by Lisa G Riley
“No, don’t do that,” Smith told him. “If you’re thinking it will get her to quit, I can tell you unequivocally that you’re wrong. I’ve never met anyone more stubborn than Lily, and if you stopped to think about it, you’d realize that you haven’t either.”
John sucked on the toothpick he’d stuck in his mouth. “I wish there was a better way to control that girl.”
Smith chuckled. “I’m still trying to figure out why you feel the need to try. Lily is an adult. Yes, she is your baby cousin, your baby girl cousin, the only one born this generation, blah, blah, blah… yada, yada, yada. Get the fuck over it. Jesus, can you imagine how you’d feel if everyone in your family treated you the way you treat Lily? What your life would be like? I bet that’s probably why she left and stayed in Chicago for so long.”
“A lot of kids leave home to explore. Lily did that and then found a job that kept here there.” John shrugged.
“Bullshit. Lily loves Sheffield-Chatham like I love Texas. It’s in her blood.”
“Yet, this isn’t Texas but here you sit,” John said and Smith could tell it was meant to be an opening for him to elaborate on why he’d left Texas. Smith didn’t take it.
John sighed. “At any rate; Lily’s home now. She came back.”
“Only because she loves the town, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she left again. You have to stop treating her like a child.”
“Have you?”
Smith thought about the time he’d spent with Lily the night before. “Oh, yeah,” he said, “long ago.”
“I’m not even going to ask what that’s supposed to mean,” John commented and pulled his chair forward. “So, tell me what you want, Smith.”
“I assume you guys already checked to see if Landry has a record.”
John nodded. “Yes, we have. The man is as clean as a whistle, never even got a traffic ticket.”
“Have you traced his credit card purchases over the last few days? Have any been made?”
“We’re in the process of doing that. Mrs. Landry has agreed to it, but there are still hoops to jump through.”
“You’ll let me know when you get something, yeah?”
“Sure, sure, but have you got a signed contract with Mrs. Landry? I’ll need to see it, and I’ll need to put in a call to her to make sure it’s okay to share information with you.”
“Understood. The contract’s in the car. I’ll go out and grab it after we’re done here. Now, let’s talk about Mr. Landry’s car.”
***
Lily skirted around the edges of Town Square as she made her way to The Tobacconist, a small high-end cigar shop. She’d determined that of all the shops ringing the Square, The Tobacconist was the most logical place for Mr. Landry to shop on a regular basis. It fit in with the view she was getting of him, that of a man of leisure. Furious, Lily muttered to herself and strode through several small crowds of people who were standing and talking in their own little groups.
“I can’t believe him!” Feeling slightly beat down after her encounter with Winscoff, Lily had decided to go see her cousin at the police station to find out about Landry’s credit cards and other things surrounding the case. But John had refused to see her, having his secretary tell her he was tied up in meetings. Lily knew he was lying because she’d snuck a peek at his calendar on the secretary’s computer, and had seen that he was free the entire afternoon. And what made matters worse was she knew he’d talked to Smith already. The secretary had mentioned it.
“Lying jerk,” she said under her breath as she pulled the door to the cigar shop open. The shop was fragrant with the smell of tobacco, of course, and crowded with humidors. There seemed to be one everywhere she looked. She almost bumped into a display touting a brand as ‘the best mild cigar for your money and smoking pleasure’. She avoided the humidor – just barely – right before noticing a woman of medium height dressed in green standing behind a counter. She was attractive with short black hair and eyes to match and a trim figure. Lily guessed her to be about her parents’ ages. She made her way towards her, grateful that she’d have the woman’s undivided attention as the store appeared to be empty of customers.
“Hi,” Lily said when the woman looked up and offered her a friendly smile.
“Hello, madam. How might I help you today? May I say that that is a stunning coat you’re wearing?”
Pleased, Lily preened as she fingered the red wool of her newest winter coat. It was classic in style with a line of small ruffles marching down the front so that when she closed it, the snaps were covered. The ruffles continued upward to wrap around the standing collar. She simply adored it. “Why, thank you. I got it --”
“Looking for a special Christmas present for that special man in your life?” the woman continued, “Father, husband, boyfriend, uncle?”
