Trouble in the Tarot (19 page)

I patted his T-shirt-clad chest, giving him a little smile of my own. “Silly man. Dessert comes after dinner. This is just fireworks.” Even though it was warm out, he still wore jeans. Other than when he worked out, he rarely wore shorts. Not that I was complaining. He filled out his jeans oh-so-nicely.

“That’s what I thought.” He sighed, looking frustrated and hungry and adorable all at once. But then his expression changed to one of his usual suspicion. “Your car is parked in the other direction. Mind telling me why you’re coming from this side of the park? There’s nothing back there but Quincy Turner’s office, and I know you wouldn’t be talking to him since he’s a suspect in Bernadette Baldwin’s murder. Would you?”

“Of course not,” I scoffed, but looked up at the sky. “Nice night for fireworks, huh?”

He hesitated and then finally said, “I’ll let your changing the subject slide since you’ve had a hell of a day.”

I slowly lowered my gaze to his. “Thanks. I appreciate that. See, you
do
know how to treat a woman. You’re just a bit rusty, is all.” I tweaked his arm, and he grabbed my hand and intertwined his fingers with mine.

“Oh, I know how to treat a woman.” His intensely magnetic eyes held me captive. “I’ve simply chosen not to date, until now.”

“What changed your mind?”

“You.” He caressed my cheek softly with his other hand.

“Oh.” Warmth filled my every cell. Man, he was good.

“I heard about the fire. Is everyone okay?”

“Everyone’s fine, thanks to Chief Drummond. I stopped by the fire department to thank her. By the way, did you happen to know she’s left-handed?”

“No.” He shrugged. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“She warned Granny and Fiona to leave Captain Walker alone.” I waited for his reaction, anticipating him to be surprised and congratulate me on an awesome discovery.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” he said nonchalantly, not surprised in the least. I never had to worry about my ego getting inflated around him. “She worries about him,” he added.

“Exactly.” I poked him in the chest. “The threatening note that someone gave to Bernadette warned her to stay away from Captain Walker or else. And the note was written by someone left-handed. I think it was Chief Drummond. I think she cares about the captain.” Whoops, I hadn’t meant to mention the note. I bit my lip when he paused, and then he finally spoke.

“I don’t even want to know how you saw that note, and of course she cares about him, but not in the way you think.” Mitch poked me back playfully.

“What do you mean?” My shoulders drooped with dread over what he might say.

“Captain Walker and Chief Drummond are cousins. Their fathers are brothers, and they both followed in their footsteps. They’ve always had a close bond because of it.”

“Darnit.” My shoulders slumped farther. “Every time I think I’m close to clearing Granny’s name, something happens to blow my theory right out of the water.”

Mitch lifted my chin with his fingertip. “You’re not supposed to have theories, Tink.”

“I can’t help it. I’m not getting in your way, I promise. I’m just trying to add to the investigation. I can’t sit back and do nothing. I just can’t.” I blinked back tears.

He cursed under his breath and stared up at the sky with a strained expression as though at war with himself. Finally, he lowered his gaze like he’d made a decision. “All right. You win.”

“Excuse me?” Hope filled me. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?

“I’ll tell you everything I know, but you first. What else is buzzing around in that pretty little head of yours?”

“Not much,” I said, and immediately regretted it.

He smirked, and I smacked him.

“I walked right into that one. I meant not much regarding the case. You were right. I did go see Quincy and overheard him on the phone.” I told Mitch everything I’d found so far.

“I think you’re right. Quincy had something on Bernadette and then blackmailed her. But blackmail doesn’t necessarily mean murder.”

“I agree it wouldn’t make sense for Quincy to kill Bernadette after she paid him off. Maybe the crazy people she went to get help from killed her,” I added desperately. “Maybe even one of her staff did. She
was broke. That must have been why Bernadette fired her staff the morning of her murder.”

“Not bad,” he said, and I swelled with pride. “It would make sense that she couldn’t afford to keep them after giving away all her money. Although, I didn’t realize she had money to give away.” He pulled out his notebook and jotted down some notes.

