Harley Rushes In (Book 2 of the Blue Suede Mysteries)

by Brown, Virginia

  “You know me so well. Yes. That’s exactly what I’m doing. Will blunt work?”

  Mike said something nasty, then made a huffing sound. “It might. Depends on what you want to know. You get one question.”

  “Who do the police think killed Harry and Julio if they don’t think Aunt Darcy did it?”

  “Again, you’ll have to ask Baroni that question.”

  “Bobby just yells at me lately. He can be very testy. Okay, I have another question—”

  “Sorry. Only one question allowed.”

  “But you didn’t answer it!”

  “Yes, I did. You just didn’t like the answer.”

  “This is an unattractive side of your personality, you know.”

  He laughed. “You’re assuming I have a two-sided personality.”

  “Maybe I’m wrong. Okay, gotta go now.”

  “Wait—Harley, I know better than to ask you to promise not to do anything but stay home where you’re safe, but do us all a favor and let the police handle this. They’re better at it than you.”

  “That’s true. But I have certain advantages they don’t.”

  “I’m scared to ask.”

  “I don’t need pesky things like search warrants.”

  “Harley, that’s called breaking and entering.”

  “Not if you’re invited inside.”

  Morgan made a strange noise, and before he could ask what she had in mind, she said a quick good-bye and hung up. She had things to do. Places to go. People to see.

  After a shower and change of clothes, she left a note for Cami telling her that she’d be back later and that she’d borrowed some of her clothes, then revved up her bike and coasted down the driveway. It was a sunny day, washed clean by rain the night before, one of those nice late spring days Memphis boasted of in travel brochures.

  The trip to Atoka didn’t seem as long this time. And she had her Mace ready in case she ran into Gladys again, though she rather hoped she didn’t have to pepper spray a goose. It didn’t seem very fair, somehow.

  There was an extra car in the driveway when she arrived. Harley slowed before she ended up blundering into a situation she wouldn’t like. It was a blue Mustang with Missouri plates, new and shiny. It didn’t seem likely that it’d be José, so she parked her bike on the strip between the ruts where it wasn’t as muddy, and hung her helmet off the handlebars. Mace and phone at the ready, she approached the mobile home. Like last time, the dogs didn’t bark and hardly raised their heads to acknowledge her arrival, and fortunately, there was no sign of a goose lurking on the porch.

  Voices came from inside, a little loud at times, and she paused before interrupting.

  “You know where she is,” a man snarled, sounding menacing, “and you better tell me!”

  “I swear I don’t,” came the reply, and Harley recognized Anna Merritt’s voice. “She never tells me where she’s staying. I haven’t even heard from her lately. I swear it!”

  When it seemed like he was going to get even more threatening, Harley rapped loudly on the door. A distraction might help, and, after all, she had her Mace handy. After a moment, Anna appeared in the doorway. She looked a little relieved to see Harley.

  “It’s you again,” she said, but didn’t sound too unfriendly. “What do you want?”

  “I have a few things to talk over with you. Mind if I come in?”

  “Well . . . ” Anna glanced over her shoulder. “I have company right now, but maybe you can come back later.”

  “No, I really need to talk to you now. It won’t take long. I can just sit out here on the porch until you’re free, if you prefer.”

  “That’s all right.” Anna unlocked the storm door and swung it open. “Come in.”

  Harley gave her small Mace canister a good shake just in case, and kept it in her palm as she went inside. A rather large man stood in the center of the living room. His head nearly touched the wooden beam that ran the length of the ceiling. He had gray hair, blue eyes, and an unpleasant expression.

  “Hello,” she chirped, eying him as closely as he was watching her, “how are you?” Not that she really wanted to know. It was just something to say while she tried to gauge the tension level.

  Ignoring her, he turned to Anna. “I’ll be back later.”

  “Oh, don’t let me run you off,” Harley said. “I just came by to chat for a few minutes. Are you the brother, Bernard Plotz?”

