Buried Under Clutter (Tina Tales Mysteries Book 2)

by Jan Christensen

  The click of claws on the floor and her uncle clearing his throat broke the spell.

  Hank pulled away and grinned at Uncle Bob. “I guess we need to find a better place to do this.”

  Uncle Bob laughed. “This hall is often like Grand Central Station.”

  “Cliché alert!” Tina said. “Hello, Uncle. How are you?” She looked at him with concern. He still look wan and worn. “Let’s go into the kitchen. I have something to report.”

  “Report? Doesn’t sound too good.” Uncle Bob turned, Princess right by him, and walked to the kitchen.

  Tina and Hank followed. Laura wiped her hands on a towel as they all entered. “You all look so serious.”

  “I need to tell you something that happened this afternoon.”

  Laura frowned as everyone sat down.

  “Does this call for a chocolate martini?” Uncle Bob asked, absently patting Princess on her head as she settled next to him.

  “Not yet. Maybe later.” Tina told them about her run-in with the Simpsons. When she got to the part about Eddie pulling the knife, Laura gasped and Hank took Tina’s hand. She finished the story with difficulty, then sat waiting for a response.

  Laura shook her head. “This isn’t good. I think you need to stay home until this is all over.”

  Tina jerked with surprise. She’d been kidding when she told Leslie what she thought her mother would suggest. “With a guard at all doors?”

  Laura seemed to consider that. “Yes, and one at the bottom of the trellis.”

  Tina laughed, but broke it off abruptly. “You’re serious.”

  “Almost.” Laura turned her gaze to Hank. “What do you think?”

  Hank looked into Tina’s eyes. “I think she should stay home except when I’m with her.”

  Tina felt herself bristling. “That’s ridiculous. Now that the Simpsons are in jail, I’ll be fine.”

  “Evelyn will probably be out in forty-eight hours. And Eddie not far behind, if they can post bail. But they’re not the only ones to worry about. Everyone knows you’re going through stuff in the house and will be curious about what Olivia might have hid there that could point to them as the killer.”

  Tina looked at each of them and was dismayed to see Uncle Bob’s face go white. She looked quickly away and focused on Hank. “But I turn over everything I think important to the police as I find it.”

  “The killer may not know that. He or she might think you wait. Or perhaps don’t realize the significance of certain things you find.”

  Laura nodded. “Hank’s right. It won’t hurt you to stick to home unless Hank is with you.”

  “But he may not be available every time I want to go out.”

  “If you can be flexible, so can I.” Hank squeezed her hand. “Let’s try it and see how it goes.”

  “Oh, all right.” Tina stood up. “We still on for dinner tonight? I decided on The Mooring.”

  Hank raised an eyebrow and stood, too. “You’re usually more considerate of my wallet.”

  “Mother can pay you by the hour. On top of your consulting fees, I’m sure you can afford it. I feel as if I’m in that movie, ‘My Bodyguard.’”

  Laura looked both amused and exasperated. “So I guess eating at The Mooring will help with that feeling?”

  “Couldn’t hurt.” Tina turned to Uncle Bob. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Tina studied him a moment, then bent down to kiss him on the cheek. He didn’t move, so she took Hank by the hand and led him out of the kitchen. “See you later,” she called.

  When they were both buckled into the Jaguar and on their way to Thames Street, Hank said, “You think Uncle Bob will be okay?”

  “I’m not sure. He looks so bad—a few years older than before Olivia died. I’ll be so glad when this is all over.”

  “So will I,” Hank said. “For all your sakes.”

  “You think it will be over soon?”

  “Yes. I do.”

  A sensation of warmth spread through Tina’s body. How she loved this man. Why had it taken her so long to realize that? But she couldn’t help teasing him. “‘I do?’ I didn’t think the words ‘I do’ would ever pass your lips, Hank Silver.”

  He nodded. “That’s probably the last time they ever will.”

  Tina wasn’t sure if he kidding or not. She punched him lightly on his bicep. “We’ll see.”

