“I know.” She smiled a little, but her eyes remained sad. “It’s going to take time, and there are things to talk about.”
“Crime keeps getting in the way.”
“It has a way of doing that.” She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “Go fire up those cold cases. Call me tonight?”
“I’ll do that.” Peter knew better than to say it, but there was no way he was letting her go unprotected until this matter was settled.
“Say hello to Cynth,” Lia said sweetly as Peter and Viola walked out the door. She was quite satisfied when he missed a step on the stoop.
Bailey and Terry arrived together. Bailey brought vegetarian burritos for everyone.
“I figured you wouldn’t be up for cooking,” Bailey said.
“I might die if I don’t get my daily requirement of animal protein,” Terry groused.
“Buck up, carnivore, it’s got cheese,” Bailey said.
“That’s sissy protein.”
“Thank you, Bailey.” Lia unwrapped the burrito, topped it with hot sauce. “There are plenty of squirrels in the back yard, Terry.”
Terry looked out the back window, where two chittering squirrels chased each other around a tree trunk. “Bah. Greasy stuff and not enough meat to be worth the effort of killing it. I brought my laptop. I figured two computers would be better than one.”
“I brought mine,” Bailey said.
“How should we proceed,” Lia asked over a mouthful of black beans, avocado and brown rice.
“I think we need a calendar program, like the online Zoho calendar.” Terry suggested. “That way, we can color code events according to who was involved. Meanwhile, I can set up a Google doc that we can all work on, where we can list our suspects and what we know about them.
“How far back should we go?” Lia asked.
“How about when you started your job at Scholastic?” Bailey asked. “Everything started happening after that.”
“When did Foil Man make his first appearance?” Terry asked.
Lia thought back. “It was before I started working at Scholastic.”
“What about when Desiree started working at Scholastic? Was it before then?” Bailey asked.
Lia frowned. “She worked a small project a few weeks before I started. When I met her, she’d only received two of the dolls, so maybe not. But if Eric is Foil Man, then Foil Man had nothing to do with my kidnapping. There was no time for him to beat me home from Scholastic.”
“We only think he’s Foil Man. He said there was a misunderstanding, didn’t he? Maybe there was a mistake. Did he ever act like he lusted after Desiree?” Bailey asked.
“Well, no. . . .”
“Then we leave Foil Man in the equation,” Terry said.
It took them an hour to hammer out the calendar of events.
“One thing is clear,” Terry said.
“What’s that?” Lia asked.
“Nothing of a criminous nature happened to you until Desiree died. While we can’t assume anything, it looks like whatever went on with Desiree transferred to you at that time.”
“Now, why would that be?” Lia asked.
“You were a known associate, one of very few females she spent time with.”
“We stopped hanging out three weeks before then.”
“But there is that YouTube video. Perhaps I should examine it tonight for clues,” Terry said, twisting his mustache and wiggling his eyebrows.
Lia punched him on the arm.
Bailey said, “Perhaps we need to treat Foil Man as different from Desiree’s killer. What do you think?”
“Maybe so. And list all the men who knew us both.”
“There is a small chance you don’t know the men who kidnapped you,” Terry said, “if it turns out this is all about Desiree.”
“Maybe list three perps. Foil Man, Desiree’s killer and my abductors. We can merge them later if it makes sense. We honestly don’t know that the person who killed Desiree abducted me.”
“Who do we start with?” Bailey asked, pulling out her phone and opening an app for taking notes.
“We need a list of all the men who were around Desiree,” Lia said.
“Three hundred scorers at Scholastic, about half male . . . ,” Terry mused.
“Get serious,” Lia said. “Alphonso and Dave knew her best.”
Bailey tapped their names into the app. “Who else?”
“Ted talked to her a lot at work,” Lia said. “I was always catching Avery staring at her—that’s our room supervisor.”
“Oh, so he’d have access to her personnel file,” Bailey said. “He’d know where she lived.”
“Eric could have gotten the same information from the forms she handed in.”
