Thugs and Kisses

by Sue Ann Jaffarian

  “And that stuff with the legal documents just backs it all up?”

  “Exactly.” I remembered the statements in my bag. “I have Steele’s checking account number and his credit card numbers. I was going to ask my friend Detective Frye if the police could run them and see if they’ve been used lately and where. Wouldn’t that show something? I mean, Steele did withdraw three hundred dollars from his checking account just before he left town, but that wouldn’t get him very far unless he was also using his credit cards or bank card.”

  “It’s something to look at, but again, if he’s on the run, he would have gotten new cards with his new identity. If his cards are being used, chances are it’s by someone who stole them, but that might net you some answers.”

  I looked at my watch. Sally was due here in just under thirty minutes. “Willie, I have to run. Someone’s meeting me in a few minutes about Donny Oliver. You’ve been a big help, thanks.”

  “One last thing, little mama. Let me run those cards for you. I have resources and contacts the police can only dream about. If these cards are being used, I’ll find out faster and maybe even find the person who is using them.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It would be my pleasure.”

  Another thought crossed my mind. “While you’re at it, Willie, could you also look into two companies for me—Silhouette Candies and Sweet Kiss Confections? These are the two companies involved in the lawsuit. To be honest, I can’t figure out for the life of me what motive Steele would have to tank his own client and turn on the firm.”

  “Money, what else?”

  “Maybe in your case, but it doesn’t make sense for Steele—not unless he was in some sort of a jam, but even then it’s hard to imagine.”

  “Give me this guy’s full name; I’ll look into him as well. And what’s the name of that cleaning company that lied to you? Might as well throw them in for good measure.”

  “Let Mother Do It? Don’t waste your time. It’s just a cleaning and errand company run by an old lady. She probably had a senior moment and forgot they’d done work for Steele.”

  “You never know. What kind of a snoop would you be if you didn’t look at every lead?”

  He had a good point. “I’ll take care of that, then,” I told him. “I can easily check it out online to see if it’s registered with the Secretary of State or filed as a fictitious business name. It would have to be one or the other to be legally doing business in the state under a name like that.”

  I gave Willie what details I could off the top of my head about the two companies in the lawsuit, along with Steele’s full name, birth date, and the numbers of his credit cards and checking account from the information I’d taken from his home. When I was done, I thanked Willie from the bottom of my heart.

  He laughed. “Now run along, little mama, and stick your nose into that murder. Leave the missing person stuff to me for now.”

  I wasn’t quite ready when my doorbell rang just before two o’clock. After speaking with Willie, I gave Zee a quick call to touch base. She’d been very worried about me since the break up with Greg, but I’d been so busy with the Steele matter we hadn’t had time to get together. I promised to call her tomorrow and to take care of my cold, and assured her I was doing fine under the circumstances. I never mentioned Sally or the upcoming visit to Donny’s widow, and I certainly never mentioned my call to Willie Porter.

  “Be right there,” I called in the direction of the door as I slipped into a new nubby-textured cream and black knit cardigan sweater. I had worn jeans to the office, but once home I had done a quick change into a pair of nice black trousers and a black knit short-sleeved jersey. My sneakers were replaced by black suede flats and long, black trouser socks. I felt like crap, but I didn’t look half-bad.

  After grabbing my tote bag, I opened the door, ready to climb into Sally’s Jeep and hit the road. Instead, I almost hit the floor.

  The person at my door wasn’t Sally. In fact, it wasn’t even a person. On the other side of the door sat Wainwright in all his golden furry glory. Hanging from his mouth by a black strap was a plastic pumpkin bucket, the kind kids would carry trick-or-treating three days from now.

  “Trick or treat,” a voice said from out of my range of vision. “If you’ve got the treats,” it continued, “I can do some tricks.” Then, on cue, Wainwright sat up and whimpered.

  I was close to whimpering myself.

  When the big dog sat back down, I threw my arms around his neck and gave him a squeeze. I had missed his soft fur and doggy smell. Still hugging the dog, I turned my head to see Greg sitting just to the side of the door. I wanted to squeeze and smell him, too, but held back.

