Laugh or Death (Lexi Graves Mysteries Book 6)

by Camilla Chafer

  Chapter Two

  The missing Nancy Grant was an enigma. Aged twenty-nine at her disappearance six months ago, she would now have been thirty. If she were alive, I noted in my file, adding a large question mark next to the possibility of her still-breathing status. According to her boyfriend, she didn't have a job, family, or any close friends.

  "So much for an easy job," I muttered as I scrolled through the paperwork Leo emailed only minutes before. It was less than an hour after I called him to say the agency would be delighted to take the case. Of course, I warned him that we couldn't always guarantee our success, but I assured him that we'd do everything within our power to find Nancy. His gratitude was profuse and he was still thanking me when I told him I needed to hang up and get started.

  "Easy job?" asked Lucas, easing behind my chair as he made his way to his old desk.

  I spun around to follow him with my eyes. "I thought it would be; but how do you find a missing person who has no friends or family, and might be suffering from amnesia?"

  "Beats me. I couldn't even find matching socks this morning."

  "Fine pair of detectives you two are," muttered Tony Delgado as he strolled past, a fresh cup of coffee in his hand. He dropped into his seat and swiveled to face us, trying not to laugh. When I first met Delgado, I thought he was a hard ass, but he softened considerably since then. That was, in no small part, thanks to his relationship with my big sister, Serena — who refused to call him anything except Antonio — and her baby girl, Victoria. Of course, I was responsible for setting them up. I asked Delgado to fit an alarm system at my sister's place while she was getting divorced from her no-good, rat of a husband, and she and Delgado began making gooey eyes at each other ever since. Victoria, adored him with unswerving enthusiasm.

  "I'm not a detective," pointed out Lucas. "I'm just the resident, friendly geek."

  "I stand corrected. Some detective you are," Delgado said, giving me a pointed look.

  "I'm fabulous, and you know it," I told him. "I'm also babysitting for you this weekend, so be nice to me."

  Delgado sipped his coffee and grinned. "Fair point. What's the case?"

  I filled him in as Lucas pulled up a chair and listened. "So, that's why I don't know where to start," I finished.

  "Start right here," said Delgado, reaching for the grainy photo Leo left with me. He waved it in the air before slapping it on the desk. "Find and talk to the person who took this photo as well as the people at the West Street Diner, where it was taken. Maybe someone knows something. Maybe this Nancy is a regular and turns up every Wednesday for lunch. Maybe she works nearby."

  "What if it isn't Nancy Grant?"

  "You still need to find the woman in this photo, if only to rule her out."

  "I hope it's Nancy. Otherwise, it's back to square one again. I’d hate to have to tell Leo Chandler that Montgomery is another dead end. That's back to square zero."

  "Square one is good if you've ruled something false out. No one wants to chase a false lead indefinitely," Delgado chimed in. "Plus, who knows? It might be her. This photo is the only thing you have linking your missing woman to Montgomery?"

  "Yep. Leo, that's the boyfriend, says Nancy came here for a spa weekend once, and did a little shopping, so the city’s not totally unfamiliar. He thinks that if she lost her memory, she might have been unconsciously drawn to this area. She doesn't have a driver’s license or a car, so it's reasonable to assume that she didn't travel too far from their hometown."

  Delgado gave a thoughtful nod. "Staying somewhere vaguely familiar is a possibility. She might have sensed some familiarity, without knowing how to identify it."

  "I think I need to find out more about amnesia," I decided. "Could a person actually live for six months without knowing who she was?"

  "Sure, it happens all the time when people have severe injuries or trauma. Your missing woman did suffer a head injury."

  "My sister-in-law will know all about that," I decided, thinking of Daniel's wife, Alice, who worked as a nurse at Montgomery General. She was my go-to source for all things medical. If I needed any more information about amnesia, I could ask her. "There is one thing puzzling me..."

  "Yeah?"

  "Lucas, why are you still here?" I asked, noticing our resident geek was looking very much at home. He rested his hands across his chest and waited for me to continue talking about the case.

  "Huh?" Lucas blinked.

