by Jane Tesh
“I can’t guarantee that. There will come a time when I need a favor, and you will say yes. Otherwise, no deal.”
When Big Mike had visited, he’d been extremely polite and jolly, but I’d sensed something about him I never wanted to rile. If honoring this favor was the only way I could rescue Jerry and make Derek disappear, I would have to say yes.
“You won’t kill anyone, will you?”
“I’ll make certain Derek doesn’t bother you or Jerry again.”
Wondering what in the world I was getting myself into, I agreed.
“A pleasure doing business with you, Madeline. By the way, this number was only good for one call. Good evening.”
I put my phone away. What have I done? Made a deal with the king of the con men. Now I owe him a favor. All I could think of were those fairy tales where the princess has to give up her firstborn child. Well, since I couldn’t get pregnant, that wasn’t a problem. But what could someone like Big Mike need? Had I made an amazingly foolish decision?
Then Jerry called up the stairs. “Mac? We’re leaving now.”
“Just a minute.”
We met at the foot of the stairs. Due to the seriousness of this venture, Jerry wore his plainest gray tie. The minute I saw him, I knew I’d made the right decision. I’d do anything to protect him. I gave him a fierce hug.
He returned the favor. “It’s probably better if you stay here.”
“No, I’m coming, too. I’ll bring my car and wait outside.”
“If anything goes wrong—”
“It won’t. I promise.”
He couldn’t keep me from joining this little adventure. “All right. But at the first sign of trouble, you need to get away.”
Whether Big Mike comes through or not, I’m not getting away without you, I wanted to tell him.
***
I expected a dark, grubby bar located down a side alley, but Talley’s was on one of Parkland’s main streets. Warm light spilled out its windows, along with lively conversation and the sounds of cheering as various teams scored. I didn’t see Derek’s silver car, but figured he didn’t want to be that obvious. I sat in my car across the street, ready to bolt if I heard sirens and Jerry came running.
Nothing.
People went in and out, mostly men, but several couples. Which man was the mysterious bad character and how much did Derek owe him? How dangerous was he? Was he likely to cause trouble? I was also on the lookout for Big Mike’s black Hummer. No, he wouldn’t be that obvious, either.
This is what it’s come to. Here I am, poised to drive the getaway car, an accessory to whatever nefarious scheme Derek was playing. And Jerry had been trying so hard to stop. Well, if I ever got sucked back into the pageant world, I was sure he’d do his best to get me out.
The longer I sat, the more my worries grew. Jerry could protest all he liked, but if we ever got out of this situation, I would never let another one of his friends come near him, no matter how creepy or innocent they appeared. We wouldn’t be in this fix if I’d kicked Derek’s big fat rear off my porch.
An hour went by, then another. I wanted to scream with impatience. How much time did this con take? Suppose things went really wrong, the game was discovered, and that happy crowd in the bar turned into an angry mob? What if Double-Dealing Derek lived up to his name and double crossed Jerry, leaving him to take all the blame? Or what if the con was a success, but Derek pulled a gun on Jerry or stabbed him and took all the money?
Okay, that was it. I had to go in. As I reached for the door handle, a face at my window made me jump. A young woman all in black with a long blond braid under a black baseball cap gazed at me with wide eyes. She looked so youthful, I thought at first she was a child. I kept a firm grip on the handle and with my other hand, reached for the keys in the ignition, ready to drive off if she attacked. What was she doing out here? What did she want? Was she homeless and looking for a handout? A thief? A car-jacker? Then she smiled a very knowing, very adult smile.
“Mrs. Fairweather? Big Mike says to tell you everything’s taken care of. If you’ll drive up to the corner, Jerry will be waiting.”
Before I could thank her, she slipped away into the shadows. Good lord, I’d fallen into Oliver Twist, and Fagan had sent one of his minions with the message. Everything’s taken care of? Did I even want to know what that meant? Shaky with relief, I took a moment to calm my nerves and drove to the corner.
Jerry was indeed waiting, a messenger bag slung over one shoulder. He got into the car. He looked as puzzled as I felt.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “How’d it go?”
“Fine, I think. We did the Paw. I gave Derek time to get away. He was supposed to meet me here to finalize the deal and make sure he had enough to pay off that guy, so where is he?”
“That’s good, isn’t it? We don’t want to see him anymore.”
Jerry indicated the bag. “But he needs this money. That was the whole point of this job. What do I do with it?”
“Here’s a wild idea. You could return it to its rightful owners.”
“I can’t do that. I’ll be right back where I started. He’ll come looking for it, and he won’t be happy.”
“No.” I turned the car around. “We’re going back to Talley’s.”
Jerry looked alarmed. “Mac, what are you doing? You never go back! You’ll give the whole game away.”
“I know how to fix this. Just play along.”
Jerry was so stunned, he didn’t say anything during the short ride back to Talley’s. When we went inside, everything stopped, exactly like an old Western movie when the new sheriff steps into the saloon. Everyone stared at Jerry and not in a friendly way. Several men got up from their seats, and instead of six-shooters, reached for their cell phones.
