by Lynn, JB
“Lid?” Patrick asked.
“She used the garbage can lid as a battering ram,” Armani announced proudly. “A very superheroine-esque move if I do say so myself.”
Amusement crinkled the edges of Patrick’s eyes, and he had to clear his throat before he spoke. “Might want to have the techs swab the battering ram.”
Brian nodded.
“You shouldn’t stay here,” Patrick told Armani gently. “Is there somewhere you can go?”
“Like Bermuda? Or the Bahamas?” Armani asked with a wink.
Patrick tilted his head to the side, stress wrinkles erupting across his forehead.
“She’s staying with me,” I told him quickly. “She was going to stay at the B&B even before the encounter with the intruder.”
“Encounter,” Brian huffed indignantly.
I frowned at him. “Hey, you’re the one who had her call me from the police station. I was just playing chauffer.”
“Police station?” Patrick interjected curiously.
Armani laid her hand over her heart, tossed back her shampoo-commercial-worthy hair and declared dramatically, “I was a victim of the Soliloquy robbery.”
While his expression didn’t change, I sensed a new level of tension in the redhead as he said, “You’ve had an interesting night.”
Armani nodded. “It’s been traumatic. That’s why I’m going to stay with Maggie.”
“That’s a good idea,” Patrick told her. He looked to me. “We’ll have patrols in your neighborhood stepped up.”
I nodded and said “thank you” despite the fact I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of an increased police presence with my father coming back to town.
“Now, if you don’t mind,” Brian said, “I’d like to take Armani through her home so that she can tell me if anything’s missing.”
Armani pushed herself off the car. “Let’s go.” She limped determinedly toward the broken door.
Brian quickly fell into step beside her.
Patrick hesitated for a moment, his eyes meeting mine. “Be careful,” he warned beneath his breath before following them.
I didn’t think he was warning me about what I might find in the house. I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to be more alert because of Detective Griswald’s involvement or because of Armani’s string of bad luck.
Either way, I had the distinct impression he was worried that I was in danger.
“Absolutely,” God whispered from his hiding place in my bra. “Be careful.”
Chapter Four
Nothing was missing from Armani’s place as far as she could tell, so Brian allowed her to pack an overnight bag and leave with me.
The sun was up, and I smelled coffee brewing when we walked into the B&B.
“You can stay in Katie’s room,” I told Armani. I’d carried her luggage from the car so it would be easier for her to navigate her way into the B&B. Now, I led the way down the hall and chucked it unceremoniously onto the pink princess bed where my niece Katie had slept when she’d lived in the house.
Armani followed me. “Thanks, Maggie. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
Her voice was strained and her gaze was dull, a frightening combination in my normally vivacious friend.
“You’d go stay in the penthouse suite at the best hotel in town,” I teased lightly, trying to cheer her up.
She offered me a half-smile in response.
“I’ve got to let the dog out. Then we’ll get you settled.”
Armani nodded, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to her overnight bag.
I hurried out, rushing to take care of DeeDee, my Doberman, so that I could get back to my friend.
“You’re up early,” Templeton, my aunt Loretta’s fiancé, remarked as I rushed through the kitchen.
“Did you make a full pot of coffee?” I asked hopefully, doing my best to ignore the man’s buttercream silk pajamas.
“Of course.” Templeton reached for a cup for me.
“Gotta! Gotta!” DeeDee whined from the other side of the door that led from the kitchen to the basement.
“Can you pour two for me?” I let the dog out of the basement and ushered her to the outside door. “Stay out of trouble,” I called as she bounded outdoors.
I turned back to Templeton, who’d managed to pour me two cups of coffee without asking why.
“Armani’s going to be staying here for a little while,” I offered as an explanation.
“Why?” Piss, my one-eyed cat, asked curiously.
Templeton looked at the meowing feline who’d slipped through the door out of the basement. “Cream, Miss Piss?”
“Please,” she purred.
I did a double-take for a moment, wondering if by some miracle Templeton, too, could converse with animals.
“It’s our daily routine,” Piss told me. “Every day he gives me some cream. Well, technically, it’s half-and-half, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
Templeton shook his head as he carefully poured a tiny bit of white liquid into the well of a saucer. “My, she’s got a lot to say this morning.”
The cat licked her lips in anticipation. “Why is Armani staying?”
“She ran into a little trouble and Brian Griswald thinks it best she not stay at home,” I explained.
Templeton put the saucer down on the ground. “I wonder what his uncle will have to say about that. Have you heard from them?”
I shook my head. I hadn’t heard from Aunt Susan or her fiancé, U.S. Marshal Lawrence Griswald.
“Strange,” Templeton muttered.
The concern in his tone put me on edge as we watched the cat lap up the liquid.
“Do you think something’s wrong?” I asked carefully. I had my own suspicions that Susan might be ill, but I was interested to know what was bothering Templeton.
He shrugged. “Just out of character for them to up and disappear without checking in.”
“They didn’t disappear,” I reminded him. “You knew they were going away.”
He nodded. “But when was the last time your aunt was able to mind her own business for more than a couple of hours?” He slapped a hand over his mouth guiltily, aware that the question could have offended me.
