Crack the Code (Glock Grannies Cozy Mystery Book 5)

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Crack the Code (Glock Grannies Cozy Mystery Book 5) Page 8

by Shannon VanBergen


  Lira Asuza emerged a few minutes later. She tossed her long black hair over her shoulder, revealing what I assumed to be dangly emerald earrings. She was stunning and just as exotic looking as the flowers in her front yard.

  I expected her to be angry and make us leave, but she was actually kind and invited us into her brightly decorated living room before even asking who we were.

  “My name is Geraldine Dean,” Grandma said to her. “And this is my daughter’s daughter, Nikki.”

  Lira smiled at me and spoke in a beautiful accent. “I love your hair.”

  I had talked Grandma into styling it for me since I still couldn’t figure out that dumb wand. Grandma was able to make it look just as good as Kaylee. But I couldn’t believe someone as beautiful as Lira was complimenting me. I smiled back and said thank you.

  As I listened to her and Grandma make small talk, I couldn’t believe this woman was married to such a jerk. What could she have possible seen in him? From what I read on the internet, most of the money they had was hers from before they were even married. So, if it wasn’t for the money, then what was it?

  After Grandma explained why we were there and that we wanted to ask a few questions about her late husband I was surprised that she obliged. “Of course,” she said. “How can I help?”

  “Can you tell us if he had any injuries recently?”

  Lira furrowed her perfectly groomed eyebrows. “No, not that I know of.”

  “So, he wouldn’t have any reason to take pain medication or muscle relaxers?” Grandma asked.

  Lira ran her hand over her lap to straighten her dress. “No, he hated taking medication. In all the time I’ve known him, he hasn’t even taken a Tylenol.”

  Grandma asked if she knew of anyone that might have been after her husband and Lira looked concerned. “He was a hard man. If you could win his trust, he would treat you well and you would be his friend for life. But if you didn’t…well, there were many people that never made it to his inner circle, no matter how hard they tried.”

  “Do you think someone might have been jealous?” Grandma asked. “Maybe someone that wanted to get in good with him, but he wouldn’t let them?”

  “I really don’t know,” Lira said. “He was quiet about outside things and dealings.”

  Grandma was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know how to ask this but…do you think it’s possible he had a mistress?”

  Lira smiled, which surprised me. “You know how some men are,” Lira said. “They like to flirt.”

  “So, you don’t think he had a girlfriend then?” Grandma asked.

  “He had so many dealings with people, I couldn’t even begin to know who everyone was or wasn’t.”

  Grandma and I looked at each other. She was playing with us. She was coming across as sweet and helpful but in reality, she wasn’t answering our questions.

  “Well, we’ve taken up enough of your time,” Grandma said standing. “We’ll be on our way. Thank you for taking the time to speak with us.”

  She led us to the door and before we walked out, she stopped me. “Your hair really is beautiful. You must tell me who does it for you.”

  I reached back and fluffed it. “Thank you. I just got it done at the Hair Bar. A girl named Kaylee Palmer did it for me.”

  Her smile fell and anger flashed in her eyes for just a moment. Then the smile returned and, with a saccharine voice, she wished us a lovely day.

  The look on her face said more in that moment than she did during our entire conversation. She knew exactly who Kaylee Palmer was and she knew she was more than just a stylist.

  18

  “Well, what did you think of that?” Grandma asked as we drove away.

  “I think she knew her husband was having an affair,” I answered.

  “So, you caught that look too.” Grandma turned down a street I didn’t recognize. “If looks could kill, someone would be investigating our murder next.”

  “Do you think she did it?” I asked. “Do you think she killed John?”

  “I think she has a motive. But she doesn’t really strike me as the kind of woman who would kill someone with a snake. I think poison maybe, but probably not injecting venom.”

  I thought about it for a minute. “Well, she could’ve hired someone. She definitely has the money for it.”

  “That’s true,” Grandma said turning into a neighborhood and slowing down a bit.

  “Why are we over here?” I asked as we drove past several houses that all looked identical to each other.

  She looked at her phone then up at the houses. “We’re making a little stop.” She looked at her phone again as she slowly drove down the street. “We’re looking for house number 1105.”

  We drove a few more yards and then Grandma stopped and pulled over to the curb.

  “Who lives here?” I asked.

  She put her phone in her purse and unbuckled her seat belt. “I looked up Lucca Harris’ address while we were at the café. Since he doesn’t live far from Lira’s house, I thought we’d stop by. It’s early afternoon so he might be in class, but there’s a car in the driveway so maybe someone’s home. Maybe one of his parents can talk to us.”

  We got out of the car and made our way to the door. The car in the driveway had a sticker for student parking at Peace Pointe Community College so I had a feeling Lucca was there. But would he want to talk to a couple of strangers? I guess we’d find out.

  A woman answered the door and I assumed it must be Lucca’s mom. Her hair was in a messy bun and she wore a t-shirt and shorts and a pair of fuzzy pink slippers. Giant yellow rubber gloves covered her hands and she held them up like she was dealing with something radioactive.

  “I’m so sorry to bother you,” Grandma said, since we clearly interrupted her. “We were wondering if we could speak to Lucca.”

