DOUBLE MINT (24 page)
Authors: Gretchen Archer
In a second chair, on the other side of Bianca, a chair that had tipped over on the
floor, the thud we’d heard, was Miles Davenport. He too was bound and gagged and he’d
been beaten to a pulp. One of his eyes was swollen completely shut, like he was wearing
an eye patch, and when his chair tipped over and hit the ground, it trapped his bent
leg. We were looking at a one-eyed one-legged master criminal.
Long John Silver.
Bianca, with her gargantuan crooked eyelashes, trained her taser gun on him. “Tell
them what he did to me, David! Tell them!”
“They know, Bianca,” I said from under the tree. “Tell us what
you
did to
him.
”
Hands on hips, she spun my way and used the taser gun to mark her words. “I
never
gave you permission to call me by my first name.”
“And you’ve never known mine.”
The cat. The cat. I finally found a blur of yellow, but I couldn’t catch it. The cat
raced up and down the tree trunk from me to the sock nest, then back to me. When it
got to me it put its cat nose almost against mine, cried, then raced back up the tree.
I was helpless to slow it down, figure out what was wrong with it, stop the crying,
or catch it.
“Something is wrong with your cat, David.” I pulled my head out of the tree and found
Bianca. She blinked several times, probably starting a typhoon in the Gulf.
“Did you
tase
it?”
The cat, realizing I wasn’t under the tree with it, started crying again. I dove back
in. I moved in the direction of the noise, directly in my ears now, it was so dark
at the base of the tree. When I pulled my head out again to ask for a flashlight,
I saw Bradley behind Sears, trying to remove his Marcoliani sock gag. I hoped he wouldn’t
go for his new favorite toy and shoot the sock off Sears’s head.
“Why do you have Sears tied up, Bianca?” Did she know something we didn’t? Was Sears
in on this?
“That man,” Bianca pointed to Sears with her taser gun, “obviously did something to
your cat, David. He’s an animal abuser.”
Sears, finally free of his sock muzzle, made his presence known. “STAY AWAY FROM THE
CAT! GET AWAY FROM THE CAT!”
I pulled my head out of the tree.
“What?” I asked Sears. “
What
?”
Sears hadn’t walked through a glass door. The cat had attacked him. This was what
he’d been trying to tell me.
No Hair had the barrel of his gun aimed between Miles Davenport’s eyes. He didn’t
look away as he said, “Fantasy?”
Her slow march to where Miles Davenport’s overturned chair bounced against the marble
floor as he hopelessly struggled would have been the footsteps heard round the world
had the cat not been going out of its cat mind.
“Trade places with me, Davis,” Bradley said. “Get Sears untangled and let me find
the cat.”
I took another look at Sears’s face and decided it wasn’t a bad idea. I didn’t want
the cat to tear up my face too. Not that I wanted it to tear up Bradley’s. Climbing
out of the cast iron bucket I was halfway in, I caught a glimpse of Paisley who (had
no pants on) I’d totally forgotten about, beside Baylor who (had no shirt on) I’d
forgotten about too.
“Can you help a little, Baylor?”
“With
whath
?”
He had a point.
“How abouth I noth leth anyone elthe in, Dabith?”
That would work.
I almost ran into Bianca’s eyelashes as Bradley and I switched places. My robe did
not fit her. Words were pouring out of Sears as I approached him, including socks,
refrigerator, stun gun, cat, nothing I could make any sense of until he said, “That
woman with the eyelashes beat that black man within an inch of his
life
!”
“Bianca.” I stopped everything. “Give me back my taser gun and quit with the weight
lifting.”
“Give it to her, Bianca,” Bradley said.
Her eyelashes quivered at me, then at Bradley, the one below her left eye losing ground
and headed south. “Why is everyone calling me Bianca?” she wailed. “When did I give
any
of you permission to call me Bianca?”
Bradley didn’t get anywhere near under the tree to rescue the cat when he let out
a yelp and was right back out. I whipped my head around to see a bright line of blood
beading a diagonal line across his cheek. He didn’t find the cat, but the cat sure
found him.
“Back,” I said. “Trade again. At least the cat isn’t trying to kill me.”
Fantasy had a black boot on Miles Davenport’s bloody, busted up ear, an itchy gun
on him, and she was posed, with her foot on his head, as if she’d reached Mount Everest.
Miles Davenport, from under her boot, still bound to the chair and in the floor, had
the fear of God in his eyes. Just like Monday, when I’d first seen him in the elevator,
but this time he meant it.
“You know the difference between me and you, buddy?” He trembled. “I have faith. That’s
why I’m standing here with a gun on you and you’ve had your ass kicked on the way
to prison. You have no faith. You should work on that.”
The cat let out a war cry and I dove under the tree again, this time from a different
approach. I was finally close enough to reach it when Bianca stopped traffic again.
“Someone get me a drink. You with the black eyes and broken nose. You’re not busy.
Get me a drink. Anything with alcohol in it. I’m exhausted with sobriety. David, climb
down from that tree and get me a drink. Someone get me a drink.”
“No!” From behind me, Dr. Paisley spoke up. “No, Bianca. You can’t drink. You’re pregnant.”
The room grew deathly quiet, the cat and I blinked at each other, and the silence
wasn’t broken until Bianca passed out cold onto the floor.
I swallowed. Hard.
“Cat?” The cat stared at me with huge, sad, unblinking eyes. It looked up to the sock
nest, whimpered, then back at me. “Show me, cat,” I whispered. “Show me.”
The noise all around me was that of Bianca being administered to.
“Who knocked Biacath upth?”
“Bianca. It’s me. Dr. Paisley.” Slap slap. “Someone get her water.” Slap slap. “Can
you hear me?”