“No, thank you. I…” Lily paused as she thought about it. Her uncle Ray did like an occasional cigar. “Actually, yes, I might be looking, but first, I wondered if you would answer a few questions for me. My name is Lily Carstairs, I’m a private detective and I’m looking for someone.” She put the photo of Charles Landry face up on the counter. “Do you recognize this man? And if you do, when was the last time you saw him?”
The woman barely glanced at the photo. “That’s Charles Landry. He’s a regular customer, one of my best. And the last time he was in here was Friday apparently.”
Lily felt the spark of hope that had crept in her mind begin to fade. “Apparently?”
The woman nodded. “I’m Mrs. Tamara Popkin. I own the place, just opened it three years ago when I moved here after my grandfather died and left me the storefront. See, this used to be a haberdashery, but I decided that nobody was buying hats like they used to, so I thought I’d try something else and you’re looking at it. But I don’t guess you want to hear about all that, do you? You want to know about Mr. Landry. I said apparently because I wasn’t here on Friday, so I didn’t actually see him here.”
She went quiet and just looked at Lily as if that explained everything. Lily waited and finally realized she’d have to ask for the most important information. “Buuuut someone else was and did,” she guessed.
“Yes. My manager, Kip. See, I don’t work on Fridays. I like to get my weekends started early and on a positive note and some of my customers are so persnickety that it would be difficult to do that after dealing with them. But, Mr. Landers there?” She paused to tap her finger against the photo.
“He’s one of the nicest men I ever did meet. ‘Cause he’s quiet and polite, see. Sometimes, I don’t even know he’s here until I look up and he’s standing right there in front of me, if you take my meaning. It’s sorta eerie-like, you know what I mean? But other times I’ll catch a glimpse of him outside before he comes in and he’s just wandering around the Square or studying the old well, just like most people. But even then, I’m lucky if I see him because he’s just so ordinary… no, no, he’s less than ordinary, if you take my meaning. I guess I never thought about it before, but yeah, that’s what he is: less than ordinary. But even so, I’m real sorry that he’s gone missing, because even though he’s about as noticeable as white paint – if you get my meaning – he’s a likeable little guy.”
Lily squinted against the pain that suddenly pounded behind her eyes. “Uh, so is Kip here right now?”
“Yes, he’s here. Kip never misses a day of work.”
“May I talk to him?”
“Certainly, hon,” Mrs. Popkin said. “Come on around,” she told Lily and held a swinging half-door open for her. When Lily walked through, she let the door go. “He’s right back here. It’s kind of cramped, but you’re a skinny one, so you’ll fit.” She turned toward the door marked Office behind her. “Kip is back there with another private detective – a tall drink of Texan water, that one, and the way he fills out a pair of Levis…well, all I can say is it behooves me to remember that I’m a married woman,” she finished and turned back to Lily with a conspiratorial smile.
r /> Lily tried to smile back, but damn it, damn it, damn it! She’d figured that Smith had beaten her to this lead, as well. It stood to reason since he had gotten the case first, but she could still feel the slow boil of frustration over the fact starting to settle in. She sighed and waited for Mrs. Popkin to finish what she had been about to say when apparent near-adulterous lust had so rudely interrupted the thought process. “But you were saying,” Lily prompted.
Mrs. Popkin looked baffled for a moment and then chuckled. “That’s right; I was talking about something else, wasn’t I? My husband always tells me that nobody can go on and on about nothing like I can and I guess I have to agree with him. But anyway, he’s the one – that detective, not my husband – who told us that Mr. Landry is missing. And I don’t see why you can’t be back there in the same meeting with him and Kip, seeing as how you’re both looking for the same person.” She was reaching for the knob when the door opened. Smith sauntered out with a wide grin on his face. Lily rolled her eyes.
