“Don’t worry about me.” She tapped her head. “I have a plan.”
The last thing I’d expected when I headed out to snoop around HVC was to find Francine Wheeler breaking and entering. Even if she did have a set of keys—of questionable origin, as far as I was concerned—her presence inside the building after dark seemed less on the up and up than mine. I had dueling thoughts racing through my head. Get out of here and notify the police, and Do some snooping yourself now that you’re inside.
The police won. Not because I called them, but because suddenly, the lobby of the building was awash in blue and red lights that splashed through the front glass doors thanks to the police cruisers in the parking lot.
“Come on. We have to get out of here,” Francine said. She stooped down and grabbed the cardboard mailing tubes and headed toward the back door. I ducked behind the receptionist’s desk and looked for something—anything—that might make my trip worthwhile. The desk was neat in the way that only an employee who plans to be gone for a few days will leave it. I grabbed a small black spiral-bound calendar from under the telephone and followed Francine out the back. As the door closed behind me, I watched a hybrid hatchback leave a parking spot down the street. Francine had gotten away undetected.
I was not so lucky.
* * *
“MS. Tamblyn, do you know what a crime of moral turpitude is?” Detective Nichols asked. We were back at the fairy-tale police station, only it was rapidly losing its charm. The detective and I were seated in the same room as before, and once again, she’d chosen a chair directly opposite me. I felt exposed, vulnerable. Especially since this way gave her a full view of what could easily be described as my stealthy black burglar costume.
“No.”
“It’s the intent to commit burglary.”
“I wasn’t burglarizing Haverford Venture Capital.”
“Then why don’t you tell me what you were doing there?”
“I must have walked over every inch of Proper City from the time I grew up. I’ve never been picked up by the police before. Why tonight?”
She let my question go unanswered. I sensed that she wanted me to talk more, but I fought the urge to converse. I was sitting in a room with the woman who was going to attend the annual Halloween party with my secret boyfriend. There was a slight possibility that whatever I said wouldn’t have anything to do with her case.
Minutes ticked by on the clock on the wall. The longer the silence spread, the more aware I became of the subtle tick of the passing seconds. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Which quickly started to sound like Think. Think. Think. We spent the most awkward two minutes and sixteen seconds together that I could have imagined. I was surprised when she broke the silence first.
“Help me out here. I’m investigating a murder. I have video of you destroying the security camera in the elevator where the body was found. I have evidence that places you in the victim’s office, and evidence that shows that you were angry when you were there. Now, thanks to an anonymous tip, my officers find you casing the victim’s place of business. You keep telling me you’re not guilty of anything, but that doesn’t match up with your actions. Which do you want me to believe? What you say or what you do?”
Her softened tone of voice was different from how she’d spoken to me in the past. This time it felt like she really did want to listen to what I had to say. “I wasn’t the only person at HVC tonight. Yes, I went there to snoop. But I found Francine Wheeler inside. You remember her, right? The seismologist? She said Paul Haverford gave her keys, so maybe she had a right to be there. I don’t know. But if I were you, I’d look into her alibi. She is opposed to Havetown and told me she’d do anything to stop it. Anything,” I stressed again.
“So by your count, I have at least five other people I should be investigating: Francine Wheeler, Annette Crowley, Bill Perth, Sol Girard, and Spider-Man. Did I get that right?”
My face flushed hot with deception. “I’m trying to help you here.”
“So are your friends.” She picked up another piece of paper. “Bobbie Kay called and said she would vouch for you as a character witness. Don Digby said that Paul Haverford may have been involved in funding secret government experiments and was taken out because someone thought he was a risk to national security. And Ms. Ebony Welles called earlier today and said we shouldn’t discount the ghost of Pete Proper.”
It was good to have friends. Even if they were all a little crazy.
