Shady Shenanigans in Iowa

by Wendy Byrne

  Rhyming again? I felt like I was in the presence of Dr. Seuss. In a box or with a fox? The old story pinged around my brain. Maybe I'd had a bad experience with rhymes in my past days at that prestigious nursery school I'd attended in Manhattan.

  She shook her head before I could answer. "Wait. I believe it's a woman, two men, and a boat that are making you feel afloat."

  Great. Now I had two men to worry about. "I appreciate your psychic abilities, I truly do, but I need some direction on a problem involving my friend."

  "Nate?" Why could she roll that name off her tongue so easily when anything involving me she resorted to nursery school rhymes?

  "I…we need some direction in helping him," I said firmly, hoping she'd get the hint.

  She closed her eyes for what felt like forever. Finally, when she opened them, she was back to pinning me with that very scary staring thing she did. Her eyes seemed to quiver—or maybe it was my overactive imagination working, but I swear they got bigger and wiggled.

  "He didn't do it, but that doesn't mean he won't go to jail."

  There was a group shout. "What?"

  "He can't go to jail. He didn't hurt her," I protested, as if that would make any difference.

  "Ah, but she's been hurt in the past by this man."

  I shook my head. "Not Nate. No way. He didn't hurt her. I know it."

  Cleo stared at me while the ladies went completely silent. "In the past he hurt her, but not physically. Sometimes words hurt even more."

  Talking about a side to Nate I hadn't seen before made me uncomfortable. Then again, he had an intense cop edge to him most times, so some of what she said made sense. And he was a straight shooter, so if she had a problem with drugs and/or alcohol, he would have told her that without hesitation.

  "But is Jen dead? And if so, who killed her? You need to give me a description." I needed to cut to the chase, or we'd be beating around the bush forever. And as far as I was concerned, the sooner we got out of here, the happier I'd be.

  As usual.

  Cleo closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. "It is not for me to say, as they have a penance to pay."

  This rhyming thing got on my last nerve, especially when I had to use so much brain power to try to figure things out. Usually that didn't happen until after I was knee-deep in doo-doo. Was it too much to ask for a little shortcut along the way?

  Seriously, the woman needed to throw me a bone occasionally, and I'd be forever grateful. I might not even complain so much about coming to see her.

  Scratch that. I'd still complain.

  "My mind is spinning. There's no chance of winning unless you start at the beginning. If you plant the seed, you'll find who did the deed."

  Make it stop. Please, universe, make it stop. Why did I think it was a good idea to come here again?

  "Can you be a little clearer? Like can you tell me if Nate will be arrested?" If I knew how far along they were with the investigation, I'd know how quickly I needed to pursue all these non-clues she was tossing out. The woman could try the patience of a saint.

  She shuffled her tarot cards as the Qs peered over my shoulder. "I'm afraid it's right here." She pointed to one of the cards. "There is very little hope, and I see something about a dope."

  Well, that left the possibilities wide open as far as I was concerned. That could mean anyone from Jen's brother, Drew, to a whole host of others.

  "Do you mean a dope as in a not very bright person or dope as in drugs?" Viola asked.

  Thank goodness Viola had brought up the obvious that I'd failed to see. With Jen's history, I was betting on the latter. Naturally I had assumed the former, since that was normally how I rolled. I always bet on the wrong horse. Then again, with the group of misfits for suspects, anything was possible.

  "Hmm…I believe it might have to do with drugs, now that you mention it."

  I didn't know if I was more relieved that she didn't rhyme or that she confirmed what I'd been afraid of all along. Either way, we gained absolutely nothing by this charade of a line of questioning. The woman couldn't articulate a phone book without making it into mush.

  "How about Izzy? Is she going to run into danger?" Alice had to ask the question that I was afraid would come up. I was torn about knowing my future. It kind of creeped me out. No, it straight-on creeped me out. I didn't want to know too much about what danger I might encounter. But the question was out there, and I had to be a big girl and suck it up. "And how about my new boyfriend Barney? What do you think of him? Is he the one?"

