Vanessa Gray Bartal - Lacy Steele 07 - Icy Grip of Murder (13 page)

“Not now. I’m on vacation.”

After they left Flea, they took the
original map of the campground and went in search of Jenny’s hideout cabin.
When they found it, the door was locked. Jason stepped back with a flourish.

“Do your thing,” he said to Michael.

“How is this not breaking and
entering?” Michael asked.

“Because the occupant is dead and
she didn’t own it anyway,” Jason said.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Michael
said.

“Because I’m hungry and freezing
and I want to get this over with so we can go, okay?” Jason said.

“Okay,” Michael said. He crouched
in front of the door and began finagling a tool he pulled from his wallet. Lacy
watched with interest, but she couldn’t tell what he was doing or how he was doing
it.
A few seconds
later, the lock popped and the door
swung open.

Even though Jenny had only been
gone a day, the cabin felt deserted. Maybe the abandoned feeling was Lacy’s
imagination because everything seemed to be in order.

“Tidy,” Jason commented, and there
was no mistaking the approval in his tone.

“She was a neat freak, like you.
Most psychopaths are,” Michael said.

Besides being neat, the cabin was
well appointed. The furniture, though sparse in such a small space, looked new
and moderately expensive. The walls had been freshly painted and the carpets
and drapery matched. Lacy knew from personal experience that it wasn’t cheap to
try and outfit a room with curtains, rugs, and decorations. There was also a
flat screen television, sound system, and cabinet full of movies.
 
Jenny had money coming from somewhere.

Michael and Jason began rifling
through her objects, but Lacy sat on the floor and read her movie titles. She
hadn’t known Jenny, not really, but they’d had one conversation. Now she was dead.
There was no way to remain unaffected, to not question
her
own
mortality, however briefly.

Their taste in movies couldn’t have
been more different. Jenny preferred gritty independent films, the kind that
are usually filmed with low lighting and center on death and mayhem. Lacy
preferred lighter fare, and she was oddly comforted by the discrepancy. She and
Jenny might have been almost the same age, but that was where the similarities
stopped.

Jason and Michael met up in the
center of the living room. “Find anything?” Jason asked.

“Nothing,” Michael said.

“How can that be? She lived here
for two years and barely left. If she was keeping secrets, she had to keep them
here,” Jason said. “There must be something hidden. Check the walls.” They set
off again and began knocking on the walls, presumably checking for hollow
spots. Lacy meandered into the bedroom and peeked at Jenny’s clothes. Her taste
in t-shirts ran Goth—black with obscure band names and skulls. She opened
the underwear drawer and saw one thing they had in common—Jenny owned
almost all the same pairs of French lace panties that were currently in her
drawer at home. She quickly shut the drawer, vowing to return to her sensible
cotton underwear for everyday. The glimpse of underpants had proved what Lacy
already believed—nice girls wear cotton, at least to work.

“Find something?” Jason asked as he
entered the room.

“My resolve,” Lacy said.
 

“How long had it been missing?”

“Since Riley’s birth,” she said.
“Did you find anything?”

“Nothing in the walls. We need to
check the floors.”

The floors were thick plank so
knocking wouldn’t work. They commenced stomping. Lacy followed them from room
to room to observe. It was like watching two men square dance with no music.

They came full circle in the living
room. The search seemed futile until Jason stepped on the end of a plank. The
other end popped free and slammed him in the shoulder.

“Geez,” he exclaimed and bent over
so quickly that he also bashed his head on it before it clattered back down.

“I’ve never seen that happen
outside a Roadrunner cartoon,” Michael said.

“Are you okay?” Lacy asked.

“I’m fine, but that’s probably
going to leave a mark,” Jason said. He rubbed his shoulder and head and squatted
beside Michael who was already rifling through the hollowed out hiding place.
He pulled out a small leather pouch and dumped the contents into his hand.
Jewelry spilled out, so much that the excess rained onto the floor.

“I saw some jewelry in a box on her
dresser. Why would she keep the rest in here?” Lacy asked.

“Maybe this stuff wasn’t hers,
maybe she was planning to get rid of it,” Michael said.

