The Mysteries of Bell & Whitehouse: Books 1-3 (The Mysteries of Bell & Whitehouse Box Sets)

by Nic Saint

  Alice finished her perusal of the article. “Do you think Jerry’s behind this?”

  Felicity shrugged. “No idea, but it’s quite a coincidence, don’t you think?”

  “I think this doesn’t mean anything, Fee. For all we know the mayor could be a secret faster.”

  But Felicity tapped her nose. She’d learned to trust her instincts, just the way Rick had taught her, and her instincts told her this stank to high heavens. “We need to find out more about these hairdressers. My gut tells me Jerry and Johnny have gone into the pet grooming business.”

  “Why don’t you call Chazz? He’ll know what his goons are up to.”

  That was a great idea, though she was loathe to put in a call now, in the middle of the night. Chazz liked his beauty sleep as much as the next real estate tycoon. “I’ll call him in the morning.”

  “Whatever,” muttered Alice. She was still acting as apathetic as ever.

  “I think you need to get this Reece business out of your head, honey,” she said as they walked back to the entrance. “This whole episode is preying on your mind, and frankly I’m worried about you.”

  Alice sighed. “I need to get over him, that’s all. I just can’t believe he would screw me over like this. I really thought he liked me, you know. He even dropped the L-word last week.”

  This didn’t surprise Felicity. Reece had appeared smitten with Alice. In fact she’d never seen a happier couple. And she was just about to suggest some strategy of coping with this grief, when a loud voice arrested their progress, and a powerful light was shone in their faces.

  “Freeze! Put your hands where I can see them!”

  It was the voice of Chief Whitehouse, and both she and Alice heaved groans of exasperation. Not again!

  Chapter 24

  Rick blinked, and croaked, “What’s that smell?”

  “What smell?”

  “Exactly.”

  It smelled like burned meat, and then he realized it was he who smelled this way. Oh, God, he had gone and touched that fence, hadn’t he? In spite of Virgil’s warning he had to go and be the hero. “I guess you were right, Virgil,” he said, trying to sit up and failing at the first attempt. “They did put juice on that fence.”

  “You’re lucky to be alive, you know that?” Virgil spoke tersely. “You could have gotten yourself killed, and where would that have left me?”

  “It takes more than a fence to kill me,” he said, this time succeeding in sitting up. He shook his head, and thought someone was ringing a bell somewhere in the vicinity, but then realized it was inside his head. He stared dumbly at his partner. “God, that was quite a shock.”

  “Yeah, you can say that again,” agreed Virgil, now heaving a sigh of relief. “How are you feeling?”

  He smacked his lips. “I could use some water.”

  “Well, we don’t have any water.” Virgil looked around. “Good thing no one noticed your shenanigans, or this place would be swarming with security.” He shivered. “Can you imagine what would happen if they caught me? A cop trying to break into the power plant?” He shook his head. “I must have been crazy listening to you.” He stood. “This adventure is over, Rick. We’re out of here, right now.”

  “But we haven’t taken a single picture yet,” he protested.

  “And we’re not going to. From now on we’re doing this by the book. I’m going to talk to the chief—”

  “But you can’t!”

  “—and tell him that I’ve discovered that there’s a serious problem with the plant. I won’t tell him where I got the information but I will simply insist that he take a look for himself. I’m sure that once he ascertains the veracity of Mark Stokely’s story, he’ll notify the proper authorities, and the plant will be shut down pending an investigation.”

  Rick nodded. Virgil was right, of course. This whole ‘let’s try to fix this problem by ourselves’ was probably silly. “You’re right.” Then he looked up. “Can I at least have the scoop?”

  Virgil frowned. As a small-town cop he wasn’t used to this close cooperation with the ladies and gentlemen of the press. But he didn’t see any issue with Rick writing about this story in whatever publication he saw fit, so he said, “Sure. I think the public has a right to know what’s going on. But first we talk to the chief.”