“Davis! What in hell did you do to this kitchen?” (No Hair.)
“I’m what? I’m
what
?”
She’s back.
“My weight gain! This is my weight gain! David! Where is David? I’m with child! Where
is Richard? Where is my husband? David!”
Laughter cut through the tree branches. Fantasy. “Oh, my God! Bianca! You’re pregnant.
You’re going to have a baby!”
“Everyone stop calling me Bianca!”
Fantasy tapped Miles Davenport’s busted ear with her boot. “See there? Life goes on.”
I would have so enjoyed every bit of this had I not been in the tree with the cat.
“How could I be
pregnant
? Does Richard know? David, get Richard on the phone this minute.”
“How olth are you, Biancath?”
“Shut your mouth, young man, or I’ll shut it for you.”
“SHE WILL ZAP YOU!”
I’d forgotten Sears. I poked my head out of the tree and found him. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine, Mrs. Cole.” He dabbed a wet magnolia hand towel around his injured
face. “But we need to talk about my wages. I might need hazard duty pay.”
“Sears,” Cat pawed my hand. No claws, it just wanted me back under the tree. “Go out
the front door, take a left, and keep going until you reach the Leno suite. Knock
on the door and tell the man staying there we need him. His name is Conner. Tell him
we have his cat.”
“You got it, Mrs. Cole.”
The cat mewled at me and swiped the fake grass around the base of the tree. No more
crying. I was finally where it wanted me. I inched my hands along the shredded raffia
sprayed green to imitate grass, the cat’s eyes on mine the whole time. It wanted me
to help it dig in the grass. The cat begged me to help dig in the grass.
I felt my husband’s warmth beside me. “Davis?”
“Bradley. Check the tree. Look in the sock bed the cat built.”
He stayed beside me and said, “Baylor. Get up there and see what’s in the tree.”
“Here.” My fingers were past the grass. I passed Bradley a banded stack of one hundred
dollar bills. Then another. Then another. Then four more, then ten more, the cat quietly
mewling the whole time. The room grew silent as I continued to pass money to Bradley.
I kept my eyes on the cat’s, and each time I pulled my arm away and held it out, my
hand emptied a second later. I dug a money hole large enough for the cat to stick
its head in, which it did, and cried. It raised its face and swatted at the hole,
but it still couldn’t get to what it wanted. I climbed farther into the cast iron
tub that surely held millions upon millions of dollars until I found what the cat
had been looking for. I cradled it in my hands and brought it out as gently as I could.
It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. The cat latched itself onto my arm
and came out from the tree with me. The newborn kitten was solid white, with a dot
of a pink nose and tiny pink eyelids. The cat crawled between my arms and cradled
hands and began rubbing and warming the kitten with its smashed face.
From the sock bed above I heard, “Kittenths. Thwee kittenths.”
From the open door behind I heard, “Princess Puffle Paws! Princess Puffle Paws! It’s
Daddy! It’s your daddy!”
(Princess Puffle Paws? Really?)
I rocked back and my husband’s strong arms caught me and eased me into a sitting position,
money all around me, holding a mother cat in my lap and a baby kitten in my cupped
hands. The room and everyone in it finally stilled. It was one of the most beautiful
and peaceful moments I’ve ever known in my life. Until Bianca opened her mouth.
“David, you’ll be the face of my pregnancy.”
And how am I supposed to pull
that
off?
About the Author
Gretchen Archer is a Tennessee housewife who began writing when her daughters, seeking
higher educations, ran off and left her. She lives on Lookout Mountain with her husband,
son, and a Yorkie named Bently.
Double Whammy
, her first Davis Way Crime Caper, was a Daphne du Maurier Award finalist and hit
the USA TODAY Bestsellers List.
Double Mint
is the fourth Davis Way crime caper. You can visit her at www.gretchenarcher.com.
About Bently
Bently Yarnell is a Lookout Mountain Yorkshire Terrier. He loves barking, sleeping
late, and going bye-bye. He’s a graduate of Woof Woof Obedience School and his favorite
treat is Beggin’ Littles.
In Case You Missed the 1
st
Book in the Series
DOUBLE WHAMMY
Gretchen Archer
A Davis Way Crime Caper (#1)
Davis Way thinks she’s hit the jackpot when she lands a job as the fifth wheel on
an elite security team at the fabulous Bellissimo Resort and Casino in Biloxi, Mississippi.
But once there, she runs straight into her ex-ex husband, a rigged slot machine, her
evil twin, and a trail of dead bodies. Davis learns the truth and it does not set
her free—in fact, it lands her in the pokey.
Buried under a mistaken identity, unable to seek help from her family, her hot streak
runs cold until her landlord Bradley Cole steps in. Make that her landlord, lawyer,
and love interest. With his help, Davis must win this high stakes game before her
luck runs out.
Read all about it and/or grab the book for your Nook
Don’t Miss the 2
nd
Book in the Series
DOUBLE DIP
Gretchen Archer
A Davis Way Crime Caper (#2)
Davis Way’s beginner’s luck may have run out. Her professional life is dicey and she’s
on a losing streak at home. She can’t find her gun, her evil twin’s personal assistant
has disappeared, Bellissimo’s Master of Ceremonies won’t leave her alone, and her
boyfriend Bradley Cole thinks three’s a crowd.
Meanwhile, she’s following a slot tournament trail that leads to Beehive, Alabama,
where the So Help Me God Pentecostal Church is swallowing up Bellissimo’s high rollers.
The worst? Davis doesn’t feel so hot. It could be the banana pudding, but it might
be the pending pitter patter of little feet.
DOUBLE DIP is a reckless ride in the fast lane, and Davis Way can’t find the brakes.
Read all about it and/or grab the book for your Nook
