Finders Keepers Losers Die (20 page)

"That won't be hard."

I thumped him lightly on the arm.

"But we have to lay some ground rules," he
said. "First, you keep me informed at all times. Second, if you
find out the missing jewelry has anything to do with Lou's murder
you're off the case. Got it?"

I nodded solemnly, wondering when would be
the best time to tell him I'd found the jewelry box. "It's not
looking like the two things are linked." I mentally crossed my
fingers and hoped that was a good enough substitute for the real
thing.

"Third, stay away from Forde. You haven't
seen him lately, have you?"

"Who?"

"Harrison Forde."

"Nope. Haven't seen him since the morning of
Lou's murder." I did my best to ignore the rhythm my pounding heart
made against my ribs. It sounded strangely like
liar, liar pants
on fire
.

"Good. Stay away from him. He's a loose
cannon."

No need to tell me that.

"And lastly, we don't talk work when we're
alone together out of the office."

"Oh."

He cocked an eyebrow. "That sounds ominous.
What is it?"

"I need to tell you something. Actually, I
need to tell you a few things."

He groaned. "Why did I get the feeling you
were holding something back?"

"In my defense, I was only holding back
because I didn't think you were going to take on Roberta's case.
Now that you are,
we
are, I can keep you informed, like you
said." I held up my hands. "And I promise that after this, I'll
keep work and sex separate."

"Sex?" He frowned. "I meant—"

"I've found the jewelry box."

"You're kidding! Cat, you're amazing.
How?"

"His mother had it."

"And she just gave it to you? Like
that?"

"Um, yeah." I studied my fingernails.
"Although she kind of thought I was his girlfriend at the
time."

He rolled his eyes and muttered, "Fuck."
Then his frown deepened. "So case closed, right?"

"Not quite. I've got the box but not the
jewels."

"It was empty?"

"It held a key and a piece of paper with a
code written on it." I fetched a notepad and pen from the bench and
wrote it down. "Any idea what it means?"

He jotted down the numbers again in
different sequences, wrote letters against them, added them up,
subtracted them and tried several ways to crack it. Eventually he
shrugged and said, "I don't know. It could mean anything."

"My guess is the numbers and key will help
us find the jewelry, but if we can't crack the code, we're
screwed." Damn gangsters. Why can't they use simple English like
the rest of us? What's with codes and secrets? Doesn't anyone trust
anyone anymore?

Will scratched his chin with the end of the
pen and stared into space. "Any thoughts?"

I sat up and tucked one foot under my butt.
Excitement bubbled inside but I also felt relieved to be able to
kick around ideas with someone. "Maybe it's a locker number and the
key opens it."

"Could be. But where's the locker?"

We contemplated that for a while.

"I think we need to learn more about Lou
Scarletti to understand where he could have hidden it," I said. "I
made an appointment with Roberta for tomorrow morning. Who knows
him better than his ex-wife, right?"

"His girlfriend. And mother perhaps."

"Maybe. But get this. Roberta is seeing
Barry Grimes, Lou's employer." I filled him in on Grimes (not
including the attempted rape), Doors Galore, and Lou's supposed job
there. Then I told him about the conversation I'd overheard earlier
between him and Roberta.

"You went there! Cat, that was stupid. You
could have—"

"Adds a new dimension though, doesn't it?" I
said, cutting him off before he got into full lecture mode.

"You got that right." He stood and picked my
blouse up off the floor. "You better put this on. I can't think
with your breasts looking at me."

"They're breasts, Will, they don't have
eyes."

"Whatever. They're putting me off."

We both got dressed then sat at his kitchen
bench. For the next two and half hours, we discussed the Scarletti
jewels, which couldn't be seen in isolation of the murder. Will
didn't repeat his threat to take me off the case if the two events
were linked though. On the contrary, he seemed keen to crack them
both. For the first time in, well, ever, he was more alive than I'd
ever seen him. His eyes shone, his skin was flushed and his mind
raced as we bandied around evidence, theories and suspects.

