The Hitwoman and the Chubby Cherub
Page 11
Grabbing her leash, I latched it to her collar and off we went.
Once again we headed toward Kevin Belgard’s house. This time there were no cops in sight.
“We’ve got to get into that house,” I told DeeDee.
She swiveled her gaze in my direction without lifting her nose away from the fire hydrant she was sniffing.
“If I can find what Belgard was hiding I might be able to figure out what happened to Darlene.”
Remembering how Patrick had told me to stay away from the blonde woman at one of Belgard’s regular stops, I frowned. It was so typical of the redhead to do something without offering an explanation. In the beginning I’d just thought it made him mysterious, but now I found it annoying and frustrating.
I was still scowling when I realized that Delveccio’s bodyguard, Gino, was standing a few paces away.
He raised a hand in greeting.
It was unsettling how easily he found me. I tightened my grip on the dog’s leash. Sensing the increased tension she looked up and then focused on the man standing near us.
“Trouble?” she asked through bared teeth.
Gino blanched.
“Relax,” I said to both of them.
“Boss wanted me to give you this.” Gino pulled a dvd from his pocket. “You gonna refuse him again?”
“I didn’t refuse him last time. I only wanted to discuss it.” I walked toward him and held my hand out.
He handed the plastic case to me without taking his eyes off the dog. “He says time is of the essence.”
“It always is.”
His gaze swung over to meet mine. “So I can tell him you’ll take care of it?”
I nodded. “Piece of cake.”
I should have known better than to say that.
Chapter Nineteen
Marshal Griswald was sitting on the front porch of the B&B when I returned.
Seeing me, he waved me over to join him.
“Kind of cold to sit outside,” I said as I climbed the stairs.
“I was waiting for you.”
My stomached tensed nervously. “Does this have to do with my father?”
He shook his head. Then he cocked his head to the side and focused on my right wrist. “Brian said your father manhandled you.”
I shrugged as I settled into the chair nearest him.
“Are you okay?”
Unable to once again defend Dad, I focused on DeeDee, who’d gone and sat by the Marshal so that he could pet her while we talked. “Have you told Aunt Susan?”
Griswald shook his head. “I assumed you wouldn’t want her to know, so I respected your wishes.”
“Thank you,” I murmured. “Things are bad enough without adding that into the mix. We were arguing before the police arrived,” I confided.
“About what?”
I sucked in a painful breath at the memory of my father’s admission about the fifth tree. There’d been so much chaos afterward that I hadn’t really processed the information. A tightness squeezed my chest, making it hard to breathe.
Sensing my distress, DeeDee left Griswald’s side and rested her chin on my knee, staring up at me with sympathetic eyes.
The Marshal waited patiently while I composed my thoughts. I considered telling him what I’d learned, but then decided it would put him in a difficult position if I asked him to keep the revelation a secret.
“Family history,” I said finally. It was enough of the truth that he didn’t question me about it further.
“Did you get the answers you wanted from him?” Griswald asked quietly.
“Partial answers. That’s all I ever get from him.”
The man sitting beside me didn’t comment on that. He just reached across the space and patted my shoulder, offering silent support.
I thought about asking Susan about the fifth tree, my brother, but I wasn’t sure that was the best idea. She’d gone to a lot of trouble over the years to keep the family together. I found it hard to believe that she would have just let my mother’s firstborn disappear from our lives.
No. There was something going on with my brother. I’d have to force the information from my father.
The thought of him made me cringe inwardly.
“You don’t happen to know how the police found us, do you?”
“Police work,” he replied easily. “Your dad visited one of his known haunts. An officer spotted him and tailed him to his meet with you.”
“Thank you. It’s nice to have at least one mystery in my life solved.”
Griswald cocked an eyebrow, obviously curious about the statement, but thankfully he chose not to pursue it.
I took a deep, shaky breath. “Just think,” I joked weakly, “if it wasn’t for my dad, you and Aunt Susan would have never found one another.”
“I think about that a lot.”
Surprised, I glanced over at him.
He shrugged sheepishly. “Fate works in mysterious ways.”
“I guess so.”
“I want to tell you something, but I’d like to keep it just between us. Is that okay with you?”
I nodded, wondering what secret the straight shooter lawman wanted me to keep.
“I’m going to retire and--”
“Because of my father?” I interrupted, horrified at the thought that he had ruined Griswald’s career.
