Trouble in the Tarot (18 page)

“Well, I’ve seen you do enough readings to know you use candles and incense and oils and all sorts of stuff,” Granny explained, wringing her hands as though she dreaded telling me. She finally took a breath and blurted, “Fiona went overboard as usual, and the next thing we knew, the tablecloth was on fire.”

“Don’t you worry, Sunny.” Fiona nodded, looking proud as a dirty heroic peacock. “We put it out straight away.”

“She didn’t put it out. The nitwit threw flour on it.” Granny waved her wooden spoon about. “I tried to tell her flour is how you put out a grease fire. I saved the day, not her. I threw water over her flour, and well, everything was a charcoal doughy mess by the time all was said and done.”

“Uh-huh.” I shook my head, my entire skull throbbing now. “I’m with Morty. I need to escape.”

“Just don’t bother the captain,” an older female firefighter said as she entered the kitchen, obviously hearing what I’d said. “He’s had enough to deal with lately, especially regarding these two.” She stood tall and firm as she gave me a no-nonsense, serious look and then exited my house promptly.

A thought hit me square in the gut. A warning to stay away from the captain. Gee, where had I heard that before?

12

Thursday afternoon I pulled into the fire department parking lot. I wanted to talk more with the firefighter who’d come to my house. Find out what her story was. Why, exactly, she wanted me not to bother the captain.

And whether or not she was left-handed.

The firehouse was like a big warehouse. Living quarters upstairs, with lockers and offices and trucks all downstairs. A large kitchen sat off to the side, and people scurried about, readying the trucks for the parade. Various aromas of coffee, eggs, oil, and gas wafted through the air.

“Can I help you, miss?” the big, hunky firefighter who’d rescued Fiona from the tree asked as his boots hit the floor.

He’d just slid down the pole in true heroic fashion.
Here stood a real hero, not space-cadet wannabe heroes like the Dynamic Duo. He had a dark brown flat-top buzz cut, chiseled cheekbones, and the sexiest set of lips I’d ever seen. Not to mention his muscles filled out his uniform perfectly.

I could see why women swooned in the presence of firefighters. There was something so dashing about a man in a uniform of any kind. I took a moment simply to admire him, trying to think of someone to set him up with.

I couldn’t get matchmaking off my mind these days, since my dating life was on hold for the time being. My gaze reached his face. His lips twitched in an obvious effort not to smile, but he just stood at attention, waiting patiently.

Feeling the flush hit my cheeks, I held out my hand. “I’m Sunny Meadows. And you are?”

His large palm wrapped warmly around mine as he leaned in and said, “Single.”

I let out a goofy laugh and then pressed my lips together as I reluctantly pulled my hand from his. Smoking hot or not, there was only one man I wanted to put my fire out. “I, um, was actually looking for”—the woman who’d come to my house walked out of a room in the back—“her,” I finished, shooting him a parting smile as I headed toward her.

She spotted me and stopped walking, setting her mouth in a hard, uncompromising line. “You again,” was all she said.

“Yup, it’s me. But unlike my house, I’m not on fire,
and I promise not to set off any alarms. Girl Scout’s honor, I swear.” I held up two fingers and laughed.

She didn’t.

“Okay, then.” I cleared my throat. “Anyway, I just wanted to come by and thank you.”

“For what? Doing my job?” She studied me, sizing me up, like she didn’t quite know what to make of me.

“Well, yes, actually.” I tried for another smile and a tone that would let her know I was sincere. My house Vicky meant everything to me, and if I’d lost her, I would have been devastated. Not to mention the terrifying thought of what could have happened to Morty, Granny, and Fiona if they hadn’t put the fire out. “My granny and Fiona might be old, but my house is older. Not a good combination I’m afraid.”

“Those two are something, all right,” the woman grumbled, straightening her crisp uniform, her gray hair cropped short and not moving an inch.

“I know, right?” I held up my hands helplessly. “When they’re not making trouble for the police, they’re making trouble for everyone else.”

She narrowed her eyes and snapped her rigid spine even straighter, which I hadn’t thought possible. “That’s why I handled the call. The police are trying to solve a murder. They don’t need anything more to deal with right now, especially not the nonsense of two bored, bickering, insane old ladies.”

The police or Captain Walker I wondered. “And that’s why I am indebted to you,” I said, which was true but wouldn’t stop me from following all leads, including
the one I had on her. “Can I have your autograph?” I held out one of the carnival flyers I’d found by the door and a pen.

She looked at me a bit strangely and then shrugged on an irritated sigh. “Apparently, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” she muttered, taking the pen from my hand. She flipped the flyer over and held it up to the wall as she signed it with her…holy Mary, mother of God…left hand.

“Chief, the captain’s waiting in your office,” another firefighter, almost as hunky as the last, said as he walked by. Yowzer, they must all drink from the same God-gifted water fountain, I thought.

She handed the flyer back to me. “If that will be all, I have a parade to get ready for.” She snapped a salute in my direction and marched off toward her office, which read CHIEF LINDA DRUMMOND.

She was left-handed, Captain Walker was in her office, and I had just found a new suspect. All in all, not a bad morning.

*    *    *

Not long after I left the fire department, I pulled into the parking lot of Mini Central Park. The day had already grown hotter with an early heat wave. I fanned my face, left the windows down in my bug, and then climbed out.

The Summer Solstice Carnival had long since shut down, but the fireworks display was set to go off over
the swan pond at dusk. The parade hadn’t started yet. It was supposed to happen right after lunch at one.

It was only noon.

Hopefully, I would catch Quincy Turner in his office. I really wanted to ask him about his Parks and Rec charity getting passed over for the carnival proceeds, and Bernadette’s petition.