  The woman frowned. “Is he in some kind of trouble?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that,” Grandma said quickly. “We are looking into the death of John Asuza and we had a few questions for him.”

  The woman’s mouth fell open and a look of panic flooded her face.

  “No! We don’t think he had anything to do with it,” I jumped in. “We’re just trying to get some insight into their feud.”

  The woman huffed. “A feud makes it sound like it was two sided, and it wasn’t. That man was constantly putting my son down to anyone who would listen. If you want to talk to Lucca be my guest but I don’t know that he can tell you anything that would be helpful.”

  She turned and hollered to him. “Lucca!” she bellowed. “Come down here. There are some people who want to talk to you.”

  She looked back at us. “I’m Lenora, by the way. I’d shake your hand but…” She held up her hands. “I’m in the middle of a battle with a toilet and I’m afraid the toilet is winning.”

  Lucca came down the stairs and towered over his mom. He was at least six foot and he frowned when he saw her gloves. “Are you messing with that toilet? I told you I’d take care of it myself.”

  “Well,” she sighed, “if you’re not at school or practice you’re upstairs on those video games. Things need to be done around here and I can’t always wait for you to get around to do it.”

  Lenora turned to us. “I better get back to work. It was nice meeting you two.”

  Lucca stood there staring at us. “So, what’s up?”

  “Would it be okay if we came in?” Grandma asked. “We’d like to talk to you about John Asuza if you have a minute.”

  He rolled his eyes. “The guy was a jerk.”

  “We know,” I answered. “We just have a few questions.”

  He stood there thinking it over and I was sure he was going to say no. But he finally said yes and waved his arms toward the living room so we could sit down. While Grandma and I sat on the couch, he sat on a chair adjacent from us, his long legs stretching out to the middle of the room.

  “So, who are you two? You don’t look like cops.”

&nb
sp; “I’m Geraldine Dean, and this is my daughter’s daughter, Nikki and we’re…”

  He furrowed his eyebrows and cut her off. “Wait, wait…daughter’s daughter? Like, she’s your granddaughter?”

  I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “She doesn’t like to call me her granddaughter. It makes her feel old.”

  Lucca laughed. “My grandma is the same way. We have to call her Mimi.”

  Grandma shot me a look. “Why can’t you call me that? How cute is that!”

  “Let’s not have this conversation here,” I begged. “Actually, if we could not have this conversation ever…”

  Grandma rolled her eyes. “Anyway, sometimes we work alongside the police and we just have a few questions for you.”

  I inwardly laughed. Alongside the police? Maybe alongside in that we ran our own investigations at the same time they did theirs.

  He slumped down in his chair like he was trying to get comfortable. “I’ve already talked to the police.”

  That shocked us both.

  “The police came here and questioned you?” I asked.

  “Ya.” He leaned forward and took out his wallet. He pulled out a card and looked at it. “Some detective named Owen Russell.”

  Well, that was unexpected.

  “What did he want with you?” Grandma asked.

  Lucca was no longer lounging casually in his chair. He sat up, clearly irritated. “An alibi basically.”

  “He didn’t think you had anything to do with the murder, did he?” I asked.

  Lucca leaned forward, his voice getting angry. “I don’t know, I had a motive, I guess. I had to deal with that jerk putting me down on his podcasts, on social media, on his weekly tv show…he was against me the moment I became a high scorer. People used to tell me to ignore him, that he only had a beef with me because I wasn’t from Florida. But I always thought he didn’t like me because his nephew was on the team and he was just mad because I played more than he did. But then today I got this.”

  He reached in this pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. My breath caught in my chest. I knew what it was before he even handed it over. I read the letters on the paper.

  TWKITQAU

  “Did you give this information to the police?” I asked, taking a picture with my phone.

  He shook his head. “No, it just came this afternoon. It was taped to the door in an envelope with my name on it.”

  Grandma looked at me, concerned. She looked back at Lucca. “Do you have any idea who this is from?”

  “I have no idea. It’s like it’s a message from the grave or something, confirming why everyone thought he hated me.”

  I was confused. “Confirming? Do you know what it says?”

  “Ya,” he said, reaching out to take back the slip of paper. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out. It’s a ROT-8 code.”

  “How did you know what it was?” I asked surprised.

  “I play a lot of video games and we use ROT-13 a lot. I typed it into a decoder online and it popped up. Pretty easy if you know where to look.”

  I had no idea where to look. I was decoding it the good ole fashioned way with a pencil and paper and the alphabet scribbled out in front of me. I’d have to find this online decoder thing. Then again, it would kind of take the fun out of it.

  “So, what does the code mean?” Grandma asked.

  When he told us, I got a shiver up my spine. It really was like a message from the grave.

  19

  On the way back to Grandma’s house I pulled out a piece of paper from my purse and wrote down the code and its meaning.

  “This is all so strange,” I said, looking over the list. “Why would someone do this? Why leave these codes?”

  “Text the others,” Grandma said as she drove. “Have them meet at our house after dinner. We need to figure this out.”

