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Trading Places

Page 17

by Fern Michaels


  One of the blue-haired ladies in the back said, “He wants to know if you’re falling in love with him, too, girlie.”

  Lizzie leaned back in her seat. “Have you been telling people our business, Nathan?”

  “US-huh.”

  “Oh. My answer is…my answer is…probably.”

  “We’re going to have to call a taxi to take us home. Want to spend the night at my place?”

  “Well, sure, Nathan. My house is full of people.”

  Nathan wagged a playful finger under Lizzie’s nose. “See, I knew that. That’s why I suggested my place. My place is nice. It doesn’t smell or anything. Not like that…place last night.”

  “We need to talk, Nathan.”

  “About what? I thought we settled everything.”

  “That’s right. Where is our food?”

  Nathan shrugged. “Beats me.”

  Lizzie started to laugh and couldn’t stop. She held up her wineglass, and said, “Here’s to me and you.”

  “Bravo!” the two blue-haired ladies chortled.

  Chapter Ten

  Lizzie swung her legs over the side of the bed before she groaned and dropped her head into her hands. “Oh, God, I have the Queen Mother of all headaches.”

  Nathan maneuvered his long, lean frame until he was sitting next to her. “I’ll fight you for that title. It’s been years since I woke up in this condition. I don’t even remember getting into bed. We’re still dressed.”

  Surprise rang in his voice. “We slept together in a bed. I wish I could remember what happened.”

  Lizzie groaned again. “Nothing happened. One of us would remember if something happened. The last time I had a headache like this was the day Aggie and I graduated from college. I never have more than two drinks. I don’t like losing control. How did we get home?”

  “Remember those two ladies with the blue hair? They drove us home. We promised to invite them to the wedding if we ever get married.”

  “Oh myyyy God!” Lizzie groaned. “You have coffee, don’t you?”

  “Yep. That’s about all I have. I might have some crackers, but that’s pretty much it in the way of food.”

  Lizzie massaged her temples. “Food is of no interest to me right now. Look, Nathan, the sun is out!”

  “You make the coffee, Lizzie, while I shower. Or, I can make the coffee and you shower. I need to call in to the paper. How about you?”

  “I’ll do the coffee. I have calls to make, too. I guess you know we missed Daniel Fargo’s eight o’clock phone call last night. I want to check the messages. I guess I’m just not cop material.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You were off duty.” At the doorway to the bathroom, Daniel turned to face Lizzie, who was struggling to get to her feet. “I used to have a pair of sneakers that smelled like my mouth tastes. I have a spare toothbrush I’ll leave on the vanity for you.”

  Lizzie winced. “Thanks for sharing that, Nathan.”

  As Lizzie made her way through Nathan’s condo, she had the impression that everything was white. Blinding white. She longed for sunglasses. And aspirin. A whole bottleful. Her head felt like a bongo drum someone was beating on. If Aggie could see her now, she’d shake her head in disgust.

  A bright red coffeepot stood on the kitchen counter. Next to it was a can of Folger’s and a package of brown filters. Lizzie ran water from the tap, filled the pot, and added coffee with a red plastic scoop before she picked up the kitchen phone. She dialed Aggie’s voice mail code and waited. “Detective Jade, this is Daniel Fargo again. I need to talk to you desperately. I’ll keep calling you till I reach you. I’m sorry I don’t have a number I can leave with you. I tried calling you at the station house, but they said you were off duty. I’ll keep trying every two hours until I reach you.”

  There were other messages, too. Lizzie skimmed over them, only clicking on Daniel Fargo’s messages. He’d left five other messages. All of them were the same, all of them had the same note of desperation with the possible exception of the last one which was so frantic, the man could barely speak. She hung up the phone, then had an idea.

  Lizzie picked up the phone, dialed into the voice mail and changed the message Aggie had left for callers. “This is Detective Agnes Jade. If you need to reach me in an emergency, please call this number, 419-5058, or leave a number where you can be reached.”

  The minute the coffee stopped dripping, Lizzie poured herself a cup. She didn’t bother with cream or sugar.

  Nathan entered the kitchen, an aspirin bottle in hand. His hair was still damp from the shower, but he was freshly shaved. He had on khaki slacks and a yellow button-down shirt. Today must be a casual day. He smelled wonderful. She explained about the messages and the phone. “Come and get me if he calls.”

  Lizzie swallowed four aspirin before she shuffled toward the bathroom and the shower.

  Twenty-five minutes later, dressed in the clothes she’d worn the day before and then slept in, Lizzie marched out to the kitchen and headed straight for the coffeepot. The phone rang just as she brought the cup to her lips. Nathan’s hand snaked out to pick up the receiver. His greeting was brisk and professional sounding. “Yes, Detective Jade is here. Just a minute and I’ll get her.” He mouthed the words it’s him for Lizzie’s benefit.

  “This is Detective Jade,” Lizzie said. She sipped at the coffee as she listened to the agitated voice on the other end of the phone. “Let me be sure I understand you, Mr. Fargo. You’re in Atlanta now. Did you change your mind about returning home? Oh, you were home and drove back. Oh, you flew partway and drove the rest of the way and your brother is with you. Is something wrong? Did you come back for Will’s ashes?” She rolled her eyes for Nathan’s benefit.

