Now You See It (19 page)

“You're welcome.”

Intriguing, but not necessarily true. Since Rahnee and Fancy were both very attractive women, I doubted they had to do anything extra to get hired. I'd seen Fancy in action, though, and it was possible she could make a knife do whatever she liked.

Jilly was rubbing her shoulder again. “Are you cold?”

She frowned. “No.”

“Hurt your shoulder?”

Her expression said, None of your business, but she answered calmly enough. “Sometimes it itches.”

“Okay. Just curious.” Did you sprain it heaving Taft into the trunk? No, even on a good day, Jilly couldn't manage that.

***

I found Fancy on stage at the Bombay Club, rehearsing her act. She stopped for a moment and came to the edge of the small stage area.

“David, I sincerely hope you're here to tell me you've caught whoever stabbed Rahnee.”

“Wish I had good news for you, but nothing yet.”

“I've got the stage for a few more minutes and then we can talk. Would you start the CD player? I need to time this part.”

I sat down at one of the little tables, pressed play, and watched as Fancy made balls, hoops, and knives spin in dizzying circles above her head. Then she made everything disappear.

When she finished, I applauded, and she took a bow. The music changed from the lively rock theme to another song, something slower and sweeter. She looked startled, and then said, “Turn it off.”

I pushed the off button. Fancy stood still for a moment. “You okay?” I asked.

She took another moment. “Yes, fine. I forgot that was on there. It was my sister's favorite song.”

I wasn't sure what to say.

“Today's her birthday. She would've been thirty-nine. I would've teased her up one side and down the other.” She came and sat down at the table with me. “She died four years ago of cancer. I think of her every single day.”

“I know the feeling.”

“Have you lost a sister, too, David?”

“My daughter.”

“Oh, my God. I'm so sorry.” Fancy's eyes sparkled with tears and suddenly, words burst out. “I still get so angry! How can you be here one moment and be gone the next? Something made you move and breathe and talk. Where's that something now?”

For years, I'd asked myself the same question. Oddly enough, I always thought of a program I'd seen about a woman grieving for her dog. She'd looked at the camera with the most anguished expression. “Where's the thing that made it go?” she'd asked. “Where's the thing that made it go?”

The thing. Life. Some impossible combination of blood and breath and nerves and personality.

Fancy's face was streaked with tears. “You're going to think I'm crazy, but every time I see something as insignificant as a bug, I get so frustrated. Bugs have it. Bugs and worms squirming on the sidewalk and gnats, for God's sake. Things that don't matter! It's still inside them. They still have it. They're still living. I don't understand.”

“Me, either.”

“Why can't we know what happens? What's the big secret? Why can't I know for certain my sister is happy and free from pain? What's with all the mystery?”

I put my hand on hers. I'd asked myself the same questions, over and over. I didn't have any answers. Not for her. Not for me.

Abruptly, she brushed the tears from her eyes. “Sorry for going on like that. You'd think I'd get over it. I mean, it's been four years.”

If I live four hundred years, I'll never get over Lindsey's death. “Who says you have to get over it?”

“Everybody tells me it gets easier as time goes by, and she's in a better place, and you should get on with your life. Things like that. But I want to hear the truth, and the truth is I'm not going to ‘get over it.'”

“No,” I said. “You live through it.”

“I'm sorry,” she said again. “You wanted to ask me some questions?”

I was glad to change the subject. “How long have you and Rahnee known each other?”

She opened the player and took out the CD. “Since high school. We both moved to Parkland about the same time.”

“Any trouble finding work?”

“Rahnee never had any trouble. Club owners took one look and hired her right away.”

“What sort of act did she have?”

“Very sexy stuff. She'd dance around and make things appear and disappear. Scarves, mostly, and handkerchiefs. She was very good.”

“No jealousy between the two of you?”

“No. Our acts were very different.” Her eyes narrowed. “Did someone at the Magic Club suggest that to you?”

“You have to admit it's a possibility. Two extremely attractive magicians in the same town. Maybe a little rivalry going on?”

