by Becki Willis
“I always listen to you, Brash. I just don’t always take your advice,” she added cheekily.
Even though he often accused her of butting into official police business while helping her clients, he had recommended her services to a private investigator. The Houston agency frequently used her as a local contact, and Maddy had tossed around the idea of getting her own PI license. With Brash’s help, she was honing her skills as a good investigator and observant detective.
Her sharp mind, however, was the biggest asset in her success. Like now, she was quick to bring up several valid points. Brash discussed each one with her, until the intercom interrupted.
“Yes, Vina?”
“Dane Cessna on line two, Chief. He wants to ask you about the recent Christmas crimes.”
Brash groaned aloud, his shoulders sagging in exaggerated disgust. “Too late to keep it out of the presses. Your cousin has already heard.”
Maddy made a sad face. “Thanks in part, I’m sure, to our grandmother. You know Granny Bert is all over this.” Though no longer mayor of Juliet, Bertha Cessna was still in the loop. Not much happened in either town that slipped the old gal’s attention.
“I need to take this, sweetheart. That ‘Christmas Crimes’ sounds suspiciously like a headline. Not to mention a hashtag.”
“I understand. Call me later. Love you.” Madison brushed a chaste kiss across his lips and gathered her files.
“Love you, too. Be careful out there, and keep your eyes open.” Brash pushed the illuminated button on the phone. As Madison hurried out the door, she heard him greet her cousin, owner and reporter for the local paper. “Dane, hello. Chief deCordova here. What can I do for you?”
Madison stopped at the desk to speak to Vina Jones. There was no determining the black woman’s age, but she had been an institution at the police department for as long as anyone could remember. Brash swore that without Vina, the office would fall apart.
At one time intimidated by the woman’s scrutinizing gaze, Madison now considered Vina a great ally and an invaluable source of help, if not information. The coordinator might guide Maddy in the right direction, but she never divulged classified details. Vina Jones was a consummate professional.
“Vina, do me a favor.”
“Anything, Madison.” She qualified her ready response with a cool, “Within my power, of course.”
“Of course, Vina. I would never expect anything else.” The smile died on her face as Madison shot a worried glance at Brash’s closed door and confided, “I’m worried about him, Vina. He’s working himself to a frazzle.”
“I can’t say I don’t agree.”
“He won’t talk to me about it, probably to keep me from worrying so much. But that, of course, only makes me worry more.”
Vina nodded in agreement, her face grim. “He’s determined to find this gambling ring. It’s like he’s driven. I’ve never seen him this way.”
“He’s asked me to help investigate the recent break-ins, so that he can spend more time on the gambling case. That alone tells me how serious this is.”
“I’m glad the chief called you in to help,” Vina said with approval. “Now he can focus on shutting down this ring, once and for all. It’s been operating for over a year, and every time he thinks he’s close, they slip away.”
“No wonder he’s taking it so personally,” she murmured.
“Between us, we’ll keep an eye on him,” the older woman assured her. “We won’t let this get him down. The main thing he needs is plenty of rest, to keep him sharp and focused.”
“We can try to make him relax, but Brash deCordova is a stubborn man. It’s hard to make him do something he doesn’t want to do.”
Vina flashed her pearly whites. “The trick, then, is to change what it is he thinks he wants to do, eh?”
Madison was still laughing when she left the building.
Brash dropped the phone back into its cradle. Last night had been a nice reprieve from the pressures of the job, but the morning had wasted no time in reminding him where his duties lay. At least Dane Cessna agreed not to run a sensational story in the paper. He promised to downplay the probability of more thefts, while urging residents to be vigilant during the holidays.
While the thefts were concerning, the lawman’s real worry was the increased threat of the gambling ring.
Like in most towns, poker games were common. Even though playing for money was technically illegal, Brash was willing to overlook a friendly wager between friends. Last year, however, there were rumors the games were no longer quite so friendly and the wagers no longer so small. There was mention of known hard-core gamblers involved. Hints of organized crime. Some said that Ronny Gleason invited the unsavory element into the game, but with his death last January, the rumors had faded. So had the games. A few continued to pop up here and there, mostly in other parts of the county, but Brash heard no more reports of cockfighting. Things had cooled down, at least until recently.
