by Misty Simon
“Why don’t you take Mr. Fleefers downstairs and put him in my car? Open the window so no Good Samaritan breaks it in to save him. He likes to curl up in there. I have some food in the glove compartment. Come right back after you’re done, though, because I have to face Burton, and I am not doing this alone since you were in here too.”
He peered into my face just a little too long, but I wasn’t budging. “Take the cat and go, Max. I’m not going to leave. I want you here when Burton arrives.”
We had a brief stare-down that I won. I held in my sigh of relief until I heard the front door close and then I got to work.
The pages contained entries of sales for a store that no longer existed—or at least I had thought so. I put those aside for the moment because I didn’t know what all I could process in the short amount of time I had. Sifting through the remaining pages, I came to a full stop on the last page: A listing of all the times he’d been with Katie and Darla. I had no idea if these dates were sexual in nature or if they were for other nefarious reasons, but I wouldn’t have put either past Waldo.
On the back of that last page I found a sticky with a series of numbers and the name Grafton, and almost crowed. There was only one Grafton I knew and it was a bank. Could I have found the hiding place of the elusive money? Removing the last page, I almost choked when I felt the weight of something still in the folder. There was a small pocket on the folder that had blended in because it was black like the rest of the thick material. But the pocket was plastic and in it was a freaking key. A small key that looked like the one we used to have when Waldo had insisted my jewels go in a safety-deposit box.
I almost swooned, but kept myself upright long enough to shove the key in my bra. Walking back downstairs, I studiously avoided the dining room. I’d probably have to go see Waldo again soon enough, but I wanted to put that moment off for as long as possible.
* * *
The last hour had been hell. If I’d been scared with the amount of questions I’d had to answer when I’d found Darla dead, it was nothing compared to the barrage I was showered with over Waldo. And scared didn’t even begin to describe the pounding of my heart as I sat on my old couch for an interrogation—there was no other word for it.
They wanted to know where I was and how I came to be here. Why did I think Waldo had taken my cat? When had I gotten there and how had I gotten in? Had I moved anything?
I answered as best I could, but I was getting a headache. And the damn key was burning a hole in my boob. I wanted out of here. Away from my ex-husband’s dead body. I might not have loved him anymore, but being in the same house with his corpse was making me ill.
I’d take Mr. Fleefers home, put him away with some much-needed food, and then distract myself by sneaking off to the bank. I needed to get this over with. Time felt short and we were so close to answers. Finding the money became the one positive thing I could do in this time of horror. I was almost positive that the money was now the answer to all my questions, one way or another. I had to get it first before the person responsible for all this carnage got away with murder and got a big payday for it.
“So, what time did you say you found him?” Burton asked for the hundredth time.
“Seriously, Burton, do you really think the answer is going to change? Why are we doing this here? Can’t I meet you down at the station in a few hours and tell you everything I do and don’t know?”
Burton squinted at me. “You got somewhere you have to be, girly?”
“Ah, no.” I cleared my throat. “I just . . . uh . . . don’t like being in the house with my dead ex-husband, if you must know. And I have to get Mr. Fleefers home.”
He harrumphed and went back to questioning Max in the same relentless tone. He had already told the officers who he really was and had tried to get buddied up with them over a common goal, but Burton was having none of it.
“And you say the door was unlocked even though Tallie here swears she locked it behind her?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And what are you doing here again?”
Max sighed even as he valiantly answered the question. “I’m here trying to help a family friend stay out of trouble.” He’d come clean with Burton at the beginning of the question-and-answer session, because he couldn’t keep hiding behind being a flower guy when he always seemed to know more than he should.
“And are you helping her stay out trouble, or making it worse with this money thing?”
I inwardly cringed at the mention of the money. That damn key was going to sear my skin in 2.4 minutes if they didn’t let me the hell out of here so I could beat the bad guy and clear this all up. I needed to find out if my hunch was wrong. Of course, I’d rather it be right, but if that wasn’t the way it was going to work, then so be it. It would be a start and a start meant an end in sight. I wanted that more than anything.
“I’m trying to make it better with the money thing, as you call it. If we can find the money, then perhaps we can keep Tallie out of financial ruin. Isn’t that what you want for her too?”
Burton harrumphed again and tapped his pencil on his notepad. “Don’t be throwing stuff like that at me. That’s not my business here, but I’m not even sure there’s really trouble to be had.”
I couldn’t do it anymore. I’d actually taken to sitting on my hands to keep myself from showing Burton the folder, but I couldn’t do it anymore. Plus, it might have something to do with why Waldo was dead. I’d already withheld evidence once. I couldn’t do it again. I had to trust that Burton would do the right thing, no matter how he felt about me.
I left the room, intending to come right back from the kitchen, but instead everyone followed me. “Burton, I was going to show you this.” I slid the folder off the top of the fridge with a blush. He was not going to be happy.
That was an understatement.
“I can’t keep giving you the slide, Tallie!”
I handed it right over to him, then backed up against the counter, waiting for the rest of the explosion.