“I suppose so. Yes, okay, maybe I was a little jealous, but I found plenty of work. And I'm certainly not jealous enough to start flinging knives at anybody. What's my motive? If I attack Rahnee, no more jobs at the Magic Club for me. Word would get out I'm unstable, and then there are no more jobs for me anywhere. That's not something I'd risk.” Her cell phone rang. She checked the number. “Speaking of jobs, excuse me a moment, please. This is a club in Greensboro.”

I told her I'd see her later. I went out to the Fury, sat down, and took a few deep steadying breaths. When my phone rang, I wasn't surprised to see it was Camden. His voice faded in and out like an old radio station.

“I need pizza.”

“What a coincidence. So do I.”

Chapter Twenty-one

She Didn't Do Magic

I picked up Camden and we headed to Pokey's Pizza for some lunch.

Although I was sure he had picked up all the distress from my conversation with Fancy, he didn't comment on it. “What's new at the club? How's Rahnee?”

“She's okay. WizBoy insists he never let anyone use his keys, but he did let Rahnee borrow them one time, and he let Jilly in the club when she locked herself out. Both of these ladies are good at sleight of hand, so I guess either one could've taken a little bone off the key ring without WizBoy noticing.”

“But why would Rahnee throw a knife at herself?”

“Exactly. And aside from a little natural jealousy, why would Jilly throw a knife at her? I talked with Fancy, too, and I can't see that she has any reason to attack Rahnee, either.”

All the tables had little signs announcing that Pokey's was giving kids free pizza for every twenty tickets they brought in from a recycling center. This gave me an idea. While we were waiting for our pizza, I called Sandy's house and asked the housekeeper if Sandy did any recycling. She told me she took the recycling to the center on Marsh Road.

I thanked her and hung up. “Would you like to revisit your troubled dumpster-diving past and dig through some trash, a last ditch effort, so to speak?”

“I'd better eat two pizzas, then.”

“Here's something to make you lose your appetite. I think someone made sure Taft had a mix of medications with a drink so he was completely disoriented when he attempted to escape from the trunk. Which reminds me. A little while ago, I found something called Sneeze Ease behind the bar. I didn't get a good look at the package, but the picture of the pill on the front looked a lot like Taft's pills.” I used my phone to find Sneeze Ease and magnified the photo. “Looks the same to me.” I let Camden have a look.

“But it's not a sleeping pill, is it?”

I read the package. Sneeze Ease was a local drug store chain's brand of Benadryl. “Listen to this. ‘Compare to the ingredients in Benadryl.' It's diphenhydramine. That's one of the drugs Jordan said was found in Taft's body.”

“You found this behind the bar?”

“Jilly said it was her allergy medicine, but anyone who knew the key to the trunk was behind the bar could've unlocked the trunk, spiked Taft's drink, and convinced him to get inside.”

“That's extremely cold.”

“I also found this.” I produced the card. “Recognize the lovely pattern?”

“Yes, I do.” Camden took the card and held it for a few moments. “This has Jilly's feet all over it.”

“It was also behind the bar. Dirk said he helped himself to a drink.” I took the card and put it back in my pocket. “I'll hang onto it just in case.” I paused to listen to the muzak. “Do I hear ‘Have To Believe We Are Magic'?”

Camden listened a moment. “Yep.”

“Yet another magic song.”

“Trying to tell you something?”

“I wish I could hear ‘Who Done It.'”

***

After lunch, we went to the recycling center on Marsh Road. I explained who I was and what I was looking for and asked if we could look through the recycle bins. We didn't find the bracelet, and Camden didn't get any helpful vibes. The center also had several large trash piles.

“While we're here, we might as well check those, too,” I said.

The man in charge gave us some plastic gloves and showed us the places to avoid.

“Them stacks over there are from the housing development, and them stacks over yonder come from the hospital. If I was you, I'd look over there by the fence. That's the stuff what come from some of the richer neighborhoods in town.”

Camden and I waded through the trash for about an hour. I found a pretty nice belt, and Camden found a perfectly good baseball cap, but mainly it was garbage and soggy things we didn't want to inspect too closely.

Camden peeled something sticky from his sneakers. “This really is above and beyond my duties as a sidekick.”

“I thought you liked this kind of thing.”