  It wasn’t that she thought he was, just a shot in the dark, but after a brief hesitation, he said, “Yes. Bernie.”

  “Aha,” Harley couldn’t resist saying, “the Plotz thickens.”

  He scowled. “And you are—?”

  “Intruding on a family reunion, I see. Maybe I should just run along.”

  There was something definitely odd going on here. Anna looked tense, Bernie looked mad, and the hair on the back of Harley’s neck tightened. She didn’t need to get in the middle of a family fight, that was for sure.

  Before she could edge back to the door, Bernie moved to block her. “What are you really doing here?”

  “Well, that’s between me and Anna.”

  “And now me.” He towered over her, suddenly seeming much too large and menacing.

  Harley thought fast, then blurted, “I wanted to tell Anna that I’m supposed to meet her—your—sister in a little while. At the shop.”

  “You heard from Frieda?”

  “Well . . . kinda. I, um, bumped into her by accident. She seemed kinda scared and said to meet her today, so that’s where I’m headed. Just wanted to let Anna know she must be all right.” Harley edged the Mace lower in her palm, finger on the nozzle just in case. This guy didn’t look at all friendly. But to her relief, he pushed past her and out the door without another word. After a moment, she heard a car door slam and gravel grind as he took off down the driveway.

  Harley looked at Anna, who sagged onto a chair arm and put her hands on her knees. “I don’t believe Frieda told you anything,” she said, and Harley shrugged.

  “Well, she did push me into a glass case. Rather strong upper body. Does she work out?”

  Anna didn’t say anything, just looked at her, and Harley smiled. “They’re both involved in the smuggling, aren’t they?” When she shook her head, Harley said, “Yes they are, and you’re probably just as mixed up in it as your sister. You know all about everything.”

  Anna stood up. “No. But if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. It’s time for you to go.”

  “All right, but one more thing—have you looked in the ivory box that Frieda gave you?”

  “Why?”

  “Because it probably contains what your brother wants. He’s looking for Frieda, right? I don’t think it’s for a family reunion. He’s one of the smugglers. Maybe a courier. He has to want the list of stuff, to find out where it went, or where the money is, or something like that. He didn’t act at all like the kind of guy who’s looking for his sister out of brotherly love.”

  Anna gave a short bark of laughter. “Well, you’re wrong there. Look, I don’t know what to tell you, just what not to tell you. Please go. If he realizes you lied, he’s liable to come back, and I don’t think you’d like what he’d do next.”

  “Aren’t you afraid for your sister?”

  “She has better sense than to hang around the shop where . . . Harry was killed. I doubt she’s even in Memphis any longer.”

  “Unless she has a reason to be here—like lots of money?”

  Anna pressed her lips tightly together, and Harley recognized that she’d said all she was going to say. After an awkward moment, she told Anna to call if she changed her mind and gave her another card that’d probably be thrown away. She eased out the door, half-expecting to be attacked from some angle.

  Thankfully, there was no sign of Gladys the goose. Their one encounter had left a lasting impression, and she was in no hurry for a repeat.

  As soon as she got out on the main highway, Harley pulled over into the parking lot
of an old country store and gas station. She unfastened her helmet and hung it from the handlebars, and still straddling the bike, called Bobby.

  He didn’t sound very pleased to hear from her. “All I asked was that you stay home and out of harm’s way, Harley, and you can’t even do that. What’s the matter with you?”

  “Do you want this information or not? It’s important, but suit yourself.”

  Bobby said something tacky, then said, “Okay, tell me the information that you think’s so important.”

  “I shouldn’t since you’re being so hateful, but I thought you might want to know that one of the smugglers is on his way to the design shop at this very moment. He thinks he’s going to meet Cheríe Saucier there. He’s very insistent on speaking with her. I’m sure it has something to do with the smuggled goods and money. Oh, and he—”

  “Harley, whatever you do, do not follow him. Do you hear me? Stay away from your aunt’s shop. That guy’s dangerous. I’ll have to radio a unit to make sure no one there gets hurt.”

