Lizzie went back to her laptop and flexed her fingers. She watched a virtual blizzard of numbers bounce across the screen. She smiled. She’d just taken care of business. Business that would take care of her for the rest of her life.
Lizzie leaned back on the high-backed stool and let her mind focus on Mr. P.’s game tomorrow night. Did she have a choice? No. Mr. P. was one man you didn’t cross. Ever. She knew she was coming down to the wire when decisions would have to be made. She propped her chin on her elbows and stared off into space.
Just like at lunchtime, eyes bored into Lizzie when she climbed into the rental car. She sat quietly for a moment, not because she needed to meditate but to give her fellow officers something to worry about. She reached down and hit the speed dial again. She spoke slowly and carefully to the switchboard operator. “Please have Mr. Hawk call Detective Jade as soon as he gets this message.”
Now what? She promised the Madsens she would check out their house. How ironic that she was checking her own burglary. Still, a promise was a promise. Chief Shay would fry her ass if he found out she was interfering. And what did Sadie want to talk to her about? She shrugged for the benefit of anyone watching before she turned the key in the ignition.
Lizzie didn’t pick up her tail until she was halfway to the Madsen house. Why am I even going there? I have their daughter’s phone number. All I have to do is head for a pay phone and make the call there. Or, I can risk using my cell phone. Without thinking, Lizzie turned at the corner, laughing when she sailed through just as the light changed. Her tail would have to wait for the next green light. She drove fast, making every right turn she hit until she was back out on the boulevard. She swerved into the parking lot of a Taco Bell, drove around to the back, got out, and walked into the fast-food joint, where she went immediately to the rest room. She picked up the pay phone, dropped in change, and dialed the number Mrs. Madsen had given her.
Lizzie was in luck. Mrs. Madsen answered the phone. She could hear conversation in the background and a baby wailing at the top of its lungs.
“Mrs. Madsen, it’s Aggie. I want you to listen to me very carefully because I only have a minute. I need your promise that you won’t say anything about what I’m going to tell you.”
“Land sakes, dear, of course you have my word.”
“I’m the one who broke into your garage. I’m really sorry about the light. A friend of mine and I drove the car away. I’m also afraid we ruined the rims. We thought someone hid something in Tom’s car. Or mine. It’s hidden, and it’s safe. I’ll make sure it’s returned to you on a flatbed at some point in time. I’m just not sure when that will be, Mrs. Madsen. We didn’t find a thing. We’re going to go over it again. We’re doing the same thing with my car. I’m not free to tell you anything right now because it is a police investigation. Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“Mrs. Madsen, I don’t know if you planned to file an insurance claim or anything. If you were, don’t. I have to go now.”
“Gray and I will do just what you say, Aggie. Don’t worry about us. Take care of yourself, dear.”
“I will, Mrs. Madsen. I think you should move there so you can be close to your daughter. I think you’ll be happier. Bye.”
Damn, where is Nathan?
It was four o’clock when Lizzie let herself into Aggie’s house. The girls were in jeans and tee shirts cleaning up a storm. The vacuum was whirring, dust rags were fluttering, and pails of water were everywhere. Tantalizing aromas wafted from the kitchen to vie with the scent of lemon furniture polish and the pungent odor of Pine-Sol.
Alice spotted her, ran to her to be petted before she ran from friend to friend to keep tabs on the cleaning system. The stereo blasted.
“What are you doing?” Lizzie shouted.
Noreen climbed down from the ladder, where she’d been cleaning the crystals on the dining room chandelier. “We’re cleaning the house for tomorrow. All you have to do is worry about what you’re going to wear. If you tell us the address where your bags are stored, we can go pick it up for you. You need to sparkle tomorrow night, Lizzie. Mr. P. is hoping for big things. We know you can deliver. It’s the least we can do; the man did give us each a thousand bucks. We’ll be done in an hour or so. The kitchen is done, so you can set the table. Have a drink and put your feet up.”
Lizzie nodded as she made her way to the kitchen. She poured herself a large glass of wine and fired up one of the girls’ cigarettes. It was all happening so fast. She really needed to talk to Nathan.
She realized suddenly that she didn’t have a key to Nathan’s condo. All the records were there. She also didn’t have a key to Artie Bennigan’s house, where they’d taken the cars. In addition she didn’t even know the name of the person who was holding her baggage. Aggie’s friend Alex had taken care of that. She could call Aggie and get the phone number and address. Maybe the man would deliver them personally. She should be so lucky.
Lizzie gulped at the wine, finished it, and poured another glass. Where are you, Nathan?
“Lizzie, will you please relax. Pacing isn’t going to help the situation. Nathan is not going to screw you over. The man’s in love with you. I’m sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for why he hasn’t called you,” Noreen said.
Lizzie plopped down on the top step of the front porch. It was a beautiful evening, not too cold and not too warm. A light sweater cloaked her shoulders. She could feel the heat from Alice’s warm body against her leg. “I suppose so.”
“Look on the bright side. At least that guy brought your luggage over. The house is clean, and tomorrow you are going to make a fortune. You have the world by the tail, honey.”