  “What is it you think I can help you with? You’ll tell me when you see me. Well, all right, Mr. Fargo. Where would you like to meet?”

  Lizzie looked up to see Nathan pointing to the floor. “Meet him here,” he whispered.

  “Let me give you an address, Mr. Fargo. I’m staying with a friend for a few days.” She rattled off Nathan’s address. “Rush hour is over, so it shouldn’t take you more than forty minutes to get here. I’ll meet you in the lobby and bring you upstairs where we can talk in private. Good. I’ll see you then.”

  Lizzie looked across the kitchen at Nathan. “You heard my end of the conversation. The man is scared out of his wits.” She threw her hands up in the air. “I think I should call Aggie. What do you think?”

  “I think that might be a very good idea, Lizzie. How’s your headache?”

  Lizzie grimaced. “About the same as yours. This is a very sterile-looking condo, Nathan. There are no personal touches. Don’t you have any plants or junk to put out?”

  “No. I’m never here. I don’t have time to take care of what I have, let alone plants. You have to water them.”

  “You could get silk ones. You just blow the dust off with a hair dryer. Some colored cushions would perk this place right up. You don’t strike me as a chrome-and-glass kind of guy.”

  “I bought the condo furnished. I moved in with my clothes and toothbrush. I just sleep here.”

  Lizzie sat down and wrapped her hands around her coffee mug. “It has a temporary feel to it. Sort of transient, if you know what I mean. Curtains on the windows would add something to your kitchen. You have to have curtains. I think that’s a rule or something. Aggie’s little house is cozy and warm. She has curtains and drapes everywhere. Welcoming. You want to take off your shoes and curl up when you go to her house.”

  “What’s your place like, Lizzie?” Nathan asked curiously.

  “It’s kind of like this place but more spacious. It’s a penthouse with wraparound windows. The view at night is magnificent. It’s not mine, though. I guess you could say it’s elegant. It has silk flowers and silk trees. I like the fact that it has a built-in safe. When it’s time to go, all I have to do is open the safe, take my stuff, and walk away. It was all done by a professional decorator. I
t doesn’t feel like home. It’s just a temporary place to live. A wonderful perk, like the Mercedes.”

  “So you haven’t put down any roots in Vegas. Do you think he has the stuff with him?”

  “No, no roots. Damn straight he has it with him. That’s what’s bothering him. I was going to call Aggie, wasn’t I?” She reached behind her for the phone and dialed her sister’s cell phone number. The mobile operator said the person she was calling was either out of range or the phone was off. Lizzie shrugged. “She’s probably outside watering her organic carrots.”

  “Keep your eye on the clock, Lizzie. I’ll make some more coffee. Are you nervous?”

  “Yes, Nathan, I’m nervous. I’m not sure what to expect. Let’s just say, for the sake of argument, he brings back whatever Will stowed away. We’re thinking money. He turns it over to me, and walks away. Then I take possession of…whatever it is. What does that make me? A coconspirator?”

  “I’m your witness, Lizzie. Listen, we’ll make him sign something. I won’t let you put yourself on the hook for this.”

  “Nathan, read my lips. I am not a cop. I am impersonating a cop. I can sign papers from now till the end of time, and they won’t mean a thing because I am not Aggie Jade. That means all the evidence will get thrown out by a smart lawyer. God, I could just cry right now.”

  “Don’t cry. I have an idea. When my sister was here last year, she left her video camera. How about if we set it up in the living room and tape the guy. I’ll put it on top of the TV and put some books around it. That way, everyone is covered, and we have a tape. They do stuff like that in the movies all the time. What do you think?”

  Lizzie looked over at the clock on the stove. “Okay, do it. It’s better than nothing. Actually, it’s kind of clever now that I think about it. Good thinking, Nathan.”

  Nathan beamed with pleasure. Lizzie smiled. “Listen, while you’re doing that, I’ll go down to the lobby. They might be early. I just want to get this over with.”

  Ten minutes later, Lizzie watched as Will Fargo’s two brothers entered the high-rise and walked over to the security desk. She intercepted them by waving and smiling. They both looked awful; their clothes looked worse than hers, and they were unshaven, their eyes red and tired-looking. They looked guilty.

  Daniel reached for her hand and drew her away so they were out of earshot of the security guard sitting at the desk. “We’re returning Will’s things. Do you have a service elevator or should we just carry the…the bags in?”

  Bags. Lizzie tried to be nonchalant. She shrugged. “I don’t see a problem with your bringing your brother’s things up in the tenant elevator. I can hold the door for you. Why are you bringing his things back? You better not be telling me the airline broke the butterfly cases. The chief will pitch a fit. You could just take his stuff back to the station.” She was babbling, and she knew it. The brothers weren’t even listening because they were twitching with nervousness.

  The guard watched curiously as the two brothers made two trips to the trunk of their car to return with dark green lawn bags. For the guard’s benefit, Lizzie winked and said, “It’s a surprise for my brother’s birthday. Don’t give it away now.” The guard shrugged as he bent forward to answer the phone.

