The Christie Curse (18 page)

I
SAID GOOD-BYE to Officer Smiley and drove off, trying not to think about the nose
prints that Walter was making on my pristine passenger-side windows. I couldn’t believe
he’d made himself comfortable on the driver’s side instead of the nicely protected
seat I’d assigned to him. Even though I’d relocated him to his proper place, he kept
trying to worm his way back to my side. I hoped he couldn’t create too much chaos
in the time it would take to get back to Harrison Falls. At least he wasn’t snuffling
and missing his new best friend with the suspicious smile.

I was desperate to get the dog into someplace that wasn’t my car. And I needed to
get back to searching for the Christie manuscript and seeing what I could dig up about
Merlin. Of course, I knew that Karen’s attack was connected even if I couldn’t figure
out how.

When I opened the door to Michael Kelly’s Fine Antiques, the bell jingled, Walter
lurched ahead of me as if this were the best place ever, and Uncle Mick didn’t even
blink.

As usual, it would take more than the unexpected arrival of a strange, and strange-looking,
dog to throw Uncle Mick off his stride.

“Very practical, my girl. We’ll put him to work keeping out the thieves,” Mick said.

Walter had not the slightest talent in that direction, but I kept that thought to
myself as well as the related thought that the thieves were all on the inside. You
have to be careful with relatives.

Of course, the next time the door jingled and the long arm of the law appeared, Uncle
Mick almost blinked. Really. I saw it with my own eyes.

“Tyler Dekker,” my new nemesis said, giving Uncle Mick what looked like a very firm
handshake. Did I detect a flinch from my uncle? “Jordan’s told me so much about you.
It’s a real pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Kelly.” He turned toward Uncle
Lucky, now looming silently in the doorway to the back room, eyes narrowed. Uncle
Lucky shook his head in what I assumed was astonishment.

I turned and mouthed, “I didn’t tell them a thing.”

Officer Smiley moved briskly across the crowded shop to the back door. “And you must
be Uncle Lucky. Great to meet you.” He shook Lucky’s hand vigorously.

Uncle Lucky stared at his hand as if someone had squeezed a caterpillar into it.

I barely managed not to yelp, “I’ve been framed.” I was definitely going to have some
explaining to do, although I had no idea how to explain it.

Smiley glanced around the shop. “Great little business you got going here.”

I felt doomed.

Fortunately, Officer Smiley couldn’t stay long, and Uncle Mick and Uncle Lucky seemed
to recover.

“Not my fault,” I said as soon as the door closed behind him. “And there’s no need
for a lecture if you are thinking of that. I am not encouraging him in any way, and
I am
certainly not talking about any of the Kellys to him. I never gave him your names.
I don’t know what he’s up to, and whatever it is, I don’t like it either.”

With that settled, except for a number of wounded looks, I decided to get about my
business. First, Karen’s phone. Of course, it was useless. Too far away from the base.

At least I got a serving of canned chicken noodle soup from Uncle Mick for lunch.
He served it with pop-up dinner rolls—a culinary triumph. Perhaps that meant all was
not lost in the family department. Unlike Officer Smiley, Walter was a hit with the
Kellys. This came as a serious surprise to me because my uncles had never had a pet.
I had never had a pet, even though I’d wept and pleaded for one as a child. But Walter
had his own lunch, which was exactly like mine, only served in a bowl on the floor.
I wasn’t sure what the vet would say, but then again, the vet wasn’t there.

When I was finished, I said, “I have to go back to Sal. He’s kind of let me down.”

They exchanged glances.

“It’s not good to push Sal,” Mick said.

“Not pushing, just bringing him up to speed. Thanks for lunch. Now, can you help me
ditch the cop? He can only go in one direction at a time.”

Nothing would give either of them greater pleasure. Ten minutes later, with my blue
Saab still sitting conspicuously in front of Michael Kelly’s Fine Antiques, Uncle
Mick drove off in the white van of the same name. He headed west toward the interstate
with Walter sitting in the passenger seat looking out the window, snorting and expecting
adventure.

