by Lane, Aubree
“I’ll take care of it. This problem is about to disappear.”
Mrs. Grimes stood up. “Are more bones about to be added to the walls of the tunnels?”
Mark spun around. “Of course not! What kind of monster do you think I am? I do not kill people.”
Cara walked over and placed a hand on Mark’s arm. “You don’t have to handle this alone. You have help.”
She was probably the only person in the room who could get through to the man of steel. David held his breath and hoped for the best.
Her cajoling words worked. Mark looked up at the ceiling and rolled his shoulders to release some tension. With soft eyes, he looked down at Cara. “Do you know who that is?”
Cara nodded slightly. “I believe it’s Officer Nate Waters.”
Mark’s eyes opened wide, and he cocked his head questioningly. “Officer?”
Cara reared back. “That’s how he introduced himself and he was in uniform.” She drew in a shaky breath. “He said he was here because I had been drinking and it wasn’t allowed in my monitor agreement. He told me my monitor went off, and he was here to issue me a warning.”
Mark grabbed Cara’s arms. “He works for the family. He’s Duncan’s parents chauffeur.”
“Duncan’s father is responsible for my arrest!” Cara’s eyes went wide with shock. “That man never cared for me. You would think he’d jump for joy about our divorce.”
Mark pulled Cara in for a hug. “You know that’s not how they operate. You hurt their son, and in their eyes that cannot go unpunished.”
Cara placed her hands on Mark’s chest and pushed him away. She stormed back and forth as her brain digested this new development. “I hurt him?” she ranted. “Why can’t Weston understand the hell I had been living? Inga might not have supported my decision to divorce Duncan, but at least she tried to see my side.” She pounded her chest with her fist. “Don’t I count for something? I was a member of that family for a long time!” Tears flowed down her cheeks. “How could Weston hate me that much?”
Mark stood off to the side and let her vent. He leaned back against the kitchen counter and restated his earlier explanation. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you, Cara. It’s all about them. Just like always.”
“They’re despicable.” Cara shot back.
Tanner began to rise out of his seat to help calm her, but Mark waved him off, then he turned and held a halting hand up to Mrs. Grimes, and a few seconds later, he leveled a fierce glare in David Crandall’s direction to keep him in place. Cara had been holding in a ton of anger and she needed to get it out. The only one who seemed to understand that was the youngest member of the bunch, Erin.
Lisa had lost interest in the whole thing and sat flipping through a magazine in the chair where she had been told to sit.
The redhead’s indifference was not lost on Cara. Infuriated, she picked up a blue vase sitting on a small table by the entry and threw it. It shattered into a million pieces at Lisa’s feet.
Lisa didn’t so much as flinch. She simply looked at the debris on the floor, raised her head in Cara’s direction and said, “How mature.”
Cara drew in an exasperated breath and picked up the vase’s mate and chucked it directly at Lisa’s head.
Lisa’s eyes grew wide as she watched the hurling object approach her face.
Mark caught the weapon of cranial destruction midway between the two women.
Lisa grabbed the arms of the chair and her head shook with disbelief. “You could have killed me.”
Cara rolled her eyes. “Oh please, you had plenty of time to duck.”
“That does it. I am so outta here!” Lisa grabbed her purse and bolted for the front door. She swung it open and her eye ran smack dab into Leah’s fist, which had been raised to announce her arrival. Lisa grabbed her face and yelled, “Holy hell, what’s with you people?”
Leah looked over at Cara and hooked her thumb in Lisa’s direction. “Isn’t that Blackjack Barbie?”
“Stop calling me that!” Lisa wailed as she half blindly made her way back to her assigned seat.
Cara pinched her lips together in silent laughter and motioned her best friend to come inside.
Mrs. Grimes raced as fast as her little old legs would carry her, to offer Lisa her assistance. “Come back inside dear and let’s get some ice on that eye.”
Mark placed the vase back on the table and snickered to himself. This group was more volatile than most of the lowbrows he dealt with at the casino.
