He had the door open for me before I made it to the front porch, and I hoped my hunch would pay off.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Mooney,” I said with my company smile in place—the smile that dripped sincerity and showed a lot of teeth. It was a southern technique perfected at birth.
Victor Mooney was in his late sixties and resembled a freshly scrubbed pot-bellied pig. His skin was pale and pink and his round belly sat on two stubby legs. He always wore red suspenders and carried peppermints in his pockets.
“Addison, what brings you here on this beautiful day? A girl your age should be out leading some man about by the nose, not visiting with dirty old men.”
His cheeks pinkened and I wanted to pat the top of his bristly white head. His blue eyes twinkled as he bent down to kiss my hand. He led me into his living room by the elbow and sat me in an uncomfortable Queen Anne chair that was made for midgets.
“I’m actually doing a favor for a friend of mine,” I said, deciding to be completely honest. “Do you remember Kate?”
“Of course I do. You girls sure did get into a mess of trouble when you were younger,” he said, chuckling. “She’s got that detective agency up near Savannah, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“And you’re working a case and want my help.” Mr. Mooney’s face was brimming with excitement and it was hard not to get caught up in his enthusiasm.
“Yes, but whatever we discuss needs to stay between you and me.” I knew I was breaking all kinds of clauses in the contract Kate had me sign, but surely she’d understand as long as the end result came out okay.
“Oh, yes, yes, of course. I’m considered somewhat of a confidant in Whiskey Bayou. I know all kinds of things about people that I’ve never told a soul. Did you know that Harley Baines uses Viagra?”
“No,” I said, trying to get the portly city councilman out of my head.
“And Maggie Murchison can’t get pregnant because her husband had a vasectomy three years ago,” he went on.
“Oh, poor woman.” There was no way I was keeping that bit of information from my mother. Roger Murchison deserved to be lynched for that act of treachery.
“What about John Hyatt?” I asked.
“Ahh, yes. I should have known he was your target. I hear he’s decided to let Veronica Wade buy that house he promised you.” Victor clucked his tongue in disappointment. “I have a good mind to go down to the bank and withdraw all my money. I’d rather keep it in a shoebox under the bed than deal with a dishonest banker.”
“Does Mr. Hyatt have people in and out of his house frequently?” I asked.
“Oh, yes. It’s like a circus over there all the time. There are always cars in and out.”
“How can you see the cars in the driveway if the garage is on the other side of the house?”
“I can see almost the whole street from my third floor balcony,” he said sheepishly. “The white van belongs to Maria Vasquez. She cleans his house and does the laundry three days a week. And on Mondays the lawn service comes out and tends to the mowing and weeding. And on Friday mornings a man comes to clean the pool. It’s all very scheduled, like clockwork.”
“What about Monday and Thursday nights?” I asked, thinking of Fanny’s statement that those were the only two nights she was allowed to stay over.
“Oh, he goes to pick up his fiancé around six-thirty. Sometimes they go out to dinner, but they’re usually back by eight or so. Those are the only nights she sleeps over. He takes her back home around seven-thirty the next morning.”
“Do you ever see any other women at the house?”
He stopped and looked at me, and for the first time I wondered if he was going to lie to me and cover for John Hyatt. He finally sighed and shook his head. “I don’t understand why a man who has a beautiful woman at his side would go out looking for something else,” he said with disapproval. “There is another woman, and it seems like she practically lives there. I don’t know her name, but she’s got long blonde hair and a large chest. She parks a white Lexus in the garage and sneaks in and out at all hours. I wish I could give you a better description, but the only time I ever see her is if I catch a glimpse through one of the upstairs windows.”
“That’s all right, Mr. Mooney. You’ve helped me a lot,” I said as I stood to go. “Maybe you could keep watching for me and keep a log of the times you see this woman. If you know what you’re looking for maybe you can get a better description.”