“Everything I have told you since I discovered the body of Paul Haverford has been true. If you would follow up on that statement and use it as the foundation to your investigation instead of focusing on me, you might have answers right now. Yes, I was mad when Haverford came to the costume shop last week. And yes, I went to his office to try to reason with him. But I didn’t kill him. And for you to think for a moment that I did, well, that says a lot about you.” I was angry. I stood up. “Are you going to arrest me or put me in a holding cell? Because tomorrow is Halloween, and I have a lot to do. So if you’ve got some kind of master plan here, let’s get on with it.”
Detective Nichols stood with me. “You’re free to go, Ms. Tamblyn.” We walked out to the lobby. “Do you need a ride home? We didn’t find your scooter in the parking lot, and the Zip lines are done running for the night.”
I would rather walk the two miles home than arrive in a cop car. I pulled my cell out of my pocket. There were several missed texts from Grady. I put the phone back into my pocket. “Dead battery,” I lied. “Can I use your phone to call a friend?”
“No need,” I heard from behind. I turned around and saw Tak leaning against the inside door, arms crossed over his chest.
Chapter 29
“WHERE DID YOU come from?” Detective Nichols and I asked at the same time. Even thought the situation called for it, it would have been wrong to say “Jinx.”
“Are you done here?” Tak asked the detective. She nodded. He held his arm out. “I’ll take you home, Margo.”
I followed him out of the police station to his SUV. He remote unlocked it and I climbed in. Neither of us spoke until he pulled up in front of Disguise DeLimit.
“My father and I came here tonight. He wanted to talk to you directly about the Halloween party at Proper City Park.”
“But I wasn’t here.”
“I know. I called Ebony, but she didn’t know where you went. I called Bobbie. I even called Coop. It didn’t seem like you to blow off a meeting with my dad.”
“I thought he or your mom were going to call. I didn’t know he was going to come personally.”
“My father believes in handling business face-to-face. While we were here, Grady O’Toole showed up. He said you were in trouble, something about Bill Perth not washing his car like he was supposed to, and that you were about to do something risky. I called Nancy and the dispatch officer told me she was with someone they picked up at Haverford Venture Capital. Talk to me, Margo. What’s going on?”
“I can’t talk to you, Tak. Not anymore.”
“I think you owe me an explanation.” He looked out his window. The moonlight illuminated the straight line of his nose and accented his defined cheekbones. The shadows in the hollows of his cheeks only served to pronounce them more. His black hair was pushed back, though one side fell forward and hung over his dark brown eyes. Even though he wasn’t facing me, I could see pain in his face.
I reached out and put my hand on his arm. “It’s not what you think,” I said.
He looked at me. “Then tell me what it is, because that’s how it looks.”
I pulled my hand back and curled my hands up in each other. “I’ve been in charge of Disguise DeLimit for only a few months now, and we’re at risk of losing it because of the plans for Havetown. Somebody else wanted to stop Paul Haverford even more than I did. But Bill Perth is going forward with the plans for Havetown even though Paul H
averford was murdered. Not only is he moving forward, but he’s claiming that he was a fifty percent silent partner in the business and that now he’s entitled to one hundred percent of the profits. That’s a lot of money if he can prove it.”
“Can he?”
“I don’t know. It would be hard to prove a partnership that even he admits was made by verbal contract, but then again, the only person who could deny it isn’t around to deny anything.”
“What did Grady mean about Bill Perth’s car and you doing something risky?”
“I followed Perth home from the town hall meeting the other night. He lives in Christopher Robin Crossing. So does Grady. I called him—Grady, not Perth—and asked what he could tell me about him.”
“And somehow you ended up with the idea that Perth was washing his car and you could break into his office and snoop around.”
“No! Okay, yes, I went to HVC to snoop, but I didn’t plan to break in. Francine Wheeler was there. Inside. She broke in, not me. And when she found me, she pulled me in, and that’s where I was when the police found me.”
“You got lucky this time. You might not be so lucky the next.”
