by Lee Driver
Dagger clasped his hands behind his neck and stared up at the skylights. Even Sheila’s voice was beginning to grate on his nerves.
Sheila continued, her voice more excited. “I had a friend do a title search on Sara’s property. Guess what? There’s no record of ownership. We can buy it free and clear.”
Dagger looked up at the catwalk to see Sara standing there, her face sullen, eyes accusing. She turned and walked back to her room.
“I doubt you checked thoroughly, Sheila. You can’t check just any records. I think you have to go to the Bureau of Indian Affairs or the Interior Department.” His mind raced, thinking of how to divert her attention. He flipped through his notes looking for Worm’s phone number. “I have another call, Sheila. As usual, you haven’t done your homework.” He ended the call, pulled his legs off the desk and dialed Worm’s number.
“Now is a good time to call Sheila and give her your notice if you haven’t already done so.” Dagger thought Sheila could be kept busy pacing her father’s office whining about Worm quitting and then having to find a replacement for him.
Next, Dagger called Skizzy who was feeling better and bragging about how he had been able to hold his own against the two thugs that beat him up. He agreed to prepare a forged title and bury it in the bureaucratic system somewhere along with a will signed by Sara’s grandmother.
He turned from his desk and saw Sara standing by the bar. “She’s going to try to do it, isn’t she?” She tilted her head, a defiant look in her eyes spelling trouble. Sara was ready to do battle.
“I took care of it, Sara.”
She didn’t seem convinced and wouldn’t be until she had the actual papers in her hand.
“I’m sorry I didn’t take you seriously before. Forgive me?” Dagger fingered the sterling silver wolf pendant hanging from the leather cord around his neck.
“She has money and connections.”
“I know. It will be okay, Sara. I promise.”
She nodded and slipped around the corner into the kitchen.
Dagger no sooner poured himself a cup of black coffee, then Simon showed up.
“You’re going to have to talk to him,” Simon said. “Skizzy has got damn plywood nailed to the windows.”
“If it makes him feel safe.”
“Safe, hell, he may as well put a Count Dracula coffin in the back room the place is so dark.” Simon’s eyes brightened as he saw Sara enter the room in a yellow floral sundress. “My, aren’t you a breath of sunshine.”
Since Dagger had ended his phone call with Sheila, Sara felt it was safe to let Einstein out of the aviary. He immediately flew over to the doorway and whistled.
“WHAT A BODY. AWWWKK.”
Dagger yelled, “Hey, watch your beak.”
Sara laughed and told Einstein. “Aren’t you the fresh one.” She offered Einstein some broccoli and then returned to the kitchen.
Cocking his head toward Einstein, Simon said, “Does the bird have good taste or is he hearing you talk in your sleep?”
Dagger snapped the morning paper open and took a quick glance toward the doorway to the kitchen. “Don’t start. Einstein just has good taste.”
“Uh huh. Then why take a lookie-see to where that sweet young thing is?”
“Because I never know what foul thing is going to come spilling out of your mouth.” Dagger buried his face in the papers but thought back to Sara’s nude body twirling in the moonlight.
“AWK, WHAT A BODY, WHAT A BODY.” Einstein clamped onto the grated door and hung upside down.
The leather cushions hissed as Simon settled onto the couch. He chuckled and said, “You’re going to have to teach Einstein a new word or in a few months when you and that sweet thing are knockin’ boots he’s going to be screaming, ‘Oh Dagger, please!’”
Dagger snapped his paper again and glared at Simon.
“Don’t give me that look,” Simon scolded. “I’ve been there. You’re trying to convince yourself she’s just a child. Pretty soon, you be dreamin’ about her. Dreams so vivid they keep you up nights.”
“You know, Simon.” Dagger stood up. “I don’t want you to spend too much time here.”
Simon chuckled again. “What’s the matter? Am I getting a little too close to the truth?” Simon stood and arched his back, dipping left then right. “You need a more comfortable couch,” he mumbled.
“Are you leaving, Simon?” Sara asked.
