Trouble in the Tarot (22 page)

Mitch pulled out his notebook and flipped through it for a minute, then studied me. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Bernadette had to get the money from somewhere to pay off Quincy.”

“Exactly, but we can’t prove anything with Quincy yet. And
I have nothing specific on Ozzie yet, but I’m positive there’s more to both their stories.”

“I think so, too. I just hope those thugs stay away. I heard them say they would take care of me later. Maybe I should buy a gun.”

Mitch arched a thick black brow in a way he knew annoyed me. “Not a good idea, especially with your present company. Just be smart, lock your doors, carry your pepper spray, and for God’s sake, stop putting yourself in dangerous situations.” He touched my cheek until I looked at him. “I have enough to worry about, Tink.”

I relented a little and covered his hand with mine. Just when he made me angry, he did or said something really sweet. I sighed. “You’re getting better.”

“With what?”

“Your words.”

He laughed. “Come on. We have a badminton game to win.”

I smiled. “You’re on.”

15

Saturday night Mitch actually accompanied me to bingo. I promised Granny I would play in her spot since she couldn’t go. I couldn’t believe Mitch actually agreed to go with me. He really was trying to make us work, even in the difficult situation we found ourselves in.

I worried about Granny. We weren’t getting any closer to solving Bernadette’s murder and clearing her name, yet she was living in la-la land. So blasé about the fact that she might go to prison. Then again, Granny was the ultimate optimist. Not
dealing
could just be her way of actually dealing with the whole situation.

“Hey, Captain. How’s the table tonight?” Mitch asked as we sat at Captain Walker’s table. It was hot and stuffy in the community center, with numbers being called out and murmurs echoing throughout the room.

“Hopefully your luck is better than mine,” Captain Walker replied, rubbing his bald head, then scratching his goatee.

“Granny always wins. I’m hoping some of her luck will rub off on me,” I chimed in.

“How is your grandmother?” the captain asked me, the sincerity and worry evident in his eyes.

“You know Granny. Always chipper no matter how dire the situation.” I tried for some of her optimism, knowing it’s what she would want me to do. I worried enough for the both of us.

“And Ms. Atwater?” he asked, looking equally concerned and worried about her as well.

“When she’s not sparring with Granny, she’s stirring up some kind of trouble. The two of them together are one big handful. Basically, I have no life.”

“You can say that again,” Mitch grumbled.

I gave him a sympathetic look and an apologetic shrug.

“Say what again?” Harry asked as he escorted Hazel around to the other side of our table. “Mind if we sit?”

“Not at all,” Captain Walker said.

Hazel smiled coyly at him, shaking her brown curls a bit and pushing her glasses up her nose. He blinked, gave her a distracted smile, and then looked back at his card and checked his nearly empty board.

Harry grinned at me, flashing a nice set of teeth in his still-handsome face. “Nice to see you again, Miss Meadows. I couldn’t help but overhear the detective. How are things going for your grandmother
and Ms. Atwater? I haven’t seen much of your parents out at the inn to inquire about them.”

“Why don’t you come by and see them yourself?” I said, praying he’d take me up on it. “I’m sure they’d love the company. They get so bored, and boredom equals mischief with them.”

Harry hesitated, looking as though he was actually considering it, but then said, “Maybe soon.” He shot a look at Hazel and the captain. “I’ve been busy with other matters these days.”

Interesting
. “Well, the next time you have a minute, swing by and I’ll introduce you. This whole unfortunate ordeal is not easy on any of us, but thank you once again for your help in getting them released into my custody.”

“Glad to be of assistance.” He sounded sincere. “Let me know if you need anything else. Judge Navarra and I have gotten to know each other quite well since I’ve been in town.”

“Believe me, you’ll be the first person I contact if it comes to that. Hopefully, we’ll clear their names and find the real killer soon.”

“That’s always been my motto.” He was such a nice guy, but a strange look crossed his face right before he added, “Justice must be served.”

