by Kaye George
“He probably got fired after that.”
“Well, I’d say he’s a poor guy then. He lost his job. So what about the crutches?”
“Raul said Mateo got a job after that delivering pizza. And he’s the person who delivered the pizza to the guy with crutches in his room. Who was dead.”
Tally had thought Jackson said the dead guy was the person who was on crutches, but maybe she misunderstood.
“What do you think, was the dead guy beaten to death by the same person who beat up the crime watch guy, the friend of your landlady?” Yolanda asked.
“Are you sure that’s what happened? Maybe you confused some of it.”
“Well, I did have some wine. Oh, I have to tell you the news! Vi and Eden are engaged. They’re getting married!”
“Good for them,” Tally said, glad to hear some good news for a change. “When and where? Are they registered?” Nigel had finished his food and had licked his whiskers. Now he sauntered out of the kitchen. Tally retrieved her glass and refilled it with ice cubes and decaf iced tea.
“I don’t know the answers to any of that. Vi says they’re going to enjoy being engaged for a while, then decide everything later.”
“You know, that sounds smart. More people ought to do it that way.” Then Tally sobered, remembering the family situation. “Oh, what do your parents say?”
“Nothing, since they don’t know yet.”
“When is Vi telling them?”
“She isn’t. I can’t decide if I should or not. They’re all basically not speaking to each other.”
“So your sister could conceivably get married and your parents might never even know?”
“You’re right,” Yolanda said, sounding like she’d just made up her mind. “They have to at least know about it. They don’t have to go, or to give them a gift, or even give them their blessing, but they have to know.”
Tally sipped her tea after the call ended, worried about the Bella family, along with everything else. Nigel crouched at her feet, wary of the wetness in her glass and Tally rubbed his side with her toes. That seemed to be satisfactory to both of them.
* * * *
Thet Thura studied the young man sitting beside him in the front seat. Arlen was in the back, his long legs tucked up under his chin, sitting beside the older man. The truck smelled like beer, cigarettes, and something else unpleasant that was probably some local marijuana. It smelled like the weed the people in Dallas smoked. The young man said his name was Ira Mann. Americans had such odd names. Mateo had introduced them after much urging from Thet. Mateo had mentioned that Ira and a few others in the crime watch group were stealing valuable things. Maybe getting to know some local thieves would be a way to find out where the last few missing pieces of jade were. Maybe one of them had even swiped the precious gems. His Uncle Win wouldn’t rest until it was all accounted for.
“We look for a house with the lights out and no cars around,” Ira was telling him, as they sat in Ira’s dirty white pickup truck. Thet thought it was smart of him to drive such a vehicle. It seemed that most people in Texas drove white pickup trucks, so he wouldn’t ever be obvious. “Then we go in the back. A lot of times the back doors are unlocked, even if the front door isn’t.”
They were cruising slowly down the street.
“Ira,” said the other man in the back seat. “We have to hit a different street. We’ve done Schubert too many times.”
“Yeah, you’re right, Kyle,” Ira answered, and made a few turns to get onto another street that looked just like the last one.
“What kinds of things do you find?” Thet asked. “Jewels? Gemstones?”
“Sometimes,” Ira said. “Small electronics are good. You’ll see.”
“There,” Kyle in the back seat said, “that house on the corner. Go around to the next street.”
“We don’t ever park in front of the house,” Ira said, like he was giving instructions. “There aren’t any alleys here, so we have to leave the truck down a few houses.”
Thet did wonder if the two men thought they were training him and Arlen to do this job. They didn’t know Arlen’s name, let alone that he lived in Dallas. Thet just wanted to pick their brains. He and Arlen weren’t going to stick around this town after he found his missing property.
“Okay, come on,” Ira said, climbing out of the truck.
“We can stay here,” Thet said.
The other two men exchanged a look.
“No, you don’t,” Kyle said. “You come with us.”
