The Good Die Twice (26 page)

“I doubt you checked thoroughly, Sheila. You
can’t check just any records. I think you have to go to the Bureau
of Indian Affairs or the Interior Department.” His mind raced,
thinking of how to divert her attention. He flipped through his
notes looking for Worm’s phone number. “I have another call,
Sheila. As usual, you haven’t done your homework.” He ended the
call, pulled his legs off the desk and dialed Worm’s number.

“Now is a good time to call Sheila and give
her your notice if you haven’t already done so.” Dagger thought
Sheila could be kept busy pacing her father’s office whining about
Worm quitting and then having to find a replacement for him.

Next, Dagger called Skizzy who was feeling
better and bragging about how he had been able to hold his own
against the two thugs that beat him up. He agreed to prepare a
forged title and bury it in the bureaucratic system somewhere along
with a will signed by Sara’s grandmother.

He turned from his desk and saw Sara standing
by the bar. “She’s going to try to do it, isn’t she?” She tilted
her head, a defiant look in her eyes spelling trouble. Sara was
ready to do battle.

“I took care of it, Sara.”

She didn’t seem convinced and wouldn’t be
until she had the actual papers in her hand.

“I’m sorry I didn’t take you seriously
before. Forgive me?” Dagger fingered the sterling silver wolf
pendant hanging from the leather cord around his neck.

“She has money and connections.”

“I know. It will be okay, Sara. I
promise.”

She nodded and slipped around the corner into
the kitchen.

Dagger no sooner poured himself a cup of
black coffee, then Simon showed up.

“You’re going to have to talk to him,” Simon
said. “Skizzy has got damn plywood nailed to the windows.”

“If it makes him feel safe.”

“Safe, hell, he may as well put a Count
Dracula coffin in the back room the place is so dark.” Simon’s eyes
brightened as he saw Sara enter the room in a yellow floral
sundress. “My, aren’t you a breath of sunshine.”

Since Dagger had ended his phone call with
Sheila, Sara felt it was safe to let Einstein out of the aviary. He
immediately flew over to the doorway and whistled.

“WHAT A BODY. AWWWKK.”

Dagger yelled, “Hey, watch your beak.”

Sara laughed and told Einstein. “Aren’t you
the fresh one.” She offered Einstein some broccoli and then
returned to the kitchen.

Cocking his head toward Einstein, Simon said,
“Does the bird have good taste or is he hearing you talk in your
sleep?”

Dagger snapped the morning paper open and
took a quick glance toward the doorway to the kitchen. “Don’t
start. Einstein just has good taste.”

“Uh huh. Then why take a lookie-see to where
that sweet young thing is?”

“Because I never know what foul thing is
going to come spilling out of your mouth.” Dagger buried his face
in the papers but thought back to Sara’s nude body twirling in the
moonlight.

“AWK, WHAT A BODY, WHAT A BODY.” Einstein
clamped onto the grated door and hung upside down.

The leather cushions hissed as Simon settled
onto the couch. He chuckled and said, “You’re going to have to
teach Einstein a new word or in a few months when you and that
sweet thing are knockin’ boots he’s going to be screaming, ‘Oh
Dagger, please!’”

Dagger snapped his paper again and glared at
Simon.

“Don’t give me that look,” Simon scolded.
“I’ve been there. You’re trying to convince yourself she’s just a
child. Pretty soon, you be dreamin’ about her. Dreams so vivid they
keep you up nights.”

“You know, Simon.” Dagger stood up. “I don’t
want you to spend too much time here.”

Simon chuckled again. “What’s the matter? Am
I getting a little too close to the truth?” Simon stood and arched
his back, dipping left then right. “You need a more comfortable
couch,” he mumbled.

“Are you leaving, Simon?” Sara asked.

“I was just trying to tell Simon that it
isn’t safe for him or anyone to spend that much time around me. I
don’t want anyone else to end up like Skizzy.”

“My appearance as a worn-out, flabby postal
carrier is just my cover up. Nobody messes with Simon the
Terrible.” Simon laughed heartily.

“COMPANY, COMPANY, AWWK.” Einstein flew over
to the monitor and pushed the Entry Key to open the outside
gate.

Dagger grabbed the macaw and cradled him in
his arms. “So that’s how those guys got in the other night.”