  CHAPTER 47

  They arrived at Sayer’s Wharf and entered The Mooring. Since it was too cool for the outside deck, Hank asked for a table near the fireplace. Tina looked around with pleasure. Dark walls, floor, and furniture gave the restaurant a shipboard appearance. She didn’t need to look at the menu. She’d have the lobster stuffed with scallops and shrimp. They ordered drinks and littlenecks first, then just looked at each other for a few moments.

  Hank smiled. “You don’t look as if you’d been threatened today. Or much like a new heiress, either.”

  Tina patted her hair. “Am I a mess? I should have freshened up before we left the house. I just wanted to get out of my mother’s clutches.”

  Hank laughed. “You look as cute as ever.”

  She pretended to glare at him, then cocked her head. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  He rolled his eyes, then stared at the restaurant entrance.

  Tina turned around to look. “That’s Mickey! He can afford this on a cop’s salary?”

  “Maybe his date’s paying.”

  Tina took a closer look at the woman beside Mickey. She tottered on four-inch silver spike heels and wore a clingy red dress. Her blonde hair was almost white. As they came closer, Tina realized she was older than Mickey by at least a decade. A cougar? Maybe his mother or an aunt. Somehow she doubted that. They didn’t look at all alike.

  Mickey noticed them and came to an abrupt halt. The maitre’d and the woman kept going, and Mickey hastened to catch up. He tapped his date on the shoulder. She turned around, frowning. Mickey said something Tina couldn’t hear. When the maitre’d arrived at where he’d planned to seat them, he stopped. When he saw they were no longer with him, he looked startled. Mickey took the woman with him by the elbow and approached their table.

  “Hi, Tina. Hank. How’s your day off been?”

  “Hello, Mickey,” Tina said. “It’s been a strange one. How’re you doing?”

  “Fine. This is Valerie Evans.” He introduced everyone and then stood there, waiting.

  Tina realized he wanted to be invited to join them. She looked at Hank. Couldn’t tell from his expression what he preferred. Curious, she gestured toward the two empty chairs at their table. “Would you like to join us?”

  “Thanks.” Mickey pulled out a chair for Valerie. She hesitated, then sat down.

  Tina noticed Valerie gazing at Hank like a hungry cat. Tina looked at Hank. Still inscrutable. Tina didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused. She decided on amused and probing. “Do you live in Newport, Valerie?”

  The waiter arrived before Valerie could answer and took her and Mickey’s drink orders. They didn’t ask for an appetizer. Tina scooped the last littleneck from its shell and popped it into her mouth as she waited for Valerie to answer.

  “I moved here a few months ago. How about you?” She had a sultry voice. With a fluid gesture, she put her napkin in her lap, then precisely arranged the silverware.

  “Born and raised. Left for a few years, but I’m back now.”

  “And you?” Valerie turned to Hank.

  “Lived here all my life.”

  “What brought you here?” Tina asked.

  Valerie’s eyes remained on Hank a heartbeat longer, than she turned her gaze to Tina. “A sailboat.” At Tina’s startled look, she laughed. “A friend of mine decided to sail up for the summer. I liked it so much, I decided to stay. He sailed off into the sunset, and here I am. It was even better when I met Mickey.” She put her hand over his and squeezed.

  The waiter brought drinks, then took Mickey’s and Valerie
’s orders. When he left, Tina asked, “So what do you do here?”

  “Not much. I’m redoing a house. Lots of shopping. What about you?”

  “I’m a professional organizer.” Somehow saying that to this woman made it sound sort of grubby.

  “Oh, you’re the one Mickey has been telling me about. Cleaning out that old Victorian.” Vicky shuddered. “Sounds dismal.”

  “It’s not so bad once you get used to it. We’re finding lots of interesting things.”

  “I suppose.” Valerie took a sip of her martini, then patted her lips with her napkin. None of the bright red lipstick stained the snow-white cloth. Tina would have to check into some of the kind that didn’t smudge.

  “Where’s the house you’re re-doing?” Tina asked.

  Valerie smiled. “Just down the street from Mickey. That’s how we met.”

  Great, they were neighbors. “I live across the street from Mickey. One down. He actually lives directly across from the house we’re working in. You know the one?”