***

Will and I brainstormed into the small
hours, had sex then fell asleep. I woke up when his alarm went off
at seven. You wouldn't think Will had only four hours sleep by the
way he bounced out of bed.

"Be careful with Roberta," he said as he
dressed. "Don't let on that you overheard her last night."

What did he think I was? Stupid?

He took off for work and I fell back to
sleep. When I woke up again it was nearly nine, so I had to race
back to Gina's for a change of clothes and a quick shower. I
skipped breakfast and managed to be only ten minutes late to
Lincoln Gardens, a park not far from her place. I'd planned to meet
Roberta there thinking it would be a nice day to sit out on a park
bench and chat. Of course, that had been before overhearing her
conversation with Grimes. Thank God I'd chosen an open park amidst
a crowd of morning walkers and joggers. Roberta was no longer on my
list of trustworthy people.

I waited another ten minutes, feeling my
brain fogging up from caffeine deprivation. Christ, I could have
had a cup of coffee and a banana already.

Lulled by the warm morning sun, I didn't
notice Roberta approaching until her shadow fell across my line of
sight.

"Sorry, I got held up." She wore a frumpy
floral dress belted at the waist and flat brown pumps that had seen
better days. Despite the nanna clothes, there was something about
her that didn't fit. Something in her walk, in the way she held her
head and looked me right in the eyes.

Confidence. Not too much but just enough to
set alarm bells ringing. A plain Jane wouldn't have thrown herself
into the seat beside me and hiked her dress up to her knees to tan
her legs.

I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed earlier.
Then again, I hadn't been looking. Damn it, she was playing me all
right. And that
really
pissed me off.

I bit back my anger and forced a welcoming
smile. "Let's talk," I said.

"Have you found my jewelry?"

"Not yet. I need your help."

"Mine? How?"

"Tell me more about Lou. What was he like?
What did he do? Who were his friends? That sort of thing. I need to
learn more about the man to find out where he hid your jewels."

"Well, he was a bastard. Except when he was
in jail. He was a good husband then." She gave me a conspiratorial
smile. "Apart from robbing banks, he was a useless good for
nothing. When he got out, he worked at Doors Galore, visited his
mother every Wednesday night, drank at The Grotto every other
night, and oh, yes, slept with another woman."

I handed her a piece of paper and a pen.
"Can you write down the names of his friends?"

She scribbled four names. I already knew Mad
Max and Grimes. "He lost contact with his other buddies from before
jail."

"Tell me about the crime he went to prison
for."

She gave a disinterested shrug. "He held up
a bank, got caught and went down for fifteen years. They let him
out after twelve." She said it like 'they' were idiots.

"That's a long time for a robbery."

"Aggravated assault too. The manager was
hospitalized with injuries Lou gave him. Lou pleaded not guilty but
he went down anyway because the other guy was never found."

Hell-o. The article I'd read on the Internet
hadn't mentioned a second thief. Mom obviously didn't know either.
Looks like I'd found the reason why Dad couldn't put the case to
rest. He'd failed to catch the other guy. Interesting…

"Do you know who the other guy was? A
friend?"

"Nope, sorry. Lou had different friends in
those days. And they all had friends who had friends, if you know
what I mean."

I knew, and it didn't make my job any
easier. Maybe the second thief had the jewels for safekeeping while
Lou left Roberta. Maybe he realized how valuable they were. And if
Lou then wanted them back…

The partner could have killed Lou to keep
them.

"Did the witnesses give a description of the
other man?"

"They both wore masks. Lou's got ripped off
because he's a fat slob who can't run fast if his life depended on
it. The other guy was athletic. He jumped the wall out the back of
the bank and got away on foot before the cops arrived. Lou got away
too, just, but witnesses ID'd him pretty quick."

Grimes looked athletic. "So they arrested
Lou later?"

She nodded. "They raided one of his friend's
houses the next day and found him hiding out."

"Which bank did they hold up?"

"City Wide in Stonewater."

The outer suburb of Stonewater's claim to
fame was having the largest shopping mall in Renford. Apparently if
you take a wrong turn, you can end up lost for hours in chain store
hell.