“I can’t believe it,” Sara laughed. She
checked the face on the monitor. “It’s Worm,” she announced. “He’s
going to fill us in on his investigation.” She ran to the kitchen
to wait for their visitor.

“Someone else who needs to keep his distance
from me.”

Simon said, “You need to keep an eye on that
little lady.”

“Trust me. Sara is capable of taking care of
herself.”

Simon leaned in close and whispered, “That
won’t stop them from trying.”

CHAPTER 42

“Wow.” Worm removed his glasses to look
closer at the picture of Rachel taken at the medical examiner’s
office. “What a shame. She was so beautiful.”

“The killers were careful. Crime Lab wasn’t
able to lift any prints from either the freezer or the townhouse
where we believe the murder took place.” Dagger passed additional
pictures to Worm. “Padre has agreed to talk to you about the
investigation.” Dagger did a slow inspection of Worm’s clothes. “Is
Sheila picking out your clothes these days?” Worm was wearing a
pale yellow shirt and white linen sportscoat.

Worm’s face reddened. “Looks terrible,
doesn’t it?”

“It looks…summery,” Sara offered. “Don’t
listen to Dagger. Everything in his closet is black and gray.”

Dagger looked down at his own black Dockers.
“I only say that because that’s the first thing Sheila did was drag
me through the malls. When I would refuse to try on clothes, she
would buy them and present them like some offering. I always
returned them.”

“Well, she won’t have me to kick around any
more. I called her and quit, like you suggested.”

“How did she take it?” Dagger took a peek in
the aviary. Einstein was napping so Dagger pulled both doors
closed.

“First she was pissed royally. Then she went
on and on about how I would never get another job in this town if
she had anything to do with it.”

Sara asked, “Can she do that?”

“She can try, but Worm will have his
exclusive and every paper in the country will be clamoring for his
services.” Dagger handed Worm some photographs.

“More pictures of Rachel?”

“No.” Dagger sat on the armrest, one foot
braced on the coffee table. “Those are composite pictures of Edie
Tyler with blonde hair. It only proves she was the friend in
Rachel’s vacation pictures.” Dagger checked his watch. “You have an
appointment with Padre at two o’clock; and J.C. Kinnecutt, the
curator for the Argyle Museum is in town. I’m going to see if he
can meet with you at four o’clock.”

“Really?” Worm bubbled. “I can’t thank you
enough.” He smoothed a hand over the top of his bristly hair but
the hairs popped right back up. “You actually have the curator here
in the states?”

“Yes, but don’t be surprised if he’s
reluctant to talk. He seemed to be embarrassed by the whole ordeal
and is pretty worried about keeping his job.” Dagger pointed to a
stack of papers. “You’ll find a color picture of the Williamsburg
Collection somewhere in that pile.”

Worm dragged papers from his briefcase. “I
got a lot of information on moissanite from the Internet. It was
discovered in a meteorite in the 1800s by Henri Moissan.”

“How fascinating,” Sara said. She stood
behind the couch looking over Worm’s shoulder.

“And,” Worm continued, “its properties are
the closest thing to diamonds yet it’s about ten percent the cost
of diamonds. They started producing laboratory stones in 1995 but
they haven’t started to pop up in the market until recently.”

Dagger leaned back, his eyes gazing up at the
catwalk. “So the public and the jewelry stores didn’t know until
recently that moissanites were available?”

“But they do make them in a lab,” Sara
said.

Worm peered over his shoulder at her. “Yes.
They are available in yellow, blue, black, gray, and dark green.
But the colorless stones are the most popular.”

Sara’s brows knitted. “They don’t make pink
ones?”

Sheila threw open the door to her father’s
office and was pummeled by plumes of foul-smelling cigar smoke. She
waved her hands frantically in an attempt to find a patch of
unpolluted air to inhale.

“Daddy, you never answered my phone call
about Worm. What do I do for an assistant now?”

“Close the door!” Leyton paced the length of
his wall of bookcases, leaving a trail of smoke behind him. “I have
more pressing matters right now.”

“But, Daddy.”

“Sit.”

Sheila checked her watch. Whenever her father
was on the warpath she was usually his sounding board. He didn’t
need a hatchet man. That was normally his expertise and he wielded
the hatchet with glee.

