But if I tried to link every clue I came by to an actual piece of evidence for the police, we’d never solve any crimes.
“It still doesn’t link directly to Carmichael,” I admitted.
“But Carmichael’s behaviour is now in question.” It was, but only because Danvers believed me. If he were any other cop, the lack of evidence and the witness statements would have protected Big Wig. I even think Detective Pieter’s would have taken longer to accept my version of events. He would have come around eventually. But not as quickly as Alex did.
Why? Why was Alex so sure he could trust me? Because he knew something about what I did? I wasn’t sure, and right now, I couldn’t work it out. I was just thankful that Danvers was on my team.
“We need Carmichael to think we believe his version of events,” Danvers announced.
Which meant I was likely to be the talk of town gossip within the hour. Getting high at a corporate event I was working at and running out on Tammy Matthews and her catering company would make for interesting fodder.
“Great,” I muttered.
“It’s the only way,” Danvers pressed. I believed him. I just didn’t like it. “If he thinks he’s still in control of the situation, then he’ll be free to make a mistake.”
“I’m not sure he’s the mistake making type.”
“Oh, he is,” Danvers said viciously. “He made the mistake of thinking we’re hick cops with little experience and even fewer skills. He didn’t count on me, and he didn’t count on you.” I was gathering Constable Candy and No-Name were not yet counted in the same category as us. I also thought that perhaps Detective Pieters was being lumped in with the constables, too.
“I’m relieved you see my worth, Detective,” I said. “But if I’m to be discredited, how am I to help you?”
And how were we going to find Mikey?
I was beginning to lose faith that he was still alive. It had been three days now. Three days was a long time to keep someone hostage and alive. If the Rikas didn’t know where their youngest son was, then he wasn’t in hiding. Mikey was not the sort of guy to go it alone. He needed his family. And more importantly, he needed their money.
Mikey Rika had expensive tastes.
“For now, the best thing you can do is go home and act the invalid,” Danvers said. “Play the part Carmichael has written for you. He’ll expect to see you tucking tail and hiding. Do it. Meanwhile, I’ll be out in the open expressing my appreciation of his quick actions in firing the idiot who tried to kiss you.”
I scowled at him and narrowed my eyes.
“I don’t like this plan,” I said.
“Do you think I do? I want nothing more than to lay into the man, but if we’re to convince him he’s home free, then we have to play our parts.”
I sighed. “OK, but for how long? I’m not sure I can sulk at home forever.”
“Not forever. Just until this afternoon. Until I’ve had time to prove my…inadequacies to him. Then you can make a trip to your favourite café for some comfort food.”
“The Coffee Cube,” I said, getting an inkling of where he was going with this.
“If I approach the Rikas, this will break wide open. But you can. Find out if anything has changed. They trust you.”
“Not all of them,” I muttered.
“Tia does.”
Yeah. But for how long? I hadn’t found Mikey. I had no clue where to look. But checking up on Tia made sense, and if we were lucky, I’d get a touch. I’d get something that would point us in the right direction.
I didn’t usually let my ability lead me around by a leash. I liked to ferret clues out the old-fashioned way. Most of what I did was straight from Investigating For Beginners 101. It just always came with a side order of neck. Flying blind, however, was not my forte.
Still, it was a plan. And it was more than I had anyway.
“OK,” I said, not sounding happy about it.
“Summer,” Danvers said carefully. “If a missing person isn’t found within the first twenty-four to forty-eight hours, the chances of finding them alive diminishes significantly. We’re heading into the seventy-two-hour mark.”
“I know.” I felt sick again.
“It doesn’t mean we won’t find him. It just means it might be time to pray for a bit of luck.”
I nodded.
“I’ll have Constable McQueen drive you home. He’s just pulled up out front.”
“My car’s still at the Shimmering Sands,” I said.
“No, I had it searched and towed back to your house.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised. But I had gone missing.
Still..
“That was a bit premature, wasn’t it?” I said. It’s not like I’d been gone long when he would have done it.
He smirked. “Suspicious circumstances.”
“Sure.”
“And I was curious.”
“Yeah, that’d do it.”
“You are a strange woman.”
“And that makes you curious?”
“Absolutely.”
Figures.
I pushed up from the chair I’d commandeered and saluted.
“Catch ya on the flip side, Detective Douche.”
He grunted but didn’t reply.
I found Candy in the front of the police station, chatting up Maisey Young. Maisey had been a year behind me in high school. She was mousey but cute. The librarian look worked for her nicely. Wire-rimmed glasses, shoulder-length, nondescript brown hair, and freckles dotting English rose skin. She was a dichotomy of beauty. Suzy would have said she was bland. I thought Maisey was a stunner.
“Summer!” she said, rushing around the front desk, ignoring whatever Candy had been saying and wrapping me up in her arms. She just about squeezed the air right out of me. “I was so worried about you! I said to Detective Danvers, if there’s one thing I know about Summer O’Dare, she doesn’t run from anyone. You were always larger than Larry.”
“You mean, ‘larger than life,’” I told her.
“That too.” She cocked her head and pushed her glasses up her nose. “How are you? Did you get in trouble with the new detective?”