  "Barney could go either way. As for now it's hard to say." Cleo turned her attention on me and gave me a weak smile, terrifying me. The woman never smiled. I could only assume it meant bad news. There was no explanation other than she was buttering me up to take a tumble.

  "Do you have a twin?" Out of everything I thought she might say or ask, that wasn't on my radar of possibilities.

  "I'm an only child."

  "Hmm…that's very strange." She grasped my hand and stared into my eyes like she thought I might be lying about something to do with my only child status. Finally, she shook her head. "Must be a spirit malfunction. You're an only child. I can see that now."

  "I didn't know spirits can have miscommunications." Alice laughed. "Wow, I have malfunctions all the time. Maybe I'm from another realm after all. That's what Charlie keeps telling me too. And now Barney as well." She'd met Barney at Purdy's and hadn't stopped talking about him since. I guessed old love was the same as young love.

  Why was I grateful she'd confirmed what I already obviously knew? Maybe because I was so happy she wasn't forecasting my death, I'd take any positive sign coming out of this woman's mouth. Not that I'm pathetic, but yeah, I am.

  "Watch out for the avenging spirit," Cleo whispered to me as I walked out the door.

  I stopped and turned to look at her while the others headed toward the car. Part of me wanted to ask what she meant. The other part didn't want to know.

  This whole thing was getting more serious than I'd originally anticipated.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I walked inside Gabe's house and flinched. "What on earth happened to your eye?" The shiner was like a neon sign on his face. To his credit, he didn't even try to disguise it—not that he could have.

  "A little accident involving me and a two-by-four that went sideways. Nothing to worry about." He kissed my forehead.

  "Did you have your grandmother look at it?" I wanted to get him to say more but also knew I had to be clever about it, because unless I missed my guess, his black eye had nothing to do with a two-by-four.

  "I grew up with a doctor and a nurse in my household. I know when it's serious or when it's a plain, run-of-the-mill black eye."

  "You've been having a lot of mishaps lately. That huge bruise on your arm the other day, a splint on one of your fingers. Have you suddenly gotten clumsy on me?" I tried to make light of it, but I sensed a pattern.

  He nodded, brushed the hair back from my face, and looked me in the eye, something he hadn't done throughout the first part of our conversation. "You're right. I need to slow down and be more careful on some of these job sites."

  I knew a dismissal when I heard one and would let the matter drop, at least for a little bit. That way I could pop it into the conversation when he least expected it.

  Tee-hee. You had to know I wouldn't give up that easily.

  "But maybe you got a concussion. Remember that happened to me, and you wanted me to go to the hospital?"

  "And you refused. That part I remember very well," he retorted with a smile.

  "What's good for the goose is good for the gander or something like that, I guess."

  "You've been hanging out with the Qs way too long if that's the analogy you use." He slung an arm across my shoulders and walked me toward the kitchen.

  "It does have its benefits and drawbacks. For example, I swear I'd eat nothing but your grandmother's sweets if you didn't cook for me," I said as I settled into a chair
by the counter in Gabe's kitchen and tried not to think of why the black eye bothered me so. He'd invited me over for barbecued chicken, and that was something I couldn't turn down even on a bad day, especially after my visit with Cleo. I needed some comfort food.

  "Somebody's got to help balance out your sugar intake with protein and vegetables. Might as well be me."

  "Gosh you sound like my 7th grade health teacher, Ms. Wallace. What a pain she was. But once again, I'm going to sabotage your efforts, just like I did Ms. Wallace's. In order to counterbalance the healthy stuff you'd no doubt make, I brought a banana cream pie from this marvelous place in Iowa City."

  "You and the Qs have found some other interesting places I hear."

  "Yeah, that Purdy's adventure was a bit of a red herring on the usual weirdness that normally eclipses our lives."

  "What were you doing there? I've never seen you drink anything stronger than a glass of wine."

  "Understatement. We were following a lead." I put my fingers against his mouth, and he kissed them. "You know I won't let anything happen to the Qs. Besides, I'm pretty sure that besides me and the bartender, the Qs were the youngest people there, so no worries about a fistfight breaking out."