  Five minutes later they were riding up the elevator. “What happened to the boxes with the red sealing wax? Did you find more stuff that belonged to your brother? I don’t understand any of this,” Lizzie grumbled.

  “Just you wait. You’ll understand as soon as we get inside.”

  “You certainly are being mysterious.” Lizzie held out her hand to Daniel’s brother.

  “I’m Detective Agnes Jade.”

  “I’m Donald, the youngest,” the brother said, shaking her hand. His hand was wet and clammy. Lizzie wiped her hand on her pant leg.

  She held the door of the elevator while the brothers lugged the lawn bags down the hall. Nathan opened the door before she could ring the bell. The brothers, their faces riddled with panic, took a step backward and eyed her with suspicion.

  “He’s my lover. Why else would I be here? You can talk in front of him, he’s not a cop.” And neither am I. “Nathan, this is Daniel and Donald Fargo. Will’s brothers.”

  “Sit down. Coffee?” Nathan asked, playing the host.

  “No thanks,” Daniel said. He switched his attention to Lizzie.

  “Sit down. Tell me what’s wrong? Why did you come back here? I don’t think the department can store Will’s things. I suppose you could rent a storage locker, but to what end?”

  His expression bleak, Daniel dropped to his knees and opened one of the lawn bags. He dumped the contents on the floor. Lizzie gasped. Nathan sat down with a thump, his gaze glued to the pile of money and a key ring.

  “Whose…whose money is that? Where did you get it?” Lizzie asked, her voice barely a squeak.

  Donald, the youngest brother, quickly opened the other bags and dumped their contents on the floor until there was a small mountain of bundled money. “It was in Will’s belongings with the butterflies.”

  “How much is it?” Lizzie whispered.

  Daniel wiped at his forehead with the back of his hand. “We tried to count it. It’s well over a million, maybe two. We kept getting mixed up when we tried to count it, and then we just said to heck with it. It’s a lot, okay? Where did my brother get this kind of money, Detective Jade?”

  “I don’t know, Daniel. I can tell you what I suspect, but I can’t prove it.”

  “It’s drug money. That’s the only explanation that makes sense. We were going to keep it at first, but then common sense kicked in. We both read the papers and know how drug people go after you. We don’t want to look over our shoulders for the rest of our lives. We don’t want to know where Will got all that money. We’re giving it back, and that’s that. Here it is. We kept enough to pay for Will’s cremation, our airline flights, and the rental car. We also had breakfast and two dinners. If anyone wants to kill us for that, then let them. It’s all yours.”

  Lizzie stared at him. “Speaking of old Will, where is he?”

  “In the bottom of the bag. He’s in a box. He’s all yours, too.”

  “Wait just a minute. He’s your brother. You can’t…you can’t just leave him here,” Lizzie said through clenched teeth.

  “No, you wait a minute, Detective. Donald and I are decent people. We don’t do drugs, and we don’t buy or sell them either. We did get carried away there for a little while, but we’re making this right. We want a receipt.”

  Nathan spoke for the first time. “For the money or your brother?”

  “Both,” Daniel said smartly. “That last bag, the one with Will in it, has some papers that might make sense to you. The keys to his apartment are there, too. We both washed our hands of this…this whole thing. If you’ll just give us the receipt, we’d like to leave.”

  Lizzie’s eyes were wild. Her head pounded so hard she thought it was going to spin off her neck. “Do you have a receipt, Nathan?”

  “No, I’m fresh out of receipts. Can I just write it on a piece of paper?”

  The two brothers looked at one another. They nodded. “Just make sure you sign it so your name is legible and you are our witness,” Daniel said, jabbing a finger in Nathan’s direction. “You sign the word witness after your name.”

  “Okay,” Nathan said agreeably. He made his way to the kitchen, where he opened one of his various junk drawers to find a pad of paper. He ripped off a sheet, grabbed a pen, and returned to the living room. He handed both paper and pen to Lizzie.

  Lizzie clenched her teeth. She nodded for Daniel to start talking.

  “Just say we returned over a million dollars to you with Will’s papers. Write down that we aren’t criminals. Say we gave you Will, too.”

  Lizzie stopped writing. If possible, her eyes were even wilder-looking. “Now you see, that’s the part I don’t like. Your giving me Will. I don’t know if you can legally give up a dead relative like this.
You’re the next of kin. There might be legal complications later on.”

  “Too bad. Write what we tell you to write. We don’t care what you do with Will. He’s brought shame on us. Can’t you write faster?”

  “I’m writing as fast as I can. What if I need to get hold of you? How can I reach you?”

  “Don’t bother. We don’t ever want to see you people again. It’s bad enough that we know our brother was a criminal. We don’t need any more reminders. Now, let me read what you wrote.” Daniel reached for the piece of paper. He read it, then passed it to his brother, who read it, nodded, and handed it back to Lizzie.

  “Sign your name. Put your shield number on it and your social security number. You, too,” Daniel said, pointing to Nathan. “Put your social security number under your name.”

 

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