  I sent out a quick text and Greta replied back right away that she’d be there. Virginia’s text came a few minutes later, but by the time dinner came and went, there still wasn’t a reply from Hattie or Irene.

  Greta and Virginia walked in as Grandma was putting a coffee cake on the table.

  “Oh perfect!” Greta said. “You have the coffee cake, we have the coffee!”

  She sat the drink carrier on the table and I noticed there were only four to-go cups. Virginia handed me my vanilla latte. “I sent Irene a text and asked if her and Hattie were coming since they never responded to our group text and she said no, her and Hattie had plans for the night.”

  Grandma cringed. “I wonder what those two are up to. Actually, I probably don’t want to know.”

  We all sat down as Grandma cut into the coffee cake, placing four pieces on plates and then sliding them over to us. The table was quiet and the tension in the air made my stomach turn. I didn’t like confrontation, but I didn’t see how we could get through this meeting without it. Grandma might be okay letting go of what happened at lunch, but I knew Virginia wouldn’t.

  Greta looked at me and winced. She could feel the tension too. It was just a waiting game to see who would bring it up first. To my surprise it was Grandma Dean.

  “Virginia, your boyfriend, what was his name? Hershel, right? He seemed like a very nice man.”

  Virginia burst into tears. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about him. We’ve only gone on a few dates. Greta didn’t even know about him.”

  That really surprised me. I looked at Greta and she looked a little hurt.

  “Why would you keep him a secret?” I asked Virginia. “We would’ve been supportive. We all want you to be happy.”

  She glanced at Grandma but didn’t say anything. What was going on? Why this secrecy? And what was up with Rosa’s comment earlier?

  Grandma ignored the fact that everyone was staring at her and poked at her coffee cake. “I bought this from Gunthry's Market. I even got to talk to Sam. He said his granddaughter is going to have her baby any day. We should really put together a basket or…”

  “Geraldine,” Greta said softly. “I think it’s time.”

  Grandma looked around the table and then nervously laughed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Greta. I was just upset earlier that Virginia didn’t tell us she was seeing someone. Surely that hurt you too.”

  Now all eyes were on Greta. “I was…but…” She was so flustered all the sudden and her eyes filled with tears.

  Virginia leaned over and hugged her, sobbing. “I’m so sorry. I won’t keep anything like this from you ever again.”

  “I want to support you and be there for you,” Greta cried. “You’re my best friend.”

  “I know, and I want you to be there for me. And I want to be there for you!”

  Greta wiped away a tear with a tissue she pulled from her purse. “Are you two serious? How did you meet him?”

  “He works security at the courthouse,” Virginia said, pulling out her own tissue. “He’s the nicest guy, but I think he’s more into me than I am to him. But I’m not going to lie, it’s been fun to have the attention of a man again.”

  Greta laughed through her tears. “Does he have a brother?”

  Virginia laughed too. “I don’t even know! How terrible is that!”

  The two friends hugged and cried a little more, all the while Grandma sat there looking at her untouched coffee cake.

  Finally, Virginia let go of Greta and then the table went silent.

  Greta cleared her throat and spoke gently. “Geraldine?”

  Grandma looked up at her, fighting back tears in her own eyes. “What?”

  “You need to face your past. You see the rift it’s causing here?”

  Grandma huffed for a minute and the tears were suddenly gone, sucked back in by indignation.

  “My past has nothing to do with this.”

  Virginia leaned over and took hold of Grandma’s hand. “Can you look at me and honestly say that when you saw me and Herschel together, and when you see Hattie and Lloyd together, it doesn’t hurt your he
art a little?”

  Grandma looked at her like she wanted to say no, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, her mouth just hung open.

  Finally, she shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “You need to know what happened to him,” Greta said gently. “You owe it to yourself.”

  We all sat there silently for a minute until I couldn’t take it anymore. “Okay, I’m totally in the dark here. Is someone going to fill me in?”

  The grannies looked around nervously, but Grandma looked at me and smiled. “I’ll tell you later,” she said. “I promise.”

  Greta and Virginia relaxed and both smiled. “And I promise not to keep my boyfriends a secret.”

  “You better not,” Grandma laughed. “I nearly got shin splints running across the road like that.”

  We all laughed and just like that, all was forgiven.

  “Now that that’s out of the way,” I said pulling out the piece of paper from my purse. “Let’s talk about this case and these codes.”

  Grandma got Virginia and Greta caught up. She told them about our visit with Lira and then with Lucca.

  “That Harris boy got a code too?” Greta asked. “What did it say?”

  I studied the list. “It said ‘localism.’ What does that even mean?”

  Virginia looked like she was thinking. “I think it means that you have a preference for things coming from your own area. Right?”

  Grandma took a sip from her coffee. “So, that’s why it was given to Lucca? A reminder that he wasn’t liked because he isn’t from here?”

  Greta shook her head. “Who is doing this? And why?”

  “Nikki, read us the list again,” Virginia said. “Maybe if we hear them all together it will make sense.”

  I looked at the paper. “Piper’s code said, ‘Let’s have some fun.”

  “So, if that’s connected to this case,” Greta said interrupting me, “then this is a game to this sicko.”

 

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