  "How about you?" His eyebrows rose like he didn't believe me. "I heard you had a little incident while you were there."

  "You worry too much." While the sentiment was sweet, a part of me knew he was right. My life had been a little chaotic lately, but I'd never admit that to him. "But nobody poisoned me or slipped something in my drink like everyone thought at first."

  "You did see that allergist Vi recommended, right?"

  "Yes, Mom." I smiled. "He said I showed a reaction to shrimp and cayenne pepper."

  "Good to know." Gabe snuggled closer. "But I do have a question. Why did you dis me when you were in Brownsville yesterday?"

  I closed my eyes and opened them again. Yes, I felt a little guilty about all the snooping I'd been doing, but I hadn't left the confines of Inez since my Iowa City trip. "Brownsville? What are you talking about? I'm not sure I know where that is."

  "I spotted you walking into the casino there when I was in town. I called your name, but you didn't respond." Gabe shook his head as if confused by my response.

  "Jeremy mentioned seeing me on the trail a couple of days ago too. I never thought much about it, but then my dad said the same thing. Then Nate told me Emily thought she saw me at the park, and so did this weird guy who showed up at my storefront the other day." This twin thing was getting weirder by the minute.

  "What guy?" Gabe's gaze narrowed, and he got that worried look on his face.

  I scrunched up my face. "I guess I forgot about that. He's this guy who was looking for a woman and her daughter. He said some BS about her having an inheritance, but both Nate and I knew that was made up. Nate thought he might be a bounty hunter."

  "A bounty hunter in Inez? That makes about as much sense as there are two of you roaming around these parts."

  "I know. Frightening, isn't it? Two times the trouble," I smiled and kissed his cheek. "I guess they say everyone has a twin and mine has decided to surface." Just saying the words out loud made me consider why it all might be happening now.

  Yes, I was suspicious.

  "What do you think is going on?" His lips traveled the length of my neck, making me think he really didn't want me to answer. But now my curiosity was full steam ahead and shifted away from him.

  "I'm trying not to be paranoid, but it feels like somebody's trying to screw with me." I grasped the sides of his face and smiled before planting a kiss on him. "But before we delve into that, are you going to tell me what you were doing in Brownsville? That whole goose and gander thing again."

  "I was looking into some stuff for a friend."

  "Stuff? Like carpentry work?" I teased, knowing at some level that wasn't what this was about at all. When would he tell me what he did when he went away for days at a time? It probably wasn't nearly as mysterious as I made it out to be, but still…why couldn't he just tell me? And what were all these recent accidents about? Was it so embarrassing that he couldn't say? Or was he some kind of covert government official working for the CIA or another organization with initials I didn't know? Yep, it could be that far under the radar. At least in my imagination.

  "I have certain talents that are in demand." It didn't take much to distract me at that point, and he knew just how to do it even with the carrot he'd laid at my feet.

  A little bit later I could barely remember my name, let alone what I was so curious about. Like I said, the guy was a master.

  * * *

  I was on my way to Iowa City for a haircut. While it was a couple hours' drive, the only place in Inez, Betty's Cut and Curl, ensured I'd come out of there a throwback to the seventies, and not in a good way. Their motto was hairspray was a gal's best friend, and they used it liberally, and by that I mean by the can. Most women coming out of there could have withstood hurricane-force winds without a hair on their head moving.

  No lie.

  I rest my case for driving for two hours for a fresh cut. Something to brighten my dismal prospects for figuring out what happened to Jen Crowder. Besides, Gabe and I were going out to dinner at a mystery place he hadn't told me about. Not sure about the secrecy part, but I figured that part of the equation would come about eventually.