“Why, thank you, Mz. Popkin,” he drawled in a particularly heavy twang. “Nothin’ like opening the door to find a pretty woman waitin’ for you on the other side.”
Mrs. Popkin giggled, her brown skin blushing as brightly as a schoolgirl’s when Smith took her hand and kissed it. Arms folded, Lily had to fight to suppress her disgust.
“You’re welcome, Mr. Cameron, but it was nothing. I simply opened the door.”
Nevertheless, she offered Smith her other hand and he obligingly bent over to kiss it, making Lily grit her teeth to hold back a snort.
“It has been a real pleasure, Mz. Popkin,” Smith said before kissing her hand.
Mrs. Popkin was pressing her free hand to her chest, while she gushed. “Why, thank you, and that’s Mrs. Popkin, I’m afraid.”
“If you take her meaning,” Lily said dryly.
Smith straightened and looked at Lily. His wide smile turned speculative and then smug as he studied her. Lily stared back at him, her eyebrow lifted in challenge. “I want to thank you again, Mrs. Popkin,” Smith said, his gaze lingering on Lily for a long moment before he gave the proprietor his attention, “for allowing me to take your manager away from his duties for so long.”
Lily turned away, feeling like she could breathe again once he’d stopped looking at her. The intensity of his gaze had almost knocked her back a step. Grateful to have the few moments while he and Mrs. Popkin conversed, she took a few deep breaths in an effort to compose herself.
“Ms. Carstairs?”
Lily turned back at Mrs. Popkin’s call. “Yes?”
“Mr. Cameron was just telling me that you two know one another.”
Lily cut her eyes at Smith inquiringly before answering. “Yes, we’re acquainted.”
“Well, then, would it be all right if he told you everything Kip told him, or would you like to speak to Kip yourself? I ask because the shop could get busy at any time, and I’ll need Kip out here with me.”
Lily looked at Smith again, wondering what was going on. He only stood there smiling -- too enigmatically, in her opinion. She glared briefly at him before giving her attention back to Mrs. Popkin. “I’d feel more comfortable talking to Kip myself if you wouldn’t mind. And then afterward, I wonder if you’d be available for a short consultation on cigars? I’d like to buy some for one of my uncles.” Smith’s silent amusement at her attempt at bribery was so blatant that Lily gritted her teeth.
“And I have to be goin’ anyway, Mrs. Popkin. I’m afraid I don’t have time at just this moment for a long consult with the lovely Ms. Carstairs.” He tipped his hat. “Thank you again, Mrs. Popkin. Ms. Lily?”
Lily had turned away to go into the office, but now she turned back to look at him. His grin was far too smug for her peace of mind and she glared at him. “Yes?”
“Might I have just a minute? I won’t keep you long. It’s just a little shop talk.”
Her curiosity caught, Lily excused herself to Mrs. Popkin and followed Smith outside. “What is it Smith -- hey!”
He’d snagged her elbow and was dragging her away from the shop. When he finally stopped, she snatched her arm away from him and rubbed at it. “Watch the material --” She found herself pulled flush against his body with his lips pressed to hers. Lily kissed him back despite herself. She raised her gloved hands to his face and accepted his tongue, pulling it deep into the caverns of her mouth.
Her coat had lifted and Smith took advantage of the fact, slipping his hands underneath to grip and caress her behind. Lily helplessly pressed back into the caress a few times before breaking away from the kiss. She looked into his eyes as she smoothed a thumb across his lips to get rid of some smudged lipstick. “What was that for?” she asked between the slow kisses he was pressing to her mouth.
He grinned. “I couldn’t resist sweetness. You just look so fetching today in your red coat and with your hair caught up in that thing-a-ma-jig…” He raised a hand in the air and reached over her head to wiggle his fingers around the top of her head.
She bent her head back to look at his wiggling fingers. “A bun. It’s called a bun,” she told him.
“Yeah, I’m just itching to take all that hair down and muss you up a bit – but I won’t,” he quickly assured her with a chuckle and tightened his arms around her when she got a cautious look in her eyes and pushed against him. “I’m just telling you what’s turning me on about you today. Now let’s get back to that, shall we? I really want to.”
