Both Coop and I looked out the window to see two police cars and a black sedan, like the one Detective Primrose drove, screech to a halt beside Betty’s.
Two men dressed in dark suits burst through the café door, with Detective Primrose hot on their heels. “Slow down, you baboons! Stop rushing around as though you’ve found bloody Jack The Ripper! I have heels on today, you heathens,” she complained, skidding to a halt behind the tallest of the two men.
“That’s the detective who questioned me,” Coop whispered, shrinking in her seat.
I grabbed her hand to soothe her as Detective Primrose pushed them aside and threaded her way through the tables, her blonde hair vivid against the red walls of the café.
The two men behind her almost bumped into her back when she stopped short at Higgs’s table, making her angry. She whirled around and held up a hand with a very stern gaze on her face. “Back up, Eager Beavers. I said I’d handle this, didn’t I? Now go play like nice boys over in the corner and wait until Mummy’s done.”
They both gave her a sheepish glance before skulking their way to the far corner, where they leaned into the wall, dwarfing the pictures behind them. And then Detective Primrose reached out a hand to Higgs, patting him on the back.
“I think you know I hate to do this, right, love?” she asked, her voice gravelly and chock full of emotion.
Higgs swiveled his upper body in his chair and looked up at her, his handsome face full of suspicion. “Do what, Tansy?”
Then she did something so peculiar. She reached for his arm, his forearm covered in that intricate sleeve tattoo, and she pointed to a spot on the underside of his wrist. “This, Higgs. This tattoo.”
My eyes widened. They weren’t so far away I couldn’t see there was something there. I just didn’t know exactly what. The colors were a blur.
“What about my tattoos?”
“No, no, bloke. Not plural as in tattoos. This tattoo.” She pointed again to something I couldn’t see before she let his arm go. Then she closed her eyes and swallowed hard. I watched her throat work up and down, before she popped them open and stared down at him, her jaw tight. “Cross Higglesworth, you’re under arrest for the murder of Fergus McDuff—”
But he jumped up and backed away, cutting off her words. “You can’t be serious, Tansy. You know me. You know I’d never kill anyone without—” He stopped then, his eyes going hard and his lips going thin.
He’d never kill anyone without what? A reason?
I sat there flabbergasted as Tansy and Higgs stared one another down and the two detectives let their hands rest in the vicinity of their guns.
But it was Coop who shocked us all when she exploded out of the booth, climbing over the back of it, her long legs hurdling the backrest as though it were nothing, her feet slapping the concrete floor with a loud clap.
And yelling.
Coop was yelling. Yell-ing.
“Unhand him now! Cross Higglesworth is not a murderer!”
Chapter 10
Things got a little hinky after that. Okay, a lot hinky. Is hinky the right word here? I don’t know. I do know it went from intense to complete anarchy in two shakes flat.
Coop threw a punch at one of the police officers, thwarted only by my big mouth when I screamed at her and the detective’s quick reflexes.
One of the detectives grabbed Coop by the arm and swung her around, pushing her up against the wall so hard, I swear I heard a bone crack.
Thankfully and blessed mother, she didn’t fight back. The last time she’d done that, in Ebenezer Falls when she’d felt as though Stevie was threatened, the detective had landed on the floor across the room and ended up with a broken nose.
I rushed over, ducking under the detective’s arm, ignoring everything but her, and whispered, “Coop! Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Her nostrils flared, but it was the only sign she felt anything at all other than the tic in her jaw, which was clenched tight. “He can’t hurt me, Trixie,” she responded. “I’m sorry. I lost my temper. I know that’s unacceptable. You told me to fight with my words, not my fists.”
Gripping her free hand, I urged, “It’s okay. We’ll talk about it later, but please, don’t fight. Please. I’m begging you. Do what they say and it will be all right. I’ll make sure it’s all right,” I whispered fiercely.
Her breathing was labored and shallow, her nostrils flaring, but she gave me a stiff nod. “Cross didn’t do this, Trixie. Mark my words. I know what my gut is used for now, and it’s just like Stevie said. I know he didn’t do it in my gut.”
