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

by Julie Anne Lindsey

  I coaxed chocolate malt up a straw until my head hurt. “No. Not yet.”

  She sucked the tip of her finger. “I was thinking, when you find a winner, maybe talk to him or her about taking on some of your work for our company.”

  I released the straw and gawked. “What? Why?” I was slacking on my duties, but not so much that it mattered. I normally worked nonstop on Grandma’s company, but I’d had to divert some energy to finding Dante’s killer. Was she disappointed I couldn’t keep up the pace? Was I a bad CIO? “I know I haven’t been here as much as I usually am, but I stay on top of everything from my laptop. I promise.”

  She pressed a soft palm to my cheek. “You’re misunderstanding me. The company is growing like gangbusters thanks to all your hard work. We all know it. The family sees what you consistently put into this business. You give it one hundred and ten percent, every day, just like everything you do.”

  “Then why?”

  “We want you to have time to enjoy your life. It’s a blessed life, Mia. Don’t squander it working yourself to death. You’re a millionaire, for crying out loud. You’ve got a family who adores you. A thriving business. Health. Great friends. A handsome beau, and a lovely figure. Enjoy it all. Take a minute to love your thirty-year-old life because before you know it, you’re old and your best years are behind you. That’s if you’re lucky. Plenty of people don’t get the chance to be old. Believe me, when you’re my age, you’ll wish you’d really lived right now.”

  “I like helping you.”

  She squeezed my hands. “We know you do, and we’re guilty of taking advantage.”

  I didn’t have to ask her to define “we.” My family was “we” and I’d never stop making time for whatever they needed, no matter how overwhelming or bonkers.

  Tom and Dad strutted down the dusty path between booths, rolling a massive wooden circle. They stopped at the front of our booth and wiped their brows with their sleeves. Dad’s face was bright red from sun and exertion.

  I uncapped a bottle of water from Grandma’s cooler and handed it over. “What is that thing?” I stepped outside the booth with another bottle for Tom.

  The big wooden sign rested against our counter. It was a lovely rendering of my eighteen-year-old face with curly golden script announcing, Pampered Womb Products Sold Here.

  The mob of pregnant women and stroller-pushers suddenly made sense. “Bree’s doing a demonstration tonight.”

  Tom handed me his freshly drained water bottle. “Actually, she’s holding a Love Your Body Rally. We’re expecting an incredible turnout. She’s been blogging and promoting across the county at obstetrician and pediatrician offices. She’s given samples to maternity wards and visited mommy and Lamaze groups. There was a mass mailing and flyer distribution. She’s really gotten into this, and the turnout is fantastic.”

  He was right. The crowd was nearly double that of a normal weeknight and most of the faces were glowing with a double dose of hormones.

  Grandma loaded the counter with products from Bree’s new line. “See? It’s no problem for you to take some time off. Everyone will assume Bree is you. We can order her a maternity version of your gown if you want.”

  I laughed. “Definitely not. I like being Queen Guinevere. I like being here.” I leaned my head on her shoulder. “With all of you.”

  “Yes, but it’s okay to love being with someone else, too.”

  Wild applause broke out around us. The women and strollers drew nearer.

  Bree arrived in a golf cart decked out to look like a carriage with no horses. I laughed and clapped with the crowd. How could I miss this?

  Then, she got out.

  My jaw dropped. I gripped the counter to stop myself from covering her with the Love Your Body banner Dad had just hung overhead. “Where are her clothes?” Bree loved to show some skin, but this was ridiculous. She currently had way too much skin to show, and people could see it.

  Grandma fluffed tissue paper in gift bags. “She’s supposed to look like a fertility goddess or something. Isn’t she beautiful?”

  “Uh, no. She’s naked.”

  Tom chuckled his way into the booth beside Grandma. “She’s Aphrodite, the goddess of love, beauty and sexual passion. I think she looks amazing.”

  Bree twirled through the crowd wearing nothing but strategically placed flesh-colored wrappings. The gauzy material flowed behind her arms as she spun. Her tube top was rolled into a literal tube covering her giant pregnancy boobs and bunching at the top of her baby bump, which I now thought of as my forthcoming nieces.

