Harley Rushes In (Book 2 of the Blue Suede Mysteries) (25 page)

Maybe it was grudging, but Anna invited her inside where it was cooler. And goose-free. The trailer interior was surprisingly nice, with a huge plasma TV on one wall, state of the art sound equipment, expensive leather furniture, and what looked like new carpet. It was at odds with the very nature of the dwelling and general air of shabbiness, but maybe that was the point. Who’d ever think there was anything worth stealing in here?

“Nice,” she said, and Anna nodded.

“When my husband died, he left an insurance policy.”

“Your husband’s death must have been recent.”

“Yes. Are you here to talk about me or Frieda?”

“Well, in a way, both of you. I’m just wondering what you can tell me about your sister. It may have a bearing on what’s happened.”

“Look, I can tell you about what we did in third grade, but that’s not going to be of much use to you now. I haven’t kept up with her in the past few years. So how is Frieda in danger?”

“Someone killed her business partner, Harry Gordon, and if Frieda knows too much, she may be next.” That was subtle, she thought, without accusing Frieda of killing Harry. “Do you know where Frieda might be staying? And why she’d be using her sister’s name instead of her own?”

Anna looked distraught. “Harry . . . Harry Gordon’s dead? Are you sure?”

“Yes. Don’t you get the papers? Or watch the local news?”

“I . . . I’ve been out of town and unavailable. I just got back a few hours ago. No one’s told me anything. When . . . how did it happen?”

“This past Thursday. He was shot.” She tactfully left out the part about Harry hanging on an elk horn and how her aunt was a suspect in his murder, or that Frieda blamed Darcy. Some things were best left unsaid.

“No . . . no one called me.” Anna stood up suddenly, wringing her hands. “I had no idea. And I haven’t talked to my sister in a while. Months. Why would anyone kill Harry—her partner?”

“Well, the police seem to think it has something to do with his business dealings. And since your sister was in business with him, whoever killed him may want to kill her as well.”

Anna had turned toward the window that looked out over empty fields and a wooded tract behind the trailer. She shook her head. “I don’t know of anyone who’d want to kill either of them. I haven’t been in contact with them lately.”

Them?
Harley frowned. “Did you know Harry Gordon well?”

“No. I never met Harry Gordon.” She turned back to face Harley. “I only know of him through Frieda. She first met him in St. Louis.”

“Did she work with him in Cincinnati, too?”

Anna hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. There was some kind of trouble with the owner of the antiques business not paying his taxes or whatever and he went to jail, so Frieda went to work for Harry.”

“And she came to Memphis with him?”

“Is that a crime?”

“Not unless he violated the Mann Act and took a minor over state lines, and Frieda’s well over eighteen, I presume. So who else was in business with them? Anyone named Julio?”

“Are you a cop?”

“Good lord, no.”

“Then do you mind telling me why you’re asking all these questions? I thought you were going to tell me why Frieda’s in danger.”

“Well, I’m trying to figure that out myself. See, two of the guys she worked with are dead and now no one can find her. I figure she’s hiding because she knows they’re after her, too.”

“They who?”

“The smugglers. Harry’s partners. Or I should say, former partners. That has to be who killed Harry and Julio. If Cheríe—Frieda—knows anything at all, they’re looking for her.”

Anna went pale, and her hands shook. “I don’t know where she is. I haven’t seen her.”

“So you don’t know the people who were working with them, or exactly what kinds of business dealings were involved?”

Anna waved one hand, her gaze moving past Harley toward the plasma TV on the wall. “I only know that they traveled a lot and brought back exotic antiques. Ivory, fur rugs, things like that. She used to give me things.”

“ Like that box on the table over there?”

Anna turned to look. A small white box about the size of a candy sampler sat on the kitchen table. Long, skinny dragons were carved on the top and sides, looping together.

“Yes,” she said after a moment. “Frieda gave me that.”

“Do you mind if I look at it? It’s very pretty.”

“Well . . . I suppose there’s no harm.” Rather grudgingly, Anna brought over the white box and held it out to Harley. “Be careful. It seems fragile.”

Harley held it in both hands. It was quite pretty and surprisingly light. It looked much heavier. The bone was dense but porous. No machine had carved out these dragons and loops. It must be antique; she was no dealer and wouldn’t know a new piece of ivory from an old one, but she could tell it was worth a lot of money. And it looked familiar, though she couldn’t remember where she’d seen one like it before.

“Your sister is quite generous,” she said, toying with the clasp of the locked box. “You two must be very close.”

Anna held out her hand for the box. “Not really,” she said rather coldly. “We don’t see one another often enough for that.”

As Harley handed it back to Anna, she said, “Don’t you ever worry about anyone breaking in here, stealing things like this?”

Anna shrugged. “If anyone breaks in here, the last thing they’ll be looking for is that box. I’ve got too much expensive electronic equipment for them to waste their time on that.”

“Maybe so, but an alarm system might come in handy. Not that Gladys isn’t formidable all by herself, but you never know what might happen.”

“That’s right,” Anna said, “you just never know. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve still got to unpack. You know how it is when you’ve been away.”