  “So, do you do tricks for treats, too?” I asked Greg.

  “Depends on the treats.”

  I smiled, remembering both our tricks and treats in happier times.

  He smiled and studied me. “You look very nice. You on your way out?”

  “Yes, I am. A girlfriend is picking me up any minute. I thought that’s who was at the door.”

  An awkward silence settled over us. I didn’t know if I should invite him in, at least just until Sally arrived, or if I should rush him off before she arrived. My decision was made for me when Seamus, standing behind me a few feet inside the door, meowed a greeting. Without further ado, Wainwright dropped his bucket, pushed past me, and trotted inside, where he immediately began slobbering over the cat.

  I turned to Greg. “Would you like to come in, too? At least just until Sally arrives.”

  He answered by rolling toward the door. I stepped aside so he could maneuver the doorway better. Once he was inside, I closed the door, but he didn’t move deeper into the house. Instead, he reached up, tugged on the front of my sweater, and gently pulled my face down toward his own. Once in range, he kissed my cheek, letting his lips linger against my face. I had to struggle not to cry.

  “Be careful,” I warned him. “I have a cold.”

  “A cold I gave you.” He looked deep into my eyes. “Seems only fair for you to give it back.” With that, he planted a hungry kiss directly on my mouth. When it was done, we rested forehead to forehead. “I’ve missed you so much, sweetheart,” he told me in a whisper.

  Part of me wanted to crawl into his lap and never leave, both of us wheelchair bound for the rest of our lives. Instead, I stood straight and backed away a few steps.

  “I’ve missed you, too, Greg. I’ve missed you a lot.”

  I hesitated, wondering if I should say what was on my mind or leave it for when we had more time. But me being me, I plowed ahead, caution be damned. “Is our break over, Greg?”

  When he didn’t answer, I continued. “Was today the big day, the day scheduled for you to forgive me? Did I neglect to write it on my calendar?”

  He hung his head in a gesture I knew well. It was a gesture of frustration—not with himself, but with other people. This time, I’m sure he was frustrated with me.

  “Don’t be like that, Odelia,” he said, finally raising his head to look at me. “I miss you, and I wanted to see you. I had hoped you would want to see me.”

  “I do, Greg, more than anything. But under the circumstances, I would have appreciated a call first to discuss how you feel instead of a surprise visit. Did you expect me to be overwhelmed with gratitude for this sudden change of heart?”

  “Odelia, please.”

  “No, Greg, you please.” I struggled to control my emotions while I spoke. “Please understand that I have been through hell for the past week, and you showing up like this throws me off what little emotional balance I have left. And since you haven’t bothered to call, you have no idea what else is going on around here. This entire week has been an absolute nightmare, and it isn’t all about you.”

  That got his attention.

  “What else is going on, Odelia? Is it Horten?”

  “My father is fine, Greg. Thank you for your concern.” I glanced at my watch and wondered about Sally. I r
eally wasn’t sure I wanted to get into it with Greg right now, but I decided to forge ahead—no time like the present. “Mike Steele is missing.”

  For a moment, Greg’s mouth hung open like an airplane hangar.

  “Steele is missing,” I continued. “His car was found abandoned at LAX. Important documents have been tampered with, and people think he did it and skipped the country.”

  “And what do you think?”

  “I think something bad has happened to him, and he’s being set up to look like he tampered with the documents.”

  “Something bad?”

  “Yes, Greg, something bad—as in maybe he’s even dead.”

  I tried to stop myself from cascading into the depths of snotty bitchhood, I really did, but in the end I failed. “Remember, I’m a corpse magnet.”

  We stared at each other—me, indignant and sniffling, and Greg, in shock. Just then, my doorbell rang, making us both jump a little. It was Sally. I introduced them, then told Sally I’d be out in a minute. After she returned to her Jeep, I studied Greg before speaking. He studied me in return; both of us, I’m sure, sizing up the terrain, wondering if we had the stuff to continue traveling our previous path. I was the one who broke the short silence.