  "That's puzzling you?" Delgado frowned.

  "Yes. I mean, no." I shook my head distractedly. "I mean, what's puzzling me is if this is Nancy, how has she been living for the past six months? If she has amnesia, she couldn't remember her Social Security number or any skills she might have, right? She wouldn't be able to get any references. And Leo says she simply wandered off, without taking anything with her."

  Delgado leaned over and tapped the photo twice with his forefinger. "Find this woman first. If it's Nancy, you'll get your answers. If it isn't..."

  "Square one," I finished as I leaned over to hit print on my laptop. Seconds later, the printer whirred to life and I heard the first sheet of paper slide through. I decided to do exactly as Delgado suggested in a moment of determined resolution to race Solomon to the finish line. I would ask around and stake out the diner, if necessary. After I found Nancy, I would gently explain who she really was, and tell her the love of her life has been searching relentlessly for her before asking her how I could now reunite them. I imagined their first meeting should be in the park, running in slow motion towards each other before stopping in front of the fountain; and in a moment of clarity, Nancy's life rushes back to her right before they embrace. I'd probably wear a really cute dress and my new tan heels when they offer me their undying gratitude. I'd probably get invited to their wedding and maybe even asked to give a speech about true love winning out, which, naturally, everyone would happily applaud.

  "You've got that look," said Delgado. "Solomon warned me about that look."

  "I got that memo too," said Lucas.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," I muttered, powering down the laptop as I bundled up the photos and printed the case file notes. I slipped them into a slim folder, which I dropped into my super cute, tan satchel. "My mind is entirely empty of anything, but the case."

  "Yeah," said Delgado. "You're probably wondering what you'll wear when you find Nancy and reunite her with her guy."

  "I was not! You are so shallow." I pouted, looking around as I swung my satchel onto my shoulder. "Where's Solomon?"

  "Upstairs; setting up surveillance on some guy," said Lucas.

  "Then why are you still here?" I squeaked, "Go help him, then text me what he's doing."

  "Huh?" sighed Lucas. "Why?"

  "Ugh! This is so not fair!" I groaned as Delgado and Lucas glanced at each other and shrugged. Clearly, word hadn't got out yet about my wager with Solomon, which was a relief. However, it was also annoying since it appeared Solomon was getting the risk management team to do his dirty work of surveillance on Leo Chandler. So much for him tracking Leo the old-fashioned way like I had to track down Nancy Grant! "I'm out of here," I told them, under my breath, adding, "right after I see Solomon."

  I took the stairs and jabbed the code into the entry panel adjacent to the door, pushing through it scant seconds later. Solomon was sitting with another guy at the far end of the room, both of them staring at a bank of monitors.

  "You're cheating," I said as I approached. The monitors immediately shut down.

  "Huh?" Solomon looked up, then smiled, momentarily disarming me with the loveliness of his face. Two could play at that game, I decided, giving him a winning smile of my own. "What's with the crazy face?" he asked.

  I pouted sulkily. "I was being winsome. Are you using agency assets to watch Leo Chandler?"

  "Nope."

  "Not even a little bit?" I persisted, holding my thumb and forefinger barely apart.

  "Maybe a little bit, but you and I didn't put any condi
tions on the bet," Solomon reminded me as he waved his arms around. "Use anything you need. Anything."

  "Maybe I will." I looked around for something useful, spotted nothing, so flapped my hand in a vague direction. "Maybe I'll use that stuff."

  "The coffee maker? Even if I went old school, I'd still win." The guy sitting next to Solomon flared his nostrils and pursed his mouth, trying not to laugh. I gave him a narrow-eyed look and he averted his eyes, suddenly finding his keyboard enormously interesting.

  "That's where you're wrong. I have a lead."

  "What lead?"

  "I'm not telling you. That would give you an unfair advantage."

  "Just log it into the system. I want to know where employees are at all times. It could save you from getting shot, stabbed, or kidnapped."

  That still happened, I thought, although I didn't bother to point it out. Those things were going to happen regardless of a paper trail. On second thought, I'd rather none of those things happened to me again anytime soon. "Fine, but you can't look. No cheating!"

