Tansy Taylor (14 page)

He finished writing and flipped his notebook closed. I let out a sigh of relief. Finally, I thought. I smiled and he smiled back and reached for his jacket. He pulled a business card out of his inside pocket and flipped it over.

“Now, here’s my card. I’m writing my cell on the back. You give me a call if you need anything, or you find yourself in trouble. Okay? I’m not convinced this wasn’t meant for you, and if it was, then somebody out there may be planning something else. Watch what you do. You remember the buddy system?” I nodded. “It’s a good idea to have a buddy whenever you’re out, especially at night.”

He stood, reached down for my hand and helped me to my feet.

“Thanks,” I said. I was grateful that at least I’d the good fortune to get a decent detective. One who seemed genuinely concerned for my well-being.

“No problem. Just doing my job.” He winked. “Now, do you need a ride anywhere? Does your insurance cover a rental?”

I shook my head. “Liability only. That car was so old that I didn’t carry anything but the required insurance. I didn’t ever imagine needing a rental, you know?”

Detective Smith nodded. “Do you need a lift home then?” I glanced around the area and down at my watch, it was about a quarter to four.

“Nah, I think I’ll go say hello my friend at the dealership, let him know I’m okay.” I gestured toward the service area across the street.

“Oh, the guy over here earlier? You two an item?” I wasn’t sure, but I sensed a hint of disappointment in his voice. Was the detective hoping for more?

“Well, I suppose, maybe. We’ve been out a couple of times, but nothing serious. I have other things in my life I need to focus on right now.” I flashed him a grin.

“Oh, like finding a new car and a job?” He smiled.

“I think those two things are pretty high on my priority list.” Along with finding Buster’s murderer and his body, missing files, and figuring out what the Russian mob had to do with a slimy used car salesman.

“Well, take care then. Remember, you can give me a call anytime.” He winked and this time I was sure he was hinting at the fact that I could call him anytime, regardless of whether it had to do with police business or not.

I smiled back. He was awfully nice, just not my type. “See ya then.” I turned and walked across the street. I could feel his eyes follow me until I rounded the corner of the service shop.

I headed in through the open bay door and stopped where Big and the Russian had been standing when I overheard them. Something hot pink on the floor caught my eye and I bent down to pick it up. It was a matchbook with the name of a local strip club, Mr. Peep’s, on the cover. The Russian had lit a cigar when he had been here, maybe these were his. I flipped the cover up, and saw that there was something written in Russian. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t know Russian; if it had been in Spanish, I might have stood a chance, but the Cyrillic alphabet was completely alien. I stuck the matchbook in my jeans pocket.

“Hey there!” I heard Sam’s disembodied voice calling out from under a car. “Hold on and I’ll be out in a second!” There was a hydraulic sound and the car lifted up slowly and Sam emerged from below. He wiped his hands off on his coveralls which were covered with grease and oil.

“You sure look like Big is getting his money’s worth today!” I took in how filthy he’d become in the last hour.

He grinned and flipped his cap back around the right way. “I suppose so. This is just a simple oil change though, nothing too complex. You get everything worked out with your car?”

“I guess. They took my statement, which wasn’t much. I basically said I had no idea. In reality, I figure it’s either someone from the dealership or someone from the mob who thinks I’m poking my nose into their business. . I haven’t noticed anyone, but who’s to say that someone with better sleuthing skills that I have hasn’t been watching us. I suppose someone has, or I would still have a car.” I scrunched up my forehead in thought.

Sam nodded and picked up a giant Big Gulp and took a long slurp. “I suppose you’re right. I haven’t heard anything, but I’ll definitely start keeping a better watch. Did you still want to go out tonight? Or are you thinking you’d rather stay in?” He continued to sip off of his drink. I looked around and noticed that we were the only two in the shop today, there was no sign of Jimbo or any other workers.

