Uncle Freddie did an amazing job auctioning off all sorts of things that had been donated, including all the necklaces—five of which the models were wearing when they were evacuated. Uncle Freddie had even thrown in one of his old guitars, which fetched a hefty sum.
Buff bought a gift basket full of hair care products Val had donated as a last minute item. Given he didn’t have a hair on his head, I wondered if those products would end up being used to shampoo dogs who might be under his care, or simply given to his receptionist, since he had no use for them. Mr. Chu was very pleased with himself, having been triumphant in the bidding war against Val for the pet photo shoot. Having lost the photo shoot, Val bid on and won the Thai silver necklace that had been donated by Amanda Greer.
By the end of the evening, we’d made a tidy sum for the Homeless Advocacy Team. It was a job well done, although we might have succeeded in making more had the chandelier been intact. Jaya from HAT was thrilled with the money we raised, and all the models, including Tessa’s daughters, seemed happy to have participated in running a successful event.
I realized in all the commotion I still hadn’t told Zachary about the man I’d seen in the Underground.
“I need to sit down for a bit,” I told Zachary. I pointed to a bench at the end of the square, near the boutique where I’d bought my dress, away from the crowd so we could have some peace and quiet.
As we sat down, I glanced at the front windows of Cassie’s shop. I saw the strangest thing. Daniel was inside the store, trying to break out through the newly-installed security gates. And he wasn’t having much luck. I was sure he must have been who I’d seen in the Underground.
“See that man in the shop?” I asked Zachary pointing at the Styles by Cassie storefront.
“Yes.”
“I think that’s who started the fire. I chased him through the Underground, but lost sight of him. I came up through the box office, but the other passageway must lead to Cassie’s boutique.”
“How do you know so much about the tunnels under the theater?”
“I’m pretty sure you don’t want to know.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re right,” Zachary replied.
“I also think he might be the person who broke into my house the other night.”
“Why do you think so?” he asked, his eyes focused on the frantic man, who looked like a caged animal as he paced back and forth behind the windows, trying to find a way out.
“Because the person I saw in the Underground was wearing the same thing as the burglar—a black hooded sweatshirt and a Venetian mask.”
Zachary trotted off to talk with the firemen, who were wrapping things up in the theater lobby now that the fire had been extinguished. He took a small crew of firemen to Cassie’s shop, where they used their gear to unlock the security gates and rescue Daniel.
He was acting much as he had when we first met him—like a complete and utter wreck. As I watched him, I was certain it was exactly that—an act. I was sure we’d find a hoodie and a mask somewhere in the Underground that belonged to him, as well as a matchbook with his DNA on it.
Getting up from the bench, I approached the group and pulled Zachary aside.
“You know how Austin scratched the letters MO on the stage before he died?” I asked. “We thought that meant it was Monika or Cassie Morton. But it wasn’t MO. It was OW—Austin was trying to write Owens—Daniel Owens.”
“How did you come to that conclusion?” Zachary asked.
“It was the auction bidding cards. You know how you said you got number 99? When I won the pieces of the Vega chandelier, Uncle Freddie thought I had number 66, and I had to correct him. It’s all about perspective. We were reading Austin’s message upside down.”
“Interesting theory,” Zachary said.
“To prove my theory you can check for any scratches on his Daniel’s head. In case I’m very much mistaken, he’s the burglar I interrupted in my house the other night who was ambushed by a kitten,” I said.
“Gumdrop?” Zachary gave me a puzzled look. I had forgotten to tell him about the kitten.
“No, a tiny orange kitten that’s been lurking around my back patio recently.”
Zachary instructed one of the nearby police officers to arrest Daniel Owens.
“Why? What did I do?” Daniel howled as the officer cuffed him.
“Let’s start with arson. From there, perhaps we’ll consider you a suspect in the murder of Austin Greer,” Zachary said as the officers hauled Daniel away.
“I want a lawyer. I’m not saying another thing until I see my lawyer,” Daniel whimpered as the police escorted him to their squad car.
TWENTY-FOUR
As we sat in his car, Zachary leaned over and whispered in my ear.
“You’re very brave,” he said, kissing me gently on the lips.
“So are you,” I replied, returning a kiss to him.
“I was going to give you this earlier, but I didn’t have the chance,” Zachary said, handing me a tiny box. Most women would have assumed it was a ring, but I knew better. He’d never propose to me while parked at Yesler Square.
“Should I open it?”
“Not now. But I hope you’ll wear it.”
Zachary drove me home and parked his car in front of my house. He walked me to the front door and kissed me goodnight. I yawned. I didn’t mean to, but it happened.
“Do you want to—” I interrupted myself with another yawn. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“You’re tired. I think you’re still recovering from whatever those drugs were that you ingested. With all the excitement of the evening, I think it’s time for you to get some sleep. And while I’m tempted to come in and help you into bed, I think I’d be tempted to stay.” He kissed me gently on the lips, holding me in an embrace longer than he ever had.
I yawned again. I couldn’t deny it—I was exhausted.