I handed Mr. Mooney a card with my number on it and said goodbye. I knew two facts: Veronica Wade had somehow convinced John Hyatt to give her my house, and Veronica had long blonde hair and a large chest. It was too soon to believe in coincidences, but the evidence so far was pretty damning.
I sped into Savannah casting nervous glances at my clock. It was three minutes till five as I parked my Z at the corner of Jefferson and West Gaston and waited for Barry Crumb to leave his office for the day. I sighted through the lens of the Nikon Megapixel Digital Camera Kate had left in my mailbox at school, just to make sure I had a clear shot of the door.
In all honesty, I had no idea how to work the camera. It had way too many buttons and moving parts for me to feel comfortable using it, but Kate had assured me all I needed to do was point and shoot.
I opened Barry’s file and looked at the 5x7 shot of him paper-clipped to the inside and shuddered. I tried hard not to dry heave at his photograph, but it took more will power than I possessed. Why anyone would want to sleep with Barry Crumb was a mystery to me.
Dr. Crumb was an OB/GYN with an office in the heart of Savannah, so he did a brisk business. He wasn’t having financial troubles, just the opposite. Business was booming for Dr. Crumb. But his wife of thirteen years had a suspicion that Dr. Crumb was spreading his love around, and apparently it was my job to find out one way or another.
I checked my watch one more time. 5:15. His car was still in the lot, so he hadn’t slipped past my attention while I was getting settled in with all the necessary comforts. The thought did cross my mind that I might need a new car for my new career, but James Bond seemed to get by okay with a flashy sports car so I could too.
The sight of my target brought me out of my daydream.
“Bingo.”
I sighted Dr. Crumb with the Nikon and took a couple of quick photos to make sure the thing worked. He got into his new Lexus convertible and checked his appearance in the rearview mirror.
I put the Z in drive and kept about a block behind him, making sure to keep a couple of cars between us. I followed him down Montgomery and flipped on my blinker as he turned right on West Bay. My adrenaline pumped and my heart pounded as I swerved around some pedestrians, never taking my eyes off of Dr. Crumb.
I called Kate on my cell phone as I followed his Lexus into the Hyatt Regency parking lot.
“Have you seen this guy?” I said by way of greeting. “That’s not even a face a mother would love. How is this guy bagging chicks?”
“It takes all kinds,” Kate said. “Plus, his wife told me he has other attributes that can’t be seen on first impression, if you get my drift.”
“Huh,” I said and disconnected.
I took a couple more shots of Dr. Crumb entering the hotel and sat back into my waiting position. I’d found that sitting still by myself was much harder than sitting still with Kate in the car, so in about half an hour’s time I’d eaten all my trail mix, finished two Sudoku puzzles and graded thirty quizzes.
The summer sun was still high, and I started to wonder how Dr. Crumb could have sex in the daylight. Greg and I had never done it in the daylight. If we were going to do it at all, it had to be right before The Tonight Show came on. Greg had it down to a science. He’d finish at exactly 10:29, roll over and flip on the T.V. Though, quite frankly, even though the sex was terrible, there were times I missed having a man sleep over. Greg never complained about having to get up in the middle of the night and plug a hole in the roof when he slept over.
“Okay, don’t go there.” I was through thinking about Greg.
I slid out of the Z to stretch my legs and cure my boredom. I jogged in place, did some stretches and looked at my watch again. 6:42. So apparently Dr. Crumb had some staying power.
I was on my third set of leg stretches when I saw Dr. Crumb come out of the hotel. And he wasn’t alone.
“Holy shit.”
I jerked my car door open to get the camera and somehow my head and the door made contact.
“Ouch, shit, why me?” I rubbed the spot furiously and grabbed the camera with my other hand. I hunkered behind my car and wiped my still watering eyes before looking through the lens. I’d hit my head in the same damn spot I had yesterday.
“Gotcha.”
I snapped a couple of photos and was especially proud of the one I got of him in a torrid embrace. Mrs. Crumb was going to be extremely surprised. Dr. Crumb didn’t have a girlfriend. Dr. Crumb had a boyfriend.