  It was a beautiful day, and with the sunshine raining down on me I strolled aimlessly through downtown Iowa City. I wasn't sure where I was headed but at the same time enjoyed the worry-free time. While it wasn't Manhattan, it was the biggest city I'd been to since I'd relocated to Iowa, and it felt good to be once again in civilization, even if I'd adjusted to Inez in most ways. Maybe I should talk with Gabe about visiting Manhattan for a long weekend. Bad memories about New York had soured my outlook for a while, but lately I'd grown a tad nostalgic and wanted to go there on a long weekend. Taking in Hamilton one more time, jogging through Central Park again, and grabbing a vendor hot dog for a quick lunch before dining out at my favorite restaurant with Gabe sounded wonderful. While I loved many parts of Iowa, after a year I needed a New York visit. If nothing else, it would help me appreciate the quiet I'd learned to embrace in Iowa.

  I had a smile on my face when I turned the corner and headed toward my car. But that's also when I spotted Mel. At least I thought it was Mel, talking to somebody who appeared to be an unsavory type, based on the raggedy clothes he was wearing. Which of course made me curious. What was she still doing in Iowa, and did it have something to do with Jen's disappearance? Somehow I had a feeling it might.

  Inquiring minds needed to know this kind of thing, and I was one of those inquiring minds. I slipped inside a shop alcove and spied on Mel, wondering what she might be doing conversing with someone who, let's just say, looked like he could use a quick run through a car wash, one with those giant brushes to get all that dirt and grime off him.

  That didn't fit her normal MO—not that I knew her. But I could make a safe guess based on Gabe's comments and her high maintenance look. She had on her usual business attire, and the contrast between the two of them was jarring. Curiosity got the better of me, and I darted storefront to storefront to get the best view possible without risking a sighting. The last thing I needed to hear was her whining to Gabe about me spying on her. Not that I'd ever heard her do that, but in my head I imagined she probably had and he had the good sense not to mention it to me.

  And no, I wasn't being paranoid, just realistic. I knew her type from my days in Manhattan. Who was I kidding? I once was that type of gal, but not anymore.

  Aren't I feeling self-righteous about now? Yep, sure am and proud of it.

  Wait a minute. She was handing him what looked like money. The little I knew about Mel made me believe she wasn't helping out someone down on their luck. Could it have been some kind of bribe? That would be juicy, but what could she be bribing him about except something to do with Nate? That snake. Why did she have it out against Nate?


  Gabe once mentioned something about Nate bringing her in for questioning regarding a client of hers when he was at the FBI. Maybe I should probe Nate a little more and see if there might be a connection. And what was she doing back in Iowa anyway? Very fishy. She wasn't a practicing attorney in Iowa as far as I knew but had managed to show up at Gabe's out of the blue.

  What was her real agenda? Maybe it had nothing or little to do with Nate and she was throwing me a red herring. I guessed I could take that as a compliment that she thought I was a good investigator.

  Or maybe I was losing it big-time.

  The guy held out the crook of his arm, and she took it willingly. That did not compute. Why would she take the arm of a drug addict or at the very least a homeless person? Not that I wanted to judge, but she didn't seem like the compassionate type, unless my gut radar was way off track. I guessed that could be possible, but it didn't seem likely.

  I trailed behind the pair as stealthily as I could, still keeping up the pretense of window-shopping. My focus remained on the unlikely couple as they turned a corner and walked through to another street.

  I stopped in my tracks, unable to breathe let alone move, as they'd paused in the middle of a less populated block and had ended up too close for comfort. Once I got a grip on my nerves and confirmed they hadn't seen me, I backpedaled to a safer distance.

  I shouldn't have worried too much, as Mel and the homeless guy had started kissing and were more absorbed in that than anything else. Say what? She grabbed the guy and wrapped her arms tight enough so that her entire body was affixed to his. Had there been people around, someone would have surely shouted "Get a room."

  Mel wouldn't be with a guy like that…unless this guy wasn't what he appeared. The possibility tumbled through my mind as the only answer. A disguise? But why? People don't do that for fun or to prove a point—usually. I guessed she could have had some kind of weird fetish causing her to become enamored with guys who looked like bums, but I was betting that wasn't the case. That meant there was another explanation. Somehow I figured Gabe knew the answer to that question. And also had the feeling he wasn't going to tell me even if he did.