“I want to go home and take a nice hot shower, but after that I want to get out. I feel too wound up to stay in tonight. I need to help Callie this afternoon; she was coming over here after work to pick up a box of Buster’s stuff.”

“Well, I definitely need to take a shower as well.” He gestured to his grime covered overalls. “You want me to pick you up at your place tonight then? Or meet me somewhere?”

I mulled this over in my head. I wasn’t sure I was ready to have Sam anywhere near my house; after all, I’d just met him. I like to try and play it safe; I’d had friends who had gotten into trouble letting a seemingly nice guy come over too early in the relationship. Also, it might be too tempting to invite him in and then never go back out.

“I’m not sure what Callie has planned yet. You want to meet somewhere downtown say around, eight?” I decided to play it safe.

“Sounds good, you like Indian food? I know this great place.” Sam picked up his soda, knocked the ice around, and then slurped on it to get the last little drops of soda. Normally this would completely grate on my nerves, in fact I’d smacked my little brother plenty of times for doing this same thing, but he was just so darn cute.

“Are you talking about Marrakesh? I love that place! They have the best food, and the coolest belly dancers.” I did a little hip swish and clinked my imaginary finger cymbals.

“That’s exactly where I was thinking. So, you and your hips are in?” He grinned winked at me and then looked at his watch. His face turned a bit pensive and he glanced around. I followed suit and saw that Jimbo had wandered back into the office.

“Sorry! I should let you get back to work. I’d hate for you to get in trouble, and yes, I am totally in for Marrakesh tonight.” I touched the only clean place on his coverall sleeve that I could find.

“Great! And, don’t worry, it’s not so much me getting in trouble as me getting all of the work done that needs to be done before the end of the day. They haven’t hired anyone to replace Buster so it’s up to me and Jimbo; which means mostly me.” Sam glanced around and I followed his gaze to the office where Jimbo had plopped down with his feet on the desk and was stuffing his face with a powdered sugar doughnut.

“I see what you mean!” I wrinkled my nose, what a slob.

Sam leaned in and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.”

I smiled and turned and walked back to the sunny day, my feet barely touching the ground.

“Looks like you’re on cloud nine.” Buster said, appearing at my side.

I nodded. “Um-hmm. I think I finally may have found a good guy.”

Buster looked at me sideways. “Has that been an issue in the past?”

“Definitely.” I thought back over the last few years of boyfriends and they weren’t the classiest bunch.

“I’d stick around and chat, but well, it’d look a bit odd.”

“I know.” He sighed and then disappeared.

I passed by where my car had been. All that was left was a charred spot in the road, a few scattered pieces of glass, half of my favorite Beastie Boys CD and a familiar pink matchbook. I picked it up and sure enough, it was from Mr. Peeps. This could not be a coincidence.

Callie was just finishing up her shift and Detective Smith was there waiting in a booth. He motioned me over. Great, I thought, just what I am not in the mood for; more conversation with a detective when my life is filled with lies.

“Hey there detective,” I said, slipping into the booth. I caught Callie’s eye and made a request for a diet Coke.

“Hello Ms. Taylor. You look like you’re feeling a bit better than earlier, although still a bit singed.” He grinned and the corners of his eyes crinkled. Cute.

I chuckled and then looked down at myself. I did have some sooty marks on my jeans and shirt. “I know. Callie said she’d give me a ride home; I had plans to help her out with an errand after work anyway.”

“Ah,” was all he said. He took a contemplative sip of coffee and then bit off a chunk of his chocolate chip cookie.

“Good cookie?” I asked with some envy. It sure looked good, slightly warm and gooey and about the size of a small plate.

“Mm-hmm, really good.” He took another bite.

“Hey Tansy, here’s your diet, and a cookie.” Callie slid a plate in front of me.

“Oh, you read my mind! You’re the best.” I picked up the cookie and took a big bite. I felt some chocolate escape from a punctured chocolate chip.

