Domestic Affairs (Tiara Investigations Mystery) (6 page)

BOOK: Domestic Affairs (Tiara Investigations Mystery)
13.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Paul had requested bottles of still and sparkling water and the waiter refilled my glass with the former.
 
It was nice and cold. Me on the outside, “Mmm, ice water.” Me on the inside, “Like what’s running through Paige’s veins.” Her father was murdered and his body removed from the funeral home, and this is how she was acting? Why had she invited herself to come to dinner, in the first place?

Hell,
nothing ventured
.
 
“Did you insert the wetware chip into your father?”

Before she could answer, Al jumped in. “Paige, what is this I’m eating?”

She looked flustered so I answered him.
 
“It’s a salad skewer with spinach, goat cheese, and blueberries.”
 

Did Al know or care that the rest of the table had ignored him? Tiara Investigations had a whole lot to cover when we convened our next staff meeting.
 

Tara stood up. “Anybody know where the ladies’ room is?
 
Anyone want to join me?”

Victoria and I stood and when we looked at Paige, she stood too. Off we went.
 

I reapplied Coral Crush to my lips. “Was your father apprehensive about water security at Lake Lanier?”

“He was concerned; actually it was more like an obsession, about security at Buford Dam.”

Obsession?
 
The word that came to my mind was paranoia, but, hey, who am I?

I’m so used to snooping that I eavesdrop without meaning to most of the time I’m in public, but I wasn’t listening when we approached the table. I noticed my husband, Shorty, and Paul panicking, shaking their heads, looking at Al, then at us, unh-unh-ing. Basically, doing everything they could think of to shut him up.
 

I heard Al say, “I’m telling you that girl can suck a tennis ball through a garden hose.”

Well, that was awkward. The look on my face said I was repulsed and the expression on Jack’s changed to “I’ve never seen the guy before in my life.” He, Paul, and Shorty stood and a beat later, Al did too. Being Southern we pretended we didn’t hear what Al had said about his wife, assuming he was referring to her talents.
 
Had Paige heard him? The agenda for that staff meeting was getting longer and longer. We had a lot to chew on.
  

The next course was served and we tucked in. The conversation lightened up and I was glad of it.
  

I dabbed the corner of my mouth.
 
“Al, what kind of work do you do?”
 

“I design and build secure rooms for the feds.”
 

“SCIFs?” I asked. My husband’s reaction to my question was understated to say the least. He was too busy getting a reading on our new friends.
 

“Which locations have you designed?” Jack asked.
 
He performs these one-person informal background checks on anyone who is new to our circle.
 

He needn’t have bothered. I didn’t intend to see either of them again after Thomas Chestnut’s funeral.
 

“I worked on three at the Capitol and at a handful of military installations, domestic and abroad. The SCIFs at the Capitol were rooms, and the others were trailers.”
 

Paige added, “The company has a facility in North Carolina where he goes to test any new design.”
 

“Oh?” Jack tuned back in and addressed Al.

“We check to be sure the walls can withstand a blast. And to be sure no signal is escaping.”
 

Jack nodded.
 

Then it was time for dessert. The waiters handed out engraved cards with our choices on the front side and the aperitifs were listed on the reverse.
 

I leaned closer to Tara and Paul to have a quick moment of private conversation. “The funeral will be held tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yes, at five o’clock,” Paul said. “We thought that time would be alright, since there’s no graveside service. You’ll be there, won’t you?”

“I will be, but Jack flies out in the morning.”

Paige turned to Jack. “Where are you going?”

“Business,” he mumbled.

When we were about finished, there was some rearranging around the little stage. Two musicians tuned their guitars. “Good evening. I’m Mike and this is my wife, Marisa. I wrote this first song for her. It’s called ‘A Love Worth Waiting For.’”

“This time we are dancing.” My husband stood and reached for my hand. I placed my napkin on my chair and we were off. Tara and Paul and Victoria and Shorty followed us to our two makeshift dance floors. I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, so I burrowed into my husband’s neck.
 