With Mrs. Grimes taking care of Lisa, he turned to the new comer and introduced himself to the woman who had given the redhead a shiner. “I’m Mark Porter, Cara’s brother-in-law.”
Leah extended her hand. “Leah Jefferson Bailey. Cara’s best friend.”
Mark took her delicate hand in his. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
With a slight batting of her eyes, Leah cocked her head coyly. “Same here.” She caught her flirtatious behavior and self-consciously turned back to the rest of the group. “So what’s with the love fest?”
Cara hooked Leah’s arm and brought her to the sofa. “You’re not going to believe what we’ve discovered.” She pointed at David. “This is David Crandall, the other private detective Martin Langley hired to help prove my innocence. Between his partner, Hunter Henderson, and Mrs. Grimes we know who broke in here and framed me.” She pressed rewind on the laptop and let Leah see for herself who the culprit was.
Leah leaned in close and watched the screen intently. The image of the hooded man reeled past and Cara hit the pause button.
Leah raised a questioning eyebrow at her friend. “So?” she asked. “Who was that?”
Cara’s proudly inflated chest, deflated. The look of complete and utter disappointment washed over her face. “It was Officer Nate Waters, only he’s not a policeman.” Cara brought her leg up and banged her foot on the coffee table. “And this is not a booze bracelet.”
Leah shook her head. “No way. He had a badge and everything.”
Cara explained further, “Mark has confirmed that he is Weston and Inga’s chauffeur. Weston must have put him up to this. That man is a piece of work.”
“Forget about him and all of this crap,” Leah shouted waving her hand at the laptop. “Did you figure out Brett’s clue?”
Cara’s face was full of frustration. “What clue? You were talking gibberish.”
Chapter Thirteen
Leah couldn’t understand why Cara hadn’t taken her information seriously. Who gave a crap about that jerk-ass, Nate Waters, when Brett had given them a real clue? Brett loved Cara and he would never leave town without telling her unless he had no other choice. Brett kept Cara informed of every showing or event which took him out of town even if it was only for a few hours, but this time he was leaving forever.
Leah grabbed Cara’s hand. “Aren’t you worried about Brett? Haven’t you wondered why he hasn’t contacted you?”
Anger flashed in Cara’s eyes. She jerked her fingers out of Leah’s grasp. “Of course I care. Do you remember how you felt after the cops ransacked your place? Brett probably feels the same and he just needs a little time.” She planted her foot up on the coffee table and pointed at the monitor. “But there isn’t anything else I can do. I’ve left him so many messages that his mailbox is full. I just have to be patient and give him some time. I’m sure he will forgive me eventually.”
Leah looked up to the heavens and prayed for patience. Cara was doing it again. It was all about her. She changed her mind and let Cara have it. “Don’t you get it? It’s totally out of character for Brett to disappear without telling you, and it’s absolutely bizarre for him to come and see me for any reason.” She grabbed Cara by her chin to make sure she understood the seriousness of the situation. “Brett doesn’t especially care for me and the feeling is mutual. When he was in my shop, he was nervous and shaky. Then he gave me that cryptic message to give you. Open your eyes and look at this from Brett’s point
of view. He’s sending you a clue, so get off your high horse and figure the damn thing out!”
David Crandall walked over and touched Leah’s arm. “Excuse me. Would you care to tell me what this is all about?”
On impulse, Leah jumped up and leaped into the detective’s arms. Finally someone was listening. Tears of relief flowed down her cheeks.
David extracted himself from the emotional woman’s embrace and led her over to the dining room table. They sat down and Leah’s eyes locked onto his, as if she were afraid he was going to disappear. David knew what she had to say was important. Hunter’s description of Leah Jefferson Baily was that she was one hell of a smart cookie. Grudgingly, David had grown to respect Hunter, along with his assessments and theories. If Hunter were here, he’d listen to the young shop keeper, and trust her instincts.
Gradually, the rest of the people in the room began to gather around.