“I’ll come, but Arlen can be lookout,” Thet said.
That seemed to be okay with them.
Did they think he would steal the truck? Thet got out and walked behind them, back to the house on the corner. He was surprised they didn’t change clothes, or wear dark masks, or somehow disguise themselves. On American television shows, thieves always did that. They also carried weapons, or tools for breaking and entering. The only things these two were carrying were plastic bags they had stuffed into the back pockets of their jeans. Thet assumed those were to carry out their loot.
It was about two o’clock in the morning. Everyone in Fredericksburg except them seemed to be asleep. The only noises were insects in the trees, and a strident, regular, squealing sound. “What is that?” he asked.
Kyle cocked his head. “Oh, them’s just tree frogs. You don’t have those where you’re from?”
“We do have the tree frogs. But their call is different.” Thet tried to mimic their delicate peeping, but they chuckled at him and he quit. How dare they laugh at him.
They opened the wooden gate into the backyard of the house they were targeting. It gave a loud screech and all three men froze, cringing. Nothing happened, so they made their way quietly to the back door.
Thet thought that having three men along was cumbersome and gave them a better chance of getting caught. He decided to stay outside and told them that.
“Sure,” Ira said. “You can be our backyard lookout. If anyone comes, do that frog sound.”
Thet thought that the sound of an Asian frog might not blend in with the night noises here, but didn’t argue. He had no intention of warning them of anything. If someone approached, he would disappear.
When they found that the back door was securely locked, it was a letdown for all of them, even Thet. He was surprised by his disappointment, since he didn’t want to be there in the first place. Now is when lock-picking equipment would have come in handy. Stupid American thieves. How did they ever steal anything?
“Just drop us back at the motel,” he said, not bothering to conceal his disgust.
From now on, he would concentrate on Walter Wright, or maybe Mateo. Either one of them was probably a better way to find out where the missing jade was.
11
Halfway through the day on Friday, as Tally was finishing up a sale for a customer, she cocked her head to listen more closely to the woman Dorella was helping.
The woman’s voice was strident and carried well, filling up the salesroom. “You have to tell me where you got that ring! You have to.” She grabbed Dorella’s hand, inspecting the pinkie ring Ira Mann had given her.
At first Tally thought she was excited because she liked Dorella’s pretty new ring. Dorella drew back an inch or two at the intensity and volume from the woman, who was middle-aged, well-dressed in slacks and a silk blouse, probably on her lunch hour from work.
“It was a gift,” Dorella said, snatching her hand back and curling her fingers protectively.
“Who gave it to you?” the woman demanded, a fierce frown marring her smooth face.
Tally realized it wasn’t excitement in her manner. She was acting belligerent. Tally completed her sale and, as that customer went out the door, came over to Dorella and the woman confronting her. “Is there something I can help you with?” she asked the cus
tomer.
“I want to know where she got that ring.” The woman was almost spitting, becoming more and more hostile.
“Why?” Tally asked. “I don’t think that concerns you.” She caught Dorella’s eye and tipped her head toward the kitchen. Dorella fled through the door.
“Wait!” the woman called, starting to go after her. “That’s my ring!”
Tally stepped in front of her so she couldn’t pursue Dorella. “Please tell me what you’re talking about. I can’t have you acting this way to my employees.”
“Just the one. That one employee. She stole my ring.”
Was this woman crazy? She had to quiet her down and get her out of here. “I’m sure she didn’t. Please leave my store. Right now.”
“You’ll be hearing from me.” The woman stalked out, slamming the front door and jangling the chimes. Tally’s mouth dropped open.
Lily burst through the kitchen door. “What happened? Dorella’s crying and won’t tell me what’s going on.”
Tally wasn’t sure, herself, what was going on. “A customer thinks that Dorella’s ring was stolen from her.”
“Dorella would never steal her ring. Who was she?”
“I have no idea.”