Here’s to a love worth waiting for,

Here’s to a lane stretching out ahead,

Here’s to a life of more and more,

Here’s to us happily wed.

When the song ended, we snaked though the other tables.
 
Paul was first in line and stopped short. “Paige and Al are gone. Didn’t they know I was picking up the check?”
 

I looked around the room to see just how gone they were. “Shake my tree, till I drop my peaches,” was all I could say. I saw my phone vibrating across the table and walked around Paul to answer it.
 
“That was Kelly.
 
Beatrice hasn’t made it home.”

CHAPTER 8

Continuation of statement by Leigh Reed.
 
Before Paul could ring the doorbell at the Fords’ home in Cumming, Victoria reached around him and tried the knob.
 
We had taken the war into the enemy’s country.
 
First, Al had showed up at the restaurant late, and second, the couple had disappeared after dinner, without saying a word.
 
We figured paying them a visit was as good a starting point as any. The door wasn’t locked so we walked into the modest house. I knew Paul and Shorty and my husband were giving each other looks, but that was too bad.
 

I smelled Al’s cheap shit cologne in the room to our left and I turned in the opposite direction. “I’ll see if he’s in here.” I motioned to the right. I pivoted so Victoria and Tara could see my eyebrow lower just a smidge.

“No, you don’t.” It was my husband. You can say aw-w-w-w if you want because it was sweet. “I’ll check this out.”

Paul and Shorty puffed up and it was adorable.
 
“Yeah, stay out here.”

Tara cooed, “Be careful!”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t wait for the police?”
 
Vic was doing her part, but we needed to get crackin.’

Our he-men headed off to what looked like the den and we followed the cologne trail. I scanned the rooms.
 
I swear the whole house was a man-cave. That’s just wrong. Bingo, we found him and not a moment too soon. Mr. Ford was headed out the kitchen door. I grabbed his shoulders and yanked him back to a kitchen table chair Vic had thoughtfully pulled out.
 
I slung him into it and pinned him with my hands on his shoulders and my knee between his thighs up against his privates. “Where’s Beatrice?” That’s the oldest trick in the book.
 
I didn’t ask if he’d kidnapped her.
 

“She’s not here!”
  

“Keep it down,” Tara warned him.

“Leigh?” It was my husband calling me from the living room.

“Shhh!” I put my hand over Al’s mouth. “Be right there.”

The look on his face told me he remembered what my husband looked like. We had come to an understanding.
 
Things could get a whole lot worse than having my knee up against his junk.
 

Victoria leaned in about an inch from his face. “Tell us where Beatrice is or she,”––here she nodded to me and motioned with her thumb––“will rip you a new one.”

“A new what?” When he asked that it hit me what I wasn’t hearing. His speech had not so much as a trace of an accent. Neither Tara, Victoria nor myself have much of one, but this guy verbally was a blank.
  

“Really? You don’t know what that expression means?” Vic asked him.

“No.”

“Tell him.”
 
I chuckled.

“I’d rather not.”
 

“A new asshole!” Tara hadn’t hesitated.

I heard my husband say, “She was last seen at what time?”

Paul answered, “A little before seven.”

“So two hours ago?” This was from my husband.
 
“Frank, did you notice if there was anyone suspicious looking hanging around when you walked her out?”

“Maybe she’s home by now.” It sounded like Shorty, also known as Frank, just wanted to go home himself.
 
He’s not real social, but in all fairness he’s in surgery three days a week at zero dark thirty. Next I heard a cell phone ring and Shorty used some fancy medical terms. Could have meant breathe through your nose, not your mouth or take an Alka-Seltzer, for all I knew.

I motioned for Vic to go out there and keep them occupied.
 
She was on her way when Tara stopped her.
 
I had heard it too. A muffled voice and the rustle of leaves coming from somewhere outside. “Where were you headed when we came in?” I whispered.

Al didn’t answer me. Victoria and Tara followed the sound.
 