Hazel ignored Harry for the next hour, flirting nonstop with Captain Walker. The funny thing was that Harry didn’t seem to mind. Maybe it was because anyone with eyes could see the captain wasn’t interested in her.

“Bingo!” Hazel yelled in delight, clapping her hands.

“Good for you,” I said.

“Congratulations,” Mitch added.

“Do you have a pen?” she asked me. “I am going to frame this card. I never win anything.” I handed her a pen, and she wrote the date down and then signed the card with a flourish. She ran up front to claim her prize, Harry trailing at a distance behind her.

Captain Walker slapped his card down on the table. “I give up.” He saluted us both and then left the building.

I turned to Mitch. “Did you see what I saw?”

“Her signature?”

“Yup. Looks familiar, doesn’t it?” I stated.

“Actually, yes.” He studied me. “Did you notice anything else?”

“Hazel Kissinger is left-handed.”

“Bingo,” he said, and then added, “You’re getting pretty good, Tink.”

“I’ve always been good, Detective.” I winked. “You’ve just never seen me in action.”

“The night is young,” he said on a low sexy voice, his eyelids lowering to a sleepy bedroom look.

“And we still haven’t had a real date. Not to mention the case is cold, remember?” I gently reminded him, regretting our decision to wait for dessert as much as he seemed to be.

“How could I forget?” He groaned. “You’re killing me, Tink.”

Harry and Hazel returned to the table. “Where did the captain go?” she asked, looking disappointed.

“Lady Luck deserted him, so he called it a night,” Mitch said. “Can I see your winning card?”

“Sure thing.” Hazel thrust it at him proudly.

“Nice handwriting,” I said. “You have a very distinct flowery style that’s easily recognized, I imagine.”

Her beaming face slipped a bit, and her gaze darted briefly to Harry. His sharp gaze was locked on Mitch, and then she took her card back. “Thank you,” was all she said.

“Huh. I think you’re right, Sunny,” Mitch said, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “In fact, I’ve seen handwriting just like this recently. The person was left-handed, too. Coincidence?”

“Hmmm.” I pretended to contemplate, then said, “I think not.”

“She was with me,” Harry said in a calm, cool, and ruthless judge-like way, putting his arm around Hazel’s shoulders. I recognized the look because it was the same one my mother used when she was about to play hardball.

“Excuse me?” Mitch asked.

“I know what you’re getting at, Detective. Yes, Hazel acted on an emotional impulse and wrote the note to Bernadette, warning her to stay away from the captain. But that’s all she did. After the captain dismissed her so callously, her affections turned in other directions. The night of the murder, she was with me.”

“But I thought you two just started hanging out,” I said in surprise as I studied Harry in a whole new light. And based on Hazel’s actions tonight, I would say
her affections were still pointed straight in the captain’s direction.

“I met Hazel my first night in town, and we’ve been friends ever since. Friendlier as of late. And with that, I think we’ll call it a night. If you have any further questions, you can speak to my lawyer.” His hard gaze landed on me. “I know a good one.” They left without another word, leaving me with another question.

Why on earth was a man like Harry involved with a woman like Hazel?

*    *    *

Sunday after church I paid a visit to the Divine Inspiration Inn on Inspiration Lake. Today was cloudy, with the threat of a summer thunderstorm looming in the distance. Once again, Harry was MIA. He was probably off somewhere with Hazel, working out their alibis.

The inn was a large pale-green-and-white Victorian house with an enormous wraparound porch. A bit like Vicky, but much newer and nicer. It sat back from the road on a private lot of land, with a large backyard filled with wicker furniture and tables.

Down by the lake sat a long dock where people went fishing or jumped off to swim. And a row of quaint cottages ran along the edge of the lake, with their own private beach that housed kayaks, canoes, rowboats, and inner tubes.

I could see why my parents were so enchanted with this place. It was full of elegance and charm, yet filled with plenty of things to do. And plenty of people at the
moment, including my parents. I took in the scene before me.

A tall man in a white suit with sandy blond hair slicked back, like something straight out of
The Great Gatsby
, wandered around making sure the guests were satisfied. He stopped short when he saw my mother and, while his smile remained firmly in place, it stiffened somewhat.