“Alphonso, Dave, Ted, Avery, Eric,” Bailey read off. “Anyone else?”
“There were two painters at the house next door, they seemed to know a lot about her,” Lia said. “Though they claimed they were drinking margaritas when she was shot.”
“They offered you an alibi?” Terry asked. “Sounds suspicious.”
Lia rolled her eyes. “No, they just mentioned it. Though we don’t know when Desiree was shot, so that could be bogus.”
“What about other men she knew from the bar?” Bailey asked.
“Who says it has to be a man? Maybe we’re looking for a spurned woman.”
“We don’t know of any spurned women, so we can table that idea,” Lia said. “And Heckle and Jeckle checked out all her known boyfriends. For now, let’s assume they were clean.”
“Wouldn’t Dave have been at the bar when she was shot?” Bailey asked.
“He was a block away,” Terry said. “He could have slipped out.”
“Where did the extra guy come in?” Bailey asked.
“Dave would be able to scare up any number of young guys to help him,” Lia said.
“How about Avery and Eric? Those depths are untapped.” Terry said.
“Ugh,” Lia said, “Let’s leave them that way. Bailey, you’ve been writing all this down, what do you think?”
“The painters are the obvious choice if you’re looking for two healthy younger guys, but I’m really curious about Ted. What do you know about him?”
“Not much. He’s married,” Lia said.
“Correction,” Terry said. “He told us he was married. Not the same.”
Bailey checked her notes. “Dave and the painters had the most opportunity. It should be easy enough to find out if they were seen when Desiree was killed or you were kidnapped. I wonder if the painters do their drinking at The Comet?”
“Why would Dave kill Desiree? He was in love with her,” Lia said.
“Maybe we’re looking at this all wrong,” Terry said. “We’re assuming the thugs dumped you because they’d been discovered, before they were able to achieve their purpose.”
“And?” Lia asked.
“What if they dumped you because they didn’t need you anymore.” He stabbed his index finger in the air. “What if the fact of the abduction was the point?”
“What would that accomplish?” Lia asked.
Terry stroked his chin. “I don’t know . . . I must ponder this. Perhaps a threat to assure her compliance at a later date?”
“To what purpose?” Bailey asked. “Lia, what all did they accomplish during your abduction?”
“Besides terrorizing me? They kept me from getting home on time, but Peter was already there.”
“They lured Peter away from the house,” Bailey pointed out. “Was anything disturbed when you came back?”
Lia shook her head. “Not that I could tell.”
“And they didn’t get your wallet or your phone.” Bailey said.
“All they got was Desiree’s necklace. He was going to take my wallet and cell phone, but Brainard interrupted them, so they took off and dumped me.”
“The amethyst? What would they want with that?” Terry asked. “It was pretty and all, but hardly wo
rth the risk.”
“I don’t know,” Bailey said, “but let’s think this through.”
“But the driver said he would shoot my shoulder, that I wouldn’t need it for what they wanted me for. It sounded like they were going to rape me.”
“That would be an excellent way to encourage your compliance, wouldn’t it?” Terry said. “Or maybe that was just going to be a bonus. They targeted you. If they just wanted to rape someone, there are easier ways to do it than with a cop boyfriend in pursuit.”
“Let’s get back to the amethyst,” Bailey said. “It’s the only thing we know for sure that was accomplished out of everything that’s happened. Nothing was taken—that you know of—when you had the break-in, and both break-ins at Desiree’s and the one here showed they were looking for something small.”
“How do you know it was small?” Lia asked.
“I saw the mess. They got into everything. You don’t look for a Volkswagen in a breadbox.
“Now, you found the necklace back in Julia’s hoard under the bush. What do you want to bet Julia stole it before that goon broke in and shot her. Therefore, he would not have found it when he broke in, and Desiree would not have been able to tell him where it was if she wanted to,” Bailey said.
“So he’s trying to scare the location of the necklace out of her and shoots her by mistake?” Lia asks.