“Looks like we need to have another
conversation with Louse, the earnest and upright jeweler,” Jason said.

Behind them, the window shattered.
They scrambled for cover, but there was none. If it was another MacGyver bomb
with shrapnel, they were in for some pain. And if it was another Molotov
cocktail, they were goners. The aged condition of the wooden cabin meant it
would light up like a torch.

After a second of chaos and panic,
they had the presence of mind to see what exactly had been tossed through the
window.

“It’s a rock,” Jason said, rolling
off Lacy.

“We’ve angered Dennis the Menace,”
Michael said.

“Let’s go. He might still be out there
with something worse than granite,” Jason said. He hauled Lacy up while Michael
stuffed the jewel-laden pouch in his pocket.

Before going to confront Louse,
they fortified themselves with lunch from the diner Jason lovingly referred to
as, “The pie place.”

“What’s the best way to approach
Louse?” Jason asked.

“Head on,” Michael said. “He’s
always been the smartest of the group. He would see it coming if we tried to
lull him into a false sense of security. In fact, I think I should take the
lead on this one. He’s already suspicious and resentful of you after the
engagement ring thing.
Unless you’re ready to actually buy a
ring.
Or some knives.
That would probably put you
back on his good side.”

“No,” Jason and Lacy said together.

“Okay, then let me do the talking.”

They finished eating and drove to
Louse’s jewelry store, waiting in the car until the coast was clear. Two
customers came and left. Lacy wondered if they were legitimate. One of them was
elderly, but Jason assured her that didn’t mean much.

“It’s always the people you least
suspect,” he said.

“You’re cynical,” she accused.

“That’s why I have you, to keep me
upbeat,” he said.

“You’ve never been upbeat a day
since I’ve known you,” she said.

“That means you need to work harder,”
Jason said. “There’s a peppy guy in here somewhere, I know it.”

“You were downright chipper over
the doughnuts this morning,” Michael said.

“I’m on vacation,” Jason said.

The jewelry store cleared of
customers, and they went in. Louse didn’t look up until Jason locked the door,
and then he scowled.

“What do you guys want? To pretend
to buy another ring?”

“No, we wanted to talk to you about
these.” Michael dumped the bag of jewelry on the counter. Louse leaned closer
to examine them.

“What are these?” he asked.

“You tell us,” Michael said.

“I see some nice looking stones,
some eighteen carat gold. Did you come to fence something? Because I don’t do
that.” He glanced nervously at Jason.

“Don’t worry, he’s not a cop right
now; he’s on vacation,” Michael said.

“Then what’s this about? I can’t
hock this stuff for you all at once. That would be a red flag.”

“We’re just trying to carry on the
tradition you started with Jenny.”

“Jenny? What does Jenny have to do
with this?” Louse asked. “Jenny’s dead.”

“I know. I’m the one who found her.
Are you the one who killed her?”

“What?” Louse asked. His shock
looked genuine, but Lacy tended to believe everyone was genuine. She looked to
Jason to gauge his reaction. He was studying Louse with narrowed eyes and a
tilted head. Maybe he was confused, too. “I heard it was suicide.” He reached
beneath the counter. Jason tensed. Was he reaching for a weapon? But, no, he
pulled out a bottle of cleaner and set it on the glass counter.

“Do you really believe that?
Knowing Jenny, do you believe she would off herself?” Michael asked.

Louse shrugged. “She had a lot
going on.” So did he, apparently, because he pulled out another container and
spilled its contents onto the counter.

“Like what?”

“Like you came back and didn’t
believe she was dead. She had to know you would find her eventually.” He
unfurled a rag, sprayed some of what was in the bottle on it, and began wiping
the counter.

“Do you think it sounds like Jenny
to concede defeat so easily? I come back into town so she decides to kill
herself. Does that sound right to you?” Michael asked.

“No, it doesn’t. Jenny would go
down kicking and screaming to the last possible minute. Offing
herself
would be a sign of surrender. And if she
was
going to off herself, she would want to make you pay.
She would make it look like you did it. Again.”

