Double Black Diamond (Mercy Watts Mysteries) (14 page)

I pushed the down button on the panel and Aaron came up behind me, chewing. The doors opened and I stepped inside and held the door for him. He blinked and took a bite.
 

“Are you coming?”
 

“Nope.”
 

“Why not?” I asked.
 

“Cause you’re trying to Fike me.”
 

Damnit.

I was trying to Fike Aaron, but I was amazed that he knew it. My dad’s first partner, Michael Fike, ditched him so often the guys in the squadron started calling it, “Getting Fiked.”
 

I let go of the door. “Have a good one.” I’d just ride down and take the stairs up to the penthouse.
 

I’ll Fike you, Aaron. I’ll Fike you good.

The elevator stopped at the first floor. There was a loud ding and the doors opened. Uncle Morty and Fergus stood there.
 

“Hello, Mercy,” said Fergus.
 

“What the hell?”
 

Uncle Morty smiled. “Going somewhere?”
 

“Yes, I am. You, you giant pain in my butt.” I squeezed past them and ran for it into the locker room.
 

“Get her, Fergus!” yelled Uncle Morty.
 

I dodged multitudes of skiers, jumping over boots, and landing in puddles of slush. Fergus was hot on my trail, the little weasel. How was this helping me? I rammed the outer door open and slid out into the snow-packed thoroughfare. Slipping around I went right into the shop between racks of ski pants. People who under-packed for the cold snap blocked my way at every turn. I looked back and spotted Fergus up on his tiptoes trying to see me. I crouched down. Finally, an advantage to being short. I made it through to the hats and gloves section where I bumped into a well-padded leg.
 

“Excuse me,” said a woman with faded blond pigtails and a questionable hat with way too many pom-poms on it.
 

“Sorry,” I said, skulking away.
 

“Are you hiding?” asked the woman’s partner, also well-pompomed.
 

“More like avoiding.”
 

They put their heads together. “Who are you avoiding?”
 

“Young guy. Curly hair. Scottish accent.” I made the big eyes. “He just won’t take no for an answer.”
 

Pink Pom-Poms stood up. “That’s outrageous!”

“I’ll give him a piece of my mind to feast upon and I’d hope he’d have a good appetite for it,” said purple Pom-Poms.
 

I grinned. “Mrs. Cratchit, my favorite.”
 

Purple Pom-Poms fluttered her fingers over her chest. “A literary girl. That cinches it.”
 

The ladies stalked off in search of the hapless Fergus and I crouched my way to the hall exit, and then to the stairs. Once inside, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was trying to do a good thing. All I wanted was Keegan’s oil. It may have been illegal, but it was right.
 

I trotted up the stairs and nearly ran over Aaron who stood on the second floor landing sans bread bowl.
 

“Hey,” he said.
 

My shoulders slumped. “I can’t believe it. How did you know?”
 

He pointed at the lockpicks in my hand.
 

I am such an idiot.

“Fine. You’ve got me. Are you my partner for real?”
 

“Huh?”
 

“I mean for real as in you’ll back me up no matter what?”
 

“What is what?” Aaron scratched his belly under the bat signal.
 

I leaned in and got a whiff of his hot-dog scent. “What is illegal.”

“You’ve done it before.”
 

“Not like this.” I got Keegan’s picture out of my pocket. “I’m going to bring him cannabis oil. He’s dying.”
 

“Alice’s Answer?”
 

I was so surprised I could only stammer.
 

“Okay,” said Aaron. “Up?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Penthouse level. You can’t tell anyone, not even Morty. I don’t want anyone involved. This is on me.”
 

“And me.”
 

I hugged him. I’d never done that before and he was squishier than I expected and I expected quite a lot.

“You don’t have to come,” I said.
 

“I’m coming.”
 

We went up the stairs to the top level and I peeked out into the hall. It was empty. No police presence and there wasn’t any crime scene tape on Rory’s door. Lucky for me it had a regular lock, since it was privately owned and not a rental. There was a way to get past electronic locks, but Dad hadn’t taught me that yet, since it didn’t come up much.
 

