by Jana DeLeon
“Because it’s true? What’s with the shoes?”
“You think I know? I was lying there in that heap of shrimp, sequins, and feathers and thinking ‘I wish I were lighter on my feet’ and these things appeared.”
“Can you walk in them?”
“Yeah, but not well. This street is bumpy. Hurts my corns.”
Taylor opened her mouth to ask how in God’s name a ghost could have corns, but decided the answer wasn’t even worth it. “Well, walk as fast as you can. I need you to go into a house and see if you can find out anything about the diamonds.”
Helena pushed herself up from the curb and started up the street, moving as if she were walking on hot coals. When she picked up speed, it was an even worse spectacle, but at least she was moving faster.
Taylor wrinkled her nose as a gust of wind hit Helena. “Why is it that you can hold smell? That isn’t right on so many different levels.”
“How should I know? You were supposed to be figuring all this out for me.”
“No, we were supposed to be figuring it out together.”
“Well, we’re doing a bang-up job so far what with the potential murder charges.”
Low blow.
Taylor stopped across the street from the house and pointed. “Just get in there and see if you can find out anything. I’ll wait for you back on the corner.”
“Who lives there?”
“A guy who did time for fencing stolen jewels. Recently released from prison.”
“You want me to go in there with a prisoner?”
“He can’t see you!”
“He can probably smell me.”
“Then that’s just an added bonus he deserves. This guy is going to get Neely Kate sent down the river for murder. Do you want that to happen?”
Helena sighed. “Fine.”
Taylor watched as she did her strange walk across the street and through the wall of the house. She headed back for the corner and leaned against the street sign post, trying not to stare at the fencer’s house. This entire mess had hit her like a ton of bricks. She wasn’t used to being a suspect, and she didn’t like it one bit. Nor did she relish the thought of Savoy’s railroading Neely Kate for another feather in his cap.
The entire thing had her edgier than usual…more reactive and impatient. She needed to remind herself to relax and concentrate on this case as if it were any other job she’d been hired to do. It was easy to say, but so much harder to do when it was personal. Like right now. She checked her watch for the tenth time in as many minutes and hoped Helena had been inside the house so long because she’d uncovered information they could use, and not a serving tray of food.
She pulled out her cell phone, frustrated with herself for not using the time to make a phone call to her friend at the employment commission. This was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid—losing focus.
“This is Dot,” her friend answered on the first ring.
“Hi Dot. It’s Taylor.”
“Taylor! How the heck are you? I haven’t heard from you in a coon’s age.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been busy with the agency and a special project I’m working on, and I’ve dropped everything and everyone else. I promise it’s not personal.”
“Oh, I’d never think that, honey. You’re darn near the only considerate person I know.”
“I might change your mind here in a second, because I’m calling for a favor. One of those favors you’re not supposed to do in your official capacity.”
“What’s wrong? I know you, Taylor Beaumont, and you never ask for things like this unless it’s dire.”
“I’m sorta wrapped up in a murder investigation.”
“You trying to clear someone innocent, like that Jimmy you helped before?”
“No. I’m trying to clear myself.”
“Good Lord! My heart’s beating like a drum. I won’t even ask for the details because I know you won’t give them and they’ll likely stress me more. Just tell me what I can do for you.”
“I want to know who works at Madame Serafine’s Voodoo House.”
“Sure, give me a second. It looks like she has two employees, Gina Miller and Robbie Calloway. Looks like Robbie is sixteen and only works some weekend hours. Gina is full-time.”
At sixteen and minimal weekend hours, that put Robbie out of the running for involvement in high crimes. Not that she hadn’t encountered highly accomplished sixteen-year-old criminals, but he didn’t have enough access to guarantee handling a smuggling operation.
“What’s Gina’s work history?” Taylor asked.
“Looks like she’s been at the shop for six months and before that…hmmm.”
“What?”
“I don’t have any work history for her prior to the shop. Could be she’s a transplant.”
“Could be,” Taylor said. “Thanks for the information. I really appreciate it.”
“You be careful. And please let me know when you get this fixed. I’m going to worry until I know you’re safe.”
“I promise.”
Taylor slipped the phone back in her pocket. Gina might be a transplant, but since she was the only employee with the ability to handle the diamond smuggling from the shop, it was more likely her entire identity was a fake.
She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and glanced over to see Helena hobbling toward her. The ghost looked to be in so much pain that if it had been ordinary circumstances, with an ordinary body, Taylor would have offered her a piggyback ride. Instead, she had to wait, rather impatiently, for Helena to make it the half block before dropping onto the curb.
“Did you hear anything?”
Helena nodded and held up one finger. She took a couple deep breaths and then grabbed her foot and started massaging it. “I hope I can change shoes soon. This is awful on the feet and the lungs.”
Taylor struggled to control her impatience. “The jeweler? Anything?”
“Oh yeah. His phone rang when I walked in and he told someone it failed. I heard yelling—mostly cussing—from whoever he was talking to, but that’s it. Then the jeweler said he had the funds from the first trade and they needed to settle.”