  A little irritated, she said, “It’s not open today. The insurance company has to come in and do their inspection before they can even make repairs.”

  “Did you stop to think what might happen if Cheríe really is there?”

  She hadn’t, of course. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’d put my money on Cheríe. She’s got the upper body strength of a Lowland gorilla.”

  “Harley, dammit—!”

  “Oh, she won’t show back up there. It’d be stupid. Besides, Bernie’s her brother, and he’s just after Cheríe because she has something he wants.”

  “Harley—”

  “I don’t know why you think I’m stupid. Maybe I get a little too enthusiastic at times, but I know better than to follow a killer. Past activities not counting. Do you think he’s the one who killed Harry Gordon and Julio?”

  “Harley—”

  “After all I’ve done for you today, sending him where you can find him, you can at least let me know what happens. You have my aunt in protective custody, and—”

  “Not anymore. Her parents’ lawyer sprung her a couple of hours ago.”

  That wasn’t really good news. Not with some deranged smuggler desperate to find where the goods and/or money had been hidden. Damn, she thought.

  “Look, Bobby, I know I’ve told you this before, but I really think that ivory chest is important. Harry had it, and now Anna has it,

  and—”

  ”Go home, Harley. Let us handle this. Believe it or not, we’ve already got a pretty good idea of who he is and what to do. Just go home.”

  “Does Aunt Darcy know this guy is on the loose?”

  “Where are you, Harley? I’ll send a unit to escort you safely home.”

  “Aren’t you sweet. I’ll be just fine. You’d better hurry, or you’ll miss Bernie. He’s most likely already at the shop.”

  She hung up before he could say anything else, and dialed her aunt’s house. Amanda answered.

  “Mandy, whatever you do, don’t let anyone into the house.”

  “Harley? Is that you? You have some nerve, calling here after all the trouble you’ve caused us. If it wasn’t for you poking your nose where it doesn’t belong, everything would be a lot better.”

  “You’re right. Look, listen to me. It’s vital that you do not let anyone into the house that you don’t know, and I don’t care who he says he is. Do you understand? There’s a killer on the loose and you could be his next target.”

  “I’m tired of your tricks, Harley. Don’t call here again.” Amanda hung up.

  “Damn,” said Harley, and tried the number again. This time, the answering machine picked up. They had Caller ID, of course. It could be a real nuisance.

  There was no answer on Darcy’s cell phone either, and she left a message just in case she decided to go by the shop. Surely, after just getting out of jail, that wouldn’t be her first stop, but there was no telling what she was liable to do. It had seemed like such a good idea to send Bernie off on a wild goose chase, but in retrospect, maybe it hadn’t been so smart. Like most of her good ideas lately, they too often turned out to be really bad.

  Harley called Grandmother Eaton on the off-chance that Darcy had stopped by on her way home, but Janet answered and said her grandparents were out for the day.

  “Did they say where they were going?” Harley asked.

  “To an art show and wine tasting, I believe.”

  “An art show? Are you sure that’s where they are?”

  “That’s what they said. Shall I give them a message, Miss Harley?”

  An art show—no doubt, that was Grandmother Eaton’s polite term for bailing their youngest daughter out of jail. “No, just ask them to call me when they get back, please.”

  For several minutes she sat in the shade of a huge pecan tree that draped over part of the gravel parking lot, considering her options. Bobby was right. She should go home and stay out of it. Being stupid and getting in the way would only make things worse.

  She put on her helmet and started the bike with a push of her thumb. The smooth throb of the engine was always satisfying. Riding her bike, she always felt powerful, as if nothing could harm her. Except, of course, for the Memphis drivers that never seemed to watch for motorcycles or the daring and foolish pedestrians crossing the street.

  She meant to go home where it’d be safe and she wouldn’t cause any more problems. She really did. But somehow, she found herself headed out east to the Fontaine residence instead. It’d only take a minute to warn her aunt and pigheaded cousins to stay in their house, then she’d go home.

  That was the plan, all right.