  “Fair enough.” With Virgil’s help he gingerly stood, and stared at the cooling towers, rising up into the night, untouchable behind the fence. He still felt it would have made for a much bigger story if he’d gotten the picture and had been able to break the story before the authorities got involved. But Virgil was right, of course. There was simply too much at stake here, and his journalistic ambitions had to take a backseat to the common good.

  “Let’s talk to the chief now,” he suggested, “and get this over with.”

  “Now? Are you crazy? The man’s probably asleep!”

  It was obvious that Virgil wasn’t about to wake a sleeping giant.

  “But this is an emergency, Virgil. We need to act fast. This place could blow any second.”

  But the policeman stood his ground. “This plant has probably been crumbling for years now. Fissures don’t appear overnight. I’m sure these towers will still be standing there tomorrow.”

  Rick sighed. He knew when he was beaten. He admired the view of the towers one last time. “Let’s get out of here,” he then suggested.

  “That’s the most sensible thing you’ve said all night,” opined Virgil.

  Just then, his phone rang, and he picked it from his pocket with a frown. “It’s the chief,” he told Rick, a note of surprise in his voice.

  “Apparently he’s not asleep after all,” Rick muttered.

  Virgil listened for a moment, then his eyes slowly swiveled to Rick. Without a word, he disconnected, and stared, as if struck dumb.

  “What is it?” Rick asked, a feeling of foreboding stealing over him.

  “It’s Alice and Fee.”

  “What about them? Speak, man!”

  The policeman’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down for a moment, then he rasped, “They’ve been arrested.”

  Chapter 25

  Felicity furiously paced her cell. “What nerve!” she cried.

  “Yeah, that’s Dad for you,” said Alice quietly. She hadn’t moved from the bench on which she’d plunked herself down.

  “How could he?”

  “We were breaking into a government building,” Alice pointed out.

  “Yes, well, but only because he’s too stubborn to let us in on the investigation.”

  A sound near the door had them both looking up. The chief in question had arrived. “So. What do you have to say for yourself, Bell?” he demanded.

  “Come on, Dad,” said Alice with an eyeroll, “are we really doing this?”

  “I’ll talk to you later, young lady,” he replied, then directed a forceful eye at Felicity. “This is the second time I’ve caught you snooping around my investigation, Fee. But this time you’ve really done it.”

  “Done what? Try to help out the mayor? On his authority?”

  The chief frowned. “What do you mean on his authority?”

  “Exactly what it sounds like. We’re working for Mayor MacDonald. Where else do you think I got the key to Town Hall?”

  He drew himself up to his full height. “If you are really working for the mayor, why didn’t he tell you about the silent alarm?”

  “Well, of course he told us,” riposted Felicity. “I guess I forgot.”

  The chief displayed a grimace. “You forgot. And I’m supposed to buy that cockamamie story?”

  “No, you don’t have to believe our story. Just talk to the mayor. Go on. Call him. He’ll confirm that we’re working for him.”

  “Working for him how? Sneaking into Town Hall in the middle of the night? I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, for God’s sakes, Dad.”

  “You hold your tongue, young lady.”

  “Or what? I’m grounded?” snee
red Alice, who was clearly in as lousy a mood as her pater.

  The chief’s face reddened. “I’ll do more than ground you. I’ll—I’ll—” Since the situation was quite new to both the chief and his recalcitrant daughter, he didn’t seem to know how to punish her this time. It was not as if she’d been caught smoking a cigarette in the toilet. Or refusing to eat her Brussels sprouts.

  “Look, just call Ted and ask him, will you? I want to go home now.”

  “That’s Mayor MacDonald to you, Bell,” the chief grumbled, but he did return to the office, hopefully to get in touch with the mayor.

  Felicity sagged on the bench next to Alice. “I just hope Rick and Virgil have better luck.”

  “Well, you did find out about Jerry Vale, didn’t you? Now all we need to know is where he’s holed up and we might be able to get Moe back. And if Moe’s back, Mabel and the mayor can reconcile, and Mark can tell the mayor what’s going on at the plant, and all will be well.”

  It summed up the situation to a T, and yet Alice seemed absolutely uninterested in any of it, and Felicity knew why. She placed a soothing hand on her friend’s shoulder. “You’ll get over him, honey, I promise.”

