by Lee Driver
Einstein dipped his head up and down in response, training one yellow-ringed black eye on him.
Dagger handed Einstein a Brazil nut and ran his hand down the macaw’s back whispering, “Be a good boy and go to your room.” Einstein flew off with his treat in his beak. Dagger closed both doors to the aviary, minimizing the noise level.
Padre explained to Sara, “Dagger and I met during a bank robbery, so to speak. The perps were going to keep everyone as hostages. Dagger created some kinda bomb using a piece of fuse, some metal nuts or bolts, and a cigarette. Just big enough to divert attention but small enough so it didn’t blow us all to hell. I ain’t never seen nothing like it.”
“Guess I watched a little too much TV as a kid.” Dagger motioned Padre over to the couch.
Sara sat down on the love seat and gathered her legs under her. “Why does Dagger call you Padre?”
Dagger explained, “Jerry attended two years of seminary school until he realized he wanted to hold a gun instead of a bible.”
Nudging the case folder on Rachel, Padre said, “That’s your file. I made you a copy but you have no idea how you got it.” Padre gave Dagger a knowing wink. It wasn’t unusual for information to conveniently fall into Padre’s lap. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he asked, “Why the interest? She’s been dead for what, five years now?”
“Five years next week,” Dagger replied. “But,” he paused, choosing their cover carefully, “I have a client who saw her a couple days ago.”
Padre scoffed. “You’re kidding. Where?”
“At the Dunes Resort in Michigan City. Unfortunately, this time she was dead, murdered, we think.”
“Were you the investigating officer?” Sara asked.
“No. Cal Dobrowski was. He’s retired now.” Padre thought for a moment, ran his fingertip gingerly across his scar. “But if your client saw her, why didn’t he, or she, call the police?”
Dagger flashed a quick glance at Sara. Then retrieved the two composite pictures from his desk. “Let’s just say it’s complicated.”
“You haven’t changed. You’re doing what you do best,” Padre countered, “being evasive.”
Dagger laid the pictures on the table and sat down. “Do you recognize either of these two?”
Padre examined the pictures carefully. “I suppose having a crime unit check for fingerprints didn’t occur to you.”
“The place was clean.”
Padre laid the pictures back down. “So, you were there.”
Dagger stacked the pictures in a neat pile and shoved them in a file folder. If it had been any other cop, Dagger would have been dragged into the precinct by now. He handed Padre the folder. “You can take the pictures with you. I have another set.”
Padre gazed curiously at Sara whose gaze darted from Dagger to the pictures.
Sara stood. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Something cold.” Padre watched her leave and then turned to Dagger.
Dagger opened the box and showed Padre the earring. “This is the only thing I was able to locate. The victim was wearing it.”
Padre examined the earring. “Why did you wait two days to call me?”
“Jezzus, Padre. What’s with the third degree?” Dagger clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back, staring up at the hazy sky beyond the skylights.
Sara returned and handed Padre a glass of lemonade. Dagger shifted his eyes from her to the kitchen, signaling her to disappear.
“Just trying to get something to go on.”
Once Sara left, Dagger straightened up and said, “My client happened to be at the Tyler house last night and saw a picture of Rachel. I have to tell you it’s difficult for me to believe the story since I saw no sign of a struggle when I searched that townhouse. But my client is a very credible witness.”
“Have you checked with the Michigan City police?”
“I thought it would be rather awkward for me since they’d probably drag my ass in for questioning. However,” Dagger grinned, “you are in a better position to pick their collective brains.”
“Sounds like a plan. And I’ll fax them these pictures.” He placed the earring on the table.
“Just make sure the press doesn’t get wind of this. Don’t mention the earring to the Michigan City cops, and, god forbid, don’t mention my name. Sara and I are attending another party at the Tylers tonight. We’ll slip in a few delicate questions, maybe drop a few not-too-delicate time bombs.”