He visibly pulled himself together. After a few deep breaths, he stuck one hand on his waist and thrust the other into his graying hair. He paced back and forth in front of me and stopped a few times, shaking his head, then resumed pacing. I didn’t open my mouth the entire time, waiting for him to calm down. It was a long wait.
Finally, he shook his head one last time and scowled. Opening the folder, he stared at the list of numbers for a moment, then looked me dead in the eye as he waved his hand at the papers. “Care to explain what exactly I’m looking at?”
I twisted my fingers together. I wasn’t entirely positive I knew the answer to that, but with him looking expectantly at me, I had a feeling telling him “I don’t know” would not fly.
“I think Waldo might have kept my old bookstore open and used it to filter all his tax money and embezzled money through.”
The hand went to the hip again. He really needed to come up with a new gesture.
“So you think Walden Phillips the Third was pretending to sell romance novels to hide his money?”
“I’ve never seen that folder before. In fact, it was attached to the back of a gaudy mirror upstairs, which I’d also never seen before.” Maybe the new mirror had something to do with the jewelry Waldo had thought I’d taken from him. Was it a hiding place after he thought I uncovered his secrets when I’d been here the other day? “When I felt the edge of it under the mirror, I flipped it up and there it was. It was minutes before you arrived, so I’m not sure what it is exactly. But if you look at the last page, you’ll see a detailed list of all the times he’s met Darla and Katie too. There’s a series of numbers back there also, but I’m not sure what they mean any more than I’m sure of what the first list is.” The key was now causing a raging inferno in my bra. Burton would kill me if I kept the key back. I was not, however, going to pull it out in front of everyone in the kitchen. My cousin was in the room, for heaven’s sake. And, as much as I was stunned and seriousl
y interested in that kiss Max had given me, I did not want him to watch me fish around with my hand down the front of my shirt.
“Can I got to the bathroom?” I asked, laying my hand on my stomach.
Burton raised his eyebrows. “Don’t go finding anything while you’re in there.”
Well, shit, what was I going to do now? Be cheeky. “I make no promises. If I stumble across something, I’m not going to keep it from you.”
I could have sworn he mumbled, “Well, that will be a first” under his breath, but I was ignoring him. I’d tried in the beginning to give him everything I’d found and he’d ignored me. He shared in making that situation worse.
Hustling to the first-floor guest bath, I paced the small room, trying to think of a plausible reason to have the key. Burton was not going to buy that I just happened to find it in the powder room. I no longer wanted to do this by myself, though, so I was going to have to come clean. I just wished there was some way to do it without having to show my hand—or bra, as the case may be.
Brilliance struck me. I palmed the key out of my cleavage and held it between my fingers. I’d simply get my hand back on the folder, then slip the key back into the pocket.
For once something actually worked for me as I asked to see the numbers again, and casually slipped the key back in. After a few more minutes of showing Burton where I thought the money might be, I removed the papers, spread them out over the counter, then moved the folder.
Now it would be important to not overplay this. I sent the folder over the edge of the counter. It landed with a very satisfying clunk on the ground. Just enough to make people stop and notice.
“What was that?” Burton asked as if on cue.
“I have no idea.” I was not going to be the one to pick up the folder. I wanted this to all be Burton’s discovery from here on out.
He bent over to pick up the folder and then examined it, finally finding the little pocket and holding up the key. “That’s a safety-deposit key.”
I bit my tongue because I wanted to say that of course it was, and make him let me go right now to get the box. But I didn’t want to push him.
“I’m going to have to get some sort of court order to have this used.”
“Or . . .” I started and Burton cut his eyes to me.
“Or?”
“Or you can let me have it, and I’ll go down and see if that’s the same box Waldo and I had when we were married. Because if it is, then Waldo would’ve been too lazy to take my name off of it. We could see if we can finally find this money. There might also be more clues in there about why all this is happening.”
“That might be skating the line of legality. You and I both know that he might have been lazy, but if he was alive he would not want you in that box. I go by the book, Tallie.”
Dammit, I should have kept the freaking key and then just handed everything over to him when it was all done. But I’d shown my hand, so there was nothing more to do. “He’s not alive, though.”
Matt stepped in right behind me. “You know, Burton. I could take Tallie down to at least see if the old box is still there. Maybe ask about if anyone has come in to retrieve it, do some investigative work. And if we had the key, and it happens that she does have access to the box, then there’s nothing illegal about that.”
I beamed at my cousin, then turned to beam at Burton. The wattage went down a little when I saw his scowl. He wasn’t going to go for this. I’d have to take my cat home and sit like a good girl while Burton mucked his way through forty-million feet of red tape. It could have been so simple.
Max had been quiet through most of the proceedings. Whether because he wanted to stay out of the chief of police’s way, or had nothing to offer, I didn’t know, but he stepped forward now. “Burton, there’s a possibility we could shut this whole thing down now. Don’t get all that tape involved if you don’t have to. If Tallie can’t open the box, then we’ll regroup and find the box another way. But don’t give it up until we know for certain she can’t get in.”