  Alice nodded morosely. “I never knew love could hurt so much,” she said quietly, and Felicity winced. Damn that Reece Hudson, she thought. She wished they’d never laid eyes on the man.

  Chapter 26

  Reece was pacing the floor of his pad in the hills furiously. He was engaged in conversation with his agent. “Listen, Jeff, I really need to get back to New York. Can you postpone those meetings at the studio?”

  “No can do, buddy,” spoke the ever efficient agent. “We’ve postponed those meets twice already. We can’t keep jerking those people’s chains. They’ll start thinking you’re bailing on them. Again.”

  Reece drew an annoyed hand through his mane. “I know, I know.”

  “It took me forever to convince them you were committed to the project. If you back out now, the deal is off. Finished. Kaput. The end.”

  “I understand. Just…let it go on, then.”

  “Can I rely on you being there, Reece, buddy?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he sighed. “I’ll be there.”

  He emitted an exasperated groan. He was stuck in LA for the time being, what with meetings at the studio at a critical point. If he really wanted to end his career, he simply had to walk out now, but if he did, he would have a very hard time getting it back on track.

  He knew there had to be a way to make it up to Alice. He understood now why she was so upset. He would be upset if he found out she’d been getting together with her old boyfriend behind his back.

  Alice must have freaked when she saw that email. And of course it was his own fault. He should have changed his password a long time ago. He didn’t even remember giving it to Dorothy in the first place.

  They’d only dated for a couple of weeks before her true nature had revealed itself to him. She was ambitious, gorgeous, and one of the most successful women on the planet, but in real life she was simply not a very nice person, and that was quite an understatement.

  And then there was Alice. Sweet-natured, lovely, beautiful Alice. He’d fallen for her the moment they met—or rather met again, for he must have met her at his dad’s farm when she was still a gangly teenager. Now, though, she’d certainly caught his eye, and his heart.

  When his phone rang he instantly picked up. This was the call he’d been waiting for.

  “Rufus. I thought you’d never call.”

  “Been kinda busy, Reece. What with spying on North Korea and other rogue nations and all.”

  “Sorry to be taking up your time.”

  “Nah, I’m actually glad you called. You want to fix Dorothy Valour, huh? Beats listening in on Kim Jong-un’s tedious phone calls.”

  Rufus Wainwright, an old college buddy of Reece’s, worked for the NSA these days. If anyone could get to the bottom of ‘Dorothygate’, it was him. In a few brief words he explained what had happened, and wasn’t surprised when Rufus’s hacking laugh sounded over the phone.

  “She’s one nasty number, that ex of yours. So she sent your girlfriend an email, huh? Nice!” He laughed uproariously again.

  “It’s not funny, Rufus. Alice broke up with me over that email.”

  “Of course she did.”

  “Look, do you want to help me out or not?”

  “Depends. What’s in it for me if I do?”

  “I’ll…get you a lifetime subscription to a high def movie cloud service.”

  “Not interested. Already got access to all the movies I want.”

  Of course. Rufus could probably hack his way into any major studio and watch movies before their release date. What could he possibly offer the man? “What about I set you up on a date with Carrie Fisher?”

  The sudden and deafening silence on the other end of the line told him that he’d struck a chord. Then Rufus’s croaky voice sounded. “Can you really do that?”

  “Of course I can.”

  Rufus cleared his throat. “You set me up for a date with Princess Leia and I’ll do anything for you, Reece. Anything at all. I’ll even transfer all of Kim Jong-un’s funds to a Swiss bank account of your choice.”

  “Just do this one little thing for me, all right?”

  “Will do, buddy. Will do,” said Rufus, a sudden awe in his voice. “Princess Leia. Wow,” he breathed before disconnecting.

  He just hoped that Carrie would go along with this. Rufus might be one of the NSA’s top IT guys, but he wasn’t sure the man was fit for human consumption. But then again, Miss Fisher didn’t have to sit through the whole date. If things got really bad, she could always bail.

