by J. C. Kenney
“That’s okay. I’ll pay Marinara’s a visit and ask Freddie who delivered pizzas to the library in the last week.”
“I thought of that. What if the driver denies any knowledge of the marijuana? Then you’re back to square one.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. This is a lead I have to follow up on. Besides, when needed, my interrogation techniques are much more effective at withdrawing information than what you’ve experienced.”
There was an edge in Matt’s voice I hadn’t heard in a long time. It was intimidating and threatening. It made me happy I wasn’t the delivery driver.
His current demeanor notwithstanding, it was time to suggest an alternative course of action. One with which he probably wouldn’t be thrilled.
“What if the dealer’s connection is worse than you? You can threaten jail time, but they can threaten worse.”
“That’s when I get the prosecutor involved. Let the perp plead down to a lesser charge in exchange for giving up his supplier.” He rapped his knuckles on the desktop two times. “No muss, no fuss.”
Shoot. Hadn’t thought of that. I scratched my forehead to buy some time to regroup. “Okay, but what if you can’t get the perp to talk? You can only hold him so long before you have to release him, right?”
Matt crossed his arms and frowned. “And I suppose you have a better idea?”
“Since you asked.” I got up to stretch my legs. And to go through my pitch in my head a final time.
Vicky must have been looking down upon me from above, because there was a knock on the door. It was Jeanette. Matt waved her in. If she was back already, it had to be good news. At least, I hoped it was good news.
“Sorry for the interruption, Chief, but I thought you’d want to know. A preliminary check indicates the parchment paper from last night is the same paper from the first package Allie found. Permission to run additional tests?”
“Interesting.” Matt rubbed his hands together. “You may be on to something, Allie. Make it so, Jeanette.”
“Chief, is it okay if she stays? I’d like her to hear my suggestion, too.” It would be easier for Matt to reject my suggestion if he was the only one in the room. If she thought my idea had merit, he might be willing to try it out.
He gestured toward another visitor chair in a corner of the office.
It was time to present my case like I was pitching a book I loved to an on-the-fence editor. “With the information you have, Chief, it makes perfect sense to contact Marinara’s. The problem lies in the fact that, barring a confession, there’s nothing to connect the delivery driver to the marijuana.”
“I’m afraid she’s right, Chief. The only fingerprints I came up with belong to Allie and Vicky Napier.” Jeanette had her own little notebook out. “Whoever else handled them used gloves.”
“So, what if you set a trap for the perp at the library?”
Matt tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. “A trap? Seriously? You’ve been watching too much Scooby-Doo with the twins.”
“Word’s already out that marijuana was found at the library. Outside of this building, nobody knows how much, though. Am I right?”
After an exchange of glances, Matt and Jeanette nodded.
“It’s common knowledge I’ve been clearing out Vicky’s office. I can make sure people know I’ll be at the library again tonight. After closing time. By myself.”
“Maybe I haven’t had enough caffeine, but I’m not following.” Jeanette tapped a pencil on the cover of her notebook. “Why would anybody care about that?”
“I get it.” Matt touched his finger to his nose then pointed it at me. “Very clever. You want to lure the perp back to the library. Catch him in the act of trying to retrieve his contraband. With you as the bait, no doubt.”
“Exactly.” I pounded my fist on the arm of the chair as adrenaline surged through me. My plan was coming together. “Think of me as a confidential informant, or something like that.”
I opened my notebook to a page where I’d sketched out the library. “Here’s what I thought we could do. First—”
“No.”
I waved his interruption away. He just needed to see more of what I had in mind, so I began describing the building’s layout.
A large hand came down on top of my map with a smack. “I said no, Allie. This is a police matter. I appreciate you wanting to help, but this isn’t your job. It’s ours. You’ve almost gotten yourself killed playing cop. No more.”
At first, my brain didn’t make sense of his words. He wouldn’t even let me lay out the plan? It was a good plan.
Then it dawned on me once I paid attention to what he’d said. It wasn’t the plan Matt was worried about, it was my safety. It was his job as police chief to protect me from harm, not put me in harm’s way.
“Okay. I get it. You don’t want me getting hurt. I’ll admit I haven’t always used good judgment in the past. This time will be different. Especially because I want to use backup.”
Matt opened his mouth, but Jeanette headed him off.
“Hear her out, Chief. I agree, she’s gone off half-cocked in the past. She’s got good instincts, though.”
It was all I could do to stop myself from rounding on Jeanette. Half-cocked? That was a bit harsh.
“Fine. Let me hear it.” Matt flipped his notebook to a new page.
“The first thing I want to do is arrange a visit with an old friend.” Once I had their attention, neither Matt nor Jeanette spoke a word until I’d taken them through the scenario from start to finish. They’d both taken copious notes, though.
The silence was deafening while I waited for a response. Matt was scratching his forehead and frowning as he studied his notes. Jeanette went to the map of Rushing Creek on the wall and stared at it. After tracing her finger along the Boulevard as it ran through town, she turned around.
“It might work, Chief.” In rapid succession, she ticked off a handful of points supporting my idea.