“Or he’s insanely angry about it being lost, and she can identify him,” Terry said.
“We need to find out more about the necklace.”
“Do you think the landlady would know anything?” Bailey asked.
“Doubtful. She strike you as the type to let us haul off all Desiree’s stuff if she knew there was something valuable there?”
“Dave knew Desiree better than anyone. He might know where she got it. Who’s up for a trip to The Comet?” Lia asked.
“How do we know Dave isn’t our perp?” Terry asked. “You could be walking into the lion’s den.”
“He told me to keep the necklace. Why would he do that if he wanted it?”
“Better you have it than be outbid at auction,” Terry said.
“I don’t know . . . but that’s one reason to go into the bar, to see how he reacts when I ask him about it.”
Dave set three ginger-ales on the bar before they could order.
“On the house.”
“What did we do to rate special treatment?” Bailey asked.
“We raised over a thousand dollars for Three Sisters.”
Lia winced. “But we got your bar shot up.”
Dave shrugged. “It was my idea to hold the service.” He glanced around to assure no one was listening. “The publicity I’m getting from the stand-off is worth ten times the cost of repairs. I’m leaving the bullet holes. People are driving in from all over the Tri-state to see them.”
“I’m glad you see a bright side to it. Now I don’t have to feel awful about it anymore. Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure, shoot.”
Lia absently touched the spot on her chest where the amethyst had lain, forgetting for a moment that it was no longer there.
“The necklace, the one you told me to keep? Do you know where it came from?”
Dave rubbed his chin while considering Lia’s question. “Desiree never wore it in here and she never mentioned it. The first time I saw it was on you. Why do you want to know?”
“Just curious. I wanted to know more about it, give it a story, ” Lia said.
The trio conferred over their ginger-ales as Dave went about his business.
“Alfonso said he’d never seen the necklace before,” Bailey said.
“But he said it was worthless,” Lia reminded her.
“He still might know where it came from,” Bailey said.
“He tried to buy it. Maybe he said it wasn’t worth anything so I’d think fifty dollars was a good deal,” Lia said.
“Could Alfonso Vasari be our man?” Terry asked.
“If he is, he has help. The guys who attacked me were younger.”
“How do you know they were younger?” Bailey asked.
“The way they talked, like a couple of young idiots.”
“Were they familiar to you at all?” Bailey asked.
“Geezelpete! How was I supposed to tell with a pillowcase on my head?”
Terry looked at his watch. “It’s five-thirty now. I imagine Vasari closes at six. I don’t know if we’d make it.”
“We need to think about this. The sensible thing to do is tell Peter our theory and let him pass it on to Brent. They’re the professionals,” Lia said.
“Peter and Brent have guns, too,” Bailey said.
“Bah,” Terry said. “Faint heart never won lady fair.”
Bailey looked at Lia. “You want to win lady fair? She’s not exactly my type.”
Lia rolled her eyes.
“Of course,” Bailey said, “we could snoop around the back of the store after everyone’s gone.”
“What good would that do?” Terry asked.
“Aren’t the cops always going through garbage?”
“What would we be looking for?” Terry asked.
“I don’t know . . . Lia, didn’t you throw out that towel you used to wash up after you maced everyone last night?”
“Well, duh. It reeked.” Lia wrinkled her nose at the memory.
“Maybe your attacker did, too. When is garbage collection in Clifton?” Bailey asked.
“That would be Thursday. But even if it was Alfonso, he wouldn’t have washed up at the shop, would he?” Terry said.
“You think he wants to go home to his wife smelling like pepper spray?” Bailey said.
“Good point. But I still think it makes more sense that he would wash up at home. So, are we going to skulk around sniffing trash?” Terry said.
“Well?” Bailey asked. “Are we? Or are we going to hand this brilliant idea over to Peter and Brent?”
“Depends. We’ve got to figure out where Alfonso lives, and when his garbage goes out,” Terry said.