“You’ve got a little on your chin there.” Detective Smith picked up a napkin, folded it neatly and dunked it lightly in his water. He leaned over the table, making sure to hold his tie back, and gently wiped the chocolate from my face with a little dab. It left me feeling like a little kid, but slightly warm inside like the cookie.

“There, all better.” He leaned back into his seat and smiled, and then took a sip of coffee. “Good cookie, huh?”

“Yes, thanks for the um, help. It’s pretty gooey.” I licked the crumbs from my fingers and then picked up my own napkin to make sure that my face was also crumb free. “Messy, but really tasty.” I took a drink of my soda.

The table was the center of an awkward silence. I didn’t want to open my mouth for fear that I might say something I shouldn’t, which left me with nothing to do but sit and eat my cookie and feel out of sorts. I took a minute to focus in on Detective Smith’s aura. It was pleasantly comforting, finding him all the right colors that indicated his sensible ways and protective duties. I could tell he was a logical man who took life, and most certainly his job, seriously.

“Did I miss a big glob of cookie on my face?” He was looking quizzically at me.

I grinned. “Sorry, no, I was reading your aura.”

“My aura? You don’t go in for all that psychic mumbo jumbo do you? That’s such a load of bunk. My mom insisted for years that her psychic was for real and crucial to her having a happy life. All I saw was a mother who went broke using a crutch for living.”

“Whoa. Actually, I do go in for all that ‘bunk’ as you call it. I happen to be a psychic.” I didn’t add the fact that until a few hours ago I was among those evil psychic sharks that sucked money out of poor unsuspecting folks like his mom.

Detective Smith snorted. “Seriously? You don’t look like a psychic.” He regarded me again, as if looking at me for the first time. “I mean, don’t psychics usually wear long flowing skirts and bangles and drag around a crystal ball or tarot cards? You look pretty normal to me.”

“Well, while I do on occasion, mostly for parties, don the stereotypical garb and trot around with my fake crystal ball, what you see is what you get. I’m just a normal gal who happens to be able to read auras and help people obtain a bit of information about their future,” and talk to the dead, I added to myself.

Detective Smith was still eyeballing me suspiciously. He whipped out his notebook and jotted something down.

“What’re you doing?” I leaned over the table and he held the notepad out of my line f sight.

“Oh, just adding a bit to my notes about you. May be delusional, thinks self to be psychic.”

“Pa-ha! Whatever Detective; you think what you like, I’ll continue to go on knowing the truth.” I shook my cookie at him. Man, he got my hackles up, but I was determined not to cave in; I’d acted up enough as it was. Callie had better hurry up and get over here or I was liable to say something I’d regret. I took a huge bite of cookie. I would just keep my mouth full until she did.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Smith was looking all apologetic, his brown puppy dog eyes asking for forgiveness.

“Woo dedn’t.” I said through my mouthful of cookie. I refused to let him know he’d hit a nerve. Obviously he was jaded and just couldn’t appreciate that there could be things in life beyond what he could see. I bet he didn’t believe in ghosts either. I slurped off of my Coke, the sweet liquid mixing with leftover cookie crumbs.

“Okay, all done.” Callie plopped down in the seat next to me and kicked off her little white Keds. “Man, the dogs are barking today. Must have something to do with running down the road in these shoes to make sure my new friend was okay.”

“Probably not the best for running, no, but I really appreciate the effort.” I gave her a one armed side hug and that seemed to make her perk up.

“So, Detective Smith, what questions do you have for me?” Callie crossed her slim legs and looked directly across the table in a no nonsensical way. I could tell that she was ready to get this over with. I just hoped that she didn’t over-share.

Smith flipped his notepad open and clicked his pen to life. “Okay, this shouldn’t take long. First, you and the victim, Tansy Taylor, are friends, correct?”

“Yes, we are.” I let my breath out, relieved that she appeared to be going for short, succinct answers.

“You said you heard that someone fitting the victim’s description was experiencing a car fire and ran over to the scene, is that correct?” He looked at her intently, pen poised above the pad.