“I was just trying to tell Simon that it isn’t safe for him or anyone to spend that much time around me. I don’t want anyone else to end up like Skizzy.”
“My appearance as a worn-out, flabby postal carrier is just my cover up. Nobody messes with Simon the Terrible.” Simon laughed heartily.
“COMPANY, COMPANY, AWWK.” Einstein flew over to the monitor and pushed the Entry Key to open the outside gate.
Dagger grabbed the macaw and cradled him in his arms. “So that’s how those guys got in the other night.”
“I can’t believe it,” Sara laughed. She checked the face on the monitor. “It’s Worm,” she announced. “He’s going to fill us in on his investigation.” She ran to the kitchen to wait for their visitor.
“Someone else who needs to keep his distance from me.”
Simon said, “You need to keep an eye on that little lady.”
“Trust me. Sara is capable of taking care of herself.”
Simon leaned in close and whispered, “That won’t stop them from trying.”
CHAPTER 42
“Wow.” Worm removed his glasses to look closer at the picture of Rachel taken at the medical examiner’s office. “What a shame. She was so beautiful.”
“The killers were careful. Crime Lab wasn’t able to lift any prints from either the freezer or the townhouse where we believe the murder took place.” Dagger passed additional pictures to Worm. “Padre has agreed to talk to you about the investigation.” Dagger did a slow inspection of Worm’s clothes. “Is Sheila picking out your clothes these days?” Worm was wearing a pale yellow shirt and white linen sportscoat.
Worm’s face reddened. “Looks terrible, doesn’t it?”
“It looks…summery,” Sara offered. “Don’t listen to Dagger. Everything in his closet is black and gray.”
Dagger looked down at his own black Dockers. “I only say that because that’s the first thing Sheila did was drag me through the malls. When I would refuse to try on clothes, she would buy them and present them like some offering. I always returned them.”
“Well, she won’t have me to kick around any more. I called her and quit, like you suggested.”
“How did she take it?” Dagger took a peek in the aviary. Einstein was napping so Dagger pulled both doors closed.
“First she was pissed royally. Then she went on and on about how I would never get another job in this town if she had anything to do with it.”
Sara asked, “Can she do that?”
“She can try, but Worm will have his exclusive and every paper in the country will be clamoring for his services.” Dagger handed Worm some photographs.
“More pictures of Rachel?”
“No.” Dagger sat on the armrest, one foot braced on the coffee table. “Those are composite pictures of Edie Tyler with blonde hair. It only proves she was the friend in Rachel’s vacation pictures.” Dagger checked his watch. “You have an appointment with Padre at two o’clock; and J.C. Kinnecutt, the curator for the Argyle Museum is in town. I’m going to see if he can meet with you at four o’clock.”
“Really?” Worm bubbled. “I can’t thank you enough.” He smoothed a hand over the top of his bristly hair but the hairs popped right back up. “You actually have the curator here in the states?”
“Yes, but don’t be surprised if he’s reluctant to talk. He seemed to be embarrassed by the whole ordeal and is pretty worried about keeping his job.” Dagger pointed to a stack of papers. “You’ll find a color picture of the Williamsburg Collection somewhere in that pile.”
&nb
sp; Worm dragged papers from his briefcase. “I got a lot of information on moissanite from the Internet. It was discovered in a meteorite in the 1800s by Henri Moissan.”
“How fascinating,” Sara said. She stood behind the couch looking over Worm’s shoulder.
“And,” Worm continued, “its properties are the closest thing to diamonds yet it’s about ten percent the cost of diamonds. They started producing laboratory stones in 1995 but they haven’t started to pop up in the market until recently.”
Dagger leaned back, his eyes gazing up at the catwalk. “So the public and the jewelry stores didn’t know until recently that moissanites were available?”
“But they do make them in a lab,” Sara said.
Worm peered over his shoulder at her. “Yes. They are available in yellow, blue, black, gray, and dark green. But the colorless stones are the most popular.”
Sara’s brows knitted. “They don’t make pink ones?”