  “Oh, yes. I hope it gets fixed up. It’s certainly one that needs it badly.”

  Tina was trying to decide if this woman fixed up places for a living, or if she was rich enough to do it as a hobby. Or maybe she’d even decided to make Newport her home. “Well, Newport is a great place to live. It does get cold in the winter, and the wind can be biting.”

  “I’ll probably go down to South Carolina for the rest of the winter in a couple of weeks.” She looked at Mickey. “Or maybe not.”

  Mickey’s face turned pink. Tina grinned and noticed Hank hid a smile.

  “You have a place down there?” Tina asked.

  The waiter arrived, took away the empty appetizer plate, and placed salads in front of everyone. He offered the peppermill to Valerie.

  “A condo in Greenville.” Valerie nodded at the waiter, and he ground away. No one else wanted any, so he left.

  Mickey cleared his throat. “What did you do today, Tina? Go shopping?”

  Tina moved the greens around to mix the dressing into the salad better. “I went to visit my friend, Leslie. Unfortunately, we didn’t get to talk before the Simpsons showed up. You remember them?”

  “Yes. They really wanted to see what Mrs. Blackwell left them.”

  Tina glanced at Hank, wondering how much she should tell Mickey about what Eddie had done. He saved her from deciding by saying, “Unfortunately, Eddie Simpson got a little impatient when Tina wouldn’t answer his questions about what she’d found at the house and pulled a knife on her.”

  Valerie gasped, and Mickey frowned. Hank continued. “Tina had seen them following her, so she called me when she got to Leslie’s shop. I got there in time to defuse the situation.”

  Wide-eyed, Valerie asked, “How did you do that?”

  “With my gun. Gun trumps knife.” Hank took a mouthful of salad, looking rather self-satisfied. Tina hid a grin.

  Valerie continued to stare at Hank, her expression turning to admiration. “Are you a police officer?”

  “No.”

  Valerie looked surprised. “What do you do, then?”

  “This and that.”

  Now she appeared irked. “You don’t have a job?”

  Hank shrugged. “I don’t talk about what I do.”

  Valerie gaped at him for a moment, then quickly closed her mouth and started eating her salad, looking even more annoyed. Tina knew how she felt. But at least now she knew what Hank did. Or maybe she didn’t really know. She looked at him to see if his expression gave anything away. As usual, it didn’t.

  “So what happened to Eddie Simpson?” Mickey asked.

  Hank raised an eyebrow. “He’s in jail. As is Evelyn. They’re brother and sister, by the way, not husband and wife.”

  “That’s interesting. I imagine Lisbeth is looking into their background even more now.”

  “Who’s Lisbeth?” Valerie asked.

  “She’s heading the investigation into Olivia Blackwell’s murder.”

  Valerie shuddered and turned her attention to Tina. “I can’t imagine living next to that rundown house, and now knowing the owner was murdered. Mickey says she was quite unpleasant ever since he’s lived on that block.”

  “She wasn’t so bad when I was younger. Used to let me pet her cats and fed me cookies. She got stranger as the years went by. Her niece told me she fell and hit her head. We now know that could be the reason she turned into a hoarder and had a change of personality.”

  “‘We now know?’ Who’s ‘we?’”

  “I’m a trained psychologist. And after Mrs. Blackwell was killed, I researched the most current thinking about hoarders.”

  “You gave it up to be a professional organizer?”

  “Yes.” Tina watched with relief as the waiter removed their salad plates and set out the main courses. She was even more relieved when Hank changed the subject.

  “Have you always fixed up older houses?” he asked Valerie.

  “My first husband was a builder. We’d move into the houses he built, decorate them, and then sell them. After he died, I wasn’t qualified to be a builder, but I know a lot about construction and had experience decorating, so I began renovating old houses.”

  “You flip them then?” Tina asked.

  “Yes. I was doing it before they had TV shows about it, though.”

  “Do you plan to flip the one you’re in right now?”

