Hijack in Abstract (A Cherry Tucker Mystery) (22 page)

Couldn’t hurt to bring the fuzz down on the SipNZip. Maybe Max would take notice.

And maybe I needed to learn more about the Bear. There was too much mystery surrounding that animal.

Twenty-Eight

The next
morning, I shot awake, partially because Casey’s foot was embedded in my armpit, but mainly from an overwhelming sense of dread I’d forgotten something important. I climbed over Casey, stepped over Todd’s snoring form on the floor, and tripped over a gym bag left in the hall by Cody. As I brushed my teeth, I examined the anxiety squeezing my nerves and realized it stemmed from the unresolved mess left by the hijacking.

According to Luke and Max’s hints, the Sheriff’s Office had apparently moved on from their investigation into something grander than the death of a truck driver and a two-bit junkie copper thief.

Jerell had been swept from his family. Miss Gladys now lived alone and unprotected in something akin to a cardboard box. I had failed them. I had spent the greater part of my week trying to clear my own name when something more significant was at stake than local petty prejudice.

I spat toothpaste in my Pepto-pink sink, stared at the blond frizz flying around my head, and thought hard. Which didn’t work. At the kitchen table, I pushed aside Miss Wanda’s poster art and tossed down a small pad of newsprint and a Berol number three. I doodled a Dixie Cake truck, a handgun, and a driver who was not the real driver. Next, I drew a circle of copper wire, the small pipe of a meth user, and a cracker box trailer. Why had Tyrone decided to steal wire in a spot where truckers slept and minivans stopped for tee-tee breaks? Why had the robbery happened at a spot unusual for hijacks? Was Tyrone supposed to meet his dealer at the rest stop?

Lord help me, but I didn’t want to speak to any Sweetgum tweakers. If Tyrone’s death didn’t have anything to do with the hijacking, or the “bigger than the hijacking” crime, his murder might never get solved. I put aside thoughts of the Sweetgum mafia and thought about how Max could be tied to the hijacking.

I tapped my pencil and drew the SipNZip logo and a cranky bear. Did the police’s interest in Max relate to the truck hold up? Why did Max try to hide his ownership? Why were all the employees foreign and living together in an apartment?

Why did I care?

Finally, I drew a little hatchback. That particular vehicle stumped me. While Luke watched Max, who watched me? I sketched Shawna’s face next to the car, then added horns and a mustache.

I heard a shuffle of feet, looked up, and found Todd standing in the kitchen entrance watching me. He wore plaid pajama pants and had slipped a soft gray t-shirt over his sculpted body. I wasn’t sure if I should feel thankful or deprived for his coverage.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Trying to understand what’s going on,” I said. “The government has intervened. Jerell has been placed in foster care. Miss Gladys is sucking on oxygen all by her lonesome. She needs full time care and her main source of income is dead. Never mind that source of income came from larceny and illegal drugs. Miss Gladys is still living in a cardboard box surrounded by cookers and crankers and barely strong enough to heat a can of soup.”

“What are you going to do?” Todd slipped into the chair next to me and examined my drawings.

“Now that Shawna has muddied my name, no one will listen to me. At least Leah’s asking the churches to help Miss Gladys. I can’t find Shawna’s photos. And it doesn’t look like Mr. Max is going to help us. I’m sorry you’ve been dragged into this.”

“I like being your muse,” he smiled and drew a happy face on my pad. “It looks like you’re figuring more than a charity call. Your bear wants to rip apart the SipNZip.”

I studied my drawing. “You’re right, Todd. Why does the Bear hate the SipNZip? It must turn a good profit. There’s barely any employees.”

“The overhead is cheap, too.”

I studied Todd’s face bent over the paper as he drew a dollar sign. “What do you mean?”

“When I went there to apply, I went around back to watch them unload a truck. You know, that used to be my job.”

“I know, honey,” I said and squeezed his hand. “You’ll get rehired as soon as the economy picks up.”

“Anyway, they were bringing in cases of stock from the back of a U-Haul.”

“What does that mean?”

“I was only a brown box, front door delivery guy. But generally, stores get their stock delivery from company trucks. You’ve seen the commercial where the beer truck drives up to the store and everyone cheers? At the SipNZip, two guys were unloading boxes of beer from a U-Haul.” Todd drew a big U on my sketch pad. “Something’s wrong with that.”

I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Todd, you’re brilliant. I don’t know why you try and hide it. You need to call Uncle Will and tell him what you saw.”

“I’m pretty sure he knows. Deputy Chris Wellington watched them from his pickup. Like he was doing the plainclothes detective thing.”

“Hot damn,” I slipped from the chair, avoiding Todd’s reach for another kiss. “That’s why the cops are watching Mr. Max.”

“Probably why Mr. Max doesn’t want me working there, too.” Todd strummed the table surface, tapping out a happy rhythm.

“You are right again. Max is protecting you.” I felt so energized, I didn’t bother to stop Todd’s annoying drumming. “And me. He wants me to stay away from him in order to protect me.”

I ran to the door to grab my boots. “Can I borrow your car? You want to tag along?”

“Sure, baby,” said Todd. “Where are you going?”

“The Gearjammer doesn’t open until later and the Sweetgum meth-heads are likely still asleep. My first stop today is Atlanta. Rupert was Max’s immigration lawyer. I bet he’s got a file on Max that will tell me something. Max is somehow tied to this hijacking. All this interest in him and the SipNZip didn’t start until that truck was robbed. If I can’t do anything else for Miss Gladys, I can tell her who killed Tyrone so she can sue them.”