“Get some sleep, and I’ll talk with you tomorrow,” he said, as he headed down my front steps, turning back and smiling as he went. I waved goodbye to him and shut the door. I ambled toward my bedroom, thinking about Zachary. A feeling of warmth flooded over me. Zachary was a terrific guy, even though he had a hard time expressing himself at times. My reverie was interrupted by the sound of Gummie meowing frantically. The sound was coming from my studio.
“What’s up?” I asked my cat, entering the studio. I found him on my workbench, pacing back and forth in front the window, much as I’d seen Daniel do a little while ago.
“Yello, yellooooo, yeLLOOO,” Gumdrop said.
I pulled back the blinds and looked out the window. Sitting on the window ledge outside was the orange kitten who had scared off the burglar the other night.
“Yello?” Gummie repeated.
“Is this little kitty bothering you, Gummie? Is this why you’ve been so out of sorts?” The window was open a crack. There was a screen in place, so Gummie couldn’t have escaped through the opening.
What I wasn’t sure about was how Gummie felt about the kitten. Was he trying to tell me something? Either good or bad? Concerned the kitten was out at night, and wasn’t safe, I wanted to try to get her into the house. I was worried I might spook her if I opened the door. I went to the kitchen and put a few spoons of tuna into a bowl. I brought it back and put it on the workbench. The kitten eagerly sniffed at the screen. Gently and slowly, I opened the window a little further, exposing more of the screen. All the while, Gumdrop paced back and forth, meowing.
I found a razor blade on my worktable and cut open the screen, creating an opening for the kitten, who, motivated by the smell of the tuna, scampered in through the hole. While the kitten chowed down on the tuna, I slid the window shut. Gumdrop, who was usually not very nice to anyone who he saw as an invader—such as potential boyfriends and basset hounds—seemed smitten with the little orange cat. H
e walked back and forth next to the kitten, meowing in his distinctive way.
“Yello, yello, yellooooo.”
“This little kitten isn’t yellow, Gummie,” I said, picking up the kitten who had finished eating and whose belly was now swollen to about the size and tautness of a tennis ball. “She’s orange, or more like ginger. That’s what I’ll call her—Ginger—at least until we find her owner.”
I understood now why Gummie had been sick. The kitten sneezed. As I looked into Ginger’s eyes, I saw the same discharge I’d seen in Gumdrop’s. She must’ve infected him by passing her germs through the window screen.
“I need to take you to see Dr. Brown,” I said to the kitten. I’d heard Buff’s motorcycle pull up out front a few minutes earlier, so I was pretty sure Buff was next door with Val. I hoped I wouldn’t be interrupting anything. Gumdrop was at my heels, following me to the door as I carried the kitten through the house.
“Sorry, Gummie, you don’t get to come with us,” I said, opening my front door.
I knocked on Val’s door. When she answered, her hair was a little messy and her lipstick smudged.
“Maybe I should come back later,” I said, backing away from the door and ready to bolt back inside my house with Ginger.
“Oh, no, it’s okay. We’re, um, not doing anything that can’t be interrupted.”
I didn’t want to know. Okay, I did want to know. I peered over Val’s shoulder. Buff was playing tug-o-war with Stanley on the carpet.
“Stanley’s getting acquainted with Buff,” Val said, smoothing her hair down a little, though it bounced back up as soon as she removed her hand. “What have you got there?”
“This kitten’s been hanging around my back door, and Gummie seems to adore her.”
“Aw, she—or he—is adorable,” Val said, tickling the kitten under the chin with her long, red nails. “Oh, but I think she might be sick. Look at the yucky stuff in her eyes.”
Buff joined us at the door. He took the kitten from me, then he gave it a quick look under the tail.
“You can safely say ‘she,’” he said. “Oh, and the poor baby has a cold. No wonder Gumdrop ended up with it. They’ve clearly been hanging out together.”
“Yes, I think they’ve been talking through the window screen,” I said.
Stanley, upset that Buff had given up the game with him, started bounding around the room. It was also possible that he smelled the kitten.
“I think he wants to see the kitten,” Val said.
“Well, I think we’d best wait until she’s well before for we introduce her to Stanley,” Buff said.
“What should I do now?” I asked.
“We need to see if this kitten has an ID chip. Bring her round to the office tomorrow and I’ll scan her. If there’s no chip, then I think it’s safe to say she’s a stray. You could take her down to animal control, or hold on to her and put up some signs and post on Craigslist if you want to find her a home.”
“And if I want to keep her?”
“If you try to find the owner, and one doesn’t show up, she’s all yours. Then you’ll need to bring her in for shots and she’ll need to be spayed. The eye drops I gave you for Gumdrop—you can use them on her as well. Have you got a name for this little pipsqueak?”
“I’m thinking about calling her Ginger.”
“She is a ginger color,” Buff agreed.
As I got ready to head back to my side of the duplex, Val handed me a familiar box. It was the donation from Amanda Greer that Val had won in the auction.
“Do you think you could fix this necklace for me?”
“Sure, that’s easy. What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s a little too long for me. Maybe you can make it a little shorter, and I wouldn’t mind if you could make it a little more sparkly.” Of course, she wanted more sparkle.