Now the poker games were back. Brash didn’t think it was a coincidence that Tom Haskell was released from prison over the summer. Even from behind bars, the man had managed to keep his fingers in organized gambling. Tom may or may not have been the one behind the initial move into the county, but Brash had no doubt the man would soon make an appearance. Where the money went, the criminals were sure to follow.
Gambling wasn’t the only thing that worried Brash. As always, there was the very real threat of drugs. More than a threat, it was a reality. No town, no matter how small or how safe, was immune to the ugly beast.
It rankled Brash that during last spring’s big drug bust, the top boss had gotten away. Maddy and Derron had inadvertently stumbled upon a meth lab, which led to the arrest of several cooks and dealers. While any arrest meant one less lowlife on the street, letting the boss slip through his hands felt like a personal failure.
Much, he had to admit, like knowing the big boss behind the gambling ring was still at large.
Ignoring the pop in his knee and the tight muscles bunched in his neck, Brash stood and went to his whiteboards. He studied them every day, trying to make some new connection, trying to pull some new thread. The answer was here somewhere; he simply had to find it.
One board was dedicated to the fight against drugs, the other to the fight against gambling. Brash wasn’t convinced the two weren’t connected, but he was handling them as separate entities.
For now, the gambling board was his primary focus. He looked it over with a sharp eye. What was he missing?
The games didn’t just pop up at random. They were planned, they were staged, and they were carefully orchestrated. Unfortunately, the law was always one step behind the action. The ever-changing games would come and go by the time the law showed up. Brash was confident that would eventually change. The migrant nature of illegal activity meant organizers had to depend on word of mouth to broadcast the next time and location. Word of mouth was never dependable. Soon, someone would slip up. And when they did, he planned to be there.
After ten minutes of seeing nothing new, Brash returned to his desk. He took out a file and studied the names inside. He kept a list of every person known to have some connection to gambling, no matter how small or trivial their involvement. He included innocent weekly games, even those his own family and friends attended. Their names were on his lists, too.
He kept another list of names for anyone known to attend or bet on cockfights. Whether he liked it or not, he had Maddy to thank for some of those names. Last year, she and Genny spied on a fight, to clear her client’s name of murder charges. He had ranted at the time, railing at her against the dangers and stupidity of such a stunt, but he had to admit, she had been onto something.
Cross-referencing the two lists, he had underlined any name that appeared on both. If those names appeared on any of the other lists he kept—those for drugs, theft, petty crimes, etc.—they earned an additional underline.
Only a handful of names had multiple lines
.
A steely smile touched his face, but it was hardly one of amusement. He was tired of sitting back and biding his time. Brash was a man of action, and sitting here, waiting for the organizers to make their next move, wasn’t only passive, it was boring. With only six names on the list, it wouldn’t take long to pay each person a visit. Just a friendly little reminder that he was watching them.
His smile broadened. This time, a bit of amusement slipped amid the grooves of his smile. Anticipation danced in his eyes. This ought to shake things up a bit.
Brash grabbed his cowboy hat and stuffed it onto his head. He rushed out the door and past Vina, informing her he was going out. He burst out into the day with new determination, new vigor.
Let the games begin.
CHAPTER FOUR
Madison sat amid the pillows of Vanessa Hutchins’ couch, wondering how long it had taken the woman to acquire such a mass volume of Christmas cheer. The stuff was everywhere.
“I’ve already started re-shopping,” the woman said over a mug of hot chocolate. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is, trying to remember if you bought a particular gift the first time, or the second? Glory be, I would be lost without my lists!”
“I’m sure,” Madison murmured, but her attention had snagged on the fireplace. She counted no less than twenty-seven snowmen crowded upon the mantel. More spilled over onto a table nearby, with several displayed on the floor beneath it. The snowman collection was small in comparison to Vanessa’s Santa collection.