They were back in about two minutes. Victoria came in first. I expected to see Tara next, but it was Al’s wife, Paige, who came in, followed by Tara.
 

Paige Ford was tucking her cell phone in her waist band. She looked at us wide eyed. I figured if she had been standing out there very long in the dark, she would have been squinting in the brightness of the kitchen lighting. Right?
  

“What were you doing out there in the dark?” I asked, in what I thought was a sisterly tone.
 

“Just getting a breath of fresh air.”

“Uh-huh.”

We wanted to know what she’d been doing outside, but figured we wouldn’t find out if we asked in front of her husband.
 
It was time to bring our A game.
 

I gave Tara and Victoria a quick glance. “Obviously you can’t help us find Beatrice, so we’ll be going now.”
 

“If you hear from her, or if you think of anything you’d like to add that you may have forgotten, please call Detective Kent at the Gwinnett Police satellite station at the Mall of Georgia.” This was from Tara and the second part sounded just like what Kent had said to us last year. Then she must have remembered who she was talking to because she broke it down for him. “Just call 9-1-1.”

We were headed out, but not before Vic got in her bit of politeness. “Don’t get up.” Like he had made any move at all. The way his eyes darted to the living room where Jack was, told me Al was perfectly happy to stay in the kitchen. “We’ll let ourselves out. Good to see you again.” By that last one, I was pulling her out of the room.

We walked through the living room and motioned for the rest of our party to follow us out the front door.
 
Shorty was hanging up his cell phone as he walked. “I need to get to the hospital. Can someone give Victoria a ride home?” Now,
she
was standing right there. I remembered why I didn’t really care for him, though I would never want Vic to suspect that for a minute.
 

“We’ll be happy to.”
 
Tara moved closer to her.

“Let me be sure I have house keys with me.” As Victoria said this she moved to a coach light, which was in serious need of a paint job, and Tara and I knew to follow her. Tiara Investigations was going into conference mode. “I think Al Ford knows where Bea is,” she said.

“In case you didn’t notice, that’s not exactly a brain trust in there. He’s not smart enough to kidnap anybody!” I whispered. “We need to know who’s helping him and the only way we’re going to find out is to follow him.”

“Our speci-a-l-t-y!”
Tara gave a nervous, forced grin. The clock was ticking and we were all three anxious for Beatrice’s safety.

“I have an idea.” I turned to face the guys. “We should be with Kelly. She’s by herself with her newborn. Paul, can we take your car?
 
Jack can drive you home. That way, Tara, Victoria and I can go stay with her.” My husband gave me a hurt look and I remembered he was going back to Afghanistan in the morning. I closed my eyes and mouthed,
I’m sorry
.
 
“I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

Paul looked a little discombobulated, but when Tara held out her hand for his car keys with that little head tilt she does, he took the path of least resistance.
 

My husband walked past me to the car and got in.
 
Paul followed him, and Tara went to kiss him goodnight. Jack had started the engine, but until the two lovebirds finished carrying on, he couldn’t pull out. I tapped on the window. Before I could say a word he started, “Let me get this straight. You met this woman a few hours ago and you’re this concerned about her.”

I stared at him, pulled between love and a lie. “Yes, I am concerned about her. Maybe Victoria and Tara and I can help find her. At this point the police aren’t going to do squat.” I looked in his face for any sign of disbelief or a dismissive attitude, but all that was there was a question.

Tara came to my rescue and answered him. “She was Paul’s stepfather’s fiancée.”

“My stepfather, who you had
never
met,” Paul added.

 
He had us there.

“Practically family,” I said. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
 
I stepped away from the car, figuring the sooner Jack and Paul left, the sooner we could follow Al.

“I’m leaving in the morning, you know.” He put the car in reverse.

“You mean you’re leaving
again
in the morning.” I walked away, and my husband backed the car down the driveway.
 
I doubt he even looked back.
     