“Keep an eye out. Okay?” I said.

Aaron nodded. “You hungry?”
 

“I’m exhausted and freaked.” I pressed my ear against the door. Nothing. Then I knocked, just in case. No one answered, so I went to work with my picks. I really should practice like Dad says. This is a skill that I actually use, unlike the bassoon that Mom made me play.
 

Fast but not fast enough for me, there was a click. I put away my picks and put on the gloves. “I’ll be right back.”
 

Aaron popped a purple square of Bubble Yum in his mouth and nodded. I went in closing the door behind me. The condo was gorgeous and twice as big as ours. They had thick Persian carpets and cushy leather chairs. There were skiing clothes and paraphernalia all over. More than for one person. Rory’s friends must’ve been staying with him.
 

I went through the first bedroom. Nothing. Then the second. Also nothing. That’s when I got queasy. And it only got worse as I went through cabinets and drawers. The oil wasn’t there. I touched the picture in my pocket. Keegan, where’s your oil?

I wanted to keep searching, but in my heart I knew it was hopeless. I opened the door and just about lost what was left of my mind. Uncle Morty’s voice was booming down the hall. He was by the elevator. It was inset about five feet, so all I could see was him and an arm clad in a blue uniform.
 

I grabbed Aaron and dragged him into the condo. He was unperturbed as usual.
 

“What kind of lookout are you?” I asked.
 

“Morty stopped them.”
 

“Morty isn’t supposed to be there.”
 

“He’s here.”
 

“Thanks for the bulletin.”
 

I listened through a crack in the door and I wasn’t happy.
 

“I’m in Penthouse Four,” he said. “Morton Barclay Van Der Hoof.”
 

“And you know Mercy Watts?” asked Detective Carey.

“Hell yeah I know her. Real pain in the ass. Her dad’s my best friend. Hell of a guy.”

“We’d like to talk to her. I believe she’s getting herself involved in the Dushane case.”
 

Uncle Morty made a flappy lip noise. “Mercy, a detective, get serious. She’s a girl. You seen her? Maybe she could investigate lip gloss or nail care.”
 

I’ll remember this the next time you have a bunion, old man.

“Do you know where she is right now?” asked Sullivan.
 

“Down in the ski shop. Apparently her scarf wasn’t pretty enough.”
 

“Thanks for your help, Mr. Van Der Hoof.”
 

“Don’t mention it.”
 

A minute later there was a knock on Rory’s door. “All clear, Miss Marple.”

I opened the door and there was Uncle Morty with his arms crossed over his big belly.
 

“I can’t believe you,” I said.
 

“Me either. I am pretty good.”

My voice went up to a high squeak. “I might just have to kill you.”

“Quiet,” Morty said. “We’re in stealth mode here, ain’t we?”

“I’m in hell. I don’t know about you.” I closed the door, made sure it locked, and stripped off my gloves. I pointed at Aaron. “You promised.”
 

Uncle Morty stuck a beefy finger in my face. “He didn’t tell me shit. I’ve known you since you were five minutes old and you ain’t half as slick as you think you are.”
 

“Well, I guess I just suck then. Where’s Fergus? Waiting to waylay me in the stairs?”
 

“Nah. Last I saw he was getting yelled at by a couple of old chicks in the ski shop. Your work?”
 

“That was me.”
 

“Not bad.”

“Thanks, I guess.”
 

“Don’t look so down in the dumps. The cops probably took it,” said Morty.

“What?” I asked in my innocent voice. I don’t know why I bothered. Morty always assumed I was guilty. Of course he was right, but it was irritating just the same.

“Whatever you’re looking for,” he said.
 

I looked at Aaron, who was completely blank as usual.
 

Morty eyed me and looked down the hall. “Better hurry it up, girl. Somebody’s bound to come along and they’ll remember you next to the vic’s condo. You’re not easy to forget.”
 

I took off down the hall to the elevator. “They’d remember you, too.”
 