He had to be Pierce Theodore, owner of Divine Inspiration.

“Vivian. Donald.” He bowed slightly at the waist. I heard him say as I came to a stop before them, “I trust your stay here has been pleasant?”

“It’s been satisfactory.” Mom leaned in and added, “It will be pleasant the day you take my advice and get a decent espresso bar.”

“Some fine cigars would be a nice addition as well,” Dad chimed in, rubbing his stomach. “There’s nothing like topping off a day with a quality cigar and top-shelf liquor.”

Peirce stiffened, nodded once as though he didn’t trust himself to speak, and then wandered off to his other guests.

“Mom. Dad.” I bowed slightly, just like Pierce had, and then chuckled. “Don’t you two think you’re a bit hard on Mr. Theodore?”

“Certainly not, darling.” Mom dusted imaginary lint off the front of her suit, in full lawyer mode now. “This inn has so much potential to be a five-star establishment, but Mr. Theodore has settled for four and a half. I’m
just trying to push him a bit. One should always strive to do their best.”

Dad grunted, glancing in my direction, but didn’t say a word. Probably because he knew I was their ride to my place for their weekly session with Granny and Fiona. I’d told him in the past that if he kept insulting me, I’d stop speaking to him. Just because my profession wasn’t his cup of tea didn’t mean I wasn’t doing my best. I was happy. That was all that should matter.

“Where’s Mr. Dingleburg?” I asked, changing the subject while I still could.

“Off somewhere righting the world, no doubt. Now there’s a man who is a success in life,” Dad boomed, bringing us right back around.

Grrr.

On the drive to my place, I filled them in on what Mitch and I had discovered thus far.

“Well, you’d better step it up,” Mom said from my backseat. “We can’t clear either of their names based on that.”

“You’re not getting in Detective Stone’s way, are you?” Dad thundered from beside me. He wasn’t even a lawyer, yet he also wore a suit and played the part of Mom’s sidekick.

Lord help us all when they both retire.

“Of course I’m not getting in Mitch’s way,” I lied. “And you don’t have to shout. Your voice echoes in here.”

“It wouldn’t if you’d spend some money and buy a real car. I can hardly move in this contraption.” Dad squirmed. “My suit is wrinkling.”

“A car with air-conditioning that works would be nice,” Mom said, holding a scarf around her head. “My hair will never be the same. And I’m starting to perspire. That just won’t do.”

“We’re here,” I said, silently thanking the Lord for small miracles. As soon as we stepped out, the heavens opened up and it began to pour.

I bit back a laugh as Mom shrieked, attempting to run in high heels. “Donald, do something.”

“I’ve got you, darling.” He scooped her up and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her, his strides much longer than hers. They were both laughing by the time he set her down, but when they saw me, they cleared their throats and smoothed their clothes.

“Too late. I saw you.” I smirked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mom marched toward the front door and led the way inside. Dad followed hot on her heels, not saying a word, but his lips twitched several times as he passed by, and he shot me a rare wink along the way.

I shook my head with a grin. In my heart, I knew they cared about me as much as they cared about each other. They were both just too proper and stubborn to ever show it.

As soon as we got inside, it stopped raining and an eerie feline rumbling purr sounded from close by. My parents looked around warily, then took Granny and Fiona into the study to go over some things. I was making myself a cup of iced tea when Morty appeared
in the kitchen, carrying a small stuffed dog in his mouth. I stared at him in surprise.

I’d tried to tell Granny that Morty didn’t play with toys, but she’d ordered it for him anyway after all the signs he’d given that he liked dog toys. Fiona had topped her with a whole litter of stuffed puppies, of course. Trying to outdo each other even further, Granny had indeed made dog biscuit–shaped cookies out of cat food, and Fiona had managed to make a cat-sized ankle bracelet like theirs. A ball of string or a rubber mouse would have been the logical choices, but there was no talking to either of them when they were on a tear.