Matt drummed his fingers on the desk. It was a good sign he hadn’t rebuffed Jeanette outright. The final decision was his and his alone, though.
“Tell you what. Tommy’s on duty tonight. I’ll put him on this.” He held up his index finger. “Tonight only. If nothing happens, that’s it.”
I sprang out of my chair, the sweet taste of justice already on my tongue. “Thanks, Matt. You won’t regret this.”
“I hope not. Now, get out of here before I change my mind. I’ll brief Tommy when he reports for his shift.”
Another of Allie’s Rules for Investigating—when the police chief tells you to do something after agreeing to your plan, you do it. With a plan in place, I headed out the door.
After a glance over my shoulder to make sure Matt hadn’t changed his mind and was coming to get me, I e-mailed the library to let them know I’d be back in the evening to finish my project. Seconds later, I got a reply from Vivian thanking me for helping out and promising to let the evening shift know they should expect to see me. It was so helpful to know the people there.
With that piece of the puzzle in place, it was time to find Rushing Creek’s preeminent rumormonger.
It was only a little after nine in the morning, which meant it was too early for Maybelle to be holding court outside the pharmacy. Even though living in a small town often meant others knew my business, it also meant I knew theirs. Case in point, since it was Friday, she’d be having coffee at the diner.
I found her seated at a booth with two of her retired teacher friends. After getting a cup of coffee to go, I wandered in her direction, pretending to be checking my phone.
“Allie Cobb, what are you up to this morning?” Maybelle made room on her side of the booth and patted the open spot.
Perfect. I joined the women and got the conversation going with the normal small talk.
It wasn’t long b
efore Maybelle put her hand on mine and patted it in a motherly fashion. “I understand you’ve been helping out at the library. I simply can’t believe the news about Vicky.” She shook her head. “I never figured her for a drug user. It’s scandalous.”
The other women nodded their heads in agreement.
I bit my tongue. Maybelle had provided the opening I needed, though.
“It’s very sad. The police say there was only the one package, so I guess it could be worse.”
“One package?” Maybelle raised her eyebrows. “I heard they found more than that.”
“It was just the one.” I took a drink of my coffee.
All three were leaning toward me. Like fish caught on a line, now all I had to do was reel them in.
“At least I hope so. I need to go back there tonight to finish cleaning out Vicky’s office. I’d hate to come across more.”
They leaned back, each nodding and exchanging knowing glances. I wasn’t a mind reader, but I didn’t have to be one. They knew my history as a crime solver and knew I had reliable contacts within the police department.
They’d bought the story hook, line, and sinker.
“Isn’t returning to the library dangerous? I mean, after what you found? Who knows what else might be there?” Maybelle ran a hand over her gray hair, as if she was preparing to start the rumor mill yet again.
“From what I understand, they did a thorough search of Vicky’s office. I’m sure they found all there was to be found.” I glanced at my phone. “I’m sorry, ladies, but I have to get back to my office for a call. It was great chatting with you.”
I made for the door with a smile. Word of our discussion would be out before lunchtime. My plan was officially in motion.
Chapter Twenty-One
When it came time to meet my maker, one of the things I was going to have to answer for was my behavior toward Maybelle Schuman. She wasn’t a bad person. She just had a lot of time on her hands.
I firmly believed she didn’t consider her gossip hurtful. It seemed that talking about people was a way for her to stay connected to the community. With her children in other parts of the country and her husband deceased, the retired teacher clearly wanted to stay a part of the Rushing Creek fabric. So, she chose to gossip.
Countless times over the years, I could have called her out about the damage her storytelling did to innocent people. Yet I’d always held my tongue. At first it was out of respect for all she’d given to my hometown. In the past couple of years, it morphed into a way to pump her for information.
Today, I’d taken it a step further. I was using the woman to spread my lies. I could try to rationalize it until the day I died, but it was still a smarmy means to an end. If the end resulted in catching a murderer, I could live with the consequences of my dubious behavior.
And ask for forgiveness next time I was at church.
With some time to kill before I put step two into place, I headed to the apartment for some agent work. Besides, I’d told the women I was going home and wanted to look convincing.
At noon there was a knock on the door.
I welcomed Sloane with a big hug. “Right on time.”
“I didn’t think getting together for lunch was a big deal. Do you know something I don’t?” My bestie’s eyes went wide as she put her hands over her mouth. “Ohmigod, you’re pregnant. Congrats!”
Before I could correct her, Sloane had thrown her arms around me and was jumping up and down.
“Sloane. Sloane.” It wasn’t until I shouted her name that she stopped bouncing me up and down like a pogo stick. I held my excitable, wonderful friend still until she was looking me in the eyes. “I’m not pregnant.”
“Oh.” She tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear and plopped down on the couch. “Well, that’s good. I mean, you and Brent aren’t even engaged, much less married. Your mom would have gone through the roof. You have been practicing safe sex, though. Haven’t you?”
I did a face palm as my cheeks turned into two blast furnaces. This was clearly what I got for my underhanded behavior with Maybelle.