  Tom smiled proudly. “She’s fully clothed, except her belly. We chose material as close to her natural skin tone as possible and commissioned the outfit from a local designer. Her belly has to be exposed as proof of her products’ legitimacy. If her skin wasn’t so flawless, who would want the creams?”

  “Right.” I crept away from the booth for a better look at my sister. Her belly was definitely bare, and the outfit was scanty no matter what he called it. The way she’d arranged her hair, with little white flowers and pins, was cute. It worked well with the costume. Bree made a pretty Aphrodite. Maybe I could take one night off.

  I snuck past Grandma and collected my cell phone from the basket where she put it when she caught me texting. “I might go home and lie in a hot bubble bath until I can’t recognize my pruny toes.”

  She smiled and pushed a forkful of dumpling into her mouth. “Atta girl, but leave the food.”

  I curtsied. “Yes, of course, milady.”

  I sauntered away from the booth feeling lighter and free. The sun had almost set and the sky was lined in spectacular hues of apricot, crimson and gold. I tilted my head back to soak in the moment. It was an unbelievable high not to be expected anywhere. No one was counting every minute I ran late. I couldn’t be late. I had nowhere I had to be. When was the last time that was true?

  I texted Jake before the euphoria wore off. Good luck tonight. I bit my lip and headed for my car. I wanted to tell him to come over later, if he wasn’t staying in Cleveland, but I wasn’t sure how. I checked the distance to my car and decided on one more text. A smaller risk, but a risk nonetheless. I miss you.

  I stared at the phone, hoping I hadn’t said something stupid as I stomped through the overgrown grasses in overflow parking. No response.

  I shouldn’t have told him I missed him. That was too needy. I definitely wasn’t needy. Neurotic? Yes. Nerdy? Every day. Needy? No.

  I had to text again and clarify I wasn’t needy.

  I beeped my doors unlocked and groaned at my stupidity for texting while high on endorphins. It had to be the equivalent of drunk dialing.

  I lifted my gaze to Stella, and a scream lurched through my lips. Dozens of dead-eyed mice covered my windshield. It was too far to run back to the Faire, especially in my gown. I jumped inside the car and locked the doors. Beady, unseeing eyes stared through my windshield. I snapped pictures and texted the shots to Dan. I’d promised myself to keep a specimen for research if the mice deliverer struck again. Calling Dan seemed like a better choice. Crime Scene workers had access to labs I’d never get into. They’d have answers in half the time, leaving me free to have that nervous breakdown I needed. A shudder rushed through me. I rubbed my arms and checked myself for any live specimens potentially clinging to my gown.

  Memories of Dante’s abandoned car came to mind.

  I screamed again and twisted for a look in my backseat. Hallelujah—no unwanted, dagger-wielding passengers.

  My phone buzzed with a text.

  Dan replied to the photos. I’m en route. Don’t move the car and don’t touch the mice. Crime Scene is on the way as well.

  Yep. So much for a relaxing night in the tub.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I texted Nate while I waited for Dan.
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  Nate and Fifi arrived seconds later, bouncing recklessly through the bumpy overflow-field in his Navigator. The truck had barely stopped before Fifi jumped out and ran to my car. She pounded her palms against my window. Fear and distress marred her beautiful face.

  I powered the window down. “How are you here?” I’d barely hit Send on the text and they appeared.

  “We were here when you texted. Stuck in a line of minivans at the entrance.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes. “Why?”

  “I think there’s some kind of mom rally going on tonight.”

  I choked on a laugh. “Not the minivans. You. Why are you here? What about your picnic?”

  She frowned. “We knew you had a terrible day. We wanted to check on you.”

  “Get in.” I unlocked the doors and Fifi took the passenger seat.

  Nate fed a picnic basket through my open window. “Have you eaten?”

  I tried to shove it back. “Yes. Keep this. Why do you have a picnic basket?”

  He tipped his head.