“Look at these,” he mumbled from behind his
clenched cigar. He handed Sheila several letters.

She perused them quickly as he rambled about
suing the bastard if he ever found out who did it.

“Daddy, these are thank-you letters. What’s
the problem?”

He stripped off his suit jacket, revealing
sweat stains under his armpits. His beefy arms were sunburned from
last weekend’s golf outing. His face was as red as his arms and it
wasn’t all from the sun.

“Oh, really? Two hundred thousand dollars to
the Native American College Fund, another two hundred thousand to
the United Negro College Fund, and,” he picked up one of the
letters and heaved it across the room, “a lousy hundred thousand
bucks to the Legal Fund for Native American Fishing Rights.”

“Well, considering how you feel about all
those groups, I have to admit I’m surprised.”

Leyton plucked the cigar from his mouth. “I
didn’t write the damn checks. Someone forged my signature.”

“What?” Sheila blinked quickly. “And you
think I did it?”

“No, of course not. But what am I going to
do? There are press releases going out expounding my benevolent
virtues. And me,” he jabbed a chubby finger at his chest, “the
newly elected president of the Great Lakes Fishing Rights
Association.”

“So someone stole your checkbook?”

He pulled a ledger of checks from his safe.
“Look. Every damn check is there. Someone literally forged the
check design, the paper, and actually numbered them. I checked with
the bank. They gave me the check numbers.” He fanned through the
blank checks. “They are all here. The sneaky sonofabitch picked
some random numbers and forged my signature.”

Sheila suddenly started to calculate the
dollars. “Daddy, that’s half a million dollars!”

“No fuckin’ shit.”

“Well, stop payment, do something!”

“And how is that going to look in the
papers?”

Sheila bolted out of her chair and reached
for the phone. “Did you call our family attorney?”

“Put the phone down.” He checked his cigar,
which had run out of steam. He tossed the slimy stub into the
ashtray. “I already checked with Nathan. He closed out the checking
account so no other checks can be cashed. And he said the best I
can do is resign my newly elected office. But that would be far too
embarrassing.”

Sheila paced, her three-inch heels grinding
into the carpeting as she pivoted, her floral neck scarf trailing
behind. This was her specialty—troubleshooting—and the one talent
she knew her father respected in her completely. She looked pensive
with one arm across her waist, a fist thrust under her chin, one
long painted nail anchored between her teeth.

Sheila’s eyes brightened as she snapped her
fingers. “I’ve got it. You release a statement that you were the
victim of an activist group who forged stolen checks. Don’t mention
anything about what a racist pig you are.” She smiled sweetly
playing Daddy’s Girl to the hilt. “Everyone who knows you knows
your feelings. Instead, just disclose that an investigation is
ongoing and this was a cruel and practical joke. However,” Sheila
added as she grabbed a pad of paper and wrote down notes, “it would
be far too cruel for even you to demand that the donations be
returned. In lieu of this unfortunate event, you are donating,” she
glanced at her father as he dabbed perspiration from his forehead,
“and you are going to have to do this, Daddy,” she continued, “you
are donating an additional two hundred thousand dollars to the
Great Lakes Fishing Rights Association. This way you don’t look
cold-hearted by stopping payment on the checks and you appease your
fellow GLFR members by tossing them more money.”

She placed her notes down and waited.

Leyton sank into his chair and expelled a
long, heavy sigh. After several moments he nodded in agreement.
“You are right, as always. That is really my only out. But if I
ever find out who did this, he’s going to wish he had never been
born.”

CHAPTER 43

“Daddy is just furious,” Sheila cried. She
dabbed a tissue at the corner of each eye and sank onto a bar
stool. “And then Worm quit and I just can’t do all the work on my
own. And then, and then...” she stammered, wiping her eyes again,
“I find out I can’t get this property for you like I promised.”

Dagger checked his watch. The last thing he
needed on his doorstep was Sheila Monroe, especially when he was
expecting Padre.

“I told you it’s difficult touching
reservation land.”

At the sound of Sheila’s voice, Einstein flew
over to the desk screeching, “WICKED WITCH, WICKED WITCH,
AWWK.”

Sara rushed in from the kitchen to see what
the commotion was about.

“I would like some coffee.” Sheila held up a
finger only to be met with a blank stare.