Weaver's Needle

by Caroll, Robin;

  Hogan held up his hands as if to ward off the accusation. “So no one else has reported getting a letter like that? Or any prank calls? Anything else?”

  Kohl shook his head. “Of course not. Nothing. We would have called anything like that in and reported it to the police.”

  Nickolai would have to tell Hogan about the flat tire. But not in front of Kohl and Margaret.

  “Whose room?” his wife asked.

  Nickolai held his tongue, hoping Hogan would offer up the information. As owners of the motel, they deserved to know. They’d find out anyway.

  “The lady with this gentleman’s group.”

  “Miss Parker,” the woman barely whispered, but she still drew a glare from her husband.

  “You know her?” Hogan asked.

  The woman ignored her husband and approached the edge of the counter. “Yes. She’s very polite.” She cut her eyes to her husband. “Considerate. She came in to make copies earlier.”

  “Copies?” Hogan shot Nickolai a quick look. “Of what?”

  “She had pictures of the map on her phone. She made a couple of copies and left.”

  Nickolai’s pulse kicked into overdrive. Map?

  “You let her make copies here?” No mistaking the irritation in Kohl’s voice as he all but barked at his wife.

  “She paid for them, of course.” Margaret ducked her head. “I wouldn’t have let her make copies otherwise.”

  Hogan tapped the counter. “A map? Of what?”

  “The Superstitions.” She curled up her lip. “She’s searching for the lost mine.” Margaret shook her head. “I thought she had more sense than that. Although, she did have a map I’ve never seen before. I could make out Weaver’s Needle and a couple of other landmarks.” She shot a stare at her husband, who continued glaring, then spoke to Hogan. “Not that I really looked, but some things just jump out at you.”

  “Of course. You couldn’t help recognizing such prominent marks.”

  “Did she tell you where she got these pictures and what she was going to do?” Nickolai’s question earned him a warning glance from Hogan.

  “She didn’t say,” Margaret answered.

  “There, she doesn’t know anything more.” Kohl effectively cut his wife off. She retreated a step, then another, back from the counter.

  “Do you have any security cameras on the property?” Hogan asked.

  Kohl nodded. “I’m not sure if that room is in the frame, though.”

  “Can we look?” Hogan pressed.

  Kohl hesitated but waved Hogan behind the counter. Nickolai turned and pretended to be reading the bulletin board as the two men left. Once they were in the back room, their voices muffled by the distance, Nickolai smiled at Margaret.

  She smiled back, a little shyly. “I hope Miss Parker wasn’t frightened off. She is a very nice lady.”

  “Oh, it didn’t scare her off. We aren’t checking out.”

  Her smile widened. “Good. My husband … he doesn’t like it when guests leave abruptly.”

  Nickolai leaned on the counter and flashed the biggest smile he could muster. “We won’t leave until we’re finished here.” He lowered his voice to what he hoped sounded like a secret-between-friends whisper. “Hey, no one else happened to be in the office when Landry was in here making her copies, was there?”

  She shook her head. “Only me up here. Vanessa was in the back, getting her orders.”

  “Vanessa?”

  “She’s our afternoon housekeeper.”

  “Oh.” He straightened and looked at the doorway where Hogan and Kohl had disappeared. Their voices were a bit closer sounding. “Did she see the copies Landry made?”

  Margaret wrinkled her brow. “I didn’t show them to her.”

  Show them … Nickolai tilted his head. “Do you have copies of what she made?”

  Her face whitened then reddened. No matter what came out of her mouth, Nickolai knew she had copies.

  “Well … the printer kept a record, and when I printed out the report at the end of the day, well, they printed out.”

  “Where are they?” Nickolai could make out Hogan’s tone of displeasure.

  Margaret, too, heard them. She reached under the counter and grabbed papers then pushed them into Nickolai’s hands. “Here. These are the copies. Vanessa wanted a set for her boyfriend because he collects things like that, she said.”

  Nickolai inhaled quickly as Hogan and Kohl returned.

  “You can’t see the doors to the rooms you three are staying in,” Hogan announced.