  His proposal picnic. “Oh, no. No. No. No. You eat. In fact, you should leave. Enjoy a romantic dinner. It’s okay. Dan’s almost here.”

  Nate bore down on my tiny car, flames of anger in his usually soft eyes. “Mia, there’s a pile of dead mice on your windshield. The police are on their way. Do you truly believe I’m leaving you alone here under any circumstances?”

  “He won’t,” Fifi said. “We won’t.”

  I pressed the heels of my hands against stinging eyes. “Thanks.”

  Nate set the rejected picnic onto my roof and turned his back to me. He crossed his arms and put his massive size to use, looking dangerous as he stood guard.

  Fifi leaned on the dash, examining the mice from inside the window. “They’re all wet.”

  “I think whoever drowned Dante is taunting me by drowning mice.”

  She sat back. “A real-life game of cat and mouse.”

  “I think I’m the mouse.”

  Dan’s big black truck rolled slowly up the beaten path, leading an ominous procession of cruisers and one nondescript sedan.

  Dan approached with a sad smile. “Hey, Nate, Mia.”

  Nate nodded.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “I’m glad you called this time.” He squatted to look past me. “Fifi. It’s nice to see you again.”

  A pair of women in navy Crime Scene jackets bagged and labeled the mice. Uniformed officers checked the immediate area, kicking the tall grass and inspecting the ground with flashlights. They split off as they moved away, in a wide sweeping arch, checking the tree line, nearby cars and interviewing people in the field.

  Nate turned defensively at Dan’s side. “Who do you think did this, Archer?”

  “I don’t know, but now that we’ve got evidence to test, I’ll have him in custody by the end of the week.”

  I didn’t see how that was possible. “That’s a big promise.”

  Dan leaned his forearms on my open window. “How many times has this happened with the mice?”

  “Four.” I swallowed a lump in my throat, unable to project my voice above a whisper. “The pile keeps growing.”

  He nodded. “That’s why we’ll find him. Whoever is doing this has gotten away with it three times. He’s getting braver with each contact. Braver means sloppier for criminals, plus, you finally called me, so we have evidence to work with now.”

  I tried not to translate braver as escalating.

  “Do you think this is the work of the same person who killed Dante?” Nate asked. “Is there any chance whoever did this is mad about something else? Maybe some stalker from the Faire or someone who knows her online?”

  I’d been nearly killed by men fitting both of those categories last year. The possibility it could happen again squeezed my insides painfully.

  Dan ignored the questions and kept his attention on me. “Does Jake know about this?” He tipped his head to my freshly harvested windshield.

  “No. He’s working on something important tonight, and I don’t want to be a distraction.” Distractions could be deadly for someone in Jake’s position, marching himself stupidly into harm’s way every day. Trying to save the world. Facing off with society’s worst criminals. What was he thinking? If anything happened to him...

  A small sob escaped me.

  “I know this is hard,” Dan said, drawing me back to the moment, “but can you tell me about anyone you’ve spoken to lately who might want to frighten you?”

  I took a steadying breath and kneaded my shaking hands. “I talked to Joshua Chan today. He’s not my biggest fan.”

  Dan rubbed his stubbled neck. “The Joshua Chan who’s suing Dante and threatened to sue you if you contacted him again?”

  Jeez. Jake had a big mouth. “Yeah. I ran into him downtown, but I pretended to be someone else.”

  “Who did you pretend to be?”

  “Ms. Spiga, a woman he met at a convention but rudely forgot.”

  Dan tented his brows. “Do you think he knows who you really are?”

  “No, I was British.”

  Dan swung his wary gaze to Nate and back. “Okay, I’ll talk to Chan.” He stood and rolled his shoulders for a stretch.

  I pushed my head through the window. “I talked to another cabbie today. I went for a quick ride to ask if he’d picked anyone up outside Horseshoe Falls the night Dante died.”

  Dan zipped back into view, regaining his squat. “You did what?”

  Fifi filled him in on my cab theory and our ride around the block with Calvin Besk.

