A Geek Girl's Guide to Justice (The Geek Girl Mysteries)

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A Geek Girl's Guide to Justice (The Geek Girl Mysteries) Page 18

by Julie Anne Lindsey


  “Nope.”

  I smiled. “Nope?”

  “This case is a nightmare.”

  I dragged the corner of my wonton through a puddle of duck sauce. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not doing great either.”

  He laughed. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I see your dead-end former associate and raise you a squirrel-watching scientist with secret footage of the lake at the time of Dante’s death.”

  Jake stopped chewing. His eyebrows stretched into his hairline. “What?”

  “His name’s Mr. Peters, and he’s dodging me, but I’m going after him tomorrow. I’ve already set time aside in my schedule to show up on his doorstep.”

  “I’m going to need to come with you for that.” He wiped his mouth and looked expectant. “Anything else?”

  “Did you know Dante was an avid and vocal supporter of a state senator?”

  “I did not.”

  I poked a hunk of orange chicken with my plastic fork. “Senator Vince Adams. There’s a ton of online material about Dante’s financial support of Adams’s campaign. I think you should talk to him.”

  “So do I.”

  “He had a lot to lose if news of Dante’s involvement with money laundering or his ties to Terrance Horton got out. Adams could lose the next election. His life would be put under a microscope. His reputation would be ruined.”

  Jake filled his mouth with pepper steak and chewed slowly.

  “It seems reasonable to assume he’d take measures to protect himself.”

  He struggled to swallow the food in his mouth. “You think Adams hired a hit man? Do me a favor and keep that to yourself. Those are the kinds of things we don’t say out loud unless we’ve got rock-solid evidence to back them up. Accuse him wrongly and your life will be ruined.”

  I went to the refrigerator for bottles of water. I set two on the island. “That’s why you should talk to him.”

  Jake cracked open a bottle and sucked greedily until his red face returned to a more normal hue. “I’ll contact his people and schedule a time to talk with Adams.”

  I made a hopeful face. “Or.”

  “No.”

  I dropped my fork. “You haven’t heard what I’m going to say.”

  “I know what you’re going to say. It’s something cockamamy and likely to get you arrested.”

  “By who?” I scoffed.

  He chomped a hunk of steak on his fork hard enough to break the tines.

  We ate in silence for several minutes while he settled down.

  I tried again when he stopped eating. “Fifi’s dad invited us to a fundraiser tomorrow night. Would you like to go?”

  The frown returned. “What are you up to? Start with why Fifi’s dad would invite me anywhere?”

  I lifted a finger. “Technically, he invited her and she declined, but I’m sure if I ask, she can still go and bring three guests.”

  “Me, you and Nate.”

  “Yes. She said the fundraiser is really some kind of cover for a guy who wants to be the mayor, and he’s trying to figure out who’s going to support him.”

  Jake nodded. “You think Adams might be there.”

  “I know he will. I called his office from work today, pretending to be a reporter attending the event tomorrow night. His admin told me to save my questions for the fundraiser.”

  He dropped his empty plate in the trash. “Anything else?”

  I pursed my lips. “She might have asked me not to call back.”

  The makings of a smile played across Jake’s mouth, never finding purchase. “I meant, do you have any other information you need to share?”

  “You didn’t answer me about the fundraiser.”

  He unearthed his phone from a pair of very fortunate jeans and tapped the screen to life. “I’ll go. You have to promise not to talk to Adams. You can listen and observe, but no direct interaction.”

  “Can I ask the other partygoers about him?”

  “No.”

  “Can I ask them about Dante?”

  “No.”

  I pushed my plate away. “What am I supposed to do if I can’t talk to anyone?”

  “Enjoy the party. The evening. Time with friends. Time with me.”

  I ignored the twinkle in his eye and blew a quiet raspberry. I dialed Fifi to see if she’d reconsider going to the fundraiser and add Jake and me to the list.