Then, apparently because I wasn’t listening to the detective holding Coop squawking in my ear, the other one approached, the scent of his heavy, cheap cologne stinging my nose he was so close. He yanked me away from Coop with a hard jerk of my arm.
“Lady, I’m tellin’ ya, back up! You’re interfering with a police matter. Step back!” He barked the order, and I did as I was told because I’d been here before.
But I wanted to sock him in his smug face. Yes, I did, and I didn’t feel at all bad about that.
Yet, I knew enough to know I’d land in jail right along with her, and we needed someone who was free to handle her release. All the while, I wondered what the heck had inspired Coop to make such a bold statement (I still had trouble believing she’d yelled, using real emotion. That was usually reserved for when she was angry, and even then, it was a war cry), and what the tattoo on Higgs’s wrist had to do with everything.
But Higgs didn’t fight, either. In fact, now he held out his hands and let Detective Primrose cuff him quite peacefully while Jay watched in clear horror.
That everyone was calm did nothing for a frantic Jay. He rocked back and forth from foot to foot, blocking the detective from taking Higgs out the door while the smattering of patrons in the café looked on in silent fear.
“Tansy!” he yelled, his eyes wide, his hands flying in the air. “This is crazy! You know it’s crazy. You’ve been friends for years. How could you do this?”
But she looked him directly in the eye, her stare hard. “Jay. I have to ask you to step aside, please. Do not interfere with police business,” she said, unflinching, her British accent especially distinct.
“Tansy!” he cried once more. “This is madness. Higgs is no killer. How could you even consider—”
“Jay!” Higgs barked. “Stop. Let her take me in. She’ll see this is crazy. But for now, she’s just doing her job. Let it be.” His words were stiff and stilted, but his eyes flashed hot and angry.
Jay didn’t appear to want to back off, so I put my hand on his arm and forced him to look at me. “Who better than Higgs to know how this should go, Jay? Listen to him. I’ll grab my car and we’ll go together to the police station, okay?”
Gosh, I remember so clearly those words when Stevie spoke them to me after Coop had been arrested. She’d sat endless hours with me at the police station, and she’d found us a lawyer.
I wanted to pay it forward, mostly because Coop believed.
But Jay remained rigidly in place, so I took a firmer stance, clutching his wrist and forcing him to look at me. “Jay! Stop this nonsense now. They’re taking him in no matter what you say. It can either be peaceful, or you can join him, and quite frankly, we need each other for support. The both of you locked up does no one at the shelter any good. Now let them go. We’ll follow right behind. I promise.”
As though a haze cleared, Jay’s eyes went from dark and stormy to focused. He inhaled and took a step back. “You’re right.” And then he looked to Higgs. “I’m right behind you, buddy. I’ll call Pensky and we’ll get this cleared up ASAP.”
Higgs nodded as he let Detective Primrose lead him out, but he stopped when he saw Coop. “Can’t you at least let her go, Tanz? She just got a little caught up.”
But Detective Primrose shook her head, her eyes somber. “I can’t. You know I can’t, mate. She tried to assault an officer.”
“It’s okay, Hig
gs,” I said to him, almost reaching out to touch his arm, but snatching my hand back before I found myself in handcuffs, too. My stomach gurgled in upheaval, but I knew I had to keep a level head. “We’ll be fine. You just take care of you. I’ll make sure Coop’s all right.”
Out of the blue, because Coop had a gut feeling, my thoughts on Higgs did a complete one-eighty. When Coop said something, when she was adamant the way she’d been when she’d yelled, I took it to heart. It wasn’t often Coop felt that way about much other than myself and Livingston, and this time, I was going to trust her.
I prayed I was doing the right thing as I watched them lead both Coop and Higgs out to separate patrol cars.
Just over the tops of the police cars lining the street, as I dug in my pocket for the keys to our worn Caddy, trying to keep my trembling fingers from losing my grip on them, I caught sight of a group of the men Higgs and Jay must house, hanging around, their weary faces full of fear, but no sign of Solomon.