Bailey looked up, noted that Dave was at the other end of the bar, then whispered. “We should check Dave’s garbage, too.”
“Why would we do that? He said he never saw the necklace on Desiree,” Terry said.
“What else would he say if he was behind it? And why would Alfonso admit to knowing about it if he wanted to get it from Lia?” Bailey said.
“Excellent question,” Terry said. “Perhaps our friend behind the bar was not so smitten with the lovely Desiree as he claimed. Perhaps he set up the memorial service to give him a chance to take the necklace.”
“He did offer to help you search through her papers,” Bailey said to Lia.
“True.” Because he needed to plant the designated agent form.
“Cheezit! Here he comes!” Bailey whispered.
“How are you folks doing down here?” Dave asked, eyeing their empty glasses. “Can I interest you in some nachos?”
“We were just leaving,” Lia said. “But thank you.”
“Sorry I couldn’t be more help,” Dave said.
Lia waited until everyone was in Terry’s truck. “Are you both nuts?” she exploded. “Crazy people are waving guns around and you want to go digging through their garbage?”
“While taking appropriate precautions, of course,” Terry said, affronted.
“Right. More guns,” Lia snarked. “I’ve been shot. Have either of you ever been shot? No? Well, it doesn’t feel very good. I’m going to share what we think with Peter and Brent and let them take care of it. You two can do what you want, but leave me out of it.”
“Well, er . . ,” Terry mumbled.
“How about this?” Bailey offered. “Terry and I will put on our rattiest clothes and take my truck. We’ll pretend we’re trash-pickers. Dave might recognize us if we’re not careful, but Terry’s never met Vasari, and he only saw me one time. He won’t recognize me if I tuck my hair up.”
“And what
are you going to do if you find anything?” Lia asked. “Once you take it, how will you prove where it came from? DNA’s not as easy to get as everyone thinks.”
“What if we just sniff the bags, and if we think we have something, we back off and call Peter. Would that work?”
“Your necklace? You think they were after your necklace?” Peter asked.
He and Brent were sitting in Lia’s living room. Peter was off duty and wasn’t even supposed to be in on this conversation. He had a beer. Brent eyed it enviously. Lia said she wouldn’t tell, but Brent refused to drink on duty. Brent shrugged and took another bite of the vegetable and brown rice casserole Alma sent over so Lia wouldn’t have to think about cooking. Viola sat alert at Brent’s feet, waiting for something to fall off his fork. Brent cringed, knowing that Viola’s hair was, at that very moment, gluing itself to his slacks.
“It’s the only thing that makes any sense.” She showed them the calendar and took them through the sequence of events.
“But why?” Peter asked. “Amethyst was a big deal a hundred years ago, but now it’s common, and even antique pieces aren’t worth much.” When Lia and Brent looked at him, he shrugged. “I’m getting an education from these old robberies. Want to know what a Pre-Revolution spittoon goes for?”
“What does the necklace look like?” Brent asked.
“I never saw it,” Peter said. “She always wears stuff like that under her shirt, except on special occasions.” He looked pointedly at Lia.
Lia bit her lip, thinking. “It was an oval . . . about two inches long, set in a whitish gold prong setting . . . not white and not yellow. Pale blonde. The stone was faceted, but the cut was unusual. It was flat on the bottom, like a cabochon. The face of the stone wasn’t flat. It rose to a shallow peak, and had facets. It was sort of the the reverse of the usual cut, except the point on the face of the stone is barely noticeable.”
Lia was on her second portion of Alma’s casserole by the time Peter found a website with diagrams of lesser known gem cuts on his laptop.
“That one,” Lia said, pointing. “The rose cut.” She leaned in close to Peter to read the page, ignoring the frisson this gave her.
“It says it was first used in the Middle Ages, and it’s only used now to repair antique jewelry. That means my necklace could be a thousand years old, from the crusades. Wouldn’t that be amazing? That would make it valuable, wouldn’t it?”
Sneak Thief (A Dog Park Mystery) Page 21