“I was picked up by the police. How is that lucky?”
“I asked Grady if he knew where you were and he said yes. I told him to call the police and report suspicious activity at that location. They sent a car, and you were taken to the station. Bill Perth doesn’t even know that you were there.”
“But—”
“But nothing. Grady was right. What you did was risky. Nobody knew where you were going. What if something had happened to you? How would your dad feel? Or Ebony? Or Bobbie? Did you stop to think about what it would do to your friends if you became the next victim?”
I thought back to the police station, to the various suspects that my friends had suggested that Detective Nichols investigate. Don’s government agents and Ebony’s ghost-of-Pete-Proper theory. And even Bobbie, a pillar of the community because of her nonprofit work with Money Changes Everything. She was willing to stake that reputation on me and serve as a character witness.
For as long as I could remember, I’d been too afraid of taking chances to fully live my life. I cherished the familiar and did what I could to keep people safe. Even the seven years that I’d spent working in Las Vegas had been a challenge. Being on my own for the first time, making new friends and adopting Soot, it had served the dual purpose of showing me what life would be like if everybody and everything I knew went away and I had to start over. Ultimately, I’d chosen to return to Proper City and take over the family business. I wanted to be a part of the community. Tak’s words stung, if only because they showed how clearly I valued everybody else more than I thought they valued me.
“Tak, I never meant to insult your father, and I never meant to be a burden to you.”
“Who said you were a burden?”
“You came to the police station to run interference between Detective Nichols and me. I can’t think of many more awkward situations.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re dating her again. I wish I hadn’t heard about it from Gina Cassavogli, but it is what it is.”
“That’s what’s bothering you.”
“Thank you for helping me out tonight, but I can take it from here.”
I climbed down out of his SUV and let myself into the store. I found Soot asleep behind the rack of feather boas. He growled at me—no doubt because I woke him up—and then stretched his paws out in front and slowly stood up.
“Come on, Soot, we don’t have time for you to do yoga. I need to talk.”
He looked up at me and meowed again. Instead of carrying him upstairs with me, I sat down on the cold concrete floor next to him. “Okay, fine, we can talk here. What do you think I should think about Tak? Twice now I’ve brought up him dating the detective. He doesn’t deny it. But he showed up at the police station to help me. Why? Is he trying to string me along while he dates her? Or is it over?” I bent my knees and wrapped my arms around my legs. Soot ducked underneath like he was going through a tunnel, and came out the other side. He brushed his head against my hip and nuzzled my elbow. I rubbed his fur by his ears.
“And now there’s this thing with his father. Did I offend him? And if so, how do I make it up to him? I don’t know what he wanted to say when he came here, and now it’s too late to call. Even if it wasn’t too late, I can’t just call. You heard what Tak said. I have to go there and talk to him face-to-face. And it’s not just about Halloween anymore.”
Soot turned around and meowed again.
“You think I’m making this into too big of a deal? As far as I know, Tak is dating his ex-girlfriend, who just so happens to be the lead detective on the murder case where I’m being investigated. His father thinks I insulted him, and Ebony needs his father to agree to participate in the PCP Halloween party. How would you feel?”
Soot ducked back under my knees and walked in front of me. He turned around, sat on his gray haunches, and let out a howl that the employees of the frozen yogurt store across the street probably heard.
“Soot!”
And then, as if nothing had happened, he lowered his head, licked his paw, and started washing his face. I pushed myself up, and then squatted down in front of him. “You made your point.” I ruffled his freshly cleaned fur and went upstairs. The house was once again quiet. I tiptoed past my dad’s room, not sure if he was in there, and not sure how I’d explain my night if he was.
* * *
Monday/Halloween
The next morning, I dressed like the devil. Red dress, red tights, red boots. Red gloves. Red wig. Red horns, red pitchfork, and red forked tail that hung from a red patent leather belt. Instead of a smoothie, I poured a glass of tomato juice, which matched my outfit, and carried it downstairs. I unlocked the front doors and stepped outside.