  “Did your other friend find you? When he arrived this morning, the rooms on either side of you and Miss Parker were already taken, so I had to put him on the other side,” Margaret said. “He asked what room Mr. Hauge and you and Miss Parker were in. Of course, I wouldn’t tell him, but he said that was okay, that he would call Mr. Hauge.”

  “Who is this?” Hogan asked.

  Kohl moved his hand over the guest register. “I’m not sure we should give you this information without a warrant.”

  Hogan shrugged. “I can get one. Of course, if I do that, it might hit the press that your guests have received threatening letters here at the motel. Taped right to the room door.”

  Kohl didn’t hesitate. He glanced at the ledger. “Phillip. Phillip Font-e-not.”

  Nickolai didn’t recognize the name from the packet, but with a surname of Fontenot, the man was definitely from south Louisiana.

  Who was Phillip Fontenot, and what was he doing here?

  CHAPTER TEN

  Miss Parker, why didn’t you mention the map before?”

  Landry pushed off from the edge of the bed where she’d sat and stared at the police officer who’d barged into her motel room with Nickolai in tow. He looked even more annoyed than before he’d gone to speak to the motel’s owner.

  Well, that was okay because she was annoyed as well. With Mister Winky, sitting at the table with Stan, who seemed to think she and Stan were afraid of their own shadows, she just wanted the report filed and everybody out of her motel room. “I didn’t think it relevant.”

  “That’s really for the police to decide, Miss Parker.” He wore smugness as comfortably as his badge and uniform. “Can you give me a copy of this map? Margaret, the nice lady in the office whose husband happens to own the motel, said you made a copy in the office.”

  She could, of course, but she wasn’t willing. No way would she let Nickolai even see a copy of the map. She was not in the habit of sharing information, especially when there was fifty grand up for grabs. “I’m sorry, but no.”

  “No?”

  She shook her head then glanced at Nickolai. Would Mr. Black-and-White back his brothers in blue in order to get a look at the map?

  But he surprised her. “I don’t think the map itself is important, Officer Hogan.” Nickolai eased down on the long counter holding the television.

  Would wonders never cease? Landry could hug him at this moment, even if he was her competitor and she didn’t trust him.

  “Oh, you don’t, do you?” the older cop asked Nickolai as he leaned against the wall behind the door.

  The motel room felt too crowded. The air seemed stale, even though the door had been cracked about an inch. Just enough to let a mosquito in that continued to buzz about, annoying Landry even more. Nickolai and the officer had shut it when they entered. She felt as prickly as the cactus growing outside.

  “I just realized the note is actually the second threat against Landry.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest to keep herself in check. What?

  “The tire on her rental was punctured, flattening it while she was out today.” Nickolai shot her a sheepish glance.

  Forget hugging him—she wanted to throttle him.

  “Is that so, Miss Parker?”

  “Yes, it was a slow leak in the tire from a puncture.” She glared at Nickolai, who wouldn’t meet her stare. “And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I caught him sneak
ing around my rental last night. Perfect time to puncture the tire.”

  That got his attention. Nickolai’s head popped up. “I told you, I had nothing to do with your flat tire.”

  “Why is this the first I’m hearing of this?” Stan asked. Worry lined his face like tire tread.

  Officer Winky held up his hand. “Wait a minute.” He looked at Landry. “You had a flat tire today?”

  “Yes.” Better just to answer yes or no.

  “You’d better get this down,” the older officer told Winky.

  Winky flipped pages in his notebook and looked at Landry. “You believe the tire was punctured? On purpose?”

  She nodded.

  The older officer—Hogan, Nickolai had called him—cleared his throat. “Why would you say that, Miss Parker?”

  “Because of its location.” She caught the look the two local cops exchanged and sighed. “As well as that’s what the serviceman told me when I took it in to be repaired.”

  “You think Mr. Bap-tees could be responsible?” Winky gave Nickolai the stink eye before scribbling in his little spiral notebook. Maybe he wasn’t all bad.