  "No cheating," Solomon agreed, folding his arms behind his head as he leaned backwards in his chair, looking every bit relaxed and confident. "I can't wait for our vacation."

  "I don't know if my boss will give me the time off," I teased, winking at him as I about-faced, ready to hightail it to the diner. I felt proud of the maneuver, which I did with considerably more aplomb and cuteness than during my brief excursion in ugly and flat boots in the Army after an ill-fated decision years ago. "He's a taskmaster. I should have asked for extra vacation leave as part of the bet."

  "No changing the rules or the wager." Solomon wagged his finger at me, but all I did was give him a little wave before pushing out the door, and heading down to the parking lot.

  In the middle of three SUVs, and the hunk-of-junk Lucas drove, was my VW. Small and compact, it was the perfectly inconspicuous vehicle for a PI. It was also fully paid off and all mine, so that was a bonus too. Not that it mattered, so long as I won the wager, but as I drove downtown, I began to employ my mental arithmetic skills. I had to work out exactly what kind of financial hole I dug myself into, if, by some miracle, I lost. Would Solomon give me a pay raise, I wondered? I immediately disregarded that idea as ludicrous. Of course, he wouldn't! He knew exactly what my salary was since he paid it. Of course, there was always the small completion bonus of the assignment to look forward to if I resolved it, but even I had to admit that if Solomon discovered something suspicious about our client, I couldn't rely on receiving it in my next paycheck.

  I pulled into the first available space a block away from West Street, where Nancy had potentially been spotted. I placed a call to my best friend and latterly, sister-in-law, Lily. "How much does a really fancy vacation cost?" I asked when she picked up.

  "Thousands. Where are we going?"

  "Sorry, I meant for Solomon and me."

  "Too bad. We would have had the best time. Where are you going?"

  "I have no idea, but I just got a new case and we placed a bet on it. If I win, he takes me on vacation. If I lose, I take him."

  "Oh, man. You have got to win. It's the principle of the thing."

  "And because I'll be in the hole for thousands."

  "That too. Can you get a pay raise?"

  I thought of my conversation with Solomon. "Already discounted that."

  "I love the word discount."

  "Not in this sense. In this sense, it's a big, fat, no."

  "Want some help? The bar doesn't open for a while yet and I'm doing the inventory. I could help you. We can totally win this. Wait, what are we trying to win? And how? Also, if I help, can I come?"

  "A case and a vacation, and sure, if you want to play gooseberry and watch us get smoochy," I told her. "Thanks, but no to the help. I'm just going to chase up a lead, pick up some brochures at the travel agency to subtly leave on Solomon's desk, then go home to work on my action plan."

  "Want to have dinner with Jord and me later at the house? I’d like you to look at paint samples and take my side over Jord’s. I have to invoke the best friend rule on this one, otherwise, my husband will bully me into kelly green for the sitting room and I can't. I just can't!"

  "No problem. I saw Jord's single-boy apartment and I know your taste. Plus, I'm not visiting if you paint that room kelly green. It'll look like a leprechaun threw up."

  "That's what I said!"

  I hung up after confirming a time for dinner and pulled the photo out of my purse, studying it intently. It was color, but it wasn't great. The woman my client hoped was his Nancy wore blue jeans and a pale shirt in some kind of checked fabric. She had a watch on her left wrist, but I couldn't make out the brand or style in the blur. Nor could I make out any other jewelry although she could have been wearing some. Her hair was down, but neat. She didn't look homeless as she sat there with a plate and cup in front of her on the table. Attached to the photo was an email and a brief note saying that the sender saw Leo's advert and thought this was a good likeness. He or she also wished him well on his search. There was an email address, but no phone number; and the email address was the type that didn't give a clue about the sender's identity.

  I called up the email program on my phone and fired off a quick note to the sender, explaining who I was and asking if I could call or see him or her regarding the photo. Tucking the phone away into my purse, I took one last look at the photo, then made my way towards the diner.