It was Halloween day.
Some towns had started to celebrate trick-or-treating on the Saturday or Sunday night that was closest to October 31, but not us. We built the event around the date. Most of the residents dressed in costume first thing in the morning and kept them on all day.
Across the street, the staff of Froyo was dressed in bellhop uniforms. Purple velvet jackets, pinstriped pants, and small matching hats with tassels from the top. I raised my glass of tomato juice to them and they waved back. A mobile home pulled up to the curb in front of me and blocked my view.
This was no place to park a mobile home. I walked around the back of the vehicle. The logo on the side said Minnie Winnie, followed by Winnebago. The temporary paper license was from Nevada, and the plastic frame to the plate said Moxie Winnebago. Whoever the owner was, they’d just recently made their purchase.
The doors to the Winnie opened up while I was standing around back. A man dressed in a long black cape lined in red satin climbed out of the driver’s side. His gray hair was combed away from his face and slicked down. He walked around the front of the Winnebago. Cars zipped past. I went back to the sidewalk.
“Excuse me, you can’t park that thing here,” I said. “This is my store and you’re blocking the entrance.”
The man joined me on the sidewalk. He was easily over six feet tall. A prominent widow’s peak on his forehead pointed down toward thick gray brows that framed out bloodshot red eyes. Under his cape was a white shirt, black waistcoat, and gold cross that hung on a thick gold chain. He walked right up to me and raised his hand to my face. Even though I appreciated the intricacies of his costume, I pulled back for a split second.
“Margo, it’s me,” he said.
“Dad?”
He reached up and poked his finger into his eye. Out came a red contact lens. He repeated on the other eye and held both in the palm of his hand, and then removed a set of false upper teeth. “Those things were driving me crazy,” he said.
First thing I di
d was hug him. Second thing I did was cross my arms and tap my foot. “What’s with the car? Last I checked, Dracula didn’t drive a Winnebago.”
“It’s my new car. What do you think?”
“It’s your— What?” I stared at the large mobile home. “What do you need this thing for?”
He pulled out a rag and wiped at an invisible spot on the side. Now that the contacts were out, his eyes were bright and shiny with joy. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen such enthusiasm on my dad’s face. “I got the idea when I was snowed in. Who wants to rely on airplanes when you can travel at your own pace? I’m going to take her around the country. There’s room for me to sleep in the back and plenty of space for any costume purchases I might make.”
“Her?”
“Celeste. I named her after your mother.”
That’s when I knew. My dad hadn’t been going to singles mixers. He hadn’t been dating Marilyn Robinson. He hadn’t been looking for a new relationship. He’d been giving me privacy while figuring out a way to follow his own lifelong dream of traveling the country scouting for unique items for the store. And he’d found a way for my mother to be a part of that dream.
“Dad, I’ve never been more proud of you than I am right now,” I said.
“And I’ve never been more proud of you than when you called this your store. Come on, let me show you the inside.”
The tour of the Winnebago took ten minutes, but we turned it into an hour. My dad brewed two cups of instant coffee in his miniscule kitchen. I told him how the rat costume had turned out, the party that was taking place at Proper City Park, and how Ebony was reaching out to local businesses to help set the whole thing up.
“Then what are we sitting around here for? We should be at the PCP helping her. Are you ready to go?”
“You go first. I’ll join you shortly. First, there’s something I have to take care of.”
* * *
HOSHIYAMA Kobe Steak House sat on an otherwise vacant lot on the west end of Proper. The building was long and low, with a flat roof that was set off by curved wooden beams. I drove past the parking lot and pulled my scooter behind the bank. Unlike other cities, Proper businesses didn’t mind if you used their parking during off hours, and this allowed me the chance to check my reflection in the glass doors of the bank before entering the restaurant. Perhaps I should have rethought my devil costume.
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