“Noreen, Candy, Honey, would you take all the info to the chief if you were me?” Lizzie asked.
Three heads bobbed as one.
“Lizzie, we can look up that guy’s address in the phone book. We could all go with you and help rip up those seats. It would, of course, be breaking and entering. If you want to do it, we’re with you,” Noreen said.
Lizzie sipped at the cold coffee in her cup. “Don’t think I haven’t thought about that. There’s no point. I’d have a tail on me as soon as we started out. The one thing I don’t want to give away is the location of those two cars.”
Noreen frowned. “Then let us do it. You stay here. We’ll drive around, pretend we’re out for some fun. They aren’t going to tail us. We can do it, Lizzie. Please let us help you. Candy, go inside and see if you can find that guy’s address in the phone book. You said you had a street map, didn’t you, Lizzie?”
“It’s on the front seat of the car. You know me, no sense of direction. It’s not that far from here. Shouldn’t be that much traffic at this time of night. The big question is, how are you going to open the garage?”
Noreen snorted. “Every woman’s perfect tool. A nail file. A good nail file or a pair of tweezers can open anything. Trust me. I’ll take my cell phone and call you if we find anything.”
Lizzie agreed, but she was nervous. This whole thing wasn’t the slam dunk she’d thought it was going to be. Damn, where are you, Nathan?
Chapter Fourteen
Lizzie sat on the front steps of Aggie’s house. She had watched as her friends trooped out to the rental car dressed seductively in spandex tube tops, short shorts to show off their long showgirl legs, and high heels. It was Noreen’s idea to dress provocatively since they were going to a yuppie community. Just in case they were seen, she wanted them to fit into the neighborhood. The illusion of sex, she said, would open many doors that would otherwise be closed. Lizzie didn’t even try to argue with her.
Where is Nathan? Why hasn’t he called? Childishly, she crossed her fingers that she hadn’t made a mistake by trusting him.
Alice wiggled closer. How comforting the dog was. She realized suddenly that she was chilly. When was it finally going to warm up? Probably after she was gone. The thought bothered her. “Come on, baby, let’s go inside. I think I’ll make some mor
e coffee.” Alice was on her feet instantly, waiting patiently for Lizzie to stumble to her feet. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “We’re in the tall grass, baby, I can feel it.” Alice whimpered as she scooted through the door. She barked, a harsh sound, to remind Lizzie to lock the door. She obliged.
Less than four miles away, Noreen drove the car up Artie Bennigan’s driveway, parked, cut the ignition, and climbed out, the girls right behind her. In her hand she had a long stainless-steel nail file and a pair of tweezers. Candy carried a canvas tool bag.
It was a dark night with excellent cloud cover. It would rain by morning. A low-lying fog was starting to roll down the road. Artie’s neighbors, whoever they were, all appeared to be safely indoors. Candy and Honey shivered in the damp air in their skimpy attire as Noreen dropped to her knees to pick the lock. She had it open within seconds and was dusting her hands as the girls scampered inside. Noreen immediately lowered the door. She used her cigarette lighter to find the light switch.
Candy opened the tool bag Lizzie had shoved in her hands. Inside were pliers, a hammer, and four Ginsu knives sharp enough to cut down a tree. They set to work, quickly and quietly.
“Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!” Noreen wailed. “Girls, come quick! Look at this!”
“Never mind that, come see what I found,” Candy cried. “Quick, call Lizzie. Oh, God, what should we do? I thought it would be money. It’s not money!”
Noreen climbed out of the car. She reached into the tool bag to pull out her cell phone. It took her three tries before she was able to successfully punch in Lizzie’s number. Her voice was squeaky but shrill. “Lizzie, it’s drugs in the car! Bags and bags of drugs stuck down in the springs of the seats. All the seats in the car! What should we do? My God, tell us what to do?”
On the other end of the line, Lizzie’s blood ran cold. Car. That’s what Will Fargo had been trying to say with his last dying breath. “How…how many bags, Noreen?”
Noreen looked at her friends. “Lizzie wants to know how many bags there are.”
“At least 150. They probably weigh two pounds each, maybe three, we can’t be sure,” Noreen said, balancing one of the plastic bags in her hand.
“Maybe there’s more than 150. Lizzieeee!” she wailed.
“I’m thinking. I’m thinking. Listen, this is what you do. I saw a box of lawn bags on the shelf over the laundry sink when Nathan and I were there. At least I think I did. Pack it all up in the bags. Back your car up to the door and stick it in the trunk. Wipe away all your fingerprints. When you get here, we’ll take it somewhere. Maybe the chief’s house. I’ll have it figured out by the time you get here. Be careful. Don’t exceed the speed limit whatever you do. I just let Alice out, and there’s a low fog rolling in. Be sure to use your fog lights. Hurry, Noreen.”
Lizzie jumped to her feet and started to pace the kitchen. Now she’d just involved her three best friends in a drug deal. Damn. A hundred-plus bags of cocaine. Possibly as many as two hundred. She squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to calculate the street value. She gave up because her brain refused to comprehend what she was trying to figure out.