“She doesn’t care about the killer going to jail?”

“Prison justice is for folks with money. People like Miss Gladys would rather use the court system for economic retribution.”

“You think Mr. Max did this?” asked Todd. “I like Mr. Max. I can’t see him robbing a truck or killing anyone. Although I wouldn’t want to mess with him.”

“I agree, Todd. The Bear is a dangerous beast, although his criminal activity seems to be contained to cheating at cards and rigging roulette wheels. Rupert mentioned Max worked for a casino in his younger days. Vice tends to flow to other realms. I hope this is not the case.”

“If they are stocking the SipNZip with jacked goods, Max is going to prison for a long time,” said Todd. “What if he doesn’t know they’re doing it?”

“Dammit.” I yanked on a boot. “Am I going to have to help the Bear, too? I swear I don’t know why I care so much, Todd. It’s not like I’m accumulating any accolades around here.”

“I’ll clap for you, baby,” Todd said and winked. “But I’d rather kiss you instead.”

At Rupert
’s Buckhead McMansion, Todd rang the doorbell. He glanced at me, a smile curling his soft lips.

Todd’s fondness for adventure almost outweighed his fondness for performing in tight, faux-leather pants. Playing poker gave him a similar adrenaline rush. Todd didn’t need drugs. His body made his own.

Maybe we should offer this wisdom to the Sweetgum crew.

“I forgot to ask you how your set went last night,” I said. “I had some trouble with a vehicle following me.”

“That silver hatchback you mentioned?” asked Todd. “I haven’t seen it, but I think Casey mentioned seeing one yesterday.”

“Dammit,” I said, then closed my mouth as the door swung open.

Miss David wore a pale blush velour yoga set. Her impassive expression barely registered the shock of seeing me, but wavered a bit upon taking in the hunk that is Todd.

“You are the model for the classical paintings,” she said to Todd. “Amazing.”

“So you’re not a robot,” I said. “I was beginning to wonder. Mind if we come in?”

“I don’t believe Rupert needed you today,” she said, but stepped aside to allow us entrance. She gave my cutoffs and Daytona Beach t-shirt a sneer. I supposed she didn’t care for stock cars and dolphins.

“You have come all this way for nothing.”

“We were in the area. Todd wanted to see where his paintings hung,” I said, hiding my crossed fingers behind my satchel.

“I’ve never seen myself hanging on a real wall before,” said Todd.

Miss David’s lower lip dropped. She closed it quickly. “Of course.”

“Is Mr. Rupert in?” I pointed down the hall. “I left my tackle in his office and need it for another project.”

“Not now. Shall I fetch the box for you?”

“Don’t bother, I’ll go grab it,” I said. “You go along and show Todd the paintings. He’ll enjoy that.”

I waited until they entered the red room and closed the French doors. Running down the hall, I flung open the door to the office and snagged my supply box from its spot near the Christmas tree.

I tore back down the hall, dropped my tackle box on the floor, and cracked the door to Miss David’s office. I headed immediately past her desk to the file cabinet, opened the first drawer, and began leafing through folders. Avtaikin popped out quickly, and I blessed Max for his convenient initial. Grabbing the folder, I shoved it in my satchel and scooted out of the room. I pulled the door closed and reached to snatch my tackle box from the floor. As I straightened, I found Miss David watching me from the doorway to the red room.

“Find everything you need?” she asked.

“Yep,” I said. “Where’s Todd?”

“Here I am,” he said, slipping around Miss David. “I noticed the frame was crooked and while I straightened it, Miss David disappeared on me.”

“I thought I heard something,” she said, studying me.

“I think I hear something, too,” I said. The growl of a car engine grew louder. I peered through the bracketing on the front door’s adjacent window. The town car zipped around the donut toward the rear garage. “That’s Nik. What happened to him last night?”

“Don’t know,” said Todd.

“Let’s find out.” I didn’t like the way Miss David eyed me. Any woman who wouldn’t stay to watch Todd’s backside stretch over a sofa to adjust a painting had something wrong with her.

We hustled out the front door and walked down the drive to the rear garage. With a cigarette dangling from his mouth, Nik wiped the car down with a wet rag. Seeing Todd and I, he dropped the cloth and took a deep drag before pulling the cigarette from his mouth.

“You have ruined my life,” he said.

“How’s that?” I halted my gait toward the garage.

“Your sister.”

I nodded. Casey was the boll weevil to the cotton hearts of men. There was no hope of recovery once she struck. “Sorry about that.”

Todd placed a hand on my shoulder. “Too bad, man.”

I twitched off Todd’s hand. “It’s our momma’s fault. I advise you to move on quickly.”

Staring at the sky, Nik sucked on the stub of his cigarette and blew a tendril of smoke toward the clouds. “‘Like a spirit of the purest beauty. In the torture of hopeless melancholy,’” he quoted. “Pushkin.”

“Lord help him,” I said to Todd. “Let’s get out of here before he pulls out a bottle of vodka and starts singing.”

Nik nodded. “Leave me to my pain.”

“Maybe you can focus your pain on rebuilding my truck.”

I pulled on Todd’s hand to reverse our walk to the front of the house. “I picked up some interesting materials. I’m going to read to you on the way home.”

“I liked Nik’s poem,” said Todd.

“It’s better than a poem. It’s background information on the Bear.”