  “I caught him sneaking around the Jeep last night.” She smiled at Nickolai.

  “I wasn’t sneaking around, I already told you. And you didn’t need to pull a gun on me.”

  “Whoa! A gun?” Officer Hogan pushed off the wall, straightening as he stared at Landry. “You have a gun? You better explain.”

  “Of course I have a gun. I also have a concealed carry permit as well. I am retired military police, well trained in firearms.” This was getting old very fast.

  “She declared it at the airport and showed her credentials.” Stan traced the edge of the table in front of him.

  “If you two work together, why would you think he’d give you a flat?” Officer Hogan asked.

  Heat rose up the back of Landry’s neck. “We don’t work together. We’re competitors.”

  “Are you now?” Officer Hogan faced Nickolai. “I think you’d best explain, Mr. Baptiste.”

  He told them they worked together? Oh, this was rich. “Yes, please do explain, Nickolai. I can’t wait to hear this.” She sat on the edge of the bed and stared up at him. Working together? Not even.

  Nickolai’s face reddened. “I meant that we were working on the same case, which we are.” He sent Landry a stare that dared her to defy him.

  But that’s one of the things she did best. She smiled at Officer Winky. “Nickolai and I were offered the same job. Whoever recovers the item and returns it to the client is actually paid the recovery fee. So, you see, we are pitted against each other. I don’t want him to succeed any more than he wants me to.” She turned her smile to Nickolai. “Although, I don’t resort to flat tires and menacing notes to obtain my goal.”

  “Oh, so now I not only gave you a flat, but I also left a stupid note on your door?” Nickolai shook his head. “I don’t think so, lady.”

  “Hold up, there. She does have a legitimate concern.” Officer Hogan rested his hands on his belt rig. “You are competing for a job, you were seen around her rental before the slow leak that caused her flat, and you did mislead me about Miss Parker’s and your working relationship.” He turned back to Landry. “What time did you leave before this note was found?”

  “Around four-ish. I had my flat, changed it, and I should mention Nickolai just happened to be out on that exact road just minutes after I changed the tire. Almost like he knew there’d be trouble and maybe he followed me or something.”

  “I didn’t follow you, because I didn’t mess with the tire.”

  Officer Hogan shook his head. “Just hold up, there, Mr. Baptiste. What road was this?”

  “North Apache Trail.”

  “Heading toward the Superstition Mountains?”

  Landry hated to confirm in front of Nickolai, but she had no choice. She nodded.

  “I was—” Nickolai started.

  Officer Hogan cut him off with a snap of his fingers. “Now, Miss Parker, what did you do after you changed the tire?”

  “I told Nickolai to do his thing and let me do mine; then I headed back into town. I stopped off at the tire store over on East Apache Trail because it was open the latest. Bob was the gentleman who fixed the tire and confirmed it was a deliberate puncture.”

  “Bob’s a good guy,” Winky volunteered.

  Hogan nodded. “Then what did you do?”

  “They were closing up when I paid, so that was about six. I came back here, intending to ask Stan if he’d like to grab supper, but he showed me the note and he’d already called you.”

  Stan nodded. “I found the note around five or five thirty, when I went out to the car to retrieve my charger. I saw the note and called the police. Landry showed up here about fifteen minutes later, and I showed it to her.”

  “I see.” Hogan rested his hands on his belt rig again as he faced Nickolai. “Where were you today?”

  Oh, this was going to be really good. Landry looked at Nickolai and raised an eyebrow.

  Every line in his handsome face screamed he didn’t want to say anything in front of her. She hadn’t wanted to announce where she’d been, either, or anything about the map in front of him. Turnabout was fair play, right?

  “I was in Gilbert at about four, so I guess I left here around three thirty. I left there around five or so. I got turned around with the roads closed for the marathon and my GPS and ended up next to a dirt road where I saw Landry changing her flat. I pulled up behind her and offered to help, but she accused me of puncturing her tire.” He stopped telling his story long enough to glare at her. “Which I didn’t do, and I explained that to her. She sped off. I reset my GPS and made it to where I was going. I was there until I drove up here at the motel and saw the police car.”