Aggie. She needed to call Aggie. She looked up at the clock. It wasn’t too late to call. She looked down at the end of her index finger punching in the numbers. When did I chew the nail off? She wondered if she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “Come on, Aggie, pick up the damn phone,” she muttered. A tinny voice came over the wire saying the party she was trying to reach was either out of range or had the phone turned off. “Double damn.” Where were all these people who were supposed to help her through this mess?
Lizzie’s eyes darted to the clock again. The girls should be safely away from Artie Bennigan’s by now. She flipped open her cell phone again and dialed. Candy answered on the first ring. “It’s me,” Lizzie said. “How heavy are those bags, and how many do you have?”
“Five, and they are heavy. It takes two of us to lift one up,” Candy responded.
“All right, listen to me. I want you to stop at a convenience store and buy a package of latex gloves and a box of trash bags. Buy some hair spray and candy or something so the clerk won’t think anything of it later on if the police question him. Then I want you to go to the Winn-Dixie supermarket. The one closest to here. You shopped there. There’s a Salvation Army bin in the far side of the parking lot. It looks like a Dumpster but there’s a sign on it. Transfer the bags into the new bags, but be sure to wear the gloves. Put the stuff in the bin. I remember Aggie said they check it every day. I guess people in Atlanta are generous with their stuff. Whoever is in charge of the bin will call the police, and it’s out of our hands. Or, we can make an anonymous call ourselves in the morning. Look, just do it, okay, and get back here as soon as you can. Bring the old bags, the new ones, and the gloves back here. Be careful, and stay alert. The cops cruise the parking lots at night because gangs like to hang out in parking lots to terrorize late-night shoppers.”
Lizzie was angry now, angrier than she’d ever been in her entire life. If she ever got her hands on Nathan Hawk again, she would strangle him. As long as she had the phone in her hand, she might as well try him again. She did, but with the same results. She then tried his condo. His machine came on. She left a blistering message. She didn’t feel one bit better. She tried Aggie again and was told the customer she was calling was either out of range or the phone was off.
“This stinks, Alice!” The shepherd raised her head, then lowered it to her paws when she realized Lizzie wasn’t moving.
Five miles away in a suburban subdivision, Erwin Shay prowled his house, going from room to room. He muttered to himself until his wife of many years stood up, placed her hands on her hips, and said, “Erwin, either sit down or go outside. You are making me crazy with your pacing. Do you have gas or something? What are you muttering? My father used to mutter before he had his nervous breakdown. Are you having a nervous breakdown, Erwin? Will you please sit down.”
“Something’s bothering me, Ellie. When something bothers me, I pace. You know that.”
“Most people talk, Erwin. I’m going to turn this television off even though my favorite program is on, and I am going to listen to your problem. It better be good, too. Now, talk. That’s an order.”
Erwin Shay knew that tone. He lowered himself to his favorite recliner, but he didn’t recline. “I can’t put my finger on it, Ellie. Something happened today that I missed. I didn’t exactly miss it. I saw it, whatever it was, but I didn’t act on it. I think it was important. So much is going on, and I’m stretched too thin. Maybe I’m slipping. I’ve been racking my brain since I got home. I know it’s important. Don’t ask me how I know it’s important. I just know it is.”
“For heaven’s sake, Erwin, do what I do. Go back to your starting point and work forward. Re-create your day.”
The chief groaned. “That means I have to go back to the office.”
“I guess that’s why you didn’t change your clothes when you got home. Good-bye, Erwin. Don’t wake me up when you get home.”
Erwin leaned over and kissed his wife’s plump cheek. She smelled like vanilla. “How’d you get so smart?”
“By hanging around you, that’s how. Now, scat, and let me get back to my program that’s almost over! I wish we’d had this little talk while the commercial was on.”
Forty minutes later, Chief of Detectives Erwin Shay strode down the hall to his office. The look on his face bode ill to anyone brave enough to ask what he was doing in the office at this time of night. The second-shift detectives sitting at their desks looked at one another when the door to the chief’s office slammed shut.
A pall settled over the office as cell phones were whipped out.
The chief paced the confines of his office. He muttered. Hell, he should have stayed home. There was more room. He talked to himself as he tried to remember the day in its entirety. He’d been early as always. He had his talk with Sadie. Then there was coffee and a bagel. He’d used the m
en’s room. Phone calls, one after the other. Tom Madsen’s car had been snatched. Aggie Jade’s car was in the garage. Jorgenson had offered to fix it. He’d asked two or three times the name of the garage, but Aggie hadn’t given up the name. Nothing important there.
More phone calls, paperwork. Sadie grumbled about so many faxes coming through one right after the other. He clearly remembered Sadie telling him he needed to look at something. He’d told her he would but later, because he had to go to a meeting. Sadie had scowled at him, saying he was going to be sorry. Sorry for what? A fax?
Erwin looked at the rat’s nest of paperwork on his desk. He was not a tidy man, as his wife reminded him daily. Sometimes on her less charitable days she called him a slob. It was true, so he couldn’t complain. He picked up the phone and barked into it. “Get me Sadie on the phone. Be nice. She was real cranky today.”
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