  “Sally is one of my high-school friends. We are on our way to pay our respects to Donny Oliver’s wife.” Again, I wondered if I should leave it at that, knowing that Greg would find visiting a grieving widow acceptable. But again, I couldn’t stop my big fat mouth. “Both Sally and I, especially Sally, are on the suspect list for the murder, so we’re also hoping to uncover some information to help us prove we had nothing to do with it.”

  Greg started to say something, but I stopped him.

  “Yes, Greg, I’m back in the murder business, this time doing double duty between Donny and Steele, and I’ll make no apologies for it.”

  I gathered up my bag and opened the door. As I started over the threshold, I turned half around. “I really am glad to see you, Greg. I love you, and I hope when we have more time we can hammer all this out. But I can’t do that right this minute. Now please excuse me, and make sure you lock up when you leave.”

  “Everything okay back there?” Sally asked once we were on the freeway.

  “Who knows?”

  And that was the truth—who knew? Greg had made an overture of making up, and I had put him on hold. I felt great and devastated at the same time. I also resented that he seemed to think things could be patched up so easily, especially when nothing had changed. He was still going to hate the fact that from time to time I got sucked into a vortex of murder and mayhem, much as I tried to avoid it, and I was still going to stick my nose wherever people needed help.

  I mean, not that I really saw myself as some sort of middle-aged avenger for the dead, wrongfully accused, and missing, but given the opportunity, would Wonder Woman turn her red, white, and blue bustier-clad back on Sally and Steele?

  The Oliver home was located on a hillside in La Habra Heights. It took us just shy of an hour to reach it. It was a very large multi-level yellow house surrounded by lots of mature vegetation, and a winding brick path lead from the street, up the incline, to the front door. Hanging on the door was a fall wreath with a calico bow that gave the property a welcoming feel.

  We had to wait a few minutes after Sally rang the bell for the door to open. From the other side, we heard the barking of a dog and someone asking someone else to take it somewhere. When the door finally opened, we were face to face with a woman a bit younger than us, probably just past forty. She was trim and wore gray sweatpants and a pink tee shirt. Her blond hair was gathered up on her head haphazardly with a clip. In spite of the dark circles under her eyes, she was very attractive. Sally introduced her to me as Cindy Oliver and handed her the bundt cake.

  The inside of the house was inviting and cozy, with hardwood floors, and walls and furnishings in various earth tones, accented here and there with a splash of bright color. It had an upscale yet lived-in feel to it. From every window was a spectacular view.

  “It’s a nice day,” Cindy said. “Would you like to sit outside?”

  She showed us outside to a pleasant and well-tended deck overlooking a lower-level yard. The back yard was large but sloped with more mature vegetation, including tall eucalyptus trees bordering the property. At Cindy’s bidding, we sat at a round teak table while she disappeared inside with the cake. A moment later, she returned and settled in at the table. Soon after, an older version of Cindy appeared with a tray holding cups and saucers and a carafe. Several slices of the fresh cake were arranged on a small dish next to a stack of napkins.

  “I made some coffee for you ladies,” the woman said. “But if you prefer tea, just let me know.”

  “Coffee will be fine, thank you,” Sally said for the both of us.

  The woman gave us a small smile tinged with stress and sadness. “And thank you so much for the cake. Once the girls see it, it will be gone in a jiffy.”

  After the woman put down the tray, Cindy put a hand on the woman’s arm. “This is my mother, Carolyn Poppin. She and my father flew in right after … after it happened.” Cindy smiled up at the woman. “She’s been a godsend, especially with the girls.”

  Carolyn Poppin smiled down at her daughter and squeezed the hand on her arm. “I’ll let you ladies talk. Just don’t tire yourself too much, Cindy.”

  “How are you doing, Cindy?” Sally asked after Mrs. Poppin returned to the house.

  “Okay, I guess, but it has been much more difficult for the girls.”

  “They around?”