  He made notes in the little flip pad he kept inside his jacket. “I hate to ask, but is there anything else I should know?”

  I dropped my head against the headrest until Fifi came into view. “What about my visitor?” I whispered.

  “What visitor?” Nate and Dan asked in near unison.

  She looked past me for several beats, presumably at the men outside my window. Indecision played her pretty face. “I think you have to.”

  “Mia?” Dan pressed. “I can’t help you if I don’t have all the information.”

  I turned slowly back to him, hating the way this was going. Would there be retaliation if I told Dan about my secret meeting? If so, who would receive the brunt of it? And in what format would the retaliation arrive? “Off the record.”

  “On the record.”

  We had a short staring contest.

  “Fine.” I caved. “I spoke privately with someone today who had motive to get rid of Dante, but I don’t think he did it.” The mice seemed beneath Senator Adams, unless that had been his plan all along—to throw me off. Could he have had someone watching me from the start, trying to scare me away with rodents? “The agreement was that I’d never tell anyone he came to see me.”

  “Who was he?” He wiggled his pen over the paper. “I need a name.”

  Warnings from Marcella, the security guy and the senator rang in my mind. “Vince Adams.”

  “Senator Vince Adams?”

  “He made it clear I wasn’t to tell anyone that we spoke, so tread lightly, okay? If he’s connected to the killing, I don’t want to tick him off or give him a reason to target you.”

  “Adams is on my list already. I’ve gone to his office twice and his home once looking for him. He’s constantly on the move, it’s like trying to nail Jell-O to the wall.”

  “He’s on your list?”

  Dan tapped a finger to his detective shield. “You can go home. Get some rest. I’ll get a message to Jake about this. I’m sure he’ll call you as soon as he can.”

  Nate shook Dan’s hand. “Fifi and I will follow her home and stay with her tonight.”

  Dan clapped him on the shoulder before joining the
Crime Scene women at their car. “You’re a good man, Nathan Green.”

  I blinked back a fresh flood of emotion. He really was.

  Fifi buckled her seat belt. “I’ll ride with Mia.”

  I gunned Stella to life and flipped on my windshield wipers. I violently jammed the lever on my steering console until a river of blue washer fluid flooded the glass. Stella and I had been through a lot this year. She’d had her interior defaced, notes tied to her antenna, dead mice piled on her windshield. How much could one Mini Cooper take? “I might need a new car.”

  Nate followed me onto the highway in his SUV, careful to stay behind my little car in streaming traffic.

  Fifi made a chipper sound. “I love car shopping. Do you have something in mind?”

  “Yeah. A tank.”

  * * *

  The happy couple accompanied me to Congress Lake to pick up my blueberries, then to three all-night grocers where I collected enough fruit to star in a high school algebra word problem. They refused to leave me when we got back to my place, so they spent the night in my guest room.

  I walked to work with Fifi in the morning. We left Nate snoring and grabbed lattes at Dream Bean before moving slowly into the day.

  “How are you holding up?” she asked. “You’re really quiet.”

  “Just thinking.” I treaded the familiar path to the clubhouse with a grand idea percolating in my overburdened mind. Maybe Grandma was right. Maybe it was time for me to streamline my life. She was definitely wrong about where I’d make cuts. I watched Fifi sip her coffee and smile and wave to a family on horseback. What if I passed the community IT torch to Fifi? I loved Horseshoe Falls, but I lived here now, so quitting as the IT manager wouldn’t keep me away.

  “Mia?” she nudged, a hint of worry in her soft soprano.

  “Nothing. Just thinking.”

  “Tell me later?”

  “Definitely.”

  I walked home alone at five with the same idea floating in my head. I could streamline my life.

  It’d been twenty-four hours since CSI collected mice from my windshield, and I hadn’t heard from Jake or Dan. My brain was in some sort of protection mode and anytime I tried to rehash the dead mice situation, my thoughts jumped to nonsense or scenes from my favorite movies. So I succumbed to the mental pressure, donned my favorite LOTR pajamas and set up to make two hundred rainbow fruit skewers.