The park was pretty much empty, except for a few die-hard people who had already set their blankets and chairs and coolers up on the lawn as close to the swan pond as they were allowed. I spotted my parents talking to Harry.

I stayed far away from their spot and kept walking. Hazel sat on a blanket, waiting impatiently, judging by her fidgeting and dirty looks. Smiling, I waved, but she just looked away, so I kept walking. I needed to finish what I’d come to accomplish before Mitch arrived.

I walked by Chuck, Abby, and third-wheel Mimi. She stuck pretty close to Abby’s side, especially when she was in town. Ida Ray stopped and spoke to her for a few minutes, which was a good sign, but then she kept walking and joined another group on their blanket. Mimi gave them a sad wistful look, but then her phone rang and she walked away to answer it.

If Mimi would just learn to loosen up, she might find someone special so she wouldn’t be alone. Since I had to wait to start dating, I was still in the matchmaking mood and thought,
I really need to find her a man
. But that would have to wait as well. I was on a mission.

I waved to them as well and kept walking.

Quincy’s office was located just off the swan pond. I walked into the building that housed a front desk with all sorts of brochures on the area and things to do. Divinity’s very own welcome center tourist spot. Quincy’s office was in the back with the door slightly ajar. No one was in the main office.

Instead of ringing the bell, I started walking toward the back and saw him through the crack in his door. I noticed he was on the phone and heard his raised voice. Knowing it wasn’t any of my business, I stopped and started to turn around, until I heard what he said.

“I don’t know what else to say. I’ve told you over and over that I’m sorry, but what’s fair is fair. Bernadette never should have done what she did. She’s a fraud. I deserved every penny she paid me for not telling the whole town, but it’s still not nearly enough.”

My jaw dropped. Quincy Turner was the blackmailer? Then who on earth had written the threatening notes to stay away from Captain Walker? The handwriting had definitely been female. Something told me that note wasn’t related to this at all.

Quincy sounded downright frustrated and bitter as he continued. “Bernadette started the petition, but Ozzie put a stop to that in a hurry. I tried to stop him, but he runs in scary circles.”

He paused and listened while the person on the other end of the line said something.

“It’s not my fault she turned to them. Anyone in their
right mind knows that’s crazy. I have to think about myself. Times are tough. My business is still struggling. That auction money should have been mine. I have what I want. I suggest you find another way to get what you want and leave me alone or I will follow through and let everyone know what a fake Bernadette really was.” He slammed down the receiver and rubbed his temples.

I took a moment to digest what I’d just heard. Quincy must have found something out about Bernadette that would damage her reputation somehow. I suspected it wasn’t something personal since she didn’t care what people thought of her. The only thing she cared about was her business. He must have threatened to expose Bernadette, for what I still didn’t know, and that’s when she started the petition to get the charity recipient changed back to them. When that didn’t work, he’d made her come up with the money somehow.

What I didn’t understand was where Bernadette had gotten the money, and who had she turned to that was crazy, and most important, who had Quincy been talking to just now? Even more strange, how had Ozzie put a stop to the petition? Murder?

So many questions…

Once I’d waited a few minutes to give Quincy a chance to compose himself, I knocked on his door. Pushing it open wider, I was surprised at the mess. Papers were scattered about and clutter reigned. No wonder his business was in trouble. There was no organization whatsoever.

“Look, I said—” Quincy spotted me and rubbed his wrinkled brow. “Can I help you?”

What I knew of him, he had seemed like a nice enough guy. But with the cuts to his funding from the state, I knew he was desperate to keep his organization alive. And desperation made people capable of anything, even blackmail.

“My name is Sunny Meadows.” I held out my hand.

“Oh.” He eyed me like I had the plague. “You.”

“I’m not here to cause any trouble, I promise.”

He grunted. “Neither am I. Funny how no one believes me, either.” He looked up at me with a defeated expression.

“I’m really sorry that your charity didn’t get chosen to receive the auction and bakeoff funds, but Animal Angels is a worthy cause as well.”

His expression turned hard and angry. “Says you.”

“Says everyone.”

“Have you met the guy who’s running the operation?” he asked.

“Well, not in person, but I’ve met his assistant. She seems nice.”

“Ah, but you’ve never met Ozzie Zuckerman himself. If you did, I’m sure you’d have a change of heart.”

“How do you mean?”

“There’s something off about that man. Let’s just say he has friends in low places,” Quincy grumbled. “Am I bitter? Hell yes. I admit it. But that’s not why I’m saying this. That man is about as warm as a rock. Not adopting those rescued dogs to folks in town and
hanging out with shady riffraff. Mark my words, that man is not what he claims to be.”

“Well, then, who exactly is he?”

His eyes met mine and held. “Finally, someone is asking the right questions.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Turner. I hope things turn around for you.” Whoops, I hadn’t meant to add that last part. The last thing I needed was for him to find out I had overheard his conversation. Until I figured out what he had on her, I didn’t know if he was dangerous.

His eyes widened with horror.

“You know, with the charity and everything. Oh, shoot, look at the time. The fireworks are about to start.” I backed out of his office. “Happy Fourth of July.”

I ran outside before I’d completely spilled the beans that I’d been spying on him. Making my way through the crowd of people, I ran smack into Mitch. He grabbed my bare shoulders to steady me.

“There you are,” I said, nearly out of breath.

“Here I am.” His gaze ran over the length of me. “Where are you coming from in such a hurry?”

“Trying to find you. I didn’t want to be late for our date.”

“Ah, our date. You’ve been so mad at me lately, I didn’t think you would show.”

“Mad, yes. Unreasonable, no. I’m not about to miss an opportunity to finally go on a real date with you.” I softened a little. Not to mention I’d say just about anything at this point to take his mind off where I’d just been.

His full lips twitched. “Is there dessert involved?”