“And of course, I simply can’t find some of the things a second time, and certainly not at Black Friday prices.”
“Really? I find Black Friday to be overrated.” In truth, Madison didn’t partake in the madness. Not even this year, when money was in short supply.
“You have to know how to shop, dear. There’s a method to the madness.” She launched into a ten-minute tutorial on how to best shop for Christmas bargains, leaving her guest with a dazed expression upon her face.
Madison couldn’t decide if she was fascinated or horrified. Perhaps a bit of both.
“You—You should write a how-to guide,” she murmured, for lack of something appropriate to say.
“Glory be, that would defeat the whole purpose!” Vanessa claimed. “The whole idea is to outsmart the other shoppers. If everyone knew my method, I wouldn’t have an ace up my sleeve!”
“Speaking of Black Friday, let’s start there. Do you recall any shoppers getting particularly angry with you that day?”
Vanessa’s eyes twinkled. “If you do the day right, there’s always shoppers angry with you!” she boasted.
“But no particular one comes to mind? No one you recognized who may have resented you for grabbing the deal they were after?”
“Well, I do recall that Susan Dewberry and Patricia Jones were in a huff when I grabbed the last two Puff-a-Luffs.”
“The junior high teachers?”
“Yes, exactly. We were both headed to the same display, you see, and Patricia was taller than I was. She had her hand on the last two dolls, but I swooped in underneath, grabbed the dolls by the legs, and made off with them!” Her dramatic play-by-play was befitting a brave rescue effort, not an underhanded shopping expedition.
“And you didn’t feel guilty about taking the dolls she had her hands on?”
Vanessa stared at her in confusion, as if she suddenly didn’t understand English. She blinked a time or two before offering her wide-eyed explanation. “But they were seventy percent off. Of course, I didn’t feel guilty.”
Let it go, Maddy, she cautioned herself. Keep your opinions to yourself.
“That’s the only altercation you can recall that day?”
“There was also the incident over the orthopedic shoe inserts.”
Madison’s eyes widened. “There’s a Black Friday special for shoe inserts?”
“Oh, yes. Smart retailers know to spread the specials throughout the store, not just on popular Christmas gifts. In fact, that’s part of my strategy. You see—”
Breaking in, Madison said, “I’d really like to hear more about the incident you mentioned.”
“Oh, yes. Well, I knew the inserts would be going on sale, and glory be, Larry wears the most popular size. They’re often out of stock, so the day before, I hid two packages of inserts behind the Kotex display. I put them in the very back, so that unless there was a sudden epidemic of menstrual flooding, the display would stay full and keep the inserts hidden. What I didn’t know was that they would have a Black Friday special on feminine napkins.” She rolled her eyes in frustration. “Just as I rolled up to the Kotex display, I see Georgia Dewberry there.”
“You mean Susan Dewberry?”
“No, her sister-in-law, Georgia. The one with four teenage daughters. I don’t have to tell you, she was stocking up on those napkins, left and right. Glory be, she cleaned that shelf off all the way to the back, and there my inserts were, bare to the world! Just as I stepped up to get them, her mother spotted them and made a grab for them. I did feel kind of bad, almost knocking the older woman down, but those were my inserts! I’m putting them in Larry’s stocking. Georgia jumped all down my throat, her little boy started crying, and before long, here came Susan, still mad about the Puff-a-Luff incident. No telling what might have happened next, but I yelled out that I had found Princess Mia dolls over on the Kotex aisle, and soon the place was swarming with shoppers. I slipped away and went to find the toothpaste I had hidden in the Ben Gay display.”
Left speechless, Madison could only say, “I see.”
“Other than that, the most exciting thing that happened was that I saved almost fifty percent on a matching set of bra and panties. They were for me, so luckily, they weren’t stolen. Would you like to see?” Vanessa leaned forward, as if to shift her clothes.