“That means there must have been more bags with diamonds in the shipment. Arden fenced what was there and whoever he’s working with is the one looking for the missing bag that you stole.”
“Which makes the other guy the murderer, right?”
“Probably so.”
Helena blew out a breath of relief. “At least I wasn’t holed up with a murderer.”
Taylor didn’t even bother pointing out that neither Arden nor the murderer could have seen her anyway. Once Helena’s mind latched onto something, it was all over but the absurdity. “What else did he say?”
“Arden asked why he couldn’t send the courier to collect. The only thing I could hear the murderer say was ‘compromised.’”
Taylor nodded. “The courier is probably the guy who broke into Rose and Neely Kate’s room and stole Neely Kate’s purse. The murderer must think he’s had too much visibility to do another job.”
“Then Arden said ‘the theater?’ and ‘I know you can’t risk coming here but why in public?’ Then he said ‘Fine, I have a gray wool coat with a red scarf.’ Then the murderer talked for a while and Arden hung up the phone.”
“The theater? He didn’t say which one?”
Helena nodded. “He said ‘I hate Wicked’ after he hung up.”
Taylor’s pulse shot up a bit. “This is great. We know where he’s going to make the drop. That means we can tail him and find out who the murderer is, take pictures, and turn the whole shooting match over to Savoy on a silver platter.”
“Just the way he likes it.”
“Oh yeah,” Taylor said and shook her head.
A fake ID that passed scrutiny, purse snatchers who knew how to enter a locked hotel room while avoiding the security feed, Arden James, and a public drop of money. It had all the calculation and pla
nning of a highly professional job.
So why risk it all by killing Madame Serafine? Either the murderer answered to someone worse than himself, or he was arrogant enough to think he’d never be discovered.
He was dead wrong.
And Taylor was going to prove that tonight.
“I have even better information…if you want it.”
“What?”
Helena grinned. “I know how Arden is going to give the murderer the money.”
“How?”
“After he got off the phone, he went to his bedroom closet and took out the coat he mentioned earlier. Then he took several envelopes of money out of his dresser and shoved them into the lining. It has this hidden zipper in the side.”
Taylor couldn’t control her excitement. “We’ve got him.”
“Damn straight.”
Chapter Fourteen
Once Rose and Neely Kate were several blocks from Madame Serafine’s shop, Rose asked for Neely Kate’s phone. “I want to call Taylor.”
Neely Kate dug it out of her jeans pocket. “What if she’s in the middle of something?”
“I think this is important enough to bother her.”
Taylor answered on the second ring, sounding worried when she answered. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes and no,” Rose said, then continued before Taylor could ask questions. “The housekeeping staff had discovered the break-in by the time we got back and they had called the police.”
“That’s a good thing. Did you tell them Neely Kate’s purse was stolen, too?”
“We never got a chance.” Rose paused. “Detective Savoy was with the officers who showed up.”
“Oh, crap,” Taylor muttered. “What happened?”
“He doesn’t believe for a minute that our room was broken into. In fact, after he left, he pretty much told the officers not to waste their time lookin’ for evidence.”
“What did he tell you?”
Rose moved next to a building to get out of the way of the busy sidewalk traffic, dragging Neely Kate with her. “He thinks we staged the break-in.”
Taylor groaned. “To try to take the heat off of you two?”
“Exactly. Only we messed up.”
“What happened?”
“He got me riled up and I told asked him how could he accuse a tiny thing like Neely Kate of torturin’ someone, then Neely Kate added she wouldn’t torture someone for fifty dollars.”
Taylor was silent for a moment. “And only someone with inside info—or the perpetrator of the crime—would know that.”
“Exactly.”
“Damn.”
“But there’s more,” Rose said.
Taylor blew out a loud breath. “After your last news, I’m afraid to hear it.”
“This is actually good news. After we realized Savoy is railroadin’ us, we took off for Madame Serafine’s shop.”
“Why would you girls do something so risky?”
Rose snorted. “Please, this was nothin’ for us. Just last week I was undercover in a strip joint tryin’ to find Neely Kate’s missin’ cousin.”
Taylor was remarkably quiet, and Rose figured she was in shock.
“So anyway, Gina—the purple-haired girl—was in the shop, but crime scene tape was still across the front door so we figured she wasn’t supposed to be there. We slipped around to the alley and through the back door. When we got inside, Gina was on the phone.”
“Could you hear what she said?”
“Yeah, we heard enough to know she’s involved.”
“After my information from the employment commission, I suspected as much,” Taylor said.
“Gina said she had been lookin’ for the second bag everywhere but couldn’t find it. She said she wasn’t stupid enough to take it herself.”
“Unless she wants to end up dead. These people are professionals and aren’t to be messed with.”
“She pretty much said that, but there was something else. She said as soon as they found the other bag, she was out, and he had to keep his promise. What do you think that means?”
“Maybe she didn’t want to be involved in the first place, or could be she’s got cold feet because Serafine was murdered. I don’t think that was the original plan.”
“That makes sense. There’s one more thing.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask at this point.”