Lily and Dorella were getting along well, now that Lily had apologized for being so rude the first day Dorella wore her ring. And now this happened. That ring was not bringing good things for poor Dorella.
Tally found out who the woman was just before closing. She and Lily and Dorella were in the kitchen, cleaning up the last of the evidence of a spate of afternoon cooking, and Molly was in front, polishing the glass case, emptied for the night, when the office phone rang. Tally ran to get it.
“Tally, I know it’s time for you to close, but I need you to stay there for a few more minutes.” It was Detective Jackson Rogers.
“What’s up?” She would be happy to have dinner with him, but why was he asking her to stay at the shop?
“I’ll tell you when I get there. Is Dorella Diggs there? Make sure she stays, too.”
Tally’s heart sank. She had a feeling the accusatory customer was going to make trouble for them. He wouldn’t tell her more. She would have to wait and see what she could find out.
She hung up and asked Dorella, “Do you know where Ira got your new ring?”
“Was that the woman who is accusing me of stealing it? No one stole her ring. Like there aren’t two identical rings in the world.”
“You need to stick around. Detective Rogers needs to talk to you for a minute. He’s on his way. I’m sure we can clear everything up.”
“Don’t worry,” Lily said. “Ira can probably just show them a receipt or something. That woman is awful. Can we bar her from the store, Tally?”
Tally shook her head. “What would happen if we did that? You saw what she’s like.”
“She’d probably bring in the cops and a reporter.” Dorella laughed as she said it.
However, she was grim by the time Jackson got there. Tally thought she was frightened.
She went to slip the closed sign on the door and jumped when a horn sounded outside. Tally realized she was holding her whole body tight, she was so full of tension. She rolled her neck to loosen it and looked out the front window. A pickup truck with a sign on the door that said Howie’s Garage was at the curb.
Molly whisked by, a huge smile on her face. “Bye, Ms. Holt,” she called over her shoulder. Tally felt the breeze as she tugged the door open and ran out. Molly and Howie. That, at least, was good.
After the detective talked with Dorella, which didn’t seem to get him anywhere, he told Tally he was leaving to talk to Ira Mann. “The woman who wants to file charges was very convincing. She had a break-in recently. She also had a jeweler’s receipt for a ring identical to Dorella’s, and had even taken pictures of it.”
“Do you think Ira could have stolen it?” Tally asked. All of her employees had all left by then and she and Jackson were now chatting in the kitchen over cups of coffee. The lights in the shop were turned out, except the security lights in the front and a dim one she always left on over the sink. The shadows cast on his face in the faint lighting made his rugged face look even stronger than it usually did. His gray eyes glinted, looking almost black. He didn’t answer.
Tally shook her head. “He couldn’t be a thief. They’re trying to catch the thieves. He’s part of the crime watcher group, Jackson. They’re putting on extra patrols, he said, because there have been some residential break-ins. A lot of them. Is that true?”
Jackson rubbed his chin with a gritty sound. This late in the day, his beard was becoming visible on his usually clean-shaven face. “There are some things going on.”
“And you can’t tell me about them, right?” Tally snapped. Why couldn’t he ever tell her anything? “Ira is the son of the new fire chief. You don’t think he’s breaking into houses, do you?”
“As I said, there are things going on. And no, you’re right, I can’t tell you about them. At least not right now.”
He left and Tally assumed he was headed for the Manns’ place to talk to Ira. For the briefest of moments, she wondered if Dorella would have warned Ira, and if she knew he’d stolen the jewelry, or if she had helped steal it. She shook her head. She was not going to think thoughts like that.
Talking of the Crime Fritzers made her wonder how Mrs. Gerg was doing with her houseguest. Every time she thought about it, Walter Wright moving in like that alarmed Tally. She would dash home, feed Nigel, and then check on Mrs. Gerg. Maybe she could subtly ask Walter about the mystery men, the one he called Thet and the other one, the cowboy.