One man approached us ready for a fight. “What the hell is going on? Where’s our money? You’ve got two seconds to explain, or I’m calling the police.”
I took out my private investigator’s license. “If I could have your attention, please. My name is Madeline Maclin, and this is my partner, Jerry Fairweather.” Jerry winced at the mention of his real name. “I’m a private investigator, and we’ve been tracking a swindler named Double-Dealing Derek for months now. With your help, we caught him. The police have him in custody. We’re here to return your money.”
That was the magic word. Jerry plopped the wad of cash on the bar. Expressions changed from hostile to relieved. The men laughed and patted Jerry on the back.
“Man, you were convincing!”
“So the big guy was a con man? Hope he gets what’s coming.”
They insisted on buying us drinks, and Jerry, recovering quickly, regaled them with stories of our other “cases,” stories of his own escapades modified to include me as the crusading detective. We finally got away from our new friends and got into my car.
Jerry grabbed me and kissed me. “My God, Mac, you were fantastic.”
“Let’s hope I never have to do anything like that again.”
He became serious. “But I’ve got to find Derek. I’ve got to explain. He’s going to be furious, but I can’t have him showing up like some moldy mushroom every time he needs cash. What happens when we have kids? He’ll have even more leverage.”
“Jerry.”
“You’ve tried to tell me that my friends are dangerous, and up to now they’ve only been annoying. But Derek is dangerous, and I want him out of the picture forever. You won’t like it, but I’ve got to call Big Mike.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
He looked at me blankly. “Why not?”
I took my time adjusting my seat belt. If Jerry had been amazed by my act in the bar, this was going to completely blow his mind. I needed to be strapped in. “I made a deal.”
“With Derek?”
“With Big Mike.”
r /> For the second time that night, Jerry was speechless. Then he stammered. “How?”
“He gave me his number.”
“You made a deal with Big Mike?”
“Yes. Don’t say that like it’s the end of the world.”
“And he took care of Derek.”
“That’s what his henchwomen told me.”
“What??”
“Let’s go home, and I’ll explain everything.”
“Oh, no. You’re going to explain everything now.”
I told him to take a deep breath and settle down. I took a deep breath, too, not certain how he’d react to the full story. “When Big Mike came to lunch and we talked about your future as a chef, he gave me his number so I could give him a progress report.”
“He never gives anyone his number.”
“In this case, I’m glad he made an exception. I called and told him about Derek. He said he’d take care of the problem.”
Jerry was quiet for so long, I wondered if I’d made a major mistake. “Did he say anything about a favor?”
“Yes. I hope it’s a simple request, like pick up my dry cleaning, or make dinner reservations at Chez Paris.” Jerry’s strange calmness was making me uneasy. “About this favor. Am I in big trouble here?”
“No. Everything’s fine. You did what you always do, which is save the day. Thank you.”
“So you don’t think Big Mike will call in this favor?”
“Oh, he will. But if he gave you his number and came when you called, I’d say he likes you. He won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. Now please explain the henchwoman.”
“Big Mike sent a young woman to tell me Derek was out of the picture and you were waiting on the corner. Then she slipped away into the night. I wondered if Big Mike would crash his Hummer into the bar and into Derek, but that would create more attention than he’d want. What about the man Derek owed? Do we have to worry about him, too?”
“If Big Mike took care of Derek, that’s no longer an issue.”
As relieved as I was this ordeal was over, I sensed Jerry wasn’t telling me everything.
***
There was no singing in the shower Thursday morning. The water cut off. I heard drying and dressing sounds and then Jerry’s footsteps as he went down the stairs. No grape duets, no cheerful strains of Hansel and Gretel. This was curious enough to make me get up. I came in the kitchen, accepted a cup of coffee, and sat down at the table.
“You okay?”
He stirred egg and milk in a bowl. “Sure.”
“I missed the morning concert.”
He reached for the loaf of bread. “How ’bout if I make you some French toast?”
“That would be very nice.” He sopped up the egg mixture with bread and placed the slices in the frying pan. “You want to tell me what’s bothering you?”
He waited until the toast was done. “Yesterday scared the hell out of me.”
“It wasn’t the best situation, that’s true.”
Jerry gave me my plate and sat down. “Just the thought of Derek coming anywhere near the kids—” He swallowed hard. “He probably would’ve continued to use Austin and Denisha to make sure I went along with his plans. Thank God you had Big Mike’s number.” He grinned a wry grin. “Giving all that money back was tough, too.”
“You should feel light and happy you did the right thing.”
“I did the right thing when I married you, Miss Parkland.”
Jerry’s the only one who can call me that. “Never realizing you would change a beauty queen into a con artist.”
“You did an excellent job.”
“That’s because most of what I told those people was the truth.”
“That’s all you need. Mostly truth.” He refilled my coffee cup. “Now that Derek’s out of the way, you can concentrate on your real cases. How’s your investigation coming along?”