So now it was three against one. I could almost see Burton conceding, but then he stood up straight. “We’re going to do this right,” he said, and I couldn’t contain my groan. “You didn’t let me finish, girly. We’re going to do this right in that we aren’t going to involve ourselves at all.”
The second groan was about to surface when he handed me the key. “We’re both right. He wouldn’t let you in that box if he was alive, but he’s not, so I’m going to pretend I never saw that thing. You go to the bank and try to use it. If they won’t let you, then you bring it right back to me as if you discovered it like everything else in this blasted case.”
I could barely contain my glee. I only did because it would make him rethink his decision if I did a little jig right in the middle of the kitchen, not to mention that dancing was not one of my many talents.
Chapter 13
After I dropped Mr. Fleefers off and fed him, Max demanded to come with me. It didn’t occur to me to refuse. I was in deeper than I had ever been and there were bad guys around. I welcomed his help.
I’d take a little time and space from him later to process that kiss. I hadn’t been kissed in years, literally. Perhaps it was the novelty of it all, but I doubted it. I was pretty confident Max knew how to use his lips to devastation, and he’d chosen me to devastate. I looked over at him in the passenger seat of the Lexus to find that he was looking at me as if he wanted to eat me up. Or at least I thought that might be what the curve of his mouth and the hunger in his eyes meant. I’d never been the recipient of a look like that, but I’d seen it on TV.
Fortunately, at that moment, we arrived at the bank, and I could yet again think about the money, instead of all the humming going on throughout my body.
Sitting for a moment with my hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel, I let the anticipation rush through me. This might be the end. I was done with spying and stealing and trying to keep myself safe. I wanted my boring old life back. Maybe it would be a little less boring if Max decided to stick around, but at least I would be physically safe, even if he threatened the emotional drought I’d been in for years. To be honest, that might not be a bad thing for me.
Apparently, I waited too long, because Max had already exited the car and stood at my door, popping the handle, then standing in the V he’d made in the open door.
In this position, I was practically nose-to-crotch with him. It wasn’t exactly a bad view. Mentally rolling my eyes at myself, I tried to get out of the car, but he refused to budge. I was not going to get in his space like that.
“Can you back up?”
“I want to get a few things straight first,” he said, leaning an arm on the door and ducking down to come eye level with me. “I’m here to keep you safe and make sure this all goes smoothly. I want you safe, Tallie. I need you to be safe.”
“I don’t know what to do with that, Max, not right now. Let’s find the money before we go making any declarations, okay?”
I forced myself up and out of the car, cramming my chest against his to move him out of the way. He still wasn’t budging. He wrapped his arms around me and I sunk in just for a second. “Let’s go get the deed done.”
I strolled into the bank as if I belonged there. The three goons who’d been at my father’s place earlier were the first thing I saw. Darla’s family was in the corner, loudly arguing with a teller about wanting access to Darla’s bank account as her only living relatives. I mentally wished them good luck. Darren was the only holder of the money. They would have no access while he was still alive.
Approaching the one teller I didn’t know in the bank, I quietly asked to be shown to safety-deposit box number 769. The woman, whose nametag said CANDY, did as she was asked after she took my identification and I showed her the key.
We went through the whole rigmarole of getting into the vault and then going down the aisles for the safety-deposit box. Whenever I was in here I always wondered what other peop
le had in the boxes. You could have jewels, cash, documents of adoptions, any number of things that could change a person’s life, and no one would ever know.
Finally Candy showed us to the box, we did the key insertion, and then she brought out the box and handed it over to me. It felt light as a feather. That couldn’t be good.
“I’ll be at the counter if you need anything,” Candy said as she edged away.
What the hell was in here and why was she edging away like a demented clown might pop out?
But that wasn’t a question easily answered. I’d just have to open it up and see. I wanted this to end now.
Craning open the box, I nearly screamed. Not because there was a severed head or even a spider, but because there was a complete and total absence of anything. Whatever had been in there was long gone. Not a single thing remained.
Max leaned over my shoulder. “Damn,” he said quietly when I wanted to scream the whole bank down.
“Candy, has anyone else come in looking for this box?” I turned to the woman who was trying to obviously not pay attention to us when it was plain she was taking in every word.
She hesitated, gnawing on her perfectly manicured thumbnail.
“Come on, Candy. I really need to know. My ex-husband told me there would be something in here I needed to find. We’re trying to reconcile, and now that I’m here, there’s nothing at all.” It was a lie, but if it helped me get the info I needed, then I didn’t give a care.
“Your ex-husband?” She moved closer to us, hovering just out of reach.
“Yes, my ex-husband. He wants to reconcile. He told me that if I came here for this box there would be something to give me a clue to my next adventure in bringing our love back.” Now I was laying it on thick enough to almost gag myself, but Candy seemed to be eating it up.
“That’s so sweet. And it makes more sense than the reason the guy this morning gave. He said he was here to pick something up out of the box, had a slip of paper with all the info and a signed note from the owner allowing the removal of the contents. He was not very happy when we told him his paper was not enough to get him into the box legally. The owner would have to be here for that.”