  He walked over to the window, looking out across the Hollywood hills, and thought hard thoughts about Dorothy Valour. He just hoped that Alice would listen to reason and accept his innocence in all of this.

  Somehow, he doubted that she would.

  Chapter 27

  I can’t go on like this,” lamented Jerry. He’d just entered his fifth day of fasting, and frankly he was getting fed up with his wife’s instructions, and her constant barrage of messages, emails and encouraging selfies. Before he headed out to Long Island she’d handed him a thermos of herbal tea, a pot of honey and a spoon, and that was it. That was all the nourishment he was allowed to take for the next forty-eight hours.

  “I’m sorry, Jer,” said Johnny from the bottom of his heart as he took a bite from a huge Gouda sandwich with extra mustard on top. “It’s tough. Really tough.”

  Marlene, Jerry’s wife, had pushed him into this fasting thing once before, but Jerry had quickly found a way out, in the form of a piece of cake baked by none other than Flour Girl herself, Felicity Bell.

  But this time Marlene had made him swear he would keep up with his fast and not fall off the wagon. And to that end she made him weigh himself every day, under her critical eye, and if he gained so much as a single ounce, she knew he was cheating again, just like last time.

  And then there was the tongue test, of course. According to Marlene if he did his fast well, his tongue should turn white. And if the white disappeared, it meant his body was cleansing. Last time he’d resorted to brushing his tongue before going home, but she’d quickly discovered the ruse when she smelled the toothpaste on his breath. This time she subjected his tongue to close scrutiny, looking for brush marks.

  So there really was no way out. He had to go through with this horrible fast. Added to that the stress of having to birdsit the parrot from hell, and his mood was about as foul as it had ever been.

  “Dumb-ass! Dumb-ass! Dumb-ass!”

  “Really, Jerry,” groaned Johnny, one eye on the parrot, “can’t we just kill the damn beast and tell the mayor he got bird flu or sumpin?”

  He eyed his partner critically. “When are you going to get it into your nut that we need the bird alive, Johnny? If we hand the mayor a dead parrot word will get out that the Pet Bandits are a bunch of pet killers
, and they will stop paying us.”

  “He’ll want the carcass back.”

  “I doubt even this idiot will pay a hundred grand for a dead parrot.”

  Johnny muttered something unintelligible, once again sinking his teeth into his monster sandwich.

  Jerry watched him devour the treat, and a sudden rage swept through him. “Can’t you eat someplace else? You’re killing me here, Johnny. You’re really killing me!”

  “Sorry, Jer,” muttered Johnny, turning a quarter.

  “I can still see you, you moron!”

  “Dumb-ass! Dumb-ass! Dumb-ass!”

  Johnny now turned his back on Jerry. “Better, Jer?” he mumbled between two bites. For a moment only munching sounded, and Jerry pulled at the few hairs that were still remaining on his head.

  “I can still hear you!”

  “Dumb-ass! Dumb-ass! Dumb-ass!”

  “But, Jer! I need to eat. Otherwise I’ll lose my strength.”

  Jerry rolled his eyes and rose from the chair so quickly his blood pressure dropped precipitously and he experienced the dizzy spell to end all dizzy spells. He grasped the chair in a bid to stay upright. Ever since he’d started on this fast he’d had trouble sleeping, and when he was awake, he was feeling weak all the time, his legs barely able to carry his weight. He cursed his wife, cursed this stupid parrot, and cursed a fate that had saddled him with a partner who was an eating machine.

  He walked to the window of the small room they occupied at the Happy Bays Inn, and stared out. In spite of the darkness he could see that it was raining again, the weather mimicking his mood exactly. They’d stayed here last time, but that was before the inn’s owners, some old couple, had been killed by a maniac.

  Which was another thing that troubled him greatly. According to the cleaning lady—whom he’d given a big, fat tip to stay out of their room—this was where two people had been butchered a few short weeks ago. She’d even pointed to the floor where the bodies had lain, and even though he and Johnny had no compunction to punch someone’s lights out now and again, they’d never resorted to murder. Knowing that two people had died in this very room frankly gave him the willies.