The Hammett Hex (13 page)

“We have no idea. Mrs. Huddy doesn't know. It might be some kind of mistaken identity.”

“Huh. Well, I hope you're planning to get an alarm system.”

Smiley said, “You bet we are.”

I said nothing. There was almost no chance that the attack on me in the hotel, the push from the cable car and this bizarre home invasion were not connected, but how? And why? And what the—

The paramedic inclined her bright red head in the direction of Gram's room. “You can't let her stay here.”

Gram called out, “I'd like to see someone try and make me leave.”

Smiley grinned. “I told you she was stubborn.”

I said, “But Zoya does need to go to the hospital, no matter what she says.”

“No! No hospitals.” Zoya somehow had made it upstairs, but she was leaning against the walls and even I—no medical expert—could see that her pupils were dilated, the left more than the right.

The paramedic who'd followed her up the stairs said, “You need to be seen. You need a scan and a doctor.”

“I will stay here.”

Gram raised her voice and showed her steely side, not for the first time in this memorable day.

“Zoya, you will go to the hospital with the ambulance now. I will cover your costs and you will not refuse if you know what's good for you.”

Strangely, that did the trick.

*   *   *

IN THE END,
the police were brought up to speed, we were all relatively comfortable again and Smiley was deputized to accompany Zoya to the hospital. I'd volunteered,
but that got shot down. She had taken a strong dislike to me. That was okay. I was hardly crazy about her either, but she had definitely started it.

I was elected to stay with Gram until Zoya returned. I put clean sheets on the four-poster bed in the vast front room. I loved the feeling of the high-thread-count bed linen. Luxury.

Smiley poked his head in before they left and said, “Don't be brave. Just stay safe and keep Gram company. I'll be back as soon as possible. I'm used to emergency rooms. I'll talk it up. Don't investigate or snoop or try to be smart.”

“Smart? I have no idea what you mean.”

“Officer Martinez is still here. Let her know if there's any issue at all,” he said as he headed out with Zoya.

I stared around the room. “This is an amazing room. It must be thirty feet wide.”

“Yes, we knocked out the wall for William when he was ill, so he'd have a sitting room and space for visitors. He spent the last year of his life here. He loved the windows and he had two beautiful ones with a view of the street. That was his recliner. He loved that too. He kept all the family albums in their own special case. He enjoyed the old photos. All those albums and even a box of spares.”

“And do you like them?”

“Not so much. I like the ones of Tyler because he's dear to my heart. But there weren't many photos of my family. My parents left England in the nineteen thirties when my father's business went under. There were only a few pictures of them and a handful of me as a child. I was an only child too. And I have no idea about any relatives we left behind. No great ties there.”

“I have gaps in my history too,” I said, almost to myself.

She didn't seem to hear. “I suppose I should move in here permanently myself. Zoya thinks so, but I like to keep it as
it was when William was here. He made me truly happy and I love his memory. Now let's see, what can we do that will be fun?”

Gram was in unusually good spirits for someone who'd survived a violent break-in. “Nothing wrong with me at all,” she said with a gleam in her bright blue eyes. “Well, nothing that a G and T wouldn't fix.”

“Oh I don't think—”

“You're not here to think, my dear. You're here to look after me and keep me happy.”

“I believe I'm supposed to keep you safe.”

“I'll be safer with a gin and tonic. Now, hop to it. I'm not getting any younger. Supplies are in the butler's pantry. By all means, have one yourself.”

I headed downstairs to mix her drink. She seemed better than she'd been before the home invasion. Maybe the hits of adrenaline had been good for her. In fact, she hadn't been injured. As I recalled, she hadn't even been all that frightened. Unlike me.

We spent a few pleasant hours together, although breakfast and lunch had long worn off. Eventually, I decided to hunt for something we could have for an appropriate light meal after a home invasion. Nothing in the fridge or pantry called to me, maybe because everything was in the ingredient stage for dishes I didn't know how to cook. But in the freezer I found a box of ice cream sandwiches. Sandwiches are always soothing. I made a pot of tea in a pretty china teapot with a pink flower design and found some matching cups and saucers. Tea made for a bit of extra soothing. I put it all on one of the many trays stored in the kitchen and headed upstairs.