“We’re not discussing family planning right now. I need your help with something else. Something important.”
Ursi jumped onto Sloane’s lap and started rubbing the side of her head against Sloane’s hand.
“Family planning’s important. After all, you’re on the wrong side of thirty. That biological clock’s ticking away. Isn’t that right, Ursula? Your mommy needs to be thinking about these things.”
My traitorous feline responded with a full-throated meow and gave me an accusatory, unblinking stare. She wouldn’t be getting any kitty treats for a while.
“We’ll talk about that later, Sloane. For now, I need you to focus. I need your help to catch Vicky’s killer. Tonight.”
Sloane’s hands, which had been scratching Ursi behind her ears, stopped mid-scratch. “You’ve never asked me to help with one of your investigations before. Do I have to do anything dangerous?”
“Depends on if you consider having lunch at the pub dangerous.” I told her my plan for the trap at the library and how she could help with it by discussing certain parts of it with me over lunch. The discussion would be just loud enough for nearby diners to overhear us, which was what I wanted.
“Wow. Are you sure about this? Your plan for lunch seems okay, but tonight sounds pretty risky.” Her voice went up at the end. She did that when she was worried about something.
“We’ll be at the pub for lunch. It’ll be fine. Tonight, Tommy Abbott will be parked close to the library for backup. Matt’s having us use a two-way communication setup.” I showed her a tiny plastic device that would go in my ear. “I’ll use this and a thing that goes around my neck. They’ll connect to my phone via Bluetooth. When the time’s right, I’ll call Tommy to establish the connection. Easy peasy.”
“If you say so. At least the only thing dangerous about the pub is the damage eating there does to my waistline.” Sloane gave Ursi a snuggle and got to her feet. “Let’s do this. For Mrs. Napier.”
A few minutes later, we arrived at my sister’s restaurant. Since it was noon on a Friday, the place was packed. Exactly as I’d hoped. The greeter offered us our choice of two tables, one along a wall, the other in the middle of the room.
We chose the one in the middle.
Once we were seated, Sloane started fidgeting with her hair. The poor thing was getting nervous. Unless I calmed her down right away, she’d end up in a full-on anxiety attack. And my cover would be blown.
I went for the one thing guaranteed to make Sloane smile and forget about her troubles. I asked her how married life was treating her.
“OMG, Allie, it’s amazing. To be honest, I was afraid that, after a few months, things might become routine, or, I don’t know, the whole fairy-tale vibe would end. Instead, it keeps getting better. The other day, Luke told me he was going to put a garden in the backyard so I could have fresh vegetables. Can you believe that?”
“No way.” Actually, I could totally believe it. A few weeks ago, Luke had asked for my thoughts about the idea. He’d been trying to figure out a way to help Sloane with her training and thought fresh vegetables might help her nutrition. I told him it was a fabulous idea.
What I didn’t tell him was how much my heart melted as he talked to me about how much he wanted to help Sloane. He was my brother, after all. I didn’t dare risk getting too mushy with him.
The transformation in Sloane was stunning. She stopped messing with her hair, eased back into her chair, and ordered fries with her club sandwich. She only ate fries when she was relaxed.
Now that she was calmed down, I was ready to move forward with the plan. I asked what she had planned for the evening. When she was finished answering, she asked me the same thing.
I let out an overly loud sigh to attract some attentio
n. “I have more work at the library. I promised them I’d finish cleaning out Vicky’s office tonight. I’m going in at closing time so I can work without distractions.”
“Ugh. I wouldn’t want to go back there.” Sloane scrunched up her nose. “Not after what you found.”
With some effort, I suppressed a smile. My friend was putting on an Oscar-worthy performance.
“I know. But it was only one package. Besides, the police did a search and didn’t find anything else.” I shrugged. If Sloane could act, I could do the same. We needed to be as convincing as possible, after all.
“Did they search the whole building?”
This was the key question and Sloane nailed it, even raising her voice just loud enough to appear unhappy with my answer.
“No. Just the office. Think about it. If she was really smoking pot, she would have been crazy to keep it where someone might come across it.”
I glanced around while I took a sip of water. If people were eavesdropping on us, they were doing a good job of hiding it.
“You’re right. It just blows my mind our sweet, old librarian was a pothead.”
“Please don’t use that term when talking about Vicky. I’m sure she had a good reason for doing it. My guess is it was to help her manage pain she didn’t want anyone to know about.”
“Sorry.” Sloane stared at her plate for a moment. When she raised her head, her cheeks were pink. Now, that was convincing.
“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. It just hurts having her memory tarnished. I wish I’d never found that package.” I was laying it on a little thick but didn’t want to risk being too subtle.
“If you hadn’t found it, someone else would have.” Sloane took a deep breath. “Let’s be happy it was only one bag of pot and not anything worse.”
“Agreed.” I clinked my glass against hers. It was the signal we were finished.
Had we been loud enough without making our intent obvious? Had we provided enough information? Had anyone been paying attention? If so, did those who overheard us even care?