  “Flight of the Bumblebee” burst through my phone speaker and I winced. It was the ringtone I’d assigned to Bree long ago. An accurate depiction, I’d thought.

  “Take it,” Jake said. “If you don’t, she’ll probably come over here.”

  Good point. “Hello?”

  “You answered.” She sounded stunned and took a minute to recover. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I edged away from Jake for privacy. “Don’t seem so shocked that I answered. You’re the one who called.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And you want...?” I prompted.

  “Oh. I want to know if you think hiring a band for the shower is too much. Is it too showy? Will the guests think I’m being a princess?”

  “Depends on the band.”

  “Do you think Maroon 5 is available?”

  I laughed. “Yes, I think they only do weddings.”

  “Maybe Adam will make an exception. A woman only gets two baby showers in a lifetime.”

  “Sure.”

  “See if he’ll play something upbeat but family friendly. I want to keep it a G-rated affair.”

  Jake was watching me from the kitchen island while he scrolled and tapped his phone screen.

  I headed for my laptop and searched for local bands. “Got it. Anything else?”

  “Yes. Thank you for this. I know you’re busy, and I can sometimes be a little demanding. If I get on your nerves, imagine how annoying it is to be me. Anyway, I don’t say it enough, but I really appreciate all the hard work you’re doing to make this special for me.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “One more thing. Can you get a swing band as backup? You know, just in case Adam runs into traffic.”

  “Already on it.” I disconnected and refreshed my email.

  My phone buzzed with a text from Fifi. “Yes! Fifi says we’re in. Nate’s going, too.”

  Jake drained the bottle of water and tossed it into my recycle bin. “Guess I’d better pick up a nice suit tomorrow.”

  “I’m sure you own a nice suit.”

  “Aside from my birthday one? No. I’ve got a bunch of cheap blazers and dress stuff for work, but that’s it.”

  I couldn’t stop the cheesy smile spreading on my face at the idea of Jake in his birthday suit. “Need any help looking for a suit?” Or finding that one?

  He rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “I’m shopping at Dan’s closet and borrow-mart. Your money’s no good there.”

  “Maybe I should shop in Bree’s closet. Give one of her gowns a night to remember.”

  Jake caught me in one arm and kissed my head. “I’d love to help with that.”

  I tilted my face for a look in his strong blue eyes. “I’ll allow it.”

  He kissed my lips gently, chastely, before releasing me with a broad smile.

  I leaned against the counter for support and swept my tongue across my bottom lip on instinct. “Who were you texting? Was it about the case?”

  “No. It was Nate.”

  “My Nate? When did the two of you start texting?”

  “He’s helping me out with something.”

  “What?”

  “Guy stuff.” Jake circled the island to a white pastry bag but stopped short of opening it. “What did you do to this banana?”

&nb
sp; The banana. I let my head hit the counter, sexist comment forgotten.

  “It’s blue.”

  I raised my head with a sigh. “Bree wants rainbow fruit skewers at the shower. The fruits need to go in proper rainbow color formation. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet. So, I placed the request with the caterers for two hundred each, strawberries, orange slices, pineapple chunks, kiwi cubes, blueberries, raspberries and blackberries. They can’t get the blueberries. There’s some issue with their wholesaler. I don’t know. It sounds like excuses instead of ingenuity. So, I pulled a banana from the fridge and shot it with food coloring, thinking they could just slice and color bananas. It didn’t work, plus it got squishy and brown after sitting out. Bananas are not a hearty fruit once they’ve been disrobed.”

  Jake threw the banana in my trash and capped the tiny food coloring bottle. “I’ll get the blueberries.”

  “Really?”

  His expression of disbelief was almost comical. “You colored a banana.”

  I laughed. “Yeah.” The laughter kept coming.

  He shook his head. “You’re a good sister. I’ll get the blueberries. Nana’s bushes are heavy with them.” He opened the white paper bag. “I’m not sure it goes with Chinese food, but I remember you commented on the baklava at Eric and Parker’s reception.” He lifted two gooey pieces from the bag.