I guess I could see the appeal of looking at something a little different when all you did was inspect vaginas all day.
I was a little torn about catching Dr. Crumb in the act. I held the potential to ruin thirteen years of marriage by showing his wife a few photos. On the other hand, he was cheating and I really needed the extra paycheck. Technically, I wouldn’t be ruining his marriage because Kate would be showing the photos to Mrs. Crumb.
Guilt absolved.
This revelation deserved a trip to Dairy Queen. It was just after seven and I hadn’t eaten dinner. I parked the Z and went inside, hoping they’d give me a bag of ice for my throbbing forehead if I ordered enough food.
“Geez, lady. What did you do to your head?”
So much for hoping no one would notice.
“I had a little accident. I’ll take an Oreo Blizzard and a bag of ice, please.”
I collected the ice cream and headed back to my car with the ice pressed to my forehead.
“Ahhh—”
I pressed the electronic remote and screamed as a hand squeezed my shoulder.
“What the hell are you screaming for?”
Oh, I so did not need this right now. I tried to make a quick deal with God, swearing I wouldn’t miss church for the rest of the year if he’d just make this man go away.
“Hello—Addison?” He snapped his fingers in front of my face a couple of times. “What are you doing?”
“I was praying that God would make you go away.”
Nick laughed and the sound turned my insides to jelly. It was deeply masculine and shivered all the way down my spine. It had to be because I had a head injury. There was no other excuse.
“And what do you mean, why am I screaming? You don’t just walk up to a woman in a parking lot and grab her. I thought I was being mugged.”
“I called your name, but you were so busy making orgasmic noises with your ice cream that you didn’t hear me.”
Heat washed over my face. He was right. I had been making orgasmic noises. I loved ice cream. A lot.
“I’m going home. My head hurts and I can’t think fast enough to spar with you tonight. What are you doing here anyway?”
“I was getting gas across the street, and it was hard to miss the flaming red blur and squealing tires as you sped into the parking lot. It must have been an ice cream emergency.”
I must have hit my head harder than I’d thought because the next thing I knew everything went dark, and when I woke up I was in a place I’d never been before, and it smelled fabulous.
“You smell so good,” I said, taking a big whiff of Nick’s neck. I think I might have accidentally licked him, but I couldn’t be too sure.
“Well, I do try to shower everyday,” he said, leaning my head back so he could look me in the eyes. “That’s a pretty nasty bump you have there. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
His face was close enough that his breath feathered my lips, and I sighed as I felt the familiar stomach clutch of attraction. You’d think my body and my brain would be in agreement over the fact that Nick was all wrong for me, but my body insisted on being stubborn.
“I hit it on my steering wheel yesterday when I ran you off the road.”
“That would explain why you looked so crazy in Kate’s office. Maybe you jarred something loose.”
“And then tonight I ran into my car door when I was trying to get to the camera to take some pictures. I think I hit it harder than I thought.”
I looked around, realizing I was sprawled on the ground of a Dairy Queen parking lot. A small crowd had gathered to stare at me, while others walked by like they saw women littering parking lots every day. Nick’s arms felt better holding me close than I wanted to admit, so I was reluctant to tell him I was okay to stand up when a sudden thought came to me. I jumped up and groaned as the ache in my head intensified. “Where’s my ice cream? Is it okay?”
Nick looked at me a little incredulously, but obviously saw the determination in my face and looked around for my ice cream.
“Sorry, kiddo. The ice cream is toast. If I would have known how much you wanted it I would have let you fall to the ground and grabbed it instead.”
“Well, shit.”
“Looks like. Sorry.”
“Why are you being so nice to me? I thought you were the tough guy without a heart.”
“Don’t let my concern fool you. I saw Kate’s camera on the seat and knew she’d be pissed if it was stolen while you were lying on the ground unconscious.”