“Speaking of which, thanks so much
for coming forward to clear my name these last few years,” Michael said.

Louse held up his hands. “Hey, as
far as I knew, Jenny was dead and you killed her, at least at first. I didn’t
hear from her for a long time. And by the time I did, you were gone. What would
have been the point of coming forward?”

“Self-preservation goes a long way
with you,” Michael said.

“It goes a long way with everyone.
Everyone I know is looking out for himself. Why should I be any different?”
Louse said. “Speaking of which, this product just cleaned bacon grease off this
glass. No streaks, see?”

Lacy and Jason leaned forward to
inspect the
streakless
counter. Michael remained
upright.

“Yeah, well something I’ve learned
since I went away is that not everyone looks out for himself. Some people
genuinely care,” Michael said.

“I think I saw that once on an
after school special,” Louse said. “What are you doing here and what do you
want with me? I’ve got a legitimate business to run here. And, today only, all
cleaning products are half off.”

Jason picked up the bottle and
began to read its contents.

“We found these at Jenny’s place,”
Michael continued unabated. He must be used to Louse’s hard-pressed sale
tactics. Lacy found them distracting. Jason found them
tempting,
if the intense concentration he was giving the cleaning solution was any
indication. “It seems you and she had a good scheme going. Jenny stole the
jewelry and you fenced it for her.”

“So,” Louse said.

“So maybe something went wrong in
your little partnership and you killed her.”

Louse rolled his eyes. “Not that
again. I didn’t kill Jenny. Why would I? Business has been good. Real business,
I mean. I’m trying to go straight here. I only take on stuff like this for
friends.”

“Then why did Jenny have this
jewelry at her place? I know she was getting money from somewhere,” Michael
said.

“Not from me. This was an old gig,
way before she went off the grid. We had a good system going.
Jenny had light fingers
,
you know that
.
She got some good stuff for me when I was first getting started, and I paid her
well. Then she disappeared and I didn’t hear from her for about a year.
After that she contacted me and gave me a ring, but it was worth
pocket change.
Occasionally I got a few pieces from her, but no serious
money. This stuff was probably what was left of her stash and she cashed it in
whenever she needed a little bit extra. But believe me, the money I gave her
wasn’t enough to live on. It was enough to buy some makeup or whatever women
buy.”

“Are you trying to tell me that
Jenny, who was supposed to be dead, waltzed into your store whenever she needed
a little extra cash?”

“No, we worked through couriers,”
he said.

“Who?” Michael asked.

“Usually Flea. He was always happy
to do her bidding. You know he had a real thing for her and she used him like
yesterday’s toilet paper. If I were looking for a potential murder suspect, I’d
start with Flea,” Louse said.

“We did. Flea was a bust, a
blubbering mess. I don’t read him for this,” Michael said.

Louse shrugged. “He would have been
my first guess, but Jenny was never short on admirers. Maybe one of them got
sick of doing her bidding.”

“Who would you pick for suspect
number two?” Michael asked.

“Bug,” Louse said.

“Why Bug?”

Louse smiled. “You think I was the
only one Jenny got money from?”

“She and Bug were fencing cars?”
Michael guessed.

“You didn’t hear it from me.” He
plucked the cleaning solution from Jason’s fingers. “If you’re interested in
this, I can make you a deal. Not only is it half off,
but
I’ll give you a share of the business. All you have to do is tell a few friends
and family how much you love the product, and you’ll be making more money than
you’ve seen in a lifetime.”

“Are you trying to involve us in a
pyramid scheme?” Lacy asked.

“It’s only bad if you’re on the
bottom. You’d be pretty near the top,” Louse said.

“No,” Jason answered.

“Then get out. And don’t come back
unless you’re willing to buy something.” He swept the pile of jewelry into his
palm and shooed them away.

“Hey, you can’t keep that.
It’s
stolen merchandise,” Jason said.

“Prove it. Oh, that’s right. You’re
out of your jurisdiction and on vacation,” Louse said. “Bye-bye.” He gave a
little wave and turned his back on them, effectively dismissing them.