  I’d almost single-handedly wiped out the dessert tray to avoid dancing that night. It was practically our first date and I’d thought more than once what it would be like to be with Jake in front of the priest or spinning into his arms in a white strapless Vera Wang original. That thought series inevitably led to the honeymoon and a bevy of things I’d like to try.

  I focused on my dinner in case the sudden bout of dirty thoughts was written on my face. “Thanks.”

  “So, you’ve got an old guy with a hidden camera and a politician in crisis. I hate to ask, but anything else?”

  I cleared my throat and sucked down half a bottle of cold water. “Not really. I’ve been in touch with about a million cabbies, hoping to find one who picked up the killer and drove him home that night. So far, nothing.”

  “I’m going to need a list of those cabbies and their contact information.”

  “I’ll email it. I also went back through the files I took from Dante’s laptop. One guy was really mad, so I tried to get him to meet with me, but he won’t respond.”

  Jake dropped his head back. “There it is. You promised.”

  “Hey. I planned to ask you—” or Nate “—to come along, if he said yes.”

  He lifted his head. “You can’t write to Chan again, and if he responds to the letter you sent, let me know immediately. Don’t go anywhere near him alone.”

  I squinted. “I didn’t say his name was Chan.”

  Jake patted his pockets, pretending to look for it. “Have you seen my badge, lately? Has a big star on it. Says this isn’t my first rodeo.”

  Yeah, yeah. He had the same files I had. “Why are you looking at Chan?”

  “Did you pull up his priors?”

  No. I’d flipped through dozens of social media pictures of his dogs, jogging routes and healthy meals. “What kind of priors?”

  “Restraining orders from two past girlfriends. They were issued a decade apart, but that only means the women in between were too afraid to file or they didn’t stick around until he got attached. He’s also got a black belt in tae kwon do. He’s got a history of emotional instability and he’s trained to fight. Please avoid this man.”

  I mulled that over. “So Josh’s a stalker?” That was exactly what his emails to Dante had made him sound like. “I always think of stalkers as men stalking women.”

  “Stalkers do all kinds of weird shit. Do yourself a favor and don’t research the topic unless you hate sleep.”

  “I love sleep.”

  He smiled. “Me, too. I’d indulge more often, but something’s always going haywire in the world.”

  My phone’s Skype app began to ring. I shot Jake a look. “Someone’s calling from my mom’s account.” I’d created it years before but she’d never used it.

  “Answer it.”

  “What does she want?”

  He pressed the accept button without answering me. “Hi, Mrs. C.”

  “Oh, dear.” She looked left and right. “I’m so sorry. I was trying to get Mia, but I don’t know what I’ve done wrong.” She slid glasses on her nose and peered into the camera until I could see her pores. “I don’t know what happened. The screen says this is Mia.”

  I pulled my phone in front of me. “Hi, Mom.”

  She jumped back. “Mia? I thought I’d called Jake.”

  “Why were you calling Jake?”

  Her cheeks turned pink. “I don’t know.” Her degree of frazzle increased with every rise and fall of her chest. “My publicist told me to get on the social medias and meet people.”

  “Skype isn’t what you’re looking for, Mom.”

  “I think it is.”

  “Nope.”

  Jake extended the phone away from my chest until we were both in the shot. “I can help you sometime, Mrs. C. I miss working online.”

  She stared. Mouth open. Confusion evident.

  I sighed. “Jake’s at my place, Mom. We were having dinner.”

  “Oh!” She slapped her table and did a big belly laugh. “I thought I’d really done something advanced! No problem. We can talk later. I need to know which trip was your favorite family vacation, but it can wait. Enjoy your macaroni.” She walked away from her desk.

  Jake and I stood shoulder to shoulder, arms extended to support the phone, as Mom hummed her way around the living room, patting pillows and flipping channels.