“Gee, thanks.” I stood up shakily and got into the driver’s seat, wondering how many times I could embarrass myself in front of the same man. The answer wasn’t comforting.
“I’m going to follow you home. You still look a little shaky.”
I normally would have told him thanks, but no thanks, but I was still feeling a little unsteady.
“I’d appreciate that.”
We made it to my apartment with no major mishaps, and I decided to park close to the stairs and take my chances with falling brick crushing my car. I wanted nothing more than to crawl up the stairs and fall into bed.
I was surprised when the car door opened and Nick was there to help me gather my things and push me up to my apartment.
“You’re ruining your tough guy image.”
“I just like to make sure there are no dead bodies on my watch.”
“You’re such a giver.”
I unlocked the front door and Nick shoved it open for me so I could stumble inside. I fell face first onto the couch and decided everything would be okay once the room stopped spinning. I heard Nick rummaging around in the kitchen and rolled over so I could see what he was doing. The light hurt my eyes, so I lay there with them closed and hoped he would leave soon.
A bag of ice mysteriously appeared on my forehead.
“Ahh—thank you.”
“I don’t know why I have this insane urge to take care of you,” Nick said. “It seems like you’re used to having these things happen to you.”
“Yep. Someday I’ll tell you about my sophomore year of college. This is nothing compared to that.”
“Are you holding up okay?” Nick asked.
I stayed silent because I wasn’t sure exactly what traumatic event he was talking about. There had already been so many.
“About finding your principal dead in a parking lot,” he clarified.
“As well as can be expected. The funeral’s tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I’ll be there with a few other undercover officers.” He squeezed the back of my neck between his thumb and forefinger and I felt like purring. I was a little tense for some reason.
“Have you found out anything about Mr. Butler’s murder?”
“We looked at the video tape from the parking lot, but the location of the stabbing was just out of range of the camera. We’re in the process of identifying everyone we see on the tapes from inside the club as well as the license plate numbers from the parking lot.”
“Stabbing?” For some
reason not knowing how Mr. Butler had died made it seem less real. I hiccupped into a couch pillow and squenched my eyes closed. “What the hell was he doing in that place?” I asked, not expecting an answer. “What the hell was I doing there? If he hadn’t seen me on stage he never would have left so soon.”
“This isn’t your fault, Addison. You were both just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It happens to everyone.”
Surely he didn’t expect me to believe that things like that happen to everyone. I was a freak of nature, probably cursed at birth by Rumpelstiltskin or some other crazy shit. If Nick Dempsey had any indication of self-preservation, he would run like hell in the opposite direction and never speak to me again.
“Is there anything you need me to get you before I leave?”
“There’s some aspirin in the kitchen cabinet above the coffee pot, and there’s a half pint of hazelnut ice cream in the freezer.”
“It seems to me you have an obsession with ice cream. Maybe you need to get a man to help control these urges.”
“I had a man. He left me for the home economics teacher. I’ll pass, thanks.”
I heard him rummaging through the freezer and sat up a little. Nick wasn’t such a bad guy.
“Looks like Dr. Crumb is guilty,” he said, pausing by the table with all my stakeout paraphernalia on it. “Nice photos.”
“Thanks. I’m sure it’ll give Mrs. Crumb a surprise, but it’s better to know for sure than to always wonder.”
I took the aspirin and knocked it back with a spoonful of hazelnut ice cream.
“Sounds like you know from experience.”
“Nah. I was pretty much blindsided.”
“Then he obviously wasn’t the right man for you. I think I’d notice if someone that mattered seemed like they were drifting. Why’d you want to marry a guy like that, anyway?
I kept my eyes closed and decided I had a better chance of getting him out of my apartment if I just answered the question. “It’s not like he started out as lying, cheating scum,” I said. “He was charming and smart, and I was almost thirty.”
Whiskey Rebellion (Romantic Mystery/Comedy) Book 1 (Addison Holmes Mysteries) Page 6