  “No, my dad took them to the movies to keep their minds off things.”

  Sally hesitated but continued. I could tell she wasn’t used to pressing people when it came to personal matters—unlike me, who was fast turning it into a second career. “Cindy, you know there was no love lost between Donny and me, but please know I hold no hard feelings against you and the girls.”

  “I know that, Sally. The girls and I have always liked you and Jill, and we’ve always considered Lucas part of our family.” She paused and looked off in the direction of the lower yard, then back at Sally. “I always felt he was wrong taking Lucas from you like that, but he wouldn’t listen to anyone. By the way, how is Lucas taking this?”

  “He’s doing well, thank you. In spite of everything, Donny was his father, so, of course, it’s natural for him to be having mixed feelings of both grief and relief.”

  Cindy nodded in understanding.

  After taking a couple of sips of the excellent coffee, I got down to business. “Cindy, why didn’t you go to the reunion with Donny that night?”

  She focused her tired blue eyes on me. “Are you also going to ask if I have an alibi?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “That’s what the police did. First, they wanted to know why I didn’t go with Donny to that stupid reunion. Next, they wanted to know where I was that night, who I was with, and if anyone could prove it.”

  “And you said?” Just as I asked the question, Sally deftly kicked me under the table. I shot her a semi-dirty look. After all, we didn’t come here for coffee and cake, we came here for answers. My attention settled back on Cindy, waiting for her answer to my question.

  Sally stepped in. “Cindy, you told me you didn’t go to the reunion because Donny said you’d cramp his style. What do you think he meant by that?”

  Cindy took a piece of cake and placed it on a napkin in front of her. She picked at the edges. “That reunion was important to Donny. It was his return to his glory days. He talked about it for weeks. I knew I’d end up sitting in a corner, bored into oblivion. It was better for both of us that I stayed home. Besides, it had been a long time since we’d gone anywhere as a couple, why pretend for that night?”

  “So you were home that night?” I asked.

  “Yes, Odelia, I was home that night. My two oldest daughters were with me. We ordered pizza, made popcorn, and watched movies. My youngest was a
t a sleepover. The pizza guy can confirm I was here, as can a neighbor who stopped by to say hello.”

  Despite Sally’s sturdy shoes and good aim, I persisted in my line of questioning. “Were you and Donny separated?”

  Cindy looked at Sally. “Nosy thing, isn’t she?”

  Before Sally could say anything, I jumped in. “Yes, I am, especially when I’ve been under suspicion myself, and so has Sally. I know I didn’t kill Donny. And I’m pretty sure Sally didn’t kill him, but you I don’t know.”

  Cindy Oliver leaned forward and locked eyes with me. “I didn’t kill my husband, Odelia, but I’m not sorry he’s dead. It saved me the trouble of a divorce.”

  “Is that a yes on the separation question?”

  Sally kicked me again. This time I turned on her, spitting ten-penny nails in spite of my cold.

  “You kick me one more time,” I warned her, “and I swear I’ll throw you over the edge of this deck. You asked for my help in clearing your name, and I’m doing just that. After all, I’m not the one who tried to kill Donny a few months ago, and I was dancing with a cop at the time of the murder, so it’s not like I’m here to save my fat ass.”

  Sally held up both hands, palms out, in surrender. “Since you put it that way, go right ahead.”

  Turning to Cindy, I gave her a look that I hoped would loosen her tongue. It did.

  “Donny and I were not separated,” she began. “At least not yet. But we were going our separate ways more and more. I was going to file for divorce right after Christmas. I would have sooner, but I didn’t want the girls to have to deal with that over the holidays.”

  I looked from Cindy to Sally, and back at Cindy. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  The two of them looked at me like I was crazy, which I was beginning to think myself. The incident with Greg and my increasing discomfort from my head cold had definitely put an edge on my already cranky demeanor.

  Returning to my questioning, I asked Cindy, “Why were you going to divorce him? I mean, I know he was an ass, but what specifically caused you to want to do it now instead of a year or two ago?”