  “Oh my goodness.” I hung up. “She didn’t disconnect. She’s a train wreck.”

  “How’s her book coming?”

  “I’m not sure. She eavesdrops and stage-winks a lot more.” I set the phone aside and refreshed the email on my laptop. It would be great if Josh agreed to meet while Jake was here so we could coordinate our schedules. New message!

  I opened the mail. It wasn’t Josh, but it would do. “Mr. Peters says he’s home now.” I hit the highlights. “He didn’t appreciate all the messages I left for him while I was at work. I can come over and look at his video files now if I want, otherwise, he’ll be gone until Monday.”

  Jake stuffed half-empty takeout containers into my fridge. “Let’s go. I’m in.”

  I hadn’t doubted that for a second.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I dropped the box of mechanical monkeys in my backseat and led Jake toward Mr. Peters’s home on Lake Drive. The moon hung bright and low in the sky. Millions of stars twinkled overhead. Every one of them knew exactly what had happened here last Friday night, just like Dante, the killer and the squirrels, but no one was talking. Maybe no one had to. I visually trailed a family of black squirrels along powerlines overhead and wondered if Mr. Peters’s obsession with the destructive creatures would be the unlikely key in solving a murder. Maybe he’d unwittingly caught the awful events on camera and his footage would serve as judge and jury. Case closed. Criminal punished.

  Starlight glistened on still lake waters. Jake’s arm brushed mine as we moved. Bree would’ve insisted the moment was fiercely romantic, walking with my beau across a quiet field, a stolen moment of peace in the midst of two busy lives and we’d chosen to share it. She’d have clutched folded hands to her chest and made Disney eyes at me until I agreed. Thank goodness she wasn’t here.

  I scanned the area and crossed an arm over my tummy. Ours wasn’t a romantic walk, it was a moment with no witnesses, beside a lake that had taken the life of someone dear to Grandma, someone who might jump out from the trees and eliminate two people looking f
or answers. No, Jake wasn’t my boyfriend tonight, he was a Deputy US Marshal and my trusty sidekick.

  The boathouse came into view. I paused. “Did the police find any other clues near the lake? Anything else at the bottom?”

  “No.” He tilted his head back for a better look at the building’s roofline. “What are you going to do about the squirrels?”

  “I bought a bunch of motion sensor monkeys.”

  He lowered his eyes to mine. “What?” His expression was strained. “Why?”

  I scanned the area for armed killers, lying in wait. “To use as scarecrows.”

  “That’s nuts.”

  “Do you have a better idea? Don’t say kill them. I’m not allowed to kill them, and I don’t want to.”

  He turned in a circle, surveying. “You could plant corn. Choose the locations strategically, near plenty of trees with squirrel boxes. Lure them into more suitable sections of the community.”

  “I already bought the monkeys.”

  He blew out a long breath. “Let me know if you want me to shoot them.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but the twinkle of mischief in his eye stopped me short.

  My phone buzzed with Bree’s theme song. “Hang on. I’ve got to take this again in case she’s in labor.”

  “Mia?” She asked before I’d had time to say hello.

  “Hi, Bree.”

  “Oh! Good. I thought I might get voice mail. Are you busy?”

  I glanced at Jake. Was I busy since her last call, twenty minutes ago? “Depends on what you need.”

  He turned his head away with a smile.

  “Can you give me the number of that pretty photographer of yours?”

  I puzzled. I didn’t have a photographer. I hadn’t had professional pictures taken in ages. “Who?”

  “You know,” Bree pressed, “the sassy one with the tall dark and yummy husband. She took those fantastic photos of you and Jake last fall. I want to get some pregnancy photos taken before this baby’s born.”

  I closed my eyes. “Tennille.” Tennille King was a resident photog who’d helped me solve a murder with her photos last summer. In the fall she took some ornery pictures of Jake and me, which turned out to be pretty great. We didn’t realize what she was up to until we received our copies. I’d framed mine. “I’ll text you her number.”

 

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