He seemed perfectly serious and so intent that Lily felt unaccountably shy and smiling, dipped her head.
“Thank you. Now where was I? Oh yes, your hair. This hair lying here on your forehead?” he said as he rubbed some of it between two fingers.
He paused and looked expectantly at her and Lily found herself giggling before nodding again.
“It’s looking all soft and feminine and it makes me want to do things to you that could get us both in serious trouble.”
She smiled again and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Yeah? So you like my bangs that much, huh?”
“Oh yeah. They inspire me to do all kinds of naughty things,” he said as he pressed his fingers into her behind again.
Lily’s smile disappeared and she leaned back into his caresses for a second time. She sighed and stepped out of his arms. “As much as I’m enjoying this -- and sometime soon, I want you to tell me why you’re suddenly interested in doing this -- I’ve got to get back to The Tobacconist and Kip,” she said as she adjusted her purse so it hung more securely from her shoulder.
“Yes, I guess you’d better. But I want you to promise me that you’ll be careful, Lily.”
His sudden serious tone had her studying him again. “I’m always careful, but what aren’t you telling me? What did you find out?”
“It’s nothing I can put my finger on, but something about this case is off, and I don’t like it. For starters, why does she have two of us working it? That just isn’t normal.”
Lily shrugged. “I think she just really wants her husband found.”
“Just promise me you’ll be careful, even more than usual, all right?”
Again, his tone had her considering him. “Sure, I promise, but I’ve got to get back.”
Smith watched her walk away, and couldn’t help but admire her sense of style. She was dressed like a fashion model in her fancy coat and slim, black suit pants and high heels. He shook his head, thinking that made her even more unsuitable for the job. Her clothes made her too unforgettable. Though, he didn’t think she could be forgettable even if she didn’t dress less like a fashion plate. He shook his head. Regardless of her wardrobe, he had a bad feeling about the case – had had it all day, but what he’d learned from Kip had cemented it.
That was the reason he’d pulled Mrs. Popkin aside and asked her to try to discourage Lily from talking to Kip. His plan had been to feed Lily some of what he’d learned from Kip, not all. It hadn’t worked and he wasn’t surprised. She was smart and was maki
ng all the right moves in her investigation so far. His smirk was self-directed. She was a step behind him, but he thought if she kept going the way she was, she might just catch up to him soon.
Chapter Thirteen
Cheeks flushed from more than the cold, Lily rushed back into the cigar shop. During her brief absence two people had entered the store. Mrs. Popkin was standing in front of a humidor, explaining why it would behoove her potential customers to purchase some outrageously expensive brand of cigar. Before Lily could approach the group to interrupt, Mrs. Popkin looked up and angled her head toward the counter area and office door. Lily assumed that meant that she should just go in.
Instead of walking behind the counter, she walked to the side of the counter that the office was on, reached over and knocked on the door.
A huge man in width and height with a neat, graying afro opened the door. “Why, Kip Beech!” Lily said in surprise to a high school classmate of one of her cousins who was five years older than she. Known as the gentle giant when they were younger, he was a talented singer and pianist, and it was thought that he’d make it big as a solo artist after going off to Juilliard, but it hadn’t happened. He’d come back home six months later after having suffered a breakdown from the pressure. As far as she knew, he still didn’t play the piano. “It should have occurred to me that the Kip Mrs. Popkin was referring to would be you!”
“Hi, Lily.” Kip smiled shyly at her. “How are you, girl?” He stepped closer to the counter and reached over it to give her a hug.
“I’m fine, Kip, just fine. How are you?”
“Oh, I can’t complain, can’t complain at all.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Do you mind if I join you back there to talk about Charles Landry? I understand he was here last Friday.”
“Sure, sure. I’ve been expecting you,” he said as he pushed the half-door outward for her to enter. “I must say that I was surprised to hear that you’re now a private detective.”