Though I did see the man wearing the hat like Gilligan, and made another mental note to try to talk to him about whether he’d seen anything the day Fergus had been murdered. Maybe he’d know where Solomon was.
Gosh, on top of everything else, I couldn’t get Solomon out of my mind for worrying about him.
But now wasn’t the time. I had a demon to keep out of jail.
* * * *
I handed Jay some scalding-hot coffee from the dispenser and experienced more déjà vu. Not long ago, Stevie had offered me coffee and chips while we waited for Coop to be questioned in the murder of our prior landlord.
He took it, his hand shaking ever so slightly. “Thanks, Trixie. Thanks for sticking around. You don’t have to now that Coop’s free to go. Pensky’s here. He’ll fix this.”
Pensky was their attorney friend. Lisle Pensky. A short, chubby man with a double-breasted suit, a pinky ring, and more hair than a troll doll, but pleasant enough overall with his heavy New York accent and his fancy clothes.
Coop had somehow managed to get off with very little hassle and a big, fat warning from Detective Primrose, making me breathe a sigh of relief. We couldn’t afford an attorney—especially not like the one Stevie had hired for Coop. Maybe Higgs had said something to someone. I didn’t know how well he knew the officers here in Portland, or if he’d worked with them at one time. But maybe he had some influence. Whatever it was, Coop was free.
Now, she sat fascinated by the fish tank in the lobby, watching the colorful creatures swim back and forth while I sat with Jay and we waited to see where Higgs stood.
“What was Detective Primrose talking about? Higgs’s tattoo? I don’t get it. He has a bunch of them on both arms. What does that have to do with the murder of Fergus McDuff?”
Jay shrugged his shoulders, slinking down into one of the hard plastic chairs we sat on in the waiting area. “I don’t know either, Trixie. She pointed at a tattoo he was forced to get when he was undercover in a gang in Minneapolis. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t want me to tell you that, but I don’t see what it can hurt now. He had to do a lot of things—” He stopped short and grimaced. “That’s his story to tell, I guess. But yeah. The tattoo she pointed to was part of an initiation and forced on him, and not by any stretch of the imagination the worst part of what he went through. I can’t believe she’d arrest him. He’s legendary all over the country in every precinct for his undercover work with gangs. This is insane.”
“Forced… How awful for him,” I murmured, unsure what else to say.
Oh, my great gracious, I’d heard about the horrible things gangs did when they initiated someone into the club, but actually knowing someone who’d suffered through it made it uglier somehow.
Jay nodded his sandy head, driving his hands into his hoodie pockets. “Yep.”
I craned my neck in his direction and rubbed my arms, goose bumps running along their lengths. “And what’s the tattoo of?”
The moment I spoke the words, it hit me like a bolt of lightning, but I let Jay say the words.
“It’s stupid, actually, and I don’t get at all what it has to do with Fergus, but it’s a tic-tac-toe board—right on the inside of his wrist.”
Bingo.
My stomach hit the floor hard.
Just like on Fergus’s neck. Scratched out with a knife or something sharp. Now, the question was, did I tell Jay I’d seen that on Fergus’s neck, as had Coop and Knuckles? Or shut my mouth because I was one of the few who’d seen it?
Was this all the evidence they had? And really, would he do something so obvious like carve a sign into Fergus’s neck that matched a tattoo he had on his person?
Who’s that careless a killer? The more I chewed on that, the less I believed an ex-undercover cop, one who’d dealt with gangs, would do something so stupid.
And I hoped his lawyer would say the same. But that small niggle in the back of my head, the one that said Detective Primrose didn’t strike me as someone who would do something so rash as to arrest Higgs without cause, said they had something else. Something viable—something that would stick.
But I didn’t have to worry about asking, because just as I was about to, Knuckles strolled in through the sliding glass door, his big body taking up the space with the grace of a panther.
He slipped into the waiting area, caught sight of us, lifted a big hand, a glint of concern in his eyes, and came to greet us.
“Knuckles,” Coop said with almost a hint of excitement. Then she threw her arms around his wide waist, driving her hands into his leather vest.
