator, and seeing you succeed has been the greatest privilege of my life. Don’t tell your brother.”
I laughed and wiped away the tears. “Okay. I’ll go solve the case. As soon as the doctors let us know about Paula’s scan results.”
“Kate!” Kenny exclaimed when I walked into the house. He and Laurie were sitting on the couch, reading a board book. “How’s Paula?”
“She’s going to be just fine,” I said. “She has a concussion, but the imaging of her head looked pretty good, the doctor said.”
“Oh, thank goodness.”
Laurie reached for me, and I picked her up and gave her a big kiss.
“Thanks for coming on such short notice,” I said. “How’s Odette?”
A grin tugged on the corners of his mouth. “She’s beautiful, as always.”
I rolled my eyes and sighed dramatically, but then shot him a wink. “I hear you have a performance tonight?”
“Yup! For a one-night only musical with a full band. Odette’s going to come see it.”
“Nice!” I hig
h-fived him with my free hand. From the look in his eyes, I knew I needed to add something else to my to-do list: find a new babysitter. I might not be comfortable with Kenny’s relationship with Odette, but he was infatuated, and it didn’t look like it was going away anytime soon.
He’d come through for me when I needed him, but I probably shouldn’t count on him to be Mr. Reliable anymore.
“Just be careful, all right?” I said. “She’s quite a bit older than you.”
He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, imitating me. “Yes, Mom.”
“Hey, now! I feed you meat pizza and all the cheese you want, and your mom only makes vegan food.”
Shuddering, he said, “If I have to taste tofu one more time . . .”
“Get out of here.” I waved him off. “You need to change and warm up. Get to your show early and work off some of the jitters.”
I spent the early evening making a chart about the case. To anyone else, it would have looked like a huge mess—arrows pointing everywhere, lines drawn between persons of interest, six different colors of highlighter. But it helped me organize all the thoughts bouncing around in my head. But for one all-important question, I couldn’t even dream up a reasonable theory
Why would someone attack Paula?
Maybe she’d seen something right before she was hit over the head, and she just couldn’t remember?
Whiskers jumped in my lap, and I petted her absentmindedly.
But what could Paula have seen? Had some sort of evidence been left behind in the studio, something that neither the police nor any of the rest of us had been able to uncover? My head spun.
Sometimes cases got extra personal. Investigating my brother-in-law for murder had been personal. Going toe to toe with Jim’s crazy ex-girlfriend had definitely been personal. And now this one had crossed that line. I’d wanted to solve the case to help save Dave’s studio, but now the killer was coming after my best friend?
“You messed with the wrong private investigator, pal,” I muttered under my breath.
A knock sounded at the door, and I jumped. But it was just Mom.
“Hey,” I said, “Paula doing any better? Come in. I don’t want Whiskers to get out.”
“They discharged her,” Mom said, coming inside.
Relief flooded me. “I’ll call her!” I said, grabbing my phone.
“Let her rest,” Mom said. “You can call her tomorrow. And here.” Mom held out my black coat. “She asked me to bring this back to you. Something about high school and a polka-dotted sweater.”
“Oh. Right. I’d already forgotten she had it,” I murmured, reaching for the coat. “Thank you.”
Then the scene flashed in my mind—Paula crumpled on the ground . . . wearing my black coat.
“The hood was up,” I whispered. “She was wearing the hood.”
Mom tilted her head in silent question.
The pieces clicked together, and it finally made sense.
My heart lurched and panic swelled in my chest. “They weren’t targeting Paula,” I blurted. “They mistook her for me.”
A resigned look crossed Mom’s face, and I realized she’d already figured that part out. “Be careful, dear,” she said. “Should I stay here until Jim gets back?”
“The contractor is here, and I think that would dissuade anyone from trying something,” I said, glancing out the window at the street. “But let me check when Jim is coming home.”
Glancing at my texts, I realized I’d missed a couple of messages from Jim.
Invited Dave and bros over for dinner at seven. Forgot to tell you. Sorry.
My heart stopped. It was 6:17! I didn’t have the time or bandwidth to plan and cook a meal for guests in less than forty-five minutes, much less clean the house. I had a case to solve!
But then I read Jim’s next message. Don’t worry, I’ve got everything covered. Check the backyard.
With a raised eyebrow, I showed the messages to Mom.
“Well, that’s mysterious,” she said. “Should we check it out?”
It was after sunset but before last light. I carried Laurie to the kitchen and peered out the window, looking for signs that anything was amiss. I couldn’t see past the overgrown bushes in the planter beds, but it seemed like there was somehow a light on in the yard.
Odd. Then suspicion tightened my throat. What if the killer had somehow gotten to Jim? What if they’d stolen his phone and were trying to lure us into the backyard?
I texted Jim, Tell me the name of your hermit crabs.