“Not if I’m with you. I’d just be some guy standing next to Marilyn Monroe.”
 

“Whatever. I didn’t get caught.”
 

“Wrong. I caught you,” he said. “What are you working on? This better not be for the Fibonaccis.”
 

The Fibonaccis were the Mafia family I’d accidentally gotten involved with last summer. For the record, I’d never worked for them. Not on purpose anyway.
 

“It’s personal,” I said.
 

“The only personal life you got is with that skinny doctor and I bet he don’t know nothing about this.”
 

I pushed the elevator button.

“Course I could enlighten him and those white bread parents of his.” His face changed expression and he would’ve made a gorilla look friendly.
 

“What are you mad about?” I asked. “So far I’ve been caught red-handed and made to sound like a useless nitwit.”
 

“Pete don’t deserve you.”
 

“I thought you liked Pete.” As much as he liked anyone, which wasn’t much.

Elevator opened and I went in.
 

“He’s lying to them parents, like you ain’t good enough. You’re better than them by a long sight, smarter, too.”
 

“I don’t know about that,” I said.
 

“I seen your SAT score.” He let go of the door and it began to close. “I’m talking to that Pete.”

“No. Don’t— ”

Smarter than Pete. That was a laugh. My SATs had been good, but I’d always considered them some sort of cosmic accident. My parents did not. After Mom stopped screaming with joy, she framed my letter and hung it in Dad’s office. She said it was to remind her that I was smart despite all the stupid stuff I did.
 

Nine years later I was still doing stupid stuff. Agreeing to smuggle pot oil from a guy that just had to get himself attacked before giving it to me. I didn’t know how I was going to get that oil. I didn’t have a clue where it was. Cecile was counting on me. It was a matter of life and death.

Chapter Nine

Spidermonkey got back to me two hours later with everything to know about Rory Dushane and Open Mind Medicinals. The facts were more pedestrian than I expected. Open Mind was well-thought of in the medical community by those who were able to look beyond traditional medicine and the rest grudgingly said the company was harmless. Rory had had a few scrapes with the law such as speeding and tagging UPS trucks. His graffiti was beautiful in my opinion, but UPS didn’t agree. Other than that he was your typical eighteen-year-old. He attended UCCS in the business program and worked for his dad. Eddy was wrong about the money though. It was Rory’s mom that paid for the penthouse condo. She owned White Glove Housekeeping, Inc and was very much in the black. Open Mind operated on a shoestring and as far as Spidermonkey could tell Rory’s dad was a do-gooder out to change the world, not to get rich.
 

Spidermonkey, of course, knew what had happened to Rory and expressed concern about my involvement. I said I had nothing to do with anything, but he didn’t believe me. Nobody ever does when it comes to that. He did say that the cops had zero leads. I don’t know how he found that out and I didn’t want to know. It was too disturbing to dwell on the all-access pass that he and Uncle Morty had to people’s lives, including my own.
 

Guys like them were good to know. Spidermonkey especially. He liked the look of Open Mind and if, just if, I was investigating the stabbing, he would research at a discounted rate. I’d never been so shocked in my life. Uncle Morty would charge me for investigating his own stabbing.
 

I thanked Spidermonkey and left it at that. I didn’t know who to investigate or why. I would’ve asked him if the cops had taken vials of Alice’s Answer into evidence, but I wasn’t sure I wanted Spidermonkey to connect it to me. He’d start asking questions. Questions that I didn’t want to answer.
 

The rest of my day was spent washing the dog pee out of my suitcase and waiting for Rodney to come back from the hospital. It took nearly five hours and when they got back Pete said they were swamped with ten broken wrists. Thanks, snowboarding. And various other resort-related injuries. I’d planned a quiet night, cuddling my bony boyfriend in front of the fire, but it was not to be.
 

Nancy had inexplicably fallen in love with Rodney, had declared him in need of mothering, and we were spending the evening in Uncle Morty’s penthouse condo. Fergus my new stalker had been invited. My vacation was starting to look a lot like my life, nerd posse and all.