He shook his head. “No. He was a contributing factor, but there are a lot of other reasons. The biggest thing being I’m tired of running around, chasing after criminals. I want some normalcy and stability. I want to spend my life with Susan.”
“You do realize that spending time with Susan sort of negates any chance you have of normalcy, don’t you?” I joked.
He grinned. “I’m willing to make that concession.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “She’s lucky to have you.”
“I’m lucky to have her.”
“But not so lucky that she comes with the rest of us.”
“The rest of you aren’t so bad,” he excused lightly. Then growing serious, he leaned forward and added, “So you’re okay with this?”
“Of course.”
He sat back. “I’m glad to hear that.”
I shivered against the cold breeze that blew across the porch.
“I think I’ll head in,” I told him.
“There’s one more thing,” he said before I could stand.
“What’s that?”
“The handcuffs.” He pointed to the fuzzy handcuffs looped on my jeans.
Having dutifully carried them for days (after all, Armani had once given me a shark’s tooth that had saved my life)I’d forgotten the cuffs were even there. “What about them?”
“They make Susan nervous.”
“Nervous?”
“Loretta’s a walking billboard for The Corset. Susan is concerned you’re becoming the same.”
I chuckled. “These were given to me by Armani.”
He waited, because apparently being given fuzzy pink handcuffs by your psychic friend is not enough reason to wear them around.
“I’ll try to alleviate her fears,” I finally promised.
He nodded, letting me know he found my response appropriate. “Appreciate that.”
--#--
What I appreciated was the support of my pets.
Sure they sometimes drive me crazy, but they always come through for me. Especially when it comes to things like breaking and entering.
Which was why, under cover of darkness, all four of us snuck out of the basement and headed for Belgard’s house.
DeeDee led the way since she’d been there so many times before. God, cushioned between my breasts, which, one would assume, forms a pretty warm air pocket, muttered about exposure and hypothermia. Piss brought up the rear, but she kept scooting off to chase prey, if the screams of terror from the creatures of the night were any indication.
“Back door, DeeDee,” I told the dog once we’d reached the property. I didn’t dare us
e a flashlight for fear of drawing attention to our break-in, so I stumbled as I traversed the unfamiliar terrain.
“If you fall and flatten me, you shall never be forgiven,” God warned.
“You’re doing just fine, sugar,” Piss assured me even as I stepped on a tree root and twisted my ankle.
“Ow!” I whisper yelled.
“Way this! Way this!” DeeDee panted.
Limping, I followed the sound to the back door of the house.
“Now what?” Piss asked as we studied the door.
“You should get a lock pick set,” God opined.
“And where do you suggest I pick one up?” I snapped. “The hardware store? The everything only costs a buck shop?”
“The redhead should be able to get one,” the lizard responded haughtily. “You musn’t act as though I’ve suggested the impossible.”
“Real not. Real not.” DeeDee pawed at the ground.
“I could break the window,” Piss suggested. “You know how destructive we feral cats can be.”
“Feral?” God scoffed. “More like spoiled rotten.”
“No more indulging your locavore preferences,” the cat hissed, none too subtly reminding him that she wasn’t so spoiled that she couldn’t hunt for his food.
“Real not,” DeeDee repeated.
“We should have known our plan of ingress before coming out into the bitter cold,” God complained.
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him aloud, but as I stood there, with my twisted ankle aching and no way to get into Belgard’s place besides breaking a window, I wasn’t inclined to disagree with him.
“Me to listen,” DeeDee insisted.
“Must we?” God asked with a long-suffering sigh.
“Real not,” the dog panted yet again.
“What does that mean?” I asked her, ready to limp home and call it a night.
She pawed at the ground. “Real not.”
I gingerly stepped beside her and bent to see what she was talking about.
She tried to turn a rock over with her paw, but wasn’t able to.
Deciding to indulge the dog, I reached for it. As soon as I touched it, I knew what she meant. “The rock’s not real.” My heartbeat sped up a little at the thought that it could be a hidden key holder. I flipped it over. Sure enough, there was a door on the bottom.
“Good girl.” I rubbed her chest. “You found it.”
I popped out a key.
“Impressive,” Piss admitted.
God remained silent.
My hand shook as I tried to unlock the door. I wasn’t sure if I was trembling because of the cold, because of the adrenaline rushing through me, or because I was suddenly a step closer to finding Darlene.