“I felt like I was in the middle of a spy movie. Brett came in and he looked like hell. I know you don’t know him, but he is this middle-aged artsy-fartsy type who gets around with the ladies. He goes for the shabby chic look. You know, how it looks like he doesn’t care, but it has actually taken him hours to put himself together.”
David nodded and prompted her to continue. “You said he was nervous and shaky.”
Her head nodded frantically. “The man’s eyes would not stay still. They kept darting around the room, like he was expecting someone to jump out and shoot him. He told me he was leaving town and made me promise to give Cara a message. He said...” Leah took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to remember Brett’s exact words. “He said to tell Cara how much he enjoyed the time they spent watching Jaunting Jamison, and if she ever needed help, the Brett Boden original she had sitting in her front yard would come in handy.”
Tanner’s little sister cut in. “I know that show. It’s hilarious. Every time Jamison Spencer threw his hands up and yelled ‘Eureka,’ we’d down a shot.”
The ex-Blackjack dealer giggled. “You must be in college.”
Tanner’s eyes grew wide, and he tried to stare his little sister down. “Is that how you spend your time at UCLA?”
Erin brushed off her big brother’s reprimand. “For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of the same form of higher education as myself, let me give you a brief rundown about the show.
“Jamison Spencer played an explorer who traveled the world in search of treasure. During its stint on the air, most people believed the tales he told were real, but watching it now, you’d see just how cheesy it was. Whenever he felt like he was close to finding his prize he would start dragging around this big old heavy sledge hammer. Somehow, he would miraculously figure out the really obvious clue, and he would wield the sledge hammer over his head and smash the sarcophagus or treasure chest into a million pieces. The treasure would be unearthed, the fifty pound sledge hammer would miraculously become light as a feather, and Jaunting Jamison would throw it in the air and send it flying off behind him. The camera would zoom in for a close-up and Jamison would yell, Eureka!”
Erin leaned back in her chair and glanced around at all the eyes staring at her and went on with her story, “It was the same scenario for every single episode. The only thing that varied was the fictitious country he was traveling in.” She looked over at Mrs. Grimes. “I’m sorry, but you people were really gullible back then.”
Mrs. Grimes stared at the girl, but she didn’t see her any more than she had heard the barb Erin had thrown in her direction.
David watched as the old woman’s mind worked the problem. Her wheels were spinning faster than the blades of the skilsaw he’d been using earlier in the week as he attempted to build a bookcase for Jack’s new bedroom.
A Eureka little glint appeared in her faded gray eyes. Mrs. Grimes rose from the table in a trance, and gradually made her way across the room. When she reached the eyeball door, her hand caressed the carving lovingly, her eyes narrowed as her thoughts continued their analytical quest. She tapped the nail of her index finger on the damaged section where Beth Rainy had installed her camera and walked outside.
David followed, knowing Mrs. Grimes was on to something. He kept his distance not wanting to interrupt her flow of thought. When Lisa opened her mouth to say something mocking, he held up a warning finger and hushed her. The rest of Cara’s collection of friends and family seemed to understand something big was about to happen and also remained remarkably quiet.
Mrs. Grimes walked around the corner and opened Tanner’s toolshed. A moment later her rear end pushed the door back open. She backed out of the shed, hunched over with the handle of a twenty pound sledgehammer in her hand. It was too heavy for her to lift, so its head drug in the dirt.
David rushed over to relieve Mrs. Grimes of her burden. “What would you like me to do with this?”
Her aged eyes twinkled with mischief. She hooked her finger for him to follow and without another word, walked over to the strange sculpture in Cara’s front lawn. She stood a long moment examining the multi-metaled abstract. “Tell me about this thing again, Cara.”
The group parted a pathway back to Cara. She stood in her doorway unable to cross the threshold.