As a child, Jim had moved around a lot, and his parents had used it as an excuse for why they couldn’t have traditional pets like dogs or cats. To compensate, they’d bought him a series of much-loved hermit crabs, and Little Jim had called all the crabs by the same name.
Jim texted back almost immediately. Captain Hook, why? I’m at the grocery store. Home in fifteen. Have you checked the backyard yet?
Relief flooded me, and I motioned for Mom to follow me out onto the patio. When we went outside, my breath caught in my throat.
Our usually unkempt backyard lawn was mown, and a square pergola had been erected over our neglected outdoor table. The new structure smelled of fresh cedar. Two lines of elegant string lights ran from the corner of the house to the pergola, casting gentle yellow-white light, and more bulbs were draped beneath its eaves.
“When did you do this?” Mom cried.
“I . . . I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve seen it.” We drew closer to the pergola, and I realized that our outdoor table and its eight chairs had been re-stained and the grimy grill scrubbed until the stainless steel shone.
Jim really had taken care of everything. And, really, the timing of the dinner was perfect—chatting with Dave, Jack, and Eddie might actually help me make progress on the case.
In the fairy-tale lighting, Mom looked positively incandescent. “Jim did it as a surprise for you? Why, the sly fox. He didn’t breathe a word about it to me.”
Elbowing her, I said, “And you’re already scheming to sneak back here with your boyfriends for romantic dates.”
“Certainly you’ll have to let me have a nice dinner here with Galigani. You can’t keep this ambiance all to yourself, dear.”
“I should probably at least clean the bathroom before the guys arrive,” I said. “Could you play with Laurie while I give it a quick once-over?”
Ten minutes later, I declared the bathroom to be good enough. Mom pulled out of the driveway just as Jim drove up. I met him on the front porch. “Jim!” I cried. “It’s beautiful! How did you pull it off?”
He climbed out of the car and started hauling in our groceries. “Jo-Jo already had the wood,” he said, “and he gave us a great price on doing it as an add-on. I think he felt bad about the sewer incident. He put up the pergola and hung the lights, and I stained the furniture, scrubbed the grill, and mowed the lawn. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
We went inside, and when he set the groceries on the counter, I stood on my tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek.
“You haven’t even seen what I got yet!” He started unpacking the bags. “Steaks for the grill, Caesar salad in a bag, and pre-cooked mashed potatoes.” With a deep bow, he added, “You’re welcome.”
I put the potatoes in the oven on the “keep warm” setting, and Jim seasoned the steaks.
“As soon as the guys get here,” he said, “I’ll fire up the grill!”
Dave and Eddie arrived right on time, Dave holding up a six-pack like it was a trophy as they walked into the backyard. Jim high-fived him and grabbed one of the beer cans.
“Oh, is it okay that I brought beer?” asked Dave, turning to me. “I just now remembered that you can’t drink because of the babies.”
“Go on ahead. Doesn’t bother me a bit,” I said from my seat at the outdoor table. Dave and Eddie joined me while Jim fired up the grill and started cooking the steaks.
“Hey, how’s George?” Eddie called to Jim.
Jim glanced over at us with a wry expression on his face. His younger brother George was always a source of drama in our lives. “Hopefully getting into less trouble these days. He and his fiancée have a baby.”
I really should call my soon-to-be sister-in-law, Kiku.
“Oh, do you like the fiancée?” asked Dave.
“Yeah,” said Jim, “she’s a nice girl. She’s good for him.”
Dave looked over at Laurie and held his arms out. “Wanna come see Uncle Dave?” he asked in a baby-talk voice.
She turned her face away from him and cuddled closer to me.
“Ha!” said Dave. “Someone’s a mama’s girl, huh?”
Kissing her head, I said, “I think she’s been missing me. I’ve been running around even more than usual the last week or so.”
“Thank you for that.” Dave’s face took on a serious cast. “Really. I don’t think you know how much we appreciate your efforts.”
“Speaking of my efforts, can we chat a little about the case?”
“Absolutely!” He took a slurp from his beer can. “Do you have any updates?”
“Nothing too concrete just yet, but I’m trying to double-check all the threads to see if I can find something that might point us in a tangible direction.”
Jim joined us at the table. “Where’s Jack?”
Eddie glanced at his phone. “Running late, I guess.”
“That’s not like him,” said Jim, tapping his beer can.
“I’ll call him.” Eddie stood from the table and walked to the far side of the pergola while he dialed.
I asked a couple of questions about the dance teachers, and Eddie returned to the table shrugging.
“Oh!” Dave exclaimed, an exasperated expression on his face. “Did you see the paper today? They ran another piece about the murder and the fundraiser. We just can’t get out from under the bad publicity.”
“We should lean into it,” Eddie argued, pressing his fingertips together. “Do something murder-mystery themed. We could announce it at the dance. Could we put together an escape room or something?”
Dave glared at Eddie. “Have some respect. A man is dead, and someone attacked Paula!”