Sheila threw open the door to her father’s office and was pummeled by plumes of foul-smelling cigar smoke. She waved her hands frantically in an attempt to find a patch of unpolluted air to inhale.
“Daddy, you never answered my phone call about Worm. What do I do for an assistant now?”
“Close the door!” Leyton paced the length of his wall of bookcases, leaving a trail of smoke behind him. “I have more pressing matters right now.”
“But, Daddy.”
“Sit.”
Sheila checked her watch. Whenever her father was on the warpath she was usually his sounding board. He didn’t need a hatchet man. That was normally his expertise and he wielded the hatchet with glee.
“Look at these,” he mumbled from behind his clenched cigar. He handed Sheila several letters.
She perused them quickly as he rambled about suing the bastard if he ever found out who did it.
“Daddy, these are thank-you letters. What’s the problem?”
He stripped off his suit jacket, revealing sweat stains under his armpits. His beefy arms were sunburned from last weekend’s golf outing. His face was as red as his arms and it wasn’t all from the sun.
“Oh, really? Two hundred thousand dollars to the Native American College Fund, another two hundred thousand to the United Negro College Fund, and,” he picked up one of the letters and heaved it across the room, “a lousy hundred thousand bucks to the Legal Fund for Native American Fishing Rights.”
“Well, considering how you feel about all those groups, I have to admit I’m surprised.”
Leyton plucked the cigar from his mouth. “I didn’t write the damn checks. Someone forged my signature.”
“What?” Sheila blinked quickly. “And you think I did it?”
“No, of course not. But what am I going to do? There are press releases going out expounding my benevolent virtues. And me,” he jabbed a chubby finger at his chest, “the newly elected president of the Great Lakes Fishing Rights Association.”
“So someone stole your checkbook?”
He pulled a ledger of checks from his safe. “Look. Every damn check is there. Someone literally forged the check design, the paper, and actually numbered them. I checked with the bank. They gave me the check numbers.” He fanned through the blank checks. “They are all here. The sneaky sonofabitch picked some random numbers and forged my signature.”
Sheila suddenly started to calculate the dollars. “Daddy, that’s half a million dollars!”
“No fuckin’ shit.”
“Well, stop payment, do something!”
“And how is that going to look in the papers?”
Sheila bolted out of her chair and reached for the phone. “Did you call our family attorney?”
“Put the phone down.” He checked his cigar, which had run out of steam. He tossed the slimy stub into the ashtray. “I already checked with Nathan. He closed out the checking account so no other checks can be cashed. And he said the best I can do is resign my newly elected office. But that would be far too embarrassing.”
Sheila paced, her three-inch heels grinding into the carpeting as she pivoted, her floral neck scarf trailing behind. This was her specialty—troubleshooting—and the one talent she knew her father respected in her completely. She looked pensive with one arm across her waist, a fist thrust under her chin, one long painted nail anchored between her teeth.
Sheila’s eyes brightened as she snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it. You release a statement that you were the victim of an activist group who forged stolen checks. Don’t mention anything about what a racist pig you are.” She smiled sweetly playing Daddy’s Girl to the hilt. “Everyone who knows you knows your feelings. Instead, just disclose that an investigation is ongoing and this was a cruel and practical joke. However,” Sheila added as she grabbed a pad of paper and wrote down notes, “it would be far too cruel for even you to demand that the donations be returned. In lieu of this unfortunate event, you are donating,” she glanced at her father as he dabbed perspiration from his forehead, “and you are going to have to do this, Daddy,” she continued, “you are donating an additional two hundred thousand dollars to the Great Lakes Fishing Rights Association. This way you don’t look cold-hearted by stopping payment on the checks and you appease your fellow GLFR members by tossing them more money.”
She placed her notes down and waited.
Leyton sank into his chair and expelled a long, heavy sigh. After several moments he nodded in agreement. “You are right, as always. That is really my only out. But if I ever find out who did this, he’s going to wish he had never been born.”
CHAPTER 43
“Daddy is just furious,” Sheila cried. She dabbed a tissue at the corner of each eye and sank onto a bar stool. “And then Worm quit and I just can’t do all the work on my own. And then, and then...” she stammered, wiping her eyes again, “I find out I can’t get this property for you like I promised.”