“Told you we make a good team. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

“I’m the stubborn one?” He arched both brows until they disappeared beneath his hair as he stared at me. “You’re funny.”

“Don’t forget I’m cute, too.” I laughed.

“Sunny, I doubt I could forget anything about you if I tried.” He shook his head on a grin and then looked at his notes, all business once more.

“Anything else?” I asked, hoping he’d stay true to his word and share back.

“We still don’t know who wrote the threatening note regarding the captain. Quincy obviously wrote the serial killer–style note as you put it. I’m following some leads regarding Ozzie Zuckerman. I got a tip from an anonymous informant, and some ideas from, well, somewhere else. Let’s just call it a hunch from an unexpected source.” I opened up my mouth, but Mitch held up his hand. “Before you pounce on me, I need to figure a few more things out, and then we’ll talk. Deal?”

“Deal.” I threw my arms around him and pounced anyway, hugging him tight as I stood on his feet to reach him better.

He hugged me back, and I felt the chuckle deep within his chest. Biting my lip, I tried not to grin from ear to ear like a love-struck buffoon.

“In the meantime, let’s try to enjoy ourselves,” his deep voice rumbled beneath my ear. “We
are
supposed to be on a date, after all.”

“That we are. And you are such a dashing fellow.” I lifted my head and kissed him on the lips, then turned around, wiggling against him until he wrapped his arms around me. I peeked up at him. “Just so you know that kiss wasn’t dessert, it was just a crumb.”

He chuckled again, staring down at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “You’re a nut.”

“Oh, just admit it.” I faced front once more, afraid to see his expression as I finished with, “You’re nuts about me.”

He rested his chin on the top of my head, not saying a word, but holding me a bit tighter. I melted in relief. Guilty by omission. At this point I’d take whatever I could get. I let out a dreamy sigh and leaned back to enjoy the show.

13

The next afternoon Granny Gert pulled three twenty-dollar bills out of a freezer bag of money and handed it to Raoulle, the hair stylist. “Thank you so much.”

He took them a bit too quickly in my opinion and gave her a naughty smile, which he had to know would only encourage her further. Damn, he was good.

“I’m thrilled Tracy let you make a house call just to wash and set my hair. I miss the salon, but if I set off this darn ankle bracelet again, a certain someone will get so angry.” Granny jerked her head in my direction, and my jaw fell open. “She’s so touchy these days,” she said in a loud whisper even though I was standing right beside her. “Must be hormonal if you get my drift.”

I gasped, feeling my cheeks heat as I glanced at a smirking Raoulle. “Granny Gert!”

“Well, it’s true,” she said loud and clear and then looked at Raoulle with pure mischief shining bright in her snappy brown eyes. “I have a great cookie for that, you know.”

“Granny, I’m sure Raoulle needs to go.”

“Not really,” he said, grinning devilishly.

“My hair looks better than Mt. Saint Blue over there.” Fiona patted her hair as she checked her image from every angle in the foyer mirror. Then she wrote a check for seventy dollars, making sure Granny saw, and handed it to Raoulle with a flourish.

“My hair is not blue, you ninny. It’s a beautiful
natural
white, not some phony bologna color like yours. You’re just jealous that mine is still thick and lustrous while yours is thinning.” Granny snatched her freezer bag once more and pulled out another ten and a five, fluttering her eyelashes at Raoulle.

At least she’d taken the falsies off, but still. She was going to go cross-eyed if she didn’t stop that. But I had to admit, I was thrilled the subject was off me. “The way you set and roll my hair is worth every penny,” she twittered.

Fiona harrumphed, grabbing her purse and fishing out a twenty. “My hair is not thinning, Gertie. It’s tame and has a style, something you lack.” She smoothed it back with her perfectly manicured hands. “You’re the one who’s jealous. My strawberry blond color is gorgeous, and the way Raoulle applies it is extraordinary. The man has skills,” she purred, winking at him in an exaggerated way.