I dote on my husband and he dotes on me, but it was time for him to put on his big boy pants and deal with it. I was doing the right thing looking for Bea, rather than going home and leaving it to Tara and Victoria, who were walking by my side.
 

“Are you okay with this?” Victoria glanced at Jack driving away.

“Al isn’t going anywhere until we’re gone, or he thinks we are,” I whispered.
 

Tara took my hand in both hers and pressed the car keys into my palm. “I’m glad you’re going with us.
 
Will you drive?
 
I don’t trust myself.”

 
Paul’s very big Mercedes was parked on the street.
 
 
He’s not too much taller than me so I didn’t bother changing the seat position. “Do they give these out when you graduate from medical school?
 
Most doctors seem to drive Mercedes.”
 

“Shorty’s never driven anything but a Mercedes either, and always S Class. I thought it was just him being predictable,” Victoria said.

I drove to the nearest intersection, turned left, and stopped. Then I got out my opera glasses.
“I’d love to know what Paige was doing behind her house. Can either of you see their backyard?”

“I think we’re too far away.” Victoria’s voice was hesitant.

Tara hadn’t answered.
 

I looked at Victoria and saw she was looking through opera glasses. “You put opera glasses in your handbags, too?” I asked.

“Force of habit,” she said.
 

“I see a small shed,” Tara said. “It looks just big enough for a riding lawn mower, though.”
 

I looked at her in the rear view mirror and she was also gazing at the Fords’ backyard with the aid of opera glasses.
 

“It’s the third house down and there aren’t any fences between them. I think I’ll go have a look in that shed.” I jumped out of the car before they could argue.
 
“Victoria, drive back to their street. I’ll meet you there.”

Tara reached for my opera glasses. “Leave those with us. If you get caught wearing them, you’ll look deranged.”

I got out of the car and shook my hands, then my feet to warm up.
 
“Stealth is my middle name.”

Victoria and Tara stage whispered, “Stealth is your middle name!”

“I do not have to go to the bathroom as bad as I think I do!” I tossed my opera glasses back in the car, looked both ways and crossed the street.
 
I crept slowly into the first backyard, then a motion detector turned on a light and I picked up my pace and jogged through. As soon as I put one foot into the second yard, a tiny, yapping dog came after me. I charged off like it was last call.
 
He about caught me when I made it to the Ford’s yard.
 
The mangy creature froze. There had to be an invisible fence. He was feeling pretty high and mighty because the intruder he was chasing was actually running away, and I doubt he’d have stopped for anything less. I was so grateful I swore right then and there that I would change my will to stipulate that if I ever got a pacemaker and an invisible fence killed me, my heirs were not to sue. Or was that microwaves in convenience stores that kill people with pacemakers?
 
Couldn’t think about that then because we’d left the Fords in their kitchen which was in the back of their house. I hunched over and ran the rest of the way to the little prefab shed.
 
I went to the far side and looked in the miniature window.
 

I sprinted through their side yard and up the street to my partners, and jumped in.

No Beatrice Englund, just John Deere. That was so exhilarating
it feels like this seat is vibrating.”

“Tara?” Vic called out. “That’s your foot, isn’t it?”

“Hell, yeah. If whoever murdered Pop Tart kidnapped Bea, she could be dead.
 
Has Kelly called the police?”
 

Vic locked the car doors. “They would say it’s too early to know for sure she’s been kidnapped.”
 

My heart rate was returning to normal. “Let’s sit here for another few minutes and see if they leave. Vic, how did Bea seem when you walked her to her car?”

“A little embarrassed about fainting, but other than that she seemed fine. She called Kelly to see if she needed her to pick up diapers on the way home, and she told her about running into us. We talked for a minute about my grandbabies.”

BOOK: Domestic Affairs (Tiara Investigations Mystery)
13.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Morning Glory by Diana Peterfreund
Uninvolved by Carey Heywood
Friend Zone by Dakota Rebel
Gypsy Moon by Becky Lee Weyrich
Stryker's Revenge by Ralph Compton


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024