Immediately after, Uncle Lucky got into his classic Town Car and headed east. At about
the same time, I took a few moments to change back into my original outfit: wide-leg
dark denim trousers with a sharp white tee and Uncle Mick’s poor boy hat, and lip
gloss, of course. I let myself out the back door. I sauntered two doors down to the
garage where
the uncles keep an extra vehicle for exactly this type of situation. It was an unremarkable
Ford Focus wagon in faded black. I figured Officer Smiley would be either watching
for me to emerge from the store and get into my own car, or he’d be following one
of my uncles assuming that I was in that vehicle. That’s what I would have done in
his shoes.

I headed back downtown to Sal’s and parked a block past the office. I arrived to find
that Sal was his sartorially splendid self. I was glad I’d changed.

“Sorry to arrive on short notice,” I said, accepting the double-cheek kisses. “Circumstances
are evolving and I need to deal with them.”

Sal would know about evolving circumstances. Dealing with them was how he stayed in
business, whatever that business was.

We sat in the green leather club chairs, facing each other.

“Merlin,” I said.

Sal raised a well-groomed eyebrow.

“Does that ring a bell?”

He shrugged his elegant shoulders.

“You see, my contact who was going to give me information about the manuscript I am
seeking was badly injured just before she was supposed to meet with me.”

A furrow appeared between Sal’s eyebrows. I figured this was high emotion for him.

“Who is this contact?”

I explained about Karen and what had taken me to the hall Sunday evening. Had it been
only last night? I felt like I’d lived a week in one day.

“So you don’t think it was just a random robbery.”

I continued. “I believe it’s all connected. I think the person left her for dead.
I may have been set up. The police think I had something to do with it, and I am being
followed everywhere. Did I ever mention that the man who had my job previously was
probably murdered?”

“And this Merlin is involved?” Sal said.

“Yes. I have heard that someone named Merlin might be the person behind the object
of Vera Van Alst’s desire.”

He nodded. “And Merlin would be?”

“I don’t know. I think a fraudster, a con artist or possibly a thief. Now maybe a
killer. Or he’s doing something to cause a killer to act. I thought with your connections
in the world of, um, business, you might be able to help me out with information that
will lead to him.”

Sal reached forward and took my hand. That gave new meaning to the word “unnerving.”
“Jordan, my dear. I think you should back away from this one.”

“Thanks for the advice, Sal, but I really can’t. It’s my job, and Miss Van Alst will
fire me if I don’t keep going.”

“Maybe you have to walk away from the job too.”

Oh boy. I didn’t think that Sal would understand how I felt about my perfect cabbage
rose garret and the fabulous collection of books, the amazing meals and my opportunity
to drive around in my Saab tracking down books while looking like vintage money. So
I said, “It’s a matter of honor.”

I would have added “principle,” but I wasn’t sure it would carry any weight. Honor,
now, that was different.

Sal nodded. “You are going to have to be very careful.”

I took a deep breath. “So you know something about this Merlin then?”

“I know nothing about him. Nothing at all. But there is one person dead and another
one injured and you are connected to both of them. This is not something that happens
every day in business. I have known you all your life, Jordan, and I would not like
any harm to come to you. You must think of your family, your uncles. They lost your
mother before her time. How would they feel if something happened to you? Do you not
feel this responsibility?”

I hadn’t been feeling it up until that minute. I worried about my family running into
trouble of one kind or another, not me.

“I’ll be careful,” I said. “Really.”

“It won’t be easy watching out for someone when you have no idea who he may be. Or
as these are modern times, perhaps Merlin is a she.”

“I take your point. I won’t do anything risky. But I would appreciate any information
you can find for me.” I felt a bit of déjà vu. Hadn’t this visit been essentially
the same as the first one, with the exception of the information about Karen Smith?
I was surprised that Sal, who had a finger on everything going on in the state, had
come up empty.

Sal got to his custom-shod feet and adjusted his impeccable jacket.

“I will see what I can find out. I can dig a little deeper.”

I shivered. That phrase always makes me think of graveyards.