  “Gilbert, eh? What were you doing there?” Hogan pressed.

  Landry was curious about that herself.

  And Nickolai knew it. He flipped his glance from her to Hogan. “I was meeting someone in conjunction with the case.”

  Hogan followed Nickolai’s slow gaze to Landry. “I see. Perhaps we should step outside and question you, Mr. Baptiste.”

  Nickolai didn’t wait for a discussion. He took the three steps to the motel room door and opened it. Hogan followed, as did Officer Winky. Landry wanted to, desperately, but figured she’d be shut out. The police might need to question Nickolai, but since he was a retired cop, they’d still side with him ultimately. She did the same with military.

  Stan’s cell phone beeped. He checked it. Stood. “Sorry. He’s called five times. I’d better call him back.” He stepped outside into the night.

  Finally alone, Landry plopped down on the bed. Gilbert. Who was in Gilbert that had any relation to the case?

  “Joel Easton.”

  The officer with Hogan wrote the name in his notebook.

  “How does he tie into the case?” Hogan asked.

  “I’m not at liberty to discuss the details of the case, I’m sure you understand, but he was critical to my follow-up.”

  Stan stepped out of Landry’s room, phone pressed to his ear. He unlocked his room and stepped across the threshold and shut the door behind him.

  Hogan shook his head. “All this is linked to a murder back in New Orleans?”

  Nickolai resisted the urge to correct the man’s pronunciation of his home that came out as New Or-leans. It was a common mistake, of course, but still nerve grating. “It might be. The NOLA Police Department is working the case and hasn’t made any statement regarding anything concrete.”

  That was ambiguous, he knew, but he didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t betray his partner’s confidence by sharing what he knew about the case. Especially since the commander was heading up the investigation.

  “I see.” Hogan leaned against the hood of the cruiser and stared at him in the flickering security light of the motel. “I suppose we can call the New Or-leans Police Department and see what they’ll tell us.”
>
  Nickolai’s stomach tightened into a ball. This could and would be very bad for him. For Chris. For the case and the investigation. But, was Hogan really going to call, or was it just a bluff for Nickolai to volunteer more information? He didn’t know for certain, but he had to play his hunch. “You can. I can give you the direct number so you don’t have to go through the switchboard and the four times of transferring.” He forced the chuckle. “You know how that is.”

  Hogan laughed, too. “Yeah, I do know. Ours is the same way.”

  Nickolai hated having to manipulate a fellow officer, but in this case …

  “Look, I don’t think you punctured Miss Parker’s tire or left that note, but someone did.” Hogan nodded at the other officer. “What about Mr. Hauge?”

  “No, sir. He’s here as a representative of their client. It’s not logical that he’d write the note then call us to report it.”

  Nickolai wanted to laugh at the mental image of Stan cutting out letters from a magazine or newspaper and gluing them to the paper then taping it to Landry’s door.

  “If you aren’t responsible, and Mr. Hauge isn’t responsible, then there’s someone out there who has made two different acts against Miss Parker.” Hogan looked at Landry’s closed door. “I don’t want there to be a third one.”

  “Me, either.” Nickolai, too, stared at Landry’s door. He knew he hadn’t done anything toward her, and he was pretty certain Stan hadn’t. Whose feathers had she ruffled? He knew she’d talked with Allen Edgar, but he hardly seemed the type to threaten someone. Especially someone he hoped would give him money for something. “Do you think it’s possible the motel owners or the maid could be the culprits?”

  “Motive?” Hogan asked.

  “They had copies of the map. Maybe they want to scare Landry off because they want to try their hand at finding the mine.”

  Hogan and the younger cop both laughed. Nickolai didn’t see the humor. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then back again.

  “Every local has grown up hearing that legend. Whether our families believed it or not, they told the story. I don’t know of a kid who grew up in these parts who hasn’t looked for the mine.” Hogan shook his head. “Nobody’s found anything. Even if they had, it’d be property of the feds now.”