“Sure, Val, I’m happy to fix it.”
With the box in one hand and a kitten in the other, I headed back to my side of the duplex. I didn’t really need a kitten, but it seemed to me that Gumdrop did, and I was happy to oblige.
TWENTY-FIVE
Zachary called the next day to check on me, but what I really wanted to know was what had happened with Daniel.
“We got a full confession. It took a while to get the truth out of him. He was a convincing actor, but then again, we have some excellent interrogators. Daniel knew about the drugs Nika was bringing into the country. She had confided in him about where the money was coming from that paid his salary. Austin had realized things were not as they seemed. He had threatened to take the whole thing to the police, but he didn’t want his wife to end up in prison for drug trafficking, so he didn’t do anything right away. Daniel knew if Austin went to the police that the theater would shut down.”
“But with Austin dead, wasn’t that likely as well?” I asked.
“Yes, I suppose so, but it was a risk he was willing to take. Especially since he had Nika on the inside, who was able to talk with Amanda Greer and could convince her to keep the theater open in Austin’s memory. You see, Nika really had control of the whole thing.”
“But who killed Austin? Was it Nika?”
“No, Daniel confessed. And I think he was rather impressed with himself about how he did it and proud of how well he pulled off the distressed theater employee act.”
Ugh! I wanted to strangle that rat for fooling us. But, I assumed he’d be getting his just desserts in prison.
“So, how did he hit Austin with the chandelier—that must’ve been next to impossible to orchestrate.”
“Daniel would wait every night in the technician’s booth for Austin to place the ghost light in a particular spot on the stage. Daniel had marked the spot with a piece of glow-in-the-dark tape, so Austin could place it in exactly the right spot. On the night he murdered Austin, Daniel moved the tape so it was directly below the chandelier, then climbed into the lighting grid above the stage and waited for Austin to roll the ghost light into position. Then he released the cable and its safety chain.”
“Such a gruesome way to go.”
“That’s for sure. And he left that night through the Underground, coming out through Cassie’s shop. That way, anyone who lingered in the parking lot after the rehearsal wouldn’t see him leave. And he could be the first to arrive the following morning and discover the body.”
“And that’s what caught Daniel off guard—he didn’t know Cassie had installed security gates that would make it impossible for him to make that escape again. But why would he want to burn down the theater? I don’t get it,” I said.
“He was spooked when the Greers’ daughter, Vivian, or Vega as she’s known these days, showed up the night of the auction. She knew her way around the theater, and Daniel was certain she’d find his records, which he’d stored in a box marked Pyro in their lower level storage area,” Zachary said.
“Dammit! I saw the box labeled Pyro, and even saw him try to light it on fire. I thought it had fireworks inside—I would never have thought to look inside.”
“Apparently Daniel was trying to destroy the records before Vega found them. He was certain that if Vega understood what he and Nika had been doing with the drug smuggling, she’d go to the police.”
“So, did he confess to breaking into my house?” I asked.
“He did. But ultimately, since nothing went missing, and there are so many other crimes committed, that’s the least of Daniel’s worries.”
“How did he even know where I lived?”
“Nika had your address. It’s on your business card. You might want to think about getting a P.O. box so random people aren’t showing up at your door in the future,” he said.
“So it was Nika and Daniel working together?”
“Daniel has pretty much thrown Nika under the bus, saying it was all her idea to kill Austin Greer. She was
the one smuggling the drugs. Daniel was simply the one funneling the money into the theater, and of course, is responsible for Mr. Greer’s death, though he says he was just following her orders.”
“I don’t think Daniel is as innocent as he’s pretending to be.”
“Me neither, but it will come out in court, someday,” Zachary said.
“Did you find Amanda Greer?” I asked.
“We did. She was in her panic room, like you thought she might be. So, kudos to you, Jax.”
“And did you find the drugs in the panic room too?”
“No. We didn’t find a thing.”
• • •
I got a call from Bev Marley the Monday after the auction.
“I want to thank you for helping me with my investigation,” she said.
“I don’t think I helped that much, but, you’re welcome,” I said.
“We’ve still got some work to do to obtain their financial data, but it looks like there’s a long history of the Greers buying expensive items and then turning around and donating them to nonprofits. Then they’d take massive write-offs on their business and personal taxes. That’s not what I expected to find—it’s not money laundering per se, but tax fraud is still a crime.
“But what about the drugs? Did you find them?”
“Sorry, Jax, we searched the house and the warehouse and found nothing.”
“Look, I know what Nika said. She and Amanda were bringing heroin in from Thailand.”
“We didn’t get a confession from Amanda. She seemed like she came clean on everything and didn’t know anything about drugs. Maybe Nika lied to you? Criminals do lie,” Bev said.
“Can’t you talk with Nika and get some answers? She got the drugs from somewhere because she’d been giving them to Austin, and she gave them to me, too.”
“Nika’s gotten herself some lawyers, and she’s not saying much at this point. Well, hon, it’s been nice working with you. You’ve been a real pro. Hope to see you around.” Bev wished me well and hung up.
To Bead or Not to Bead, Glass Bead Mystery Series, Book 4 Page 19