I opened my mouth to tell her, “Of course not.” But thankfully snapped my teeth together before I could let the incredulous sounding words fly free.
We were playing a part, Danvers and I. I didn’t like it, but it had to be done.
“Kinda,” I mumbled. “Not really,” I added. “I want to go home.” I looked at Candy.
“Come on, Ms O’Dare,” he said. “I’ll drive you.”
“Oh,” Maisey said, tucking her hair behind her ears nervously. “I was so sure you wouldn’t have run.”
I stopped at the front door of the police station and looked back at the little librarian.
“Hey, Maisey,” I said. She looked up at me. “How many cops does it take to change a lightbulb?”
She blinked at me.
“None. They just arrest the bulb for being broke,” I said.
Slowly, she smiled at me.
“I heard that, Ms O’Dare!” Danvers shouted from out the back.
“I’m not the lightbulb,” I whispered, but Maisey heard me. “Even if I look like one.”
Her smile brightened. “Gotcha,” she said.
Danvers had deserved that. I might play the role he’d asked me to, but not to my friends. At least, not to those who needed it. And Maisey, crazy as that gal could get, needed to know I hadn’t run.
Being the nerdy little librarian in school had been hard for Maise. Being the receptionist at the police station when she graduated had helped. It gave her street cred. But Maise was always scared she’d lose her job. Budgets at a small town police station were tight. And when I was hired, they got even tighter. And not once, not ever, had Maisey treated me anything less than nice. Even when my presence meant her position was in jeopardy.
I liked Maisey Young.
Candy held the front door of the police car op
en for me. I thanked him. I was just happy not to be shoved in the rear where it automatically locked. He slid into the driver’s side and started it up.
“Find anything at the Shimmering Sands?” I asked him.
He flicked a glance at me; doubt and indecision flashing in his eyes. Candy didn’t believe me, then. And Danvers hadn’t told him that he did. I tried not to sigh.
“Nothing, Ms O’Dare,” the constable said and started to drive.
Chapter 18
Curiosity Killed The Cat, But Who Cares About That?
I wanted Doug. But I’d not thought to ask Constable Candy if he’d swing by my great aunt’s house before we’d left Mangonui. And I wasn’t sure he would have let me put my dog in his back seat, anyway. So, I trudged into my quiet little house with my tail between my legs, feeling lonely.
At least my performance would have been convincing.
But because of the act I was playing, I also couldn’t get into my car and speed back to Mangonui and pick up Doug myself. I settled for a telephone conversation with Sadie, getting her to put the handset to Doug’s ear. He barked and then snuffled the microphone, and then I was pretty sure he tried to eat it. I had to listen to Aunt Sadie scold him for five minutes straight before she realised I was still on the line.
In the end, I just missed my dog more.
Perhaps, Danvers had had another reason for insisting I spend the morning at home. I certainly wasn’t feeling myself.
I took a shower and dressed in my most comfortable cut-offs and an oversized t-shirt. This one had a picture of Oscar the Grouch on it saying I Didn’t Choose The Street Life; The Street Life Chose Me. I snatched up a bottle of beer from the fridge and headed out onto the back deck. Coopers Beach greeted me.
Curling up on the swing seat, I set it swaying, and took a sip of my drink. I could hear kids laughing. Dogs barking. Seagulls cruised through the air like curb crawlers looking for some happy. The sun warmed my cheeks.
Mikey was still missing.
I wanted to be doing something. I wanted to be out there, trying to get a hit. Anything. But Big Wig needed to think I’d been cowed by Detective Douche and Danvers needed to do his thing. I wondered how that was going. The detective had looked ferocious when he’d said he wanted to lay into Carmichael for abusing me.
I felt warm inside that he wanted to defend my honour like that.
Or it could have been the beer talking.
And then I thought of Suzy.
What was someone like Danvers doing with someone like Suzy? She was a demoness. A soul-sucking succubus; although I had it on good authority that Suzy was more than happy to suck other things behind the school bike shed. And Danvers didn’t seem like the kind of guy to get lured behind the bike shed.
Maybe I’d misjudged him. That was after thinking I’d misjudged him in the beginning. So that would mean my initial judgement still stood. He was a douche.
I snorted and took a swig of my drink.
The beer was calming me, and Coopers Beach was steadying me. By the time midday came around, I’d be ready for the Coffee Cube and facing Tia Maria. I just needed another beer first.
I got up and went into the house, making my way to the kitchen. I hadn’t opened the windows up; I’d welcomed the warmth when I’d first come home. I hadn’t felt warm since I’d woken up this morning at the Shimmering Sands Apartments.
It was only as I walked past the kitchen window overlooking the front of the house that I realised Charlie was back. His Holden sat in my visitor’s carpark, but he was nowhere to be seen. I opened the window, but I couldn’t hear any sign of him. If he’d come in, he may not have known I was home. I’d been out on the deck; my car was hidden in the garage; as it wasn’t locked, Danvers must have had the towie push it inside. I was surprised - and glad - he hadn’t hit the side of the building and made the thing fall down on top of it. A soft breeze could almost do it.