  Fourteen

  “Look, Harley, I told you—”

  “Amanda, this is important.” Ignoring her efforts to block the doorway, Harley stepped into the entrance hall. “Where’s Aunt Darcy?”

  “None of your business. Haven’t you done enough damage?”

  “You don’t blame me for her arrest, do you?”

  “If not for you, most of this wouldn’t have happened.”

  Harley stared at her. “You can’t believe that. Aunt Darcy asked me to help her find out if Harry was smuggling in illegal imports, but neither of us expected him to get murdered.”

  Angry tears welled in Amanda’s eyes. “Harry wouldn’t be dead if you hadn’t started your meddling. I just know it.”

  “So this is about Harry, not your mother, then.” Harley tilted her head to one side, eyes narrowed a bit. “You’re not that selfish, are you?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Good. I was hoping you weren’t making this about you instead of Aunt Darcy. Now where is she? I came here to warn her that the guy who killed Harry might come after her. That was what I was trying to tell you on the phone, but you wouldn’t listen.”

  Amanda’s eyes had gotten larger. “She’s not here.”

  Harley got an ache in the pit of her stomach. “Tell me she’s not at the shop.”

  “She said there was something there she needed. Oh God, Harley, do you think—?”

  Instead of answering, Harley pulled out her cell phone and dialed Bobby. He didn’t answer and she left a message. Damn. He was never there when she needed him most. Maybe he was already at the shop. She hoped. She tried Darcy’s cell phone again, but no answer. Damn.

  When she dialed Morgan, he picked up on the second ring. “Yeah.”

  “Hey, I need you.”

  “If this is a booty call, I’m a little busy right now, but I’ll be glad to come by later.”

  “How thoughtful, but I have a different kind of problem. I can’t reach Bobby and I think my aunt’s in trouble.”

  Morgan quickly became all business. She gave him a brief summary of her suspicions, and he told her to stay where she was, and he’d make sure Baroni got a unit to the shop.

  “You’ll stay there, right, Harley?”

  “Wild horses couldn’t drag me away, I promise.”

  She
was shivering by now, more with anticipation than actual fear. When she looked at her cousin, Amanda was bug-eyed and huddled in misery on the edge of a bench in the hall.

  “Where’s Madelyn?” Harley asked.

  “Playing tennis with Trey.”

  “Good lord. I’ve never known her to actually exercise before. She must really like him.”

  “I guess. Harley, what’s going on?”

  “Get Madelyn in here and I’ll tell you what I know, which isn’t much.”

  She waited in the kitchen. Aunt Darcy’s pretty, pickled-wood cabinets had taken expert finishers weeks to achieve a subtle blend of weathered streaks to match the tiles on the walls and white-oak floors. A bay window with stained glass panes reflecting rainbows of light looked out on fountains and gardens beyond French doors. Everything gleamed bright and shiny and expensive, and she thought of Diva’s kitchen with its cluttered counters and dreamcatchers and how much more welcoming it seemed. Money definitely wasn’t everything.

  Just as she was deciding that Darcy Fontaine must have unrecognized talents, Amanda burst back into the kitchen with Madelyn in tow.

  “Where’s Trey?” Harley asked.

  “He, uh, went home.” Madelyn looked out of breath, hair disheveled, lips slightly swollen and eyes still a bit glazed. Harley smiled.

  “Must have been some tennis game.”

  Madelyn lifted a brow. “It was.”

  “Well, we could stand here all day and discuss your love match—pun intended—but I’d rather make sure that you two understand what I’m trying to tell you. Harry’s killer is still on the loose and I have info that he might end up here. Where’s Uncle Paul?”

  They exchanged a look, but finally Amanda said, “Mama and Daddy are separated. It’s only a trial separation, but he’s . . . he’s not living here anymore.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. That’s got to be hard on all of you.” There didn’t seem to be anything else to say about that so she moved on. “Make sure all the doors and windows are locked. And keep trying to get Darcy on her cell phone.”