"Is that where Lou did his banking?"

"City Wide? Not when we were married."

I looked down at the list of names and
pointed to the top one. "How well do you know this man?"

"Barry Grimes? Why?" The slight rise in her
voice was barely audible but I noticed it.

"Lou worked for him. I thought maybe you'd
met him."

"Oh. No, never. Or the others. I've just
heard their names."

I thanked her and made some excuse about
getting back to work. We headed in opposite directions, then I
doubled back to my car, that turned out to be not far from where
Roberta had parked her car.

I followed her to her place, a 1960's cream
brick house in the middle of suburbia with a garden that looked
like it had once been pretty but was now overgrown with knee-high
weeds. I nearly didn't recognize her when she re-emerged half an
hour later wearing black leather pants, a hot pink top stretched
tightly over boobs boosted by a Wonderbra, and her hair pulled up
in a high ponytail. She wore gold hoops the size of CDs in her ears
and stilettos so high they'd have made me dizzy. She looked like
Tacky Disco Barbie.

She got into her car and I followed her on
her morning errands. It was a complete waste of time but at least I
avoided office work for a few more hours. She went to the
beautician for three quarters of an hour and came out with a new
set of acrylics. Then she went to the market and bought fresh
fruit, some meat and cheese, and flirted with the grocer, butcher
and every other man she could lay her eyes on. And I thought Gina
was bad. She had nothing on Roberta.

After wandering through the market, I was
starving and desperate for coffee. When we passed the stall selling
coffee beans, I considered jumping into the open sacks and rolling
around in them but the scowling merchant didn't look like the
understanding sort. I was only able to keep moving forward by
holding my breath.

We left the market and headed to the bank.
While Roberta did her banking, the smell of coffee drew me to a
nearby café. I ordered a take-out and drank it in one gulp on the
sidewalk, one eye on the bank door. It must have been the shock of
much-needed caffeine hitting my deprived system, but I had a
brilliant thought.

The four-digit code could be a bank's safety
deposit box number. What safer place to hide the jewels from his
wife than in a bank? Unless some wise ass like himself decided to
hold it up.

The irony made me laugh.

After the bank, Roberta drove north along
Miles Road for about fifteen minutes. As I followed, my energy
levels started to drop. I needed food. I rummaged through my glove
compartment but only came out with a mint. I popped it in my mouth
and chewed. When we turned into Lou's street, I suddenly perked
up.

The crime scene tape had come down but cops
still maintained a presence. I wondered if Stankovic or Scarface
were watching and sank low into my seat just in case. But a quick
scan of the area told me neither was present.

Roberta slowed but didn't stop. I wondered
why she'd even bothered to drive past. Surely she knew the cops
wouldn't let her into the crime scene.

She returned home and I called it quits. I
parked on the side of the road and turned my cell phone on. I'd
switched it off for my meeting with Roberta. There were three
missed calls, all from Will. I ignored them and called
Scarface.

"Forde," he said down the line.

"It's me, Cat."

"Ah, my feline friend. What's up?"

"I want to talk to you."

"Do you know where Mama Lina's is?"

"It's only one of my favorite cafés in
Renford."

"Considering it's on The Strip, that doesn't
surprise me. Meet me there in twenty."

I hung up and drove to The Strip. I was
early but Scarface was already waiting. He wore black jeans, heavy
boots and a leather jacket even though it was a warm day. It
probably hid the holstered gun I'd caught a glimpse of once before.
He sat in a booth at the back, facing the door, slightly slouched
with his arms resting on the table. He tapped one end of an unlit
cigarette on the surface, let it glide through his fingers then
flipped it and tapped the other end. He repeated the motion, over
and over. It was the only movement in his otherwise easy, relaxed
pose.

When he saw me he raised his brows in
recognition. As I crossed the length of the café, I noticed a few
females glancing his way. Whether they were glances of wariness or
because he looked as scrumptious as the cakes displayed in the
glass cabinet, I couldn't be sure.