But there was a chance Charlie didn’t know I was home.
I changed direction from the fridge and its offerings to Charlie’s wing of the house and some potential company. I really wasn’t myself right now. Stepping into the hallway that led to his room, I heard him talking. For a second, I thought he’d brought some company home. Who would Charlie get busy with? Had he met someone at Tokerau Beach?
I was meticulously drawing the tableau in my mind even as I kept creeping toward Charlie’s room for a sneaky peek. The guy would be muscular and bronzed, all hard-earned at the beach, surfing waves and sunbathing. I was hoping for a blond, because blonds have more fun, apparently. But I’d settle for anything as long as he didn’t cut his hair too short. Surfers were meant to have shaggy hair; Charlie did.
But when I came abreast of his open door, I realised he was on the phone; he didn’t have any company. Curses, foiled again!
“Something’s definitely happened,” I heard him say. “Mangonui’s in play. Kaitaia is on the move. If this ends up where I think it’ll end up, there’ll be fireworks.”
I crept closer, and a board beneath my feet creaked.
Charlie swung around and stared at me.
I smiled and waved, feeling like the most inept private investigator there had ever been. Even my house was out to embarrass me.
“I’ll update you later,” Charlie said and disconnected his call.
“Sorry,” I said, grimacing. “I thought you knew I was home. Actually,” I amended. “I thought you were entertaining and I wanted to act like a creeper.” He blinked at me. “I’d really like to know what sort of bed buddy you go for.”
He let out a huff of breath.
“Duuuude,” he said. “Really?”
For the first time since he’d arrived here, I felt like his surfer persona was an act.
“Yeah,” I said. “I pegged you as gay. Am I right?”
“You don’t hold back, do you, Summer?”
That wasn’t an answer. “Curiosity killed the cat, but who cares about that?” Dogs rule. Cats drool.
“You are a strange woman,” he said.
“Not the first time I’ve heard that today.”
He cocked his head. “What are you doing home in the middle of the day?”
“House arrest,” I told him. Something made me keep my secrets. It wasn’t my neck; it was all in my head. Charlie wasn’t who he said he was. Which begged the question, Who was he? “I got into a bit of trouble last night.”
“Are you all right?” His concern seemed genuine. I ignored it.
“Shaken. Embarrassed. But not stirred.”
He shook his head. “I came home to grab a bite to eat, and then I’m hitting the beach,” he told me.
“Surf’s up?”
He opened his mouth and then slowly shut it, his big brown eyes surveying me. “Not as much as I’d like,” he finally admitted.
He was onto me. I suddenly wanted to get out of my house.
“Well, have fun,” I said. “I’m hankering for a donut.”
“Nothing new there, then,” he said, smiling.
Was that smile a lie? It damn near broke my heart. I’d liked Charlie. He’d been a good house guest. But if he wasn’t who he said he was, then he was definitely getting an eviction notice. As soon as I Googled the legalities of that.
“OK, then,” I said. “Have fun.” I was repeating myself.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Charlie asked.
“Fine.”
“You can talk to me, Summer,” he urged.
I think not, Dr Evil, I said in my head.
Aloud, I offered, “Just a bad night, that’s all. Nothing a donut and coffee won’t fix.”
“I restocked the fridge,” he rushed to say.
“I noticed.”
“I also drank all of your beers. Did you notice that?” I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but I thought, perhaps, he wanted to make me feel comfortable with teasing banter.
I did not feel comfortable right then.
“I don’t mind,” I told him a
nd waved as I turned away.
“It was your beer,” I heard him mutter. Was I supposed to show more outrage at him helping himself to my beer?
I was playing too many different parts in this play. I wasn’t even sure if Charlie’s subterfuge was tied up in the murder case and Mikey’s absence and Big Wig’s stolen intellectual property. Was he just hiding out here for some totally unconnected reason? Or was he part of this mess?
I wanted to scream; I was so frustrated. And my neck remained silent.
Stupid neck.
I swung by my office and opened my safe, all the while I kept looking over my shoulder as if Charlie was about to storm into the room and whack me over the head with his surfboard. A surfboard that probably saw no gnarly waves. Gnarly Charlie indeed. I huffed. Grabbing my handbag, I checked my gun. And then I hightailed it out of my own house, not so much with my tail between my legs, but definitely with my ears pinned back.
I could not get out of there quick enough.
Thank the donut gods that it was finally past midday and I didn’t have to stuff up Danvers’ plan by escaping my house sooner than expected. I might have hated the plan, but it was the only plan we had.
It took less than two minutes to make it to the Coffee Cube. Not nearly enough time to come to terms with this change of events. Even the holiday traffic was against me. Where were all those obnoxious camper vans? I parked right outside - of course, I did - and just sat there, thinking. Breathing. Praying for answers.
It didn’t work.
Tia spotted me and stormed out of the Cube, fire in her eyes, a scowl on her face, and her fingers tipped in lethally sharp claws.
I might have imagined that last bit, but she did look frightening.
I wound down my window and met her dark gaze.
“Are you all right?” she said.
Not the words I’d expected.
Chasing Summer Page 15