“She said as soon as the murder was pinned on ‘those girls and that PI’ she was leaving town. Savoy must have told her he’s after us when she was down at the station. I get Neely Kate…and me by default of being her friend, but why is he workin’ so hard to get you involved?”
“I saved a friend from being railroaded in one of his trumped-up cases. Obviously, he’s holding a grudge. Damn it. Since Gina’s involved, God only knows what false information she’s fed Savoy to direct attention away from herself.”
“I hadn’t even thought about that, but I bet you’re right. She’s probably made us out to be crazies, foamin’ at the mouth and all.”
“I’m sure of it. So we’re working on borrowed time.”
“Looks like it,” Rose said, her voice breaking. Her heart had begun to race, and she tried to catch her breath. She’d taken all of this in stride, but now it was hitting home. Maybe it really was time to call Mason.
“Listen, I have some solid leads of my own.” Taylor recapped everything that had transpired since she’d last talked to Neely Kate. “So Arden James is making a drop at the theater. During the performance of Wicked.”
Rose gasped. “Neely Kate and I have tickets to see Wicked tonight.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. Mason bought them for Neely Kate and me as part of my early Christmas gift. That’s why we’re in New Orleans.”
“I’m going to need one of those tickets,” Taylor said.
Rose’s ire rose. “No way. Neely Kate and I are goin’ to that play. We’re part of this and we’re not sittin’ in our hotel room waiting for Detective Savoy to show up and arrest us. We wouldn’t do that at home and we’re sure not doin’ it here.”
Neely Kate nodded her agreement.
“While I appreciate the can-do spirit, Rose, you need to leave this to a trained professional.”
“Neely Kate and I may not have a fancy license, but between the two of us, we’ve solved more cases in six months than the Henryetta Police Department has in the last two years.” Of course, that wasn’t saying much, but no need telling Taylor that. “I’ve discovered the identity of three killers, figured out who robbed the Henryetta bank, killed a hardened criminal who chased me through the woods for two days, and helped guarantee the installment of the current Fenton County crime lord. I’m not the fragile flower you think I am.”
Taylor was silent for several seconds. “Okay. You’re in. But maybe Neely Kate should sit this one out. She is pregnant, after all.”
“No way. I’ll be worried sick that Savoy will arrest her while I’m at the play. She goes, but I’ll make her sit in her seat and not get involved.”
“Well, okay,” Taylor said, sounding as though she was adjusting to Rose’s demands. “I guess I need to buy a ticket to Wicked.” She paused, then released a groan. “No, Helena. I don’t need to buy two tickets. You don’t need one.”
“So once we get to the theater, what’s the plan?”
“Thanks to Helena, we know James is wearing a gray wool coat with a red scarf. If I can find him, Helena and I can trail him and catch him in the act of the drop-off.”
“So let’s meet in the theater lobby,” Rose said.
“No. The less we’re seen together the better. I’ll show up early and try to scope things out. Text me once you girls are there. We’ll figure out where to go from there.”
“Sounds good.”
Neely Kate waved her hand in front of Rose’s face. “Ask Taylor what Helena is wearin’ tonight.”
Rose’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I’m not askin’ Taylor what a ghost is
wearin’ to the play. What does it matter? No one can see her.”
“I can see her and so can Taylor. I want to coordinate our outfits.”
Taylor coughed. “Did I just hear Neely Kate say she wants to coordinate her outfit with Helena’s?” Taylor groaned. “No, Helena…fine.” Taylor sounded pained. “Helena says she’ll try to match Neely Kate.”
Rose relayed the information and Neely Kate broke into a huge smile. “I’m gonna wear my red dress with black shoes and white scarf with green Christmas trees. I want to look festive.”
“She says—” Rose started.
“I heard her,” Taylor said in a dry tone. “I’ll pass it on to Helena. Rose, you should thank the heaven above that you’ll be spared the pain of the big fashion reveal.”
“As long as I’m there for the big bad-guy reveal, I can live with it.”
“Rose,” Taylor said hesitantly. “I know you are desperate to clear your and Neely Kate’s names, but don’t do anything too risky tonight.”
Rose’s eyebrows rose in mock innocence as she shot Neely Kate an ornery grin. “Do somethin’ risky? I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Are you sure this is going to work?” Helena asked as Taylor stuffed a red scarf in the pocket of the gray jacket she’d picked up at the resale shop an hour earlier.
“No. I’m not sure about anything, but I can’t think of a better idea. Can you?” Taylor’s plan was to locate Arden and get the pictures, but if she had a chance to switch the jackets, she was going to take it.
Helena scrunched her brow for several seconds, then shook her head. “I got nothing.”
“Then this is the plan. If it doesn’t work, I’ll have you start practicing smuggling nail files.”
“You never do your nails. Why would I need to carry around a file?” Then her eyes widened. “Oh, it’s a prison break joke. Hey, what happens if we get all the evidence? That Savoy is a jerk. He might bury it instead of finding the real murderer.”
“I’ve already considered that, and I have a backup plan. I did some poking around the New Orleans PD gossip this afternoon and got the name of the other detective in the running for the promotion Savoy is gunning for. The gossip says that no one likes Savoy.”