Whatever the reason, everything changed the moment I stepped through that door.
Chapter Twenty
You’d think that creeping around the home of the recently deceased in the dead of night would be eerie, but I was on a mission and marched around the place like I owned it. (Except for those couple of times I walked into walls or tripped over furniture.)
Still, my sense of purpose made my motions confident. With the dog and cat trailing behind, I made my way directly to the linen closet on the second floor.
The cops had probably thoroughly searched most of the house, but I doubted they’d found the false wall in the back of the closet, just over the bottom shelf.
Kneeling down, I quickly transferred a pile of beach towels and toilet paper off the shelf.
DeeDee sniffed every item I removed carefully.
Piss weaved her way under my arm so that she could get a better look at what I was doing.
Even God emerged from his warm hiding place to perch on my shoulder to see what I was up to.
Reaching into the back, I pressed hard against the right hand corner and was rewarded by the wood shifting beneath my hand.
I lowered the false bit of wall onto the shelf, getting ready to reach inside the hidden compartment.
“There could be spiders,” the lizard warned.
“There are no spiders,” I told him as a shiver of revulsion ran down my spine.
“You don’t know that.”
“Well, I’m about to stick my hand in a hole I can’t see, so I’m hoping that there are no spiders. Besides, you eat insects. Why are you scared of spiders?”
“Spiders,” he informed me with haughty disgust, “are not insects. They’re arachnids.”
“No one likes spiders,” Piss added for good measure. “It’s all those legs.”
Shaking my head, I held my breath and stuck my hand in the compartment.
I felt no insects. Or arachnids.
I felt something smooth and hard. I pulled it out.
“It what is?” DeeDee asked.
“It feels like a book. Maybe a journal.”
Suddenly there was a creak and a crash.
I’m pretty sure my heart stopped. I know I stopped breathing.
The creak and crash was followed by a shuffling noise
I grabbed the dog’s collar before she could go investigate the source.
“There’s someone else here,” God whispered.
“No shit,” I whispered back, holding on to the dog’s collar with one hand and reaching back into the compartment with the other. This time I pulled out an envelope.
“I’ll check it out.” Piss moved stealthily in the direction of the noises, which were coming from the first floor.
“Sit,” I whispered to the dog.
She grudgingly lowered her butt to the floor. Even though I couldn’t really see her, I knew she was vibrating with energy.
“Stay,” I ordered. Slowly, taking care not to make any noise, I got to my feet, with the book and envelope in one hand and a roll of toilet paper in the other.
We waited in silence for the cat to return.
After what felt like forever, but was probably mere moments, I felt her brush against my leg.
“It’s a chubby guy in a red suit,” she whispered.
“Claus Santa?” DeeDee panted hopefully.
“There is no Santa Claus, you imbecile,” God ranted.
“Stop squeaking,” I ordered on a whisper.
The noise downstairs stopped.
I wondered if the man in the red suit, who I assumed was the Cupid Killer, had heard us.
Footsteps slowly began to climb the stairs.
He was coming, and there was nowhere for me to hide.
I held my breath as though that would magically make me invisible. I didn’t dare move for fear I’d alert him to our presence.
I clutched the toilet paper tighter. After all, it was the only weapon I had at hand.
“I’ll distract him and y’all make a break for it,” Piss said, stress strengthening her Southern drawl.
Before I could protest, she raced down the hall, disappearing into the darkness.
“Easy now,” God urged DeeDee and me from his post on my shoulder. “Timing will be everything.”
So we waited in the shadows, waiting for Cupid to reach the top of the stairs, waiting for Piss to distract him.
When he got to the top step, a scratching noise could be heard from the end of the hall opposite us.
The man hesitated for a moment, listening.
Finally he went to investigate.
As he moved toward the sound, the dog and I crept toward the stairs.
“Stay between us and the man,” the lizard ordered the dog.
I slowly began to descend the staircase while DeeDee kept guard at the top.
“Drop the toilet paper and use the bannister before you get us both killed,” God demanded.
Instead of dropping it, I carefully placed the roll on the step above me before grabbing the rail as the lizard had suggested.
I was halfway down the flight of stairs when Piss began to hiss, “Here he comes! Here he comes!”
Giving up any effort to make a silent escape, I panicked and beg
an to run.