At first he didn’t look like he knew what to do with her affectionate greeting. Heck, neither did I. She didn’t respond this way to many people, and so far today, she was oozing all manner of emotions.
But then he put his hands on her shoulders and patted them before setting her in front of him with a grin. “You okay, Coop? They treat ya right in there?”
She bounced her head, her gaze up at him blank, but I could tell she had an affinity for him she didn’t know how to express. “I’m fine, Donald P. Ledbetter. Very fine. How are you?”
“Well, I came to check on you ladies and Higgs, that’s how I am.” He eyeballed me in the chair next to Jay then smiled, so I patted the seat next to me, and he wedged into it, putting an arm around the back of my chair as he reached over and shook hands with an eerily pale Jay. “You okay, man?” he asked.
“As okay as I can be. Thanks for coming.”
I cocked my head. “Do you two know each other?”
Knuckles gave a sharp nod of his head and leaned back. “We’ve met once or twice in conjunction with the shelter.”
“It’s Knuckles, yeah? Last Christmas—the party at the shelter for the kids is where we met, right?” Jay asked.
“You bet,” he responded. “I did the kids’ tattoos.”
“You gave children tattoos?”
Knuckles chuckled, his weathered face a welcome sight. “Not real ones, silly goose. Airbrushed. They love ’em. But forget about me. You okay, Trixie?”
“I’m fine. Really. But how did you know what happened?” I asked, giving his arm a squeeze to thank him for showing up. I didn’t understand why he had, but seeing him brought a warmth to my heart I can’t quite describe.
Running a hand over his beard, he settled in. “Well, I was headed to your place to talk to you two. I didn’t like the way you left yesterday, Trixie. I was just so caught off guard… Still, it was wrong of me. I wanted to apologize and see if I could offer you girls some lunch so we could talk some more about Fergus’s murder and opening the store. Delores told me what happened. Everyone was talking about it, in fact. So I came right over to see if you needed some support.”
My heart fairly glowed. “That’s so kind of you, Knuckles. You’re a really good guy. Thank you, but so far, we have nothing. As much nothing as we did last night.”
“So Higgs is in there being questioned right now?”
I sighed, raspy and annoyed at the very thought. “He
is, and though it’s only been a couple of hours, it feels like eternity.”
“Tell me what I can do to make this better? You want me to make a lunch run? Take Coop with me and we’ll grab something besides food from a dispenser, get her out of here to clear her head?”
I don’t know how we’d gotten so lucky when we found Knuckles, but I was ever so grateful today to whoever was in charge of the universe. Ever so. “You’d do that?”
His nod was brisk, his warm eyes crinkling at the corners. “I would. Of course, I would, kiddo.”
“Let me give you some money.” I began digging in my pockets, but he held up a hand.
“It’s on me. I was coming by to see if you ladies wanted to have lunch with me anyway. Anything you absolutely won’t eat? Allergies?”
Patting his arm, I smiled as my stomach grumbled. “I’ll eat whatever if you’re buying. How about you, Jay? Anything you’re opposed to?”
His sigh was one of resignation. “I’m good with anything. Thanks, Knuckles.”
Knuckles rose, his thick thighs lifting him from the chair as he called out to my demon, “Hey, Coop? You wanna ride on the back of a motorcycle?”
She hopped up from her chair in front of the fish tank about as fast as I’d ever seen her move unless she was preparing to slice someone’s throat open. “You have a motorcycle?”
Knuckles laughed and offered her an arm. “I do. But you have to wear a helmet. I know some ladies don’t like that because it messes up their hair. My daughter always gripes about it, but I insist.”
She threaded her arm through his and said, “I’m not a lady. I’m a…”
I held my breath. Please don’t let her say demon. Pleasedon’tlethersaydemon!
“I’m a Coop. And I like you so-so much, Knuckles.”
Now he really laughed out loud, enough to turn heads in the waiting room, his eyes alight with amusement. “I like you, too, Coop. Let’s get these people fed, okay?”
“Can I drive, Knuckles?” Coop asked, with a hint of eagerness in her tone. Yet another emotion she was picking up on, pleasing me to no end.
Then There Were Nun Page 13