Padre held the cold glass to his forehead. “Damn, you keep it warm in here.” He pushed wisps of wet hair off his forehead and thumbed through the case file again. “According to this report, Harbor Rentals provides boats and crew members for charter cruises. Tyler hired two men to pilot his boat the night of Rachel’s disappearance. At the last minute, Tyler was called away on business so Rachel went by herself. The reports detail where everyone was that night and the testimonies from Pete Foster and Grant Oakley, the crew members. And there’s also an extensive background check on Rachel.”
Dagger jotted notes in the margins of his copy. “So, where and why would a young woman hide out for five years?”
Sara returned carrying freshly washed vegetables in a bowl. She slid open the two doors and entered the aviary. She filled one of the food bowls and stood in the doorway watching the macaw.
“What about Robert Tyler? Was he a suspect?” Dagger asked.
Padre replied, “No. He was madly in love with his wife, according to all these notes. Some of her modeling friends agreed that Rachel was treated like a queen by Robert Tyler.”
“But did she love him?” Dagger asked.
“Supposedly.”
Padre closed the file folder. “If it were a kidnapping, and believe me a kidnapper could have gotten a lot of money out of old man Tyler, there was never a ransom note.”
Einstein flew back into the living room and perched near Dagger’s desk. “AWK, DUNES RESORT, DUNES RESORT.” Einstein fanned his colorful wings as if circulating the room air.
Dagger rose from the couch, his brows forming a straight line. “Wait a minute. Einstein might have something there.” He sat down at his computer and accessed America On-Line.
“What are you doing?” Padre walked over to the desk and leaned his arms on the ledge, weight shifted. He jammed a fist just under his scar.
Sara cradled Einstein, kissed the top of his head. “Be good.”
Dagger said, “I’m checking all the holdings of Tyler International.”
“AWWWKK, DUNES RESORT, AWK.” Einstein craned his neck to see the monitor.
Padre returned to the couch. “So, Sara, how long have you been working for Dagger Investigations?” He watched her fold herself gracefully onto the floor in front of the coffee table, her long hair touching the floor.
“Just a few months.” Sara studied her hands nervously.
“GOTCHA!” Dagger leaped from the chair. “Einstein, you are a genius.”
“What did you find?” Padre asked.
Dagger showed Padre the printout. “Tyler International owns the Dunes Resort. It was acquired three years before Rachel died, the first time.”
“Interesting.” Padre studied the printout, then glanced at Einstein. “How did your bird know that?”
“I vaguely remember talking to Simon some time last year about good stocks to get into. Tyler International was one of them. I must have listed some of the resorts Tyler owns and Einstein associated the name Tyler with the Dunes Resort.” Dagger puffed up like a proud father.
Sara squirted lotion in the palm of her hands and worked the cream into the ragged skin on her knuckles. She said, “Who better to have access to a new construction site than one of the Tylers?”
Dagger studied the list of suspects he had made. “The question is: Which Tyler?”
CHAPTER 11
Padre left after they agreed to keep in touch to compare notes. Padre would take a few days off and drive out to Michigan City to have a look
around the Dunes Resort.
“How do they look?” Dagger held up the samples of the forged checks. “All I have to do is keep my eyes and ears open tonight and I should come up with the appropriate recipients of Leyton Monroe’s generosity.”
Sara’s eyes widened. “You’re going to give his money away?”
He crooked his finger and tapped it under her chin. “Nah, just helping him spend it.” The intercom from the front gate rang out. “That’s probably Hardaway.” Dagger left his project on the worktable and exited the secret room. He lifted the cover to the fake thermostat on the wall and punched a button to close the mirrored door.
Stu Hardaway looked like a short version of Danny Thomas, with a honker of a nose and hairy knuckles. A chunk of cigar jutted out from between his plump lips.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Hardaway, but we don’t allow smoking,” Sara said gently.
Stu Hardaway stared indignantly at Sara, as if he were just refused seating at the Le Janiere Restaurant at the Ritz Carlton Hotel.
“I won’t be here long enough for you to even get a whiff of it, honey,” Stu barked.
Sara stepped out onto the stoop and held the screen door open. “I smelled it the moment you got out of your car. If you don’t mind.”
Stu jerked his head at Dagger, waiting for him to get his hired help in line.