I was still feeling the chill as I left Sal’s office and climbed into my decoy Focus.
I looked in every direction but didn’t see anyone or anything that looked unusual.
Just in case, though, I made about two dozen unnecessary turns and drove down a few
extra alleyways before I decided the coast was clear.

No sign of my new shadow.

*    *    *

MY CHALLENGE WAS to get into Karen’s house for a good long search without getting
myself either murdered or arrested. Avoiding these fates didn’t seem as easy as it
once had been. I lacked allies. My uncles could help protect me, of course, but with
their track record it wouldn’t be good news if anyone in authority came across them
where they didn’t belong. Tiff might as well have been on the moon. Vera Van Alst
would have her own planet. I wasn’t sure what Officer Smiley was up to, and I was
really hoping that he’d stay in Harrison Falls where he belonged. My school friends
had pretty much all left the area. I had the dog, of course, but he seemed happy with
my uncles, and I was pretty sure
he’d need more protection than he’d give. Of course, my uncles had always advised
me, don’t do what they expect. It was good advice if you could figure out what it
meant.

In this case, I had an idea, and I decided to act before anyone watching caught on
to the fact that while my Saab was parked outside the antiques store, I was not parked
inside the shop.

I headed for the police headquarters (such as it was) in Grandville. I marched in
and asked to speak to the officers who had attended the reported break-in at Karen
Smith’s home. To my astonishment, they showed up within ten minutes and parked their
black-and-white in front of the station. Grandville is a quiet town. No question about
that.

I went out to meet them, smiling as though my face might break. “I hope you remember
me. I was at Karen Smith’s place when you came along. I need to get back in, but I
am very worried that whoever broke in might return. Might even be watching the place.”
This was true enough. I added, “I need to get a few things for her in the hospital,
a nightie, and toiletries. The poor woman is going to be desperate. Can you help me?”

The first one scratched his head. “Why are you asking us?”

“I need protection. And I don’t want anyone else to call the police on me. You see
my problem.”

“What about your friend? The guy from Harrison Falls?”

“He’s been called in to work. And this is your town. Do you need to ask permission
or something? I’m not in a hurry. I can wait if you do.”

Of course they didn’t need permission, and would never have admitted it to a civilian
if they did. They swaggered off to their car, and I followed in my invisible Focus.

Shortly afterward, we arrived back at Karen Smith’s. Luckily the officers were easily
distracted. As they went ahead into the back office area of the shop, I produced the
empty soda can full of change that I’d been carrying. I threw
it at the farthest part of the first-floor shop. I was taught this trick by Tiff.
It was supposed to be useful when encountering bears in the woods or dealing with
drunken, groping frat boys. Shock and awe, with a zero percent chance of casualties.
As they investigated the rolling clatter, it bought me enough time to head upstairs
and slip the receiver back on the cradle in the living room and let it recharge. Meanwhile,
I went into the bedroom and selected what I thought Karen might want when she woke
up. I didn’t want to think
if
she woke up. I found a small overnight case and filled it with the usual stuff: toothpaste,
toothbrush, deodorant, face cream, two nighties, slippers and clean underwear. I also
put together an outfit that she could wear when, not if, she came home. I figured
the clothes she’d been found in would be sitting in the evidence room at the cop shop.
As I gathered up everything, I checked each surface and under the bed, behind chairs,
everywhere I could think of, searching for a clue to anybody she’d contacted recently.
I knew that whatever she’d found out for me, it had to have been within the last day
and a half as I hadn’t even met her before Saturday. I found nothing. No messages.
No notes. No scribbled telephone numbers. Nothing. Well, a note to herself.
Buy dog food
was scrawled on a napkin from Yummers, the concession at the book fair. I felt a
little light go on over my head. That girl at the book fair, as mopey and dopey as
she was, had a unique perspective because of her location. She could see everybody
who came and went, and my guess was that most people bought something from her: coffee,
water, rancid Danishes. Best of all, she had a clear view of Karen’s booth. She was
in touch, but not in the same business. But how could I reach her? Would the people
at Saint Sebastian’s have a contact? Would one of the vendors at the fair?