“Every now and then I touch something that gives me a real kick in the brain. You wouldn't think a disposable aluminum pan would have bad vibes, but whoever cooked that dinner was madder than hell about something.”

“Why can't you be like one of those dousing rods and pinpoint the bracelet?”

“Why can't you have a better idea than this?”

“Because I've run out of ideas, and I hate to admit defeat.”

Camden dug through another plastic trash bag. “Oh, look. A baseball to go with my hat.” He rooted around for the ball and came up with another object. “Here's a broken cell phone. Too bad it's not Taft's.”

“Yes, where the hell's his phone? He gets the call while he's in Charlotte, rushes back to the Magic Club, meets the killer, gets killed, and that's it. If he left the phone in his car, the police would've found it. If it was in his pocket, or fell out in the trunk, the police would've found it.”

“What about a coat pocket?”

“I checked the coat he left in Rahnee's office.”

“As cold as it's been, he would've had on another coat Saturday night, right?”

“Good question. I'll have to check.”

We searched for another hour and then decided we were too cold and too smelly to continue. It's fortunate that there's more than one shower at Grace Street. When I'd finished with mine, I went down to the island. On the coffee table was a shoe box set on its side with paper figures stuck inside. Something from one of Kary's students, no doubt, a diorama, I think they call them. I'd helped Lindsey make one about dinosaurs. I remembered how each little paper tree had to be placed exactly right and how she delighted in having a real clay volcano with red lava spilling over the side.

Damn
.

I thought of the DVD, and for a moment, considered watching it.

No, not yet. Maybe never. But it was almost impossible to resist. To see that shining little face…

Not yet.

Camden came in, buttoning his faded blue corduroy robe, his wet hair in spikes. He went past me into the kitchen with only the slightest hesitation. I knew he could feel my emotions like waves of heat off a hot pavement, but he always knew when I wasn't in the mood to discuss them. He came back with a large plastic cup of Coke and sat on the sofa. The blue robe had faded in stages, so the sleeves and collar were darker than the rest, and the buttons were secured with large safety pins.

“There's something else you're going to have to get rid of,” I said.

“Not this. This is my favorite robe.”

“Out with the garbage, pal. Trust me.”

He looked down at the worn sleeves. “I won't marry her, then.”

The back door slammed, and Rufus came in. I'm sure there's some bizarre southern saying that would describe how he looked, like “a deer in headlights,” or “a possum on New Year's.”

“Whew! There's more to this wedding business than I thought! How'd you go through it twice, Randall?”

“All I had to do was show up.”

Rufus sank down on the other end of the sofa. “Well, there's pictures and flowers and invitations and a cake and I don't know what all. Angie's gone wild. You two have got to come up to snuff and propose. I ain't going through this nonsense by myself.”

“Sorry,” I said. “Camden's been saved by a ratty bathrobe.”

“What in hell's a ‘soiree'? Angie said we were gonna have one. She's makin' it up, ain't she?”

“No, it's a twenty-dollar word that means an evening party.”

“Well, why didn't she just say so?” He rubbed his face, and his beard stuck out in all directions. “Maybe this ain't such a good idea.”

“Don't cry off now,” I said. “We'll never find your body.”

“I had in mind we'd invite some friends down to the Crow Bar, have a little ceremony, beer, pretzels, a little cake, maybe, and ride off to Dollywood for the weekend.”

“Oh, no. You have to understand that most women start dreaming about their wedding day in the womb and have extravagant plans for exactly how it's supposed to be.”

“We can't do extravagant. She has to know that. She said she's making her dress and the dresses for the bridesmaids. We got to cut corners wherever we can.”

“I'll be glad to take care of the music,” Camden said, “and I'm sure Kary will help, and Randall can walk you through it. Don't panic. It'll all work out.”

Rufus pointed a large tobacco-stained finger at him. “You remember that when it's your turn. Why ain't you asked Ellin, anyway?”

“There's this little problem of my voice.”

“Ha, ha. If she's so hot for you, she won't care if you use sign language.” He pointed to me. “And what about you?”

“I ask Kary every day. You've heard me. She keeps turning me down.”