Dagger said, “Don’t worry. Your smelly turd will be safe outside.”
“AWK, STINKY, STINKY.” Einstein added his two cents while hanging upside down by the grated door.
Stu slapped his suitcase on Dagger’s desk. Three large-stoned rings were squeezed over his sausage fingers. One had a large “S” in diamonds surrounded by black onyx stones. A thick gold chain link necklace around his compressed neck held a large pendant in the shape of a dollar sign.
“Crissake,” Stu muttered. “You’ve got some smelly bird in here with filthy bird shit all over and you’re worried about my cigar? Now I’ve heard everything.”
Sara waited until Stu tossed the cigar out the opened door, then she crossed the room to the aviary. “Einstein doesn’t stink and he’s trained.”
Stu laughed showing gold caps in two of his molars. “A bird that shits in a litter box.” He shook his head, causing wisps of thin hair to break free from whatever spray had held them in one place.
“Not a litter box but at least in a specific area,” Dagger clarified.
Stu cast a gaze toward Einstein, saying, “Hope you don’t go outside during hunting season, you oversized crow.”
Einstein climbed on the perch by his door, lifted his wings, and fanned out his tail. He made several hacking motions toward Stu.
“Let’s finish this up, Stu, before I sic my guard parrot on you.” Dagger popped the tape into the machine and pressed the PLAY button.
Stu stood vigil over the tape player, gleefully smiling as he heard his wife and her paramour trade company secrets of acquisitions and bidding contracts, all the conversations Dagger had taped during his trip to the Dunes Resort.
“Your ass is fried now, you whore.”
Dagger pressed the STOP/EJECT button. “You do realize that you might not be able to use this tape in a courtroom.”
Stu handed Dagger an envelope of cash. “I don’t think it will make it to a courtroom. Just as long as I get that bloodsucking wife out of my life and be able to keep my hard-earned money, I’ll be perfectly happy.”
Sara stood at the kitchen door watching Stu Hardaway drive away in his Lexus. Dagger counted out the hundred-dollar bills on his desk.
“Why do people get married if they don’t even like each other?” Sara slid open the door to Einstein’s room on her way to Dagger’s desk. She eyed the stacks of money.
Dagger scooped up the money and banded the stacks. “Sometimes people don’t show their true selves until after they are married.”
“I think the lucky one is Mrs. Hardaway. Stu Hardaway is a self-righteous, sexist pig.”
Dagger smiled. “Don’t hold back, Sara.”
“I don’t think I could stand living ten minutes under the same roof with him. Especially those cigars.” She shivered at the mention of the foul-smelling tobacco.
He handed her the bundles of cash. “Want to do the honors and put these in the safe?”
“How much did we milk him for?” Sara asked as she retreated to the vault.
“Thirty thousand.” Dagger smiled. Six months before she would never have asked such a question. He had created a monster. And Simon was right—he wouldn’t have it any other way.
CHAPTER 12
“PARTY TIME, PARTY TIME,” Einstein shrieked as he flew from the tree to the birdbath. He pulled on a chain, spraying himself with a shower of water. Turning around several times, he flapped his wings and chattered incessantly.
“We won’t be long, Einstein. I promise.” Sara filled two of Einstein’s food dishes with fresh vegetables. She hung a braided rope filled with Brazil nuts from one of the tree limbs and placed several interlocking toys on the floor. “That should keep you busy while we’re gone.”
Dagger peered into the aviary and whistled, admiring the aqua-colored, chiffon-tiered dress Sara wore. The color matched her eyes. “Absolutely gorgeous.”
Einstein let out a shrill whistle. “GORGEOUS, AWWWKK.” He flew to the tree and shook the water from his feathers. Sara laughed and ran from the room, scolding Einstein for spraying her dress.
Dagger slid the grated door shut and turned the key in the padlock. “Behave yourself while we’re gone.”
“HELLO, HELLO, AWK. DAGGER INVESTIGATIONS. YOU LOSE IT, WE’LL FIND IT. AWK.”