“No!” Madison didn’t mean for the word to come out so forceful, but at least Vanessa sank back down into the cushions. “Let’s move on. I understand you returned to town on the following Tuesday to purchase your paper?”
“I went to three different stores to find it all. I use a different paper theme every year, you see, and this year it was snowflakes.”
Madison hated to admit it, but on this, she could relate. She used a different paper for each person. It first started with colors—all red packages, for instant, went to her side of the family, all green packages went to Gray’s. It made finding gifts under the tree so much easier. When the twins were born, she took it one step further. Bethani had her own special paper, Blake had his. This year, she was adding papers for Brash and Megan, a fact that pleased her to no end.
“Did anything unusual happen on that day?”
“Not that I recall. It was a quick trip, over there and back.”
Madison took notes, jolting when she heard the unfamiliar HoHo, HoHo of the cuckoo clock.
“Isn’t that delightful?” Vanessa beamed. “I found a Christmas cuckoo clock at a garage sale, but glory be, it didn’t work. I salvaged the Santa and every year, I have my clocksmith change it out for me.”
“There’s still such a thing as a clocksmith?”
“Oh, yes. I use one right over in Riverton.”
“By the way, do you know Reggie and Mona Carr?”
“I know who they are, of course, but we don’t travel in the same circles. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious. So, about your Bunco group…”
After visiting with Vanessa for another hour, Madison escaped with her sanity hanging by a thread. Vanessa had a story or anecdote for every question she asked. Between the stereo, the musical pillows and rugs, and the motion-activated plush, Maddy was certain she had heard every Christmas song known to man. Her head was pounding, and she still had to swing by the Carrs.
“Someone broke into my car and stole all our gifts!” Mona Carr complained. “I spent the entire day shopping in Bryan, and for what? A total waste of my time and effort!”
“And my money,” her husband glared.
“Oh, hush up, Reggie. It’s all covered by insurance. Except for my time!”
“It’s not like you do anything all day,” her husband grumbled. “Park your tush in front of the TV and watch those game shows until the kids get in.”
“Right, Reggie. And dinner just magically appears on the table, and clean clothes just magically appear in the drawers. There’s a little rug fairy that comes in and does the carpets, a broom fairy that sweeps the floors.” She made a rude gesture to her husband’s back before huffing, “Men!”
Madison wanted to make this visit as brief as possible. The hostility in the room hung thick as fog.
“I don’t want to keep you, Mrs. Carr. I just wanted to know if there was anything odd or unusual about your shopping trip. Do you recall anyone staring at you, or following you, by chance?”
“Everyone stares at her,” Reggie jeered. “They want to know what that funny-looking thing is on top of her shoulders!”
“Don’t start with me, Reginald. Do not start with me!”
“Please, Mrs. Carr. This could be important.”
“Nope, can’t think of a thing. Shopped all day, stopped for takeout on the way home, left the presents in the car because Mr. Industrious over here said he would unload. But, being the lazy bum that he is, he left them till this morning. But the joke was on him, because some other lazy fool broke the window and stole them all.”
“Who are you calling lazy, you boob-tube diva?”
Mona puffed her chest out like a banty rooster. “Yeah, well, who’s sitting in front of it right now, huh? I’ll give you one hint. Not. Me.”
Insults flung back and forth while Madison scrambled to her feet with her half-finished notes. “I just need one more thing, and you can e-mail that to me,” she offered hastily. “I need a copy of the items stolen.”
“I’ve got that right here,” Mona offered. “I had to make a list of all the items and their approximate value for the insurance guy.”
Madison looked at it just long enough to see a clear case of fraud. Every item listed was top of the line. Half of the items were completely out of character for the Carrs. She glanced around, noting that nothing in the room was name brand. The decor was run-of-the-mill, garage-sale quality. Why on Earth would they buy gifts such as a two-hundred-dollar espresso maker, a pair of designer shoes, and a three-hundred-dollar ice chest? She could believe the basketball goal and the forty-inch flat screen television—both seemed overly fond of the ‘boob tube’—but most of the other items on the list were doubtful.