I waved off his worry. “You’ve got a point.”
“Now, they’ve been gone for days and haven’t checked up even once.”
“It is unusual,” I admitted.
“Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I mind having a little peace and privacy, it’s just that it’s weird considering how nosy and bossy they both are.”
I chuckled at the accurate description. “Maybe you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“Oh, I’m not. In her absence I’ve been painting in the dining room.” He glanced at me nervously. “I’ve been very careful not to get paint on anything, but it’s so nice to be able to spread out my palette and brushes.”
“You’re quite the renaissance man, Templeton.”
He ducked his head shyly. “I do like to dabble in a wide variety of activities from painting to pugilism.”
“Impressive,” I murmured, even though I imagined his boxing was probably anything but.
“Loretta’s worried about Susan,” he admitted. “That’s the only reason I care.”
“How worried?” I asked nervously.
“Worried enough that she left the house without her eyelashes yesterday.”
I gasped. Aunt Loretta and her fake lashes were never apart. Maybe this apprehension of theirs deserved more attention than I’d been paying.
“We should put Armani in Katie’s room,” Templeton suggested. “Less stairs for her to traverse that way.”
“I already did,” I told him, picking up the two cups of coffee he’d poured. “Has anyone tried calling Susan?”
Templeton nodded. “Both Loretta and Marlene.”
“Why?” I asked suspiciously. “Is something wrong with Marlene, too?”
Templeton shook his head. “How should I
know? The women in this family are all so high-strung.”
I arched an eyebrow at him.
“Except you, my dear,” he added hurriedly.
“HA!” God bellowed from his hiding place in my bra.
He’d been so quiet that I’d forgotten the little guy was even there. His outburst startled me. I jumped, sloshing coffee everywhere.
Piss darted over and began licking it off the floor.
“Great,” Templeton moaned. “All we need in this house is a caffeinated cat.”
“And a psychic who doesn’t know who it is that’s out to get her,” God added.
Chapter Five
“Do you think I should invest in worm jerky or worm tea?” Armani asked as I handed her a half-empty cup of coffee.
I collapsed onto Katie’s pink princess bed beside her. “Are those real things?”
“Worm tea is a natural fertilizer.”
Despite my better judgment, I asked, “And worm jerky?”
“Protein rich.” She sipped her coffee. “Hey, this is way better than what I usually get here.”
“Templeton made it. I’ve heard rumblings that he’s becoming some kind of coffee connoisseur.”
“Maybe he could give me some ideas about what to invest in.”
I just shrugged. I was of the opinion that Aunt Loretta’s fiancé was some kind of con man, but he’d also saved my life once, so I didn’t want to badmouth the guy. Besides, Armani used her psychic powers to win the lottery. She should probably use them to figure out where to invest her payout.
“Maybe I could start a food empire,” Armani mused.
“Maybe we could figure out who broke into your place,” I suggested gently.
She shrugged. “That’s your job, chica. Investigating falls under the responsibilities of my private PI.”
“That’s redundant.”
“What?”
“PI stands for private investigator so private PI is private private investigator. Redundant.”
She rolled her eyes at me, but a familiar face popped her head into the room before she could say anything.
“Armani!” my sister Marlene cried. “I thought I recognized your voice. What are you doing here?”
“Hiding out,” Armani replied blithely.
Marlene’s eyes widened. Considering she’d spent some years working as a prostitute and had had a violent pimp, she understood better than most the gravity of hiding out.
“Someone broke into her place,” I explained.
“And Maggie did some wild kung fu moves on him!” Armani exclaimed excitedly.
Marlene looked suitably impressed and more than a little concerned.
“I don’t know kung fu,” I told them both drily.
“Well, it looked like kung fu,” Armani pouted.
I doubted that but didn’t argue with her. “So, she’s going to stay here for a couple of days until the cops figure out what’s going on.”
“Or until my private PI does,” Armani countered.
I gave her a warning look, not wanting Marlene to know about my newly invented investigational identity.
“Cool,” Marlene said. “We can hang out. Doc’s out of town and I’m bored.”
“Where is he?” I asked, curious as to where Marlene’s boyfriend had gotten to.
She made a face. “A stripping seminar.”
Armani guffawed. “Wish I could be—Hey!” she interrupted herself. “Maybe I should invest in male strippers.”
“Sounds better than worm jerky,” I muttered under my breath. I smiled at Marlene. “How long is he gone for?”
“Just a couple days.”
I nodded. I like Doc. He seems to be a stabilizing influence on my sometimes-wayward sister. He’s a good guy, putting himself thru med school by stripping. Plus, he doesn’t seem to be put off by my crazy family.
“Maybe we should all become partners,” Armani suggested.
“What kind of partners?” I asked nervously.
“In the male stripper empire.”
Marlene nodded excitedly. “That sounds awesome.” I left them to talk about taking over the world one g-string at a time and returned to the kitchen to let DeeDee back inside the house.
The Doberman ran inside, panting, “Hungry. Hungry.”
“She’s always hungry,” Piss complained.