Dagger checked his watch. The last thing he needed on his doorstep was Sheila Monroe, especially when he was expecting Padre.
“I told you it’s difficult touching reservation land.”
At the sound of Sheila’s voice, Einstein flew over to the desk screeching, “WICKED WITCH, WICKED WITCH, AWWK.”
Sara rushed in from the kitchen to see what the commotion was about.
“I would like some coffee.” Sheila held up a finger only to be met with a blank stare.
“Where do you think you’re at, your country club?” Dagger asked.
“Well,” Sheila kicked off her three-inch heels, “she is your secretary. Doesn’t she do secretarial things? My father’s secretary brings his coffee.”
“AWWK, GET OUT.” Einstein buried his head under Sara’s arm, accepting the security of her gentle stroking and whispers.
“Shhhhh.” Sara kissed the top of his head.
“Well, how about a sandwich? I’m starving.” Sheila looked at Sara again.
“AWWWKK.” Einstein flew up to the catwalk and landed on the railing. Sara ran upstairs to calm him down.
Dagger slipped behind the bar. “All I can offer you is a beer.”
“Champagne?” Sheila stood up and leaned over the bar to check the contents on the shelf. She whispered, “Need help?” Her two box-link gold chains slipped out from under her silk blouse.
Dagger couldn’t help but notice she had more buttons undone on her blouse than necessary.
Sheila smiled seductively, placing her hand on top of his as he handed her a beer.
“I’m expecting company. Can you make it quick?”
“We have never had a problem making it quick when we needed to. Like two little rabbits.” Sheila glanced up toward the catwalk and smiled.
Einstein eyed Sheila, opened his beak, and made several hacking motions, his foot raised like a boxer.
“Come on, Einstein.” Sara coaxed him off the rail. “Don’t get yourself all riled up over nothing.” Sara sat on the catwalk with Einstein in her lap. She tried not to watch as Sheila played with the gold chai
ns around her neck, letting her fingers trace her cleavage. As a way to keep Einstein quiet so she could listen to Sheila and Dagger, Sara offered Einstein a Brazil nut, but he refused it.
“What’s this about your father?” Dagger asked.
Sheila told Dagger about the forged checks. He quickly took a long pull on his beer to keep from smiling.
“Well, your father has pissed off a lot of people with his radical viewpoints.” Dagger checked his watch.
“I want to hire you.”
“Me? For what?”
“To find out who’s responsible for this.”
“No, thanks. My golden rule: I don’t do cheating spouses, missing dogs, deadbeat dads, or check forgers. Besides, your father hates me.”
Sheila did that little thing with her finger again, drawing imaginary circles on the top of his hand with the tip of one lacquered nail. Dagger pulled his hand away before the chills started making more than just the tiny hairs on his hand stand up. A reprieve—the front gate alarm rang.
“COMPANY, COMPANY, AWWK.” Einstein flew toward the monitor. Sara tore down the stairs after him.
“Hey,” Dagger yelled, diverting Einstein from the monitor to the perch by the desk. “You’ve been told not to press that buzzer.”
“SPREAD ‘UM. AWWWKK.” Einstein had seen Padre’s face on the monitor.
“Dagger, it’s not good to yell. You’ll upset him,” Sara warned.
“For crissake.” Sheila slid off the bar stool and slipped on her shoes. “Next thing she’ll have him seeing a parrot psychologist.”
Dagger let Padre in. Immediately, Einstein pointed one toe at him. Padre made a mock gun with his fingers and pointed it at Einstein.
“Let me out of here. This place is a zoo.” Sheila tried to kiss Dagger but he turned to catch the kiss on his cheek. “Think again about my offer, Sweetheart.”
“GOOD RIDDANCE, YUK,” Einstein screeched.
“Same to you, you overgrown crow.” Sheila glanced at Sara but didn’t say anything.
She was out the door and in her car before Padre said, “Sweetheart? I thought you broke things off?”