After she took care of darling Nigel, Tally headed out on her mission on foot. As she neared Mrs. Gerg’s house, she looked up as someone crossed to the other side of the street. She couldn’t make out who it was, but the person seemed to have come from Mrs. Gerg’s. It certainly wasn’t Walter. He was still using a crutch and limping. The figure was too tall to be the mysterious dark-skinned man, Thet Thura. His height matched the cowboy, but there was no big ten-gallon hat. As the person passed in front of a house with a gas lamp, she saw long blond hair shining in the light. The gait wasn’t feminine, though. Was it Ira? She would have waved if he had looked up as he passed her on the other side, but he kept his head down. Maybe he was patrolling this block. And alone, just like he was not supposed to be doing. If he was even a member of the crime patrol. He hadn’t been at the meeting in the home of Olive Baum. The man she talked to didn’t even say he was his partner.
Walking up Mrs. Gerg’s front sidewalk, Tally could hear Walter’s raised voice through the door. She couldn’t distinguish his words, but he didn’t sound happy. Once again, she felt the back of her neck prickle. Wanting to interrupt whatever was going on and concerned for Mrs. Gerg, Tally rapped on the door.
“Well, answer it!”
Tally understood his words this time.
Mrs. Gerg opened the door an inch or two, her worried eyes peering out through the crack, her shoulders hunched—fearing who might be there? Tally wondered. When she saw Tally she broke into a huge smile and flung the door open.
“Come in, come in. Come have a seat.”
Walter sat on the couch, scowling, as Tally walked into the living room, full of heavy furniture, most of it adorned with doilies. Before she sat, she asked Mrs. Gerg if she needed anything, remembering that she’d brought groceries over last time she came here when Mrs. Gerg told her she couldn’t leave Walter.
“No, nothing right now.”
“Be sure and tell me if I can run any errands for you,” Tally said. “Are you getting out to shop now? Are you doing better, Mr. Wright?” She perched on a black-and-white plaid upholstered chair.
“Better how?” He almost snarled.
Tally looked at Mrs. Gerg, who kept her eyes on Walter Wright. Tally couldn’t read
her expression. Was she afraid of him?
“How’s everything going here?” she asked.
“Come over here,” Walter said, looking at Mrs. Gerg and softening his voice and demeanor.
She grinned and plopped down next to him.
“That’s my girl.” He put his good arm around her and rubbed her shoulder. “We’re doing just fine,” he said to Tally. “Candy takes such good care of me.”
“Are you getting out to yard sales?” Tally asked Mrs. Gerg. “I saw an ad for a big one starting tomorrow.”
When the older woman shook her head with a sad look, Tally said, “I hope you can soon. I know how much you love that.” She threw a pointed glance at Walter Wright when she said that last part. “How soon can you move back home?” she asked him.
Mrs. Gerg gave him an anxious look. Was her anxiety because she wanted him to leave, or was she afraid of him leaving? It was hard to tell.
The man raised his leg a couple of inches and pointed to the surgical boot on his foot. “I still have a broken arm and leg. I guess you can see that.”
“Yes, that must be very hard.” Tally tried to put syrupy sympathy into her voice. “Have your friends been back?”
“Friends?” Walter scowled again.
“Yes, the men who came to call on you when I was here before. What were their names?”
Mrs. Gerg answered, “Thet was one of them. Isn’t that such an unusual name? He’s from another country. He and the other man brought some business things over just the other day.”
Tally saw Mrs. Gerg flinch. Had Walter pinched her?
Tally spoke to Walter again. “What country is Thet from? How do you know him?”
“He’s here on business. Candy, could you get me some pain pills? Right now?” He turned to Tally. “I need to get some rest.”
She could take a hint. If she stayed and Mrs. Gerg answered any more of her questions, she was afraid he’d keep pinching her. As soon as Candy returned with some pills and a glass of water, Tally fled the strained atmosphere, determined to check in on Mrs. Gerg every day for a while.