“Sure,” Harley said. “Here’s my business card if you hear from Frieda.” She held out a Memphis Tour Tyme card with her name and number on it, and Anna took it grudgingly.

She wouldn’t call, and no doubt the card would go into the trash the minute Harley got out of the driveway, but Harley suddenly remembered where she’d seen that ivory box. It had arrived the day she met Harry Gordon, and he’d taken it from her and gone into the shop with it. Now Frieda’s sister had it, when Anna claimed she hadn’t seen Frieda in months. Since Anna had been out of town, Frieda must have brought it here. Harry wouldn’t have had time, not if he was busy stowing away priceless artifacts and being murdered, so Frieda had to have left it here. But when? Before or after Julio’s and Harry’s murders? And why bring it here at all? Of all the things smuggled in, why this one box carved with Celtic dragons? That small bone box just might hold a clue as to why Harry had been killed. And once they found out who had killed Harry, they’d find Julio’s murderer as well.

Both men had been killed on the same day in the same place with the same weapon, so it had to be the same killer. And thieves fell out all the time. So Frieda Plotz a.k.a. Cheríe Saucier had just as much if not more motive to kill Harry than Darcy. Now all she had to do was convince Bobby of that.

Piece of cake.

“No.” Bobby looked unfriendly. His dark eyes narrowed to slits and his mouth set in a straight line that usually meant trouble for someone. Harley hoped it wasn’t her.

Leaning over his desk, she tried again. “Come on, Bobby. At least investigate her. If I’ve come up with all this info on my own, just think what you could do.”

“That’s another thing. How the hell are you finding out this stuff so quickly? Is someone in my department feeding you info they shouldn’t be?”

“Don’t be silly. You’re the only one I know in your department. Except for Officer Delisi, but I don’t think he likes me very much. He’s still holding a grudge since the King incident.”

“
I’m
still holding a grudge since the King incident. Where are you getting your info?”

Harley smiled. “I’m not talking. I’m like a reporter. I can’t divulge my sources.”

“You’re ‘not talking’ yourself right into jail time.”

“But I’m not doing anything illegal. Don’t be so grumpy. You’re not at all cooperative these days. Trouble at home? Love life gone bad?”

“Shut up.” Bobby leaned back in his chair and locked his hands behind his head. He had dark brown eyes that could be warm with humor or black with anger, and right now they were somewhere between those two shades. This conversation could go either way quickly.

“I think Cami’s avoiding me,” she said. “She hasn’t answered any of my calls today.”

“It’s about time one of you showed some good sense.”

“I kinda thought you might have something to do with that. Did you tell her to avoid me?”

“Since when has any woman ever paid attention to anything a man ever says? That’d be like expecting the Mississippi to run backward.”

“It did once, you know,” Harley said reflectively. “Back in the early 1800s when there was an earthquake—oh, never mind. I see that doesn’t cheer you up.”

“Harley—and I say this in friendship—go away. While you still can. Before I have to arrest you on obstruction or any other charge that applies. Go home. Lock your doors, stay inside and don’t come out for any reason whatsoever.”

“But what about my stalker?”

“Apparently he has better sense than you do. He’s avoiding you.”

“But he was outside my apartment today. I saw him. Did you talk to Morgan?”

“Twice. He confirmed you were assaulted. Doesn’t that give you a hint that it’d be safer for you to stay home?”

“Where my stalker can get me? Please. He knows where I live. He followed us last night to the club and grabbed me in a public place. If he’s ballsy enough to do that, just think what he’d do if he caught me by myself.”

“Then stay with your parents.”

“You think I’ll be safer with
them?
”

Bobby grinned, and Harley felt a little better when he said, “Sorry. Temporary insanity. Diva would probably invite him in for herbal tea and a tarot reading.”

“Maybe she could cleanse his aura while she’s at it.”

“Some things just don’t change much. Okay. I see your point. But you’ve got to know it isn’t safe for you to be taking risks. Look, you can stay at my apartment if you want.”

“Is Angel still there?”

“No. Not as much.”

Aha. Trouble on the home front. Well, Bobby never stayed with one woman for very long. It was bound to end like all the others, with everything short of a restraining order being filed and lots of verbal fireworks. That good, hot Italian blood made for high drama at times. Exciting and exhausting.

“Maybe I should go stay with Cami for a night or two,” she said just to see what he’d say about Cami, but to her surprise he nodded.

“Yeah, that might be best. At least she’ll listen to reason.”

“Cami’s easily swayed. I’m sure I can convince her to cooperate. Now look, I’ve given you all this good information about Cheríe Saucier and Harry Gordon, and you won’t even follow up on it. Why won’t you get a warrant to search Anna Plotz Merritt’s house?”

“Dammit, Harley.” Bobby had been leaning back in his chair, balanced on the two rear legs, and now he abruptly leaned forward so that the chair slammed down with a loud smack. “If you hadn’t gone out there and meddled where you shouldn’t, we just might have been able to get enough evidence together to justify a search warrant. You don’t really think that box is still going to be there when we do get a warrant, do you? Not if it’s important. No doubt, Anna Merritt is on the phone right now with her sister, and they’re buying two airline tickets to Greece.”