“I finally got Britney to talk to me. Eric made an embarrassing video of her and threatened to post it unless she gave him money. He’s also the father of her baby. As bad as that is, here’s more news that probably won’t surprise you. Somehow Amanda found out about this video and was also blackmailing poor Britney, even taking the girl’s allowance.”
He grimaced. “I think we’ve found our real witch.”
“And get this, Amanda is actually broke, but since she hired me, I can’t tell anyone except you.”
“I can tell.”
“Hold off on that. I want Amanda to think she’s got the upper hand. I also want to find out why Megan was in the woods the other day. She told us she took a wrong turn, but maybe she lied to us and was on her way to the site of the coven. She could’ve been there many times. Maybe she saw Eric and Britney that night.”
“Would she run to tell Amanda?”
“If I could ever find her, I’d ask her. The French toast was delicious, thanks. Are you at camp today?”
“No, Nathan only needed me for a few days to help get things up and running. After breakfast at Deely’s I can help you search for Megan.”
Another frantic phone call from Amanda interrupted our morning.
“Madeline, you need to come to the theater right now!”
“What’s the matter?”
“Chief Brenner is here, and I’m not saying another word until you get here.”
“What now?” Jerry asked me.
I took a last quick drink of coffee. I was going to need the caffeine. “Sounds like Amanda’s been accused of another crime.”
Chapter Twenty-one
On the stage of the theater, the members of the Improvement Committee stood in silence. Chief Brenner and Amanda faced each other, both with arms folded and expressions grim.
“There you are, Madeline. May I proceed, Ms. Price?”
“Yes. I want her to hear all this.”
“What’s going on?” I asked.
I’d never seen the chief look so annoyed. “Got a call from one of Joanie Raines’ neighbors a short while ago. Said he heard groaning from inside the house, so we went in and found Ms. Raines on the floor. She’d been hit over the head with a blunt object. I’d like to know where Amanda Price has been this morning, but she refused to tell me anything until you arrived. Believe me, I want to arrest her for obstructing justice.”
“Is Joanie all right?”
He spared me one more brief glance before turning his stare back to Amanda. “Doctors say it’s a concussion. She’ll be okay.”
Amanda puffed up with indignation. “I’ve been right here. You can ask any of these women. We came in early to get some work done.”
“I understand there’s been a lot of ill will between you and Ms. Raines lately,” the chief said.
“I certainly wouldn’t sneak into her house and hit her! I plan to crush her dreams of playing Emmaline Ross by having the far better production.”
“I see. Can you ladies vouch for Ms. Price? Has she been here all morning?”
The committee members assured him Amanda had been with them. She smiled a tight, satisfied smile.
“You see? Don’t you have better things to do than harass me?”
“I’m doing my job, Ms. Price. Thank you for your cooperation.”
Ignoring the chief’s sarcasm, Amanda turned to her committee with a flurry of orders.
I followed Chief Brenner out. “Was this a robbery?”
“Nope. Not a frill out of place. Somebody meant to give Joanie a smack on the head, and whoever it was, he or she succeeded.” He looked back at Amanda. “Wouldn’t put it past her to put out a hit on the woman.”
I knew better than to ask if I could have a look in Joanie’s house.
I called the hospital, but Joanie wasn’t able to have visitors or talk to anyone on the phone yet. Hit over the head with a blunt
object, like Harold. Would Megan have had time to get to town and attack Joanie? Would she have been that upset over Rossboro horning in on the Emmaline story? Just where was Megan, anyway?
***
I considered going back to Peaceful Meadow, but I was sidetracked by a phone call from Dr. Wallace’s office. Test results had come in, and the doctor wanted to talk to me. Seized with a strange dread that went from my toes to my throat, I said I could come right now.
My dread was replaced with extreme surprise when I found Megan Underwood sitting in the waiting room, rooting through her oversized fringed bag.
“Why, hello, Megan. What brings you here? Nothing serious, I hope.”
She looked up and smiled her little half-smile. “My friend from the forest. So nice to see you again. I appreciate your concern, but I’m merely here to leave some medicinal herbs. You’re not ill, I trust?”
“Checking on test results.” I gave her a critical look, but there were no incriminating blood stains on her blouse to prove she’d whacked poor Joanie on the head, and no dragon’s head walking stick, which I found suspicious. “Actually, I want to talk to you. Did you know Joanie Raines had been attacked in her home?”
She looked genuinely appalled. “My goodness. Such a sad world we live in today. Is she going to be all right?”
“I think so. Do you need a ride somewhere?”
“That’s very kind, but I have the truck.”
“The truck?”
“From the goat farm. I’m picking up feed today.”
So that’s how she got around. “Do you often run errands for the farm?”
“Whenever I can. Those dear little animals depend on me.” She stood, gathering her skirt and shawl and numerous scarves around her. “I’d better take care of that right away. I hope Joanie Raines has a speedy recovery.”
I watched her from the window of the doctor’s office. She got into the dented dirty white pickup and drove away. The walking stick was probably in the truck. If I’d known, I could’ve had a look at it before I came in. I turned to go and saw that Megan had left her shoulder bag under her chair.
Time for a quick peek inside.