  “I’m not sure. Usually when I buy a place, I love its potential and always vow to stay in it for the rest of my life after it’s fixed up. But then the bug hits me to do another. And another. Someday, perhaps, I’ll quit. Maybe this time.” She smiled at Mickey.

  “She’s been giving me tips on our renovation,” Mickey said. “Tina, you figured out anything more about the clues Mrs. Blackwell left?”

  Tina used her fork to grab a shrimp from inside the lobster. “I haven’t really had time to think about it.”

  “She left clues?” Valerie asked.

  Mickey told her what they’d found.

  “It sounds as if she suspected everyone was out to get her. Going by what you’ve already found, I doubt she can point you toward the killer.” Valerie took a sip of her martini, watching Hank over the large rim of her glass.

  “Good observation,” Hank said.

  Tina stared at him, then turned to Valerie. “You know, Valerie, you should go to my friend Leslie’s shop on Spring Street, if you haven’t already. She’s a fabulous decorator.”

  “I’ve been to several down there. Which shop is hers?”

  Tina told her.

  “Yes. She is good.”

  “Also, when we’re done sorting out everything at the Blackwell house, there will be a huge sale. You’ll want to check it out. She bought some astonishing things. Plus she’d traveled and bought stuff in different countries.”

  “Good idea. But I wonder how many people will want to buy things that belonged to a murdered woman.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Hank said. “Some people won’t. But there will be lots who will find it even more exciting to have such an article.”

  Tina and Valerie both shivered, then laughed. “Her sister already offered me a cookie jar Mrs. Blackwell filled with hermits when I was little. I love those, and she always gave me some when she saw me outside. It’s a tuxedo cat.”

  “You going to use it?” Valerie asked.

  “I hadn’t thought about that. Probably not for cookies. Maybe just put it out at Christmas. At least I can remember when she was healthy and how nice she was back then.”

  “That’s true.” Valerie took the last sip of her martini and set the glass down. “Always remember the good memories. They can nourish the soul.”

  That was profound, Tina thought. As Uncle Bob would say, never judge a book by its cover. Then she wondered how her uncle was doing. She felt suddenly impatient to get home and ask him. But he was asleep when she got there.

  CHAPTER 48

  “You know,” Tina said as
she climbed into Hank’s Jaguar late the next morning, “I’m still surprised you’re taking me with you on this expedition to Suffolk Downs.”

  “Sometimes,” Hank said, sliding into the driver’s seat, “I surprise myself. But there are several reasons for this. One, you know what Harold Rankin looks like in person. Two, this looks like a date—”

  “It isn’t?” She gave him what she hoped was a wicked grin.

  He glanced at her sideways. “You may think of it that way.”

  “Okay, I will.”

  Hank checked the rearview mirrors and speeded up. Then he patted her knee. “You’re so cute.”

  She knew he knew she hated being called or considered cute. But she decided to let it go. “There are more reasons you asked me along?”

  “Why, to spend quality time with you, of course.” He squeezed her knee, then held his hand there.

  She tingled and tried to keep the not-so-wicked grin off her face. “You’re so adorable, even cute, yourself. Now take your hand off me and grip that steering wheel.”

  “This is supposed to be a fun date. Taking my hand off your knee would make it less fun.”

  “Having a wreck would possibly destroy our fun for weeks to come, or forever.”

  When he frowned and removed his hand, she regretted what she’d said. No better way to turn off a guy than to complain about his driving. Or tell him how. But ever since she’d found out the way her father died—run over by a hit and run driver—she’d been a nervous passenger. She wondered how fast they were going—couldn’t see the gauge—but clamped her lips together so she wouldn’t ask.

  “Satisfied?” Hank grasped the wheel with both hands and took his eyes off the road long enough to look at her.

  “Not really.” She refrained from telling him to watch where they were going. The Rolling Stones’ lyrics about getting no satisfaction ran through her head. When would he make the big move? It dawned on her he was building up to it so it would be that much better when it finally happened.

  “Well, I warned you. Nice fall day, isn’t it? The leaves are fantastic.”

  Tina forced herself to relax. “True. Now, tell me about what you want to do at the Downs if we run into Mr. Rankin.”