“Stop, please. You two lovelies are gonna make me blush.” Raoulle waved his hand through the air with a technique more dramatic than both of them put together. “You know I’d do anything for you guys.”

Good Lord in Heaven, did he flutter his eyelashes back?

I thought about what he’d said. He’d do anything for them, all right. Like take their money. At the rate they were going in trying to outdo each other, they’d be broke before he hit the sidewalk.

“I think you’ve done enough for one day.” I gave him a meaningful look that didn’t involve winking or fluttering eyelashes. It said,
Not on my watch, pal
.

He sighed, his grin fading and eyes growing serious. “Oh, all right.” Then he leaned toward Granny and said in his own loud whisper, “Definitely hormonal.” Then he sailed out the door before I could say another word.

“Now that we’ve taken care of that, I have work to do,” I said, heading toward my sanctuary in desperate need of respite. Some normalcy. My life back.

“Actually, you don’t, dear,” Granny said, sounding sorrowful.

I stopped and slowly turned around to face them. “What do you mean?”

“Your afternoon appointment cancelled,” Granny said, and I was ready to hand her the shovel and wave the white flag. I surrender. Just bury me in the yard, six feet under, because I would never survive waiting for this case to be solved.

“It’s no wonder they cancelled. They probably didn’t want
to be under the same roof with a criminal,” Fiona chimed in, jerking her head in Granny’s direction. “If you know what
I
mean.”

“You should talk,” Granny sputtered, looking completely aghast. “You’re the one who keeps screwing up and getting us into more trouble.”

“Stop!” I glared at them both. “I can’t take any more of the Granny and Fiona Show. It’s nothing but reruns, and I’ve had enough. I thought you two had a truce. Aren’t you supposed to be trying to figure out who killed Bernadette?”

“Yes, but Fiona Schmona is no Sherlock Holmes. She has no idea what she’s doing.” Granny wiped her hands on her apron. “She honestly thinks my car is haunted. Can you believe that? That’s all I’m saying about that.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Fiona plopped her hands on her cotton Bermuda shorts. “It can happen. This house is certainly haunted, and that cat of yours is just plain scary. He’s not very friendly.”

The shutters shook and a strong wind blew through the open windows, blowing my curtains around.

“See what I mean?” Fiona shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. “If I have to stay here all summer, I’ll never survive.” She rubbed her chest and winced.

“This house has charm, and quit acting like you have chest pains. The only pain around here is you,” Granny snapped.

Fiona stopped abruptly and dropped her hand, standing up straighter. “Like your theory is any better.”

“Bernadette wasn’t that old, and she wasn’t married.
She could have had a lover. Maybe she broke it off with him, and so he killed her. It makes a lot more sense than a haunted car,” Granny scoffed.

“I can’t imagine Bernadette being nice to anyone long enough to have a lover, but I do think she had a secret,” I said.

“You do?” they both chimed in at the same time, sounding stunned.

I filled them in on all that Mitch and I had discovered so far. “So, yes, maybe Quincy killed Bernadette in a bitter rage over not getting the auction money, even though she paid him something. According to him, it wasn’t nearly enough.”

“Or whoever she got the money from killed her for not paying them back. Or maybe whoever was on the phone killed her out of revenge for being a fraud. I can’t blame her. I certainly took Phillip for all he was worth for being a fraud. He promised until death do us part, but he left me. Trust me, I felt like killing him,” Fiona said, then she paused dramatically before she added with gusto, “I heard Quincy flashed plenty of big bills in town this morning. I think he has more than he let on.”

“How did you hear that?” Granny eyed her suspiciously. “You haven’t gone anywhere, have you?”

“Obviously Raoulle talks more to me than you.” Fiona gloated.

I still stood there in shock. Quincy had blackmailed Bernadette, taken all of her money, complained that it wasn’t enough, but was flashing big bills around. Was he blackmailing someone else now? Like maybe the
anonymous person on the other end of the phone? Quincy didn’t have an alibi for the night Bernadette died. His actions now only made him look more guilty. And I still didn’t know how Ozzie had put a stop to Bernadette’s petition.