  I was often in this part of town, given that it wasn't too far from the agency's office, and had spent my whole life in Montgomery, bar that brief and ill-fated flirtation with the Army, however, I had never been inside that diner before. As I entered, the smell of hot, fried food made my stomach rumble. I took a stool at the counter and waited for the waitress to find me.

  She was in her late forties with soft blonde hair and a welcoming smile. "What can I get you?"

  "Coffee and a donut," I said, my mouth and stomach both moving faster than my brain.

  "Coming right up. You don't look like a cop, but I'll give you the cop special," she said, placing a fresh cup in front of me.

  "I'm related to most of the cops in town," I told her, which wasn't strictly true, although I did have nineteen serving family members.

  "Yeah, you look familiar. You one of the Maguires?"

  "One of the Graves, related to the Maguires."

  "Ah, that's why you look familiar. You must be Detective Graves' daughter. He's retired now? Such a nice man. Used to come in all the time. He even investigated when we had a robbery. Thieves smashed everything."

  "Wow, that must have been a while back. Dad retired a few years ago."

  "And I've been here fifteen. Take your pick of the donuts," she said, pointing to a glass-domed tray, "and tell him Mary-Ann says hello."

  "Will do. Actually, I'm here working a case."

  Mary-Ann frowned. "Thought you weren't a cop?"

  "I'm a private investigator."

  "Better salary than a cop?"

  "Not much, but better clothes," I told her.

  "Speak for yourself. Those young officers are so dashing. I may be old, but my eyes can still appreciate them a whole bunch. What can I help you with?"

  I unfolded the photo and pushed it across the counter. "I'm trying to find this woman. I have a photo of her taken in here, one to two weeks ago. Do you recognize her?"

  "Can't say I do. Do you know what time it was taken?"

  "No, sorry. I'm guessing lunch?"

  "Probably not my shift. We change them up every couple of weeks. This week, I start at three."

  "Could she be a regular?"

  Mary-Ann shook her head. "If she were a regular, I'd definitely know her. We get a lot of walk-ins. Maybe she just came in the one time. I'm sorry I can't be more help."

  "Could I leave the photo with you to ask the other waitresses?"

  "Sure."

  I scrabbled in my purse for my pen and wrote, I'm trying to find this woman along with my pho
ne number over the photo, before detaching the rest of the email. "If anyone recognizes her, or knows her, I'd really appreciate a call."

  "What did she do anyway?"

  "Nothing. She's not in any kind of trouble. I think she might be able to help in a missing person case," I explained, sketching over the details. It wouldn't do my case much good to worry anyone, especially not Nancy, if it were she. All I could do, as I slid over a few dollar bills and thanked Mary-Ann, was hope that one of the other waitresses recognized her; otherwise I'd be back at square one sooner than expected. I exited the diner with my donut wrapped in a napkin, and my cell phone in my other hand. I ate the donut, while the phone pinged in a message from my mom. She was asking if I were ever planning on visiting again; and if I weren't, could I at least confirm that I was working on providing her with a son-in-law? I texted back, yes, I would visit soon, maybe to the son-in-law, but what was the hurry? and ended it with a kiss. Just as I did that, the email icon flashed and I moved my thumb over it, bringing up my emails.

  "Yay!" I squeaked as I saw the very email I hoped to see. The photo I left inside the diner was taken by one Jake Knowles. He invited me to call him about the picture, but he didn't think he could help much. As I strolled down the street, I dialed and pressed the phone to my ear.

  "Yeah, hello," Jake Knowles said on answering, sliding all his words together and sounding like he was chewing something.

  "Hi, Mr. Knowles!" I replied, swallowing the last bite of donut and licking my sugared lips. "This is Lexi Graves. I just got your email."

  "The PI? Call me Jake. Like I said, I don't know what else I can tell you." His voice was high and nasal.

  "I just have a few questions actually while I look into the case. Do you remember when you took the photo of the woman?"

  "Sure. Let's see. It was last Wednesday."

  "Great. Was that at lunchtime?"

  "No, much later. I took my daughter to soccer practice, and I was getting a few snacks… so it was six, I guess, or maybe a little after."