“You mean beside the fact that I’m lucky enough to own the ugliest Brett Boden statue ever,” Cara called out cheekily. When she saw that everyone was waiting on her and the situation was serious, she continued more thoughtfully, “Brett designed it to go along with this weird door. He used it as his inspiration. He said the same types of doors were used at some resort he used to go to as a kid down in Capitola near the Santa Cruz Beach and Boardwalk.” Cara pointed at the sculpture. “Those swirly things are supposed to represent the famous wooden rollercoaster called The Giant Dipper, and that head in the middle with the eerie smile is, Laffin’ Sal.”
Cara held up her finger and walked back inside. She returned a moment later with a piece of paper. “I got this off of Wikipedia, so consider the source. ‘Laffin’ Sal stood 6 feet, 10 inches high, including a 12 inch pedestal. She was made of paper mache. She wore an artificial wig with a hat attached, but her most identifying feature was the large gap between her front teeth. When activated, the figure waved its arms and leaned forward and backward. A record player concealed in its pedestal played a stack of 78 RPM recordings of a woman laughing. When the records finished, an attraction operator re-stacked and restarted them.’”
Mrs. Grimes smiled and turned back to David. “I knew that freaky bitch looked familiar. There used to be one at the front door of the casino. When she laughed, it meant that a high stakes poker game with all the amenities was about to start.”
David cocked his head. “Amenities?”
“Booze, hookers. As long as you were still in the game, anything you wanted would be provided. They would play for eight hours, take a three hour break, then get back to it. It went on like that until one winner took all.” She placed her hands on her hips. “It was exciting stuff, but I don’t think Brett knew anything about that. I think he had a different message in mind.”
He glanced down at the sledgehammer. “What would you like me to do with this?”
“Bash Laffin’ Sal’s head in.”
David drew in a deep breath. If Mrs. Grimes was wrong, he would have destroyed an expensive piece of art. It was a decision he couldn’t make on his own. He glanced back at Cara and silently asked for her permission.
With a pained look on her face, Cara nodded. Then she immediately covered her eyes with her hands. “I can’t watch,” she moaned. “I hate that stupid monstrosity, but Brett made it for me.” She turned away from the grin plastered on Laffin’ Sal’s face and braced herself for the sound of either success or failure.
David drew the sledgehammer back, still unsure if this was the best course of action. “Here goes.” He paused giving Cara one more chance to stop him, but she kept her back to him as she hovered in the doorway with her face hidden in her hands. Reluctantly, he gave a m
ighty swing and the heavy head of the sledgehammer was planted in the skull of Laffin’ Sal.
Mrs. Grimes hurried over and began to search through the fragments and came up empty handed. “I can’t believe I was wrong about this. I’m good at puzzles. I always know who-done-it in all the detective programs. I see clues where no one else does.” She let the shards fall from her hands, unable to comprehend her erroneous conclusion.
Cara turned around to view the damage. David had taken Sal’s head clean off, and the rollercoaster was in a tangled mess on the ground. David expected her to fly into hysterics, but she remained surprisingly calm. “Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Grimes. I thought you were right, too.”
Erin furrowed her brow. “Cara, read the information you have on Laffin’ Sal again.”
The paper was now a crumpled mess in Cara’s sweaty palm. Carefully, she smoothed it out and reread the history of Laffin’ Sal, according to Wikipedia.
Erin smiled. “A record player was concealed in its pedestal.” She walked over to the base of what was left of the sculpture and ran her hands across the hammered black steel. “I feel a catch right here, but I can’t seem to open it.”
“Maybe that detective dude should use the sledgehammer again,” Mark chuckled.
“Wait!” Erin cried excitedly. “I think I got it.” A door opened and Erin withdrew a cell phone and its battery. “I think I know why Brett Boden hasn’t been answering your phone calls, Cara.”
She handed the phone to David.
“Can I take this?” he called up to the phone’s proper owner.
“What are you going to do with it?”
David smiled. “Have Hunter scrub it and find out how handy the Brett Boden original in your front yard really is.”
Cara didn’t want to let it go. She wanted first crack at seeing what Brett left her, but since she hadn’t even been able to figure out a way to block Duncan’s phone calls she knew it was already in the proper hands. “Call me as soon as you find something.”