“Yeah, well, she's a smart girl.” He smacked his hands on his knees and stood up. “Well, I guess there's no help for it now. The hay is in the barn.”

I looked to Camden for clarification. “It's a done deal,” he said.

Rufus left, still grumbling. “‘Soiree.' What's wrong with just sayin' ‘party' like normal people do?”

We watched him go. “Should we worry?” I asked.

“No, he'll be all right.”

I glanced at the clock. “Oh, look, we're in time for the Oracle. Want to see it?”

“Might as well.”

I turned on the TV in time to catch a commercial for Leaf Express. “At least they've got a new sponsor.”

“Do we have Dirk to thank for that?”

“I doubt it.”

The commercial ended and the camera unfortunately had to zero in on Sheila, who was looking even more insufferably pleased with herself than usual.

“Today, as promised, I have the Healing Wonder, the Delphic Secret Revealed!”

I sat back and put my feet up. “Gosh, I'm glad we didn't miss it.”

“Yes, viewers and listeners of all ages, your cares are over. I can See and Know All.”

“Thought that was your trick, Camden.”

Sheila spread out both hands and then brought them together as if ready to pray. “Your prayers have been answered. I have heeded your calls. Today, anyone can be healed of any physical or mental distress, thanks to this remarkable treasure!” She motioned to something under a cloth on the table in front of her, something unmistakably rectangular.

By now, we were leaning forward in disbelief.

Sheila flung the cloth aside. “And here it is!”

“Camden,” I said, “what are we looking at?”

He said it for both of us in his faint voice. “The Houdini box.”

***

We got dressed and rushed to the studio as Sheila was “healing” a member of the audience. Ellin had been standing by, looking bored, but when Camden and I burst in, she gave us a glare and motioned for quiet.

“Where's Dirk?” I asked.

“He's over there, but—”

Camden and I hurried to the other side of the audience where Dirk Kirk was trying to get someone to pick a card. Things started to make sense to me now. Lucas had told me when he went to check on the box on Thursday it wasn't in its hiding place behind the cinder block. What if whoever took it hid it behind the bar? Monday morning, after another failed audition, Dirk had stopped by the bar to help himself to a drink. He dropped some of his cards, as usual. When he stooped down to retrieve them, what if he saw the box and decided he was entitled to it?

Had the box been sitting under there since Thursday? Why didn't anyone look for it there? And who put it there in the first place?

“Dirk,” I said, “Where'd you get that box?”

He gulped and turned a very guilty shade of red.

“Did someone give it to you?”

“No, I took it.”

“You took it. You mean you stole it.”

“Those people at the Magic Club kept turning me down. Said I wasn't good enough. Well, I took the box without them noticing, didn't I? They're not so smart. And Mother said it'd be perfect. It has a ‘H' on it for ‘healing,' so I gave it to her.”

“You stole the box from the Magic Club. Was it behind the bar?”

“What does it matter? It's mine now.”

Ellin had followed us. “Randall, what is going on?”

“Mister Dim Bulb here stole that box from the Magic Club.”

She couldn't help a brief grin of triumph before she schooled her features into their usual business like expression. “I hope you can prove that. That's a serious accusation.”

“When's the next commercial break? I want a word with the Oracle.”

“There's one in about two minutes.”

As soon as the commercial was on, Dirk ran out to the set and grabbed the box. “It's mine.”

Sheila gaped at him. She'd probably never seen him move so fast. “What in the world is going on?”

“Give it here, you dope,” I said. “It doesn't belong to you.”

He gave me what I'm sure he thought was a sneer. “You must think I'm really stupid.”

“No, I think you're beyond stupid. You are stupid squared. Stupid in three-D. A steaming stupid hunk of moron pie.”

Dirk blinked. “Oh, yeah?”

Sheila was about to pop. “How dare you speak to Dirk that way!”

Reg waved frantically. “Clear the set! The commercial's almost over!”

Dirk and I got off the set. Sheila rearranged her features into something resembling affability. “Welcome back! It's time for some calls from our listeners, and then I have another special announcement.”

Dirk stood with the box under his arm, still glaring. “It's my box.”

Ellin faced me, hands on hips. “Randall, this had better be good.”