Looking around, I spotted the cat curled up in a corner. “What about you, do you want breakfast?”
“Only if it can be consumed in silence.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You need some alone time?”
“Yes, sugar. It seems I never get a moment to myself.”
I nodded sympathetically. “I know the feeling.”
“I’m right here and I can hear you,” God groused from his bra hideout.
The cat sighed dramatically. “Maybe I’ll just sit outside and soak up some sun.”
“An excellent idea.” I opened the kitchen door for her and she streaked outside.
DeeDee looked at me expectantly.
I grabbed a couple of dog biscuits out of a jar on the counter and tossed them to her. While she ate, I refilled my coffee.
Templeton does make a damn good cup of coffee.
Then we descended the stairs into the basement.
“Hello. Hello. Hello,” a soft voice squeaked.
“Hi, Benny.” I strolled over to look into the white mouse’s enclosure, pleased that he seemed to be coming out of his shell. “Need anything?”
“Water. Water. Water. Please. Please. Please.”
“And it’s me the feline has to get away from,” God drawled bitterly.
“Hush,” I admonished. “Fresh water, coming up.”
After I’d put the lizard in his terrarium and taken care of the mouse, I flopped onto the couch and stared into space.
“I thought you were going to get a legit job,” God issued the challenge while stretched out on a piece of driftwood.
“PIs are legit. Besides, don’t you think it’s an awfully suspicious coincidence that she was robbed twice in one night? Somebody needs to figure out what’s going on.”
“But you’re not a private investigator. You’re a private PI.”
“What am I supposed to do, not help my friend?”
“Let Detective Griswald help her.”
“I will.”
“Pffffftttt.”
I glared at him. “I’d expect someone with your intellect to have a better vocabulary than that.”
“Why bother? It’s not like you listen.”
With that, he turned his back on me.
And I took a couple of moments to enjoy the silence as I worried about who was targeting my friend and why.
The silence was short-lived.
“Maggie! Maggie!” a voice called desperately from the backyard. “Come quick!”
“Trouble. Trouble. Trouble!” Benny squeaked nervously.
“Wrong what?” the Doberman barked.
DeeDee and I collided as we raced for the storm cellar steps. Getting body slammed by a big dog is a lot like a quarterback getting sacked. It knocks the wind out of you, and fast. I slowly got back on my feet, wondering if she’d bruised my ribs.
“Bad oops my,” the dog apologized, licking my hand.
“Oops, my bad,” the lizard automatically corrected.
I shoved her out of the way, scrambled up the steps, hit the doors hard, and raced into the backyard.
The cat sat a few yards away.
“Are you hurt?” I asked.
“Not me, sugar. Follow me!” Turning, she trotted quickly toward the rear of the property.
“Is it Katie?” I called, suddenly terrified that something had happened to my beloved niece who lived next door. My heartbeat stuttered at the horrible idea.
“Katie!” DeeDee raced ahead of me, catching up with the cat and passing her.
Piss looked over her shoulder to make sure I was still following. “It’s not Katie.”
At the very rear of th
e property, against the back fence, I saw him.
He swayed weakly, but managed to croak, “How’s it going, toots?”
I approached the crow carefully. “What’s wrong, Mike?”
“I caught some hot lead.” He lifted his wing so that I could see the small bleeding hole in his chest.
“Who shot you?” I asked.
Instead of answering, he let out a croaking groan of pain.
“You’ve got to help him, sugar,” Piss implored.
“Help!” DeeDee agreed on a sad whine.
I looked at the bird, unsure of what to do. It’s not like I’m an expert on avian first aid. “What should I do?”
“Get it out,” the bird begged, dropping his usually cocky façade.
“I can try,” I offered tentatively as he wobbled on the fence-top.
“Bring him inside,” Piss urged.
I extended my arm, like I’d seen on TV, hoping his talons wouldn’t tear me apart. Gingerly, he climbed on. It pinched and I had no doubt it would leave marks, but it wasn’t agonizing.
I carefully crossed the lawn, balancing the injured bird as Piss and DeeDee led the way. I carried Mike down the stairs and into the basement.
Ruffling his feathers, he turned his head this way and that, nervously surveying his surroundings as I gently set him down on the table. He teetered, unsteady on his feet.
“What are you doing now?” God asked from his enclosure. “Taking up falconry in your spare time?”
“He’s hurt,” I said softly, not liking the dull glaze that was settling over the bird’s eyes.
“She’s going to operate,” Piss added.
“Wonderful,” the lizard drawled. “She’s going to magically add veterinary surgeon to her list of job skills?”
“That’s an idea. I could take him to a vet.”
“No,” Mike gasped. “No hospitals. If word gets out that I’m hurt…”
“Who’s going to care?” God asked.
“No hospital,” the bird repeated. “Do it here.”
“Back room surgeries have a high incidence of fatalities,” God warned.
“And I’ve never operated on a bird before,” I added nervously.
“As opposed to the brain surgery she performs on a regular basis,” the lizard replied drily.
“You’re not helping,” Piss said, extending her claws and taking a few menacing steps toward his glass terrarium.