“Sorry, buddy. You won’t be able to answer the phone from in there.” Dagger shook the door to make sure the lock held. He slipped a black sportscoat on over his black dress pants and black shirt. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of Nick having his sights set on Sara. He felt like her protector. Sara’s grandmother had been Sara’s confidante, her sounding board, teacher. Since Ada’s death, Dagger was the only person Sara trusted.
Dagger gave Sara a puzzled look.
Sara asked, “What?”
“I just wondered…have you ever dated?”
Sara dropped her gaze, fumbled with her purse. “I think I left my comb upstairs.”
As he watched her climb the stairs, Dagger whispered, “Oh my god.”
“Just remember,” Dagger warned Sara as they entered the main dining room. “If he tries anything, you kick the shit out of him.”
“Dagger, please!” Sara felt her face flush.
“And don’t forget why we’re here.”
The main dining room was in a different wing from the ballroom where they had mingled Friday night. The table, covered with a festive cloth, was set for nine people, a bit more intimate than the previous star-studded event. The table could easily seat twice as many, but tonight the staff had provided additional space between each seating. Sara was sure there must be something in an etiquette book that dictated how to host a party for fewer than eighteen people.
Fragrant, colorful floral arrangements graced the table. Sara had no idea why each place setting needed so much silverware. Friday night there had been a buffet and her napkin had contained only the customary knife and fork. This was entirely different. She had half-expected a barbecue with hamburgers and hot dogs, not china in a rose pattern that matched the wallpaper, or polished silver and crystal wineglasses.
Today there were no security people, no valet, no metal detectors. And another thing Sara readily noticed—it wasn’t a formal dress gathering.
“Dagger, Darling.” Sheila drifted over from the opened French doors that overlooked the gardens. Her halter top was cropped just above her navel, exposing tanned shoulders and midriff. Sheila gave Sara’s dress a casual glance, then turned toward Nick who was standing by the bar. “Nicholas, I didn’t know you were taking Sara to the prom tonight.”
“Sheila, shut up.” Dagger’s stare was icy, but Sheila ignored him.
&nbs
p; Sara never thought to ask Nick what the dress code was. Her fingers played with one of the chiffon tiers and she focused her attention on a woman with auburn hair. She wore white pants and a short-sleeved white top with gold studs forming the image of a building. Sara guessed the building to be a replica of one of the Tyler resorts, probably from one of Tyler’s hotel gift shops.
Nick appeared with a beer for Dagger and a glass of wine for Sara. “Pay no attention to her, Sara. Sheila once wore a swimsuit to a pool party. She didn’t read the fine print that said to bring your own cue stick.”
Everyone laughed except Sheila. Sara distanced herself from Dagger’s former fiancee and walked out onto the balcony. Flat white buildings could be seen in the distance. She remembered Nick telling her they had their own greenhouses and a mile away from the mansion was a stable. The Tyler estate was like something Sara had seen in vacation brochures. It could be a resort on its own. And there was a lot of land here to...bury someone? The thought struck her suddenly, but it was comical and Sara found herself laughing at the thought of Rachel Tyler climbing out of her grave to declare herself alive, almost.
The balcony seemed a quiet sanctuary if it weren’t for Sheila’s loud voice. Sara moved away from the doors and toward the far end of the balcony where a myriad of potted plants huddled. She admired the flowering hibiscus trees. They were in full bloom and she inhaled their aroma. Another plant with red flowers and stems clothed with woolly hairs of a reddish/purplish color was unique but she was disappointed that the flowers didn’t have a scent.
“Thank god Sheila has you to pick on.”
Sara turned to see the auburn-haired woman, her hair short and forming a fluff of curls around her face. Her lips were covered with flaming red lipstick.
Sara asked, “Why is that?”
“Because then the bitch can leave me alone.” She laughed and held out her hand to Sara. “Edie Tyler. And you must be the young lady who is driving Sheila right up the wall.”
“I don’t mean to.” Sara noticed Edie’s two-inch nails had gold studs embedded in the bright red polish. It was hard for Sara to believe that Edie could button her clothes or even get into those horrid panty hose with nails that long.