Gram and I had two ice cream sandwiches each and left a few for Tyler and Zoya. We enjoyed the treat and the pot of tea. They were the kind of comforting snacks that help after a trauma. I am pretty sure we both catnapped several
times in between long chats. The topic was usually how wonderful Tyler was and how much she still missed William. Occasionally, it veered into how glad she was to get to know me or how Zoya was really loyal and kind. There was still no sign of Smiley and the loyal Zoya, although the sun had now set.

Gram's eyes popped open and she smiled at me. “I usually have a nightcap.”

I headed downstairs again to get her another G and T.

I could hear the squawk of anxious birds as I approached the butler's panty. I veered off to the sunroom, where birds were sounding distraught and squawking. In all the chaos, nobody had covered them for the night.

“Bet you guys all want to go to bed.” A short hunt later in a cupboard, I found the sheets that must have been to cover the cages.

“Get lost,” said the little green parrot.

“No, you get lost,” I chuckled, flipping the first sheet over his cage. With a mutter and flutter of feathers, he settled down.

Next I covered the cockatiels, who both chirped in appreciation. The lovebirds were last, snuggled together on their perch.

“Good night, everyone.”

I stopped. Not quite everyone. Where was the cuddly pug? In all the drama, I hadn't even thought of the poor creature. And there was no Zoya to fuss over her. I checked the pink chintz wicker armchairs, the sofas, under the tables and ottomans, behind the plants. No bug-eyed little dog.

That was weird. And troubling. Asta would have been traumatized by the intruders, for sure. Aside from Asta yipping down the stairs when I was on my way up, I hadn't heard any dog sounds after I'd reached the upstairs when the intruders were there. I couldn't even remember how long ago. It seemed like a lifetime. My heart rate shot up. I
searched the downstairs area including the sunroom again, but found only plants, birds, pillows and chintz. Had Asta escaped when the thugs got out the back entrance? Or was she like Good Cat and Bad Cat back home, with plenty of secret places to hide? I stuck my head out the back door and called. Nothing. I did a halfhearted job of mixing the G and T. I rushed back upstairs and handed Gram her drink. I waited until she'd had a sip or two and then asked her if Asta had a favorite hideout.

Oops. There was panic I might have expected to see during the home invasion. One hand shot to her chest. “Asta! Where is my little dog? And the birds! What has happened to my birds?”

“They are all there. I covered all your feathered friends and they are snoring away. Asta is probably hiding from all the noise and fuss,” I said, but I was worried. If we'd been invaded by police at home, Walter would have yipped at them, but still managed to be around begging for handouts. Maybe Asta had a different disposition. “You stay here and relax. I'll check again.”

I checked the other bedrooms, except for Gram's. The police had closed Gram's own bedroom door and marked it off with tape. Asta hadn't been in there when they did that. Still, it had been quite a while since the police had left. I felt that if Asta had been around, she would have found Gram. Downstairs again, I peered through the back windows but there was no way to see. I opened the front door and glanced around. There was what must have been an unmarked police car just past the front of the house. I could see the uniformed officer sitting in the front seat. I waved.

I called, “Asta!”

Not a sound. No small traumatized dog. Back in, I double locked the front door behind me.

I headed for the back. Cracked open the back door a sliver
once again and called, “Asta! Come for a treat.” My experience with Walter had taught me that this strategy would often work. But I didn't know Asta and wasn't even sure what word she'd understand. I tried again, calling “cookie” and “biscuit” this time. I listened. Was that a whimper?

You do what you gotta do.

—The Kelly Rules

T
HE WHIMPER WAS
good news. Asta wasn't too far away. Although by now it was dark, I kept trying and peering around from the roomy back deck into the surrounding garden. There was no way I could go into that dark, sloping backyard with two violent perpetrators on the loose. Especially two who hadn't gotten what they wanted in this house—which I was now in charge of keeping safe, as Officer Martinez had been called to another incident. For all I knew, those perps were out there, holding that dog, waiting for a chance to burst in again. On the other hand, there was no way I could leave a terrified and spoiled little dog alone in the dark. I thought of Walter and how upset he'd be to be locked out of the house. And if these creeps had Asta, what a bargaining chip she'd be!

What to do?

I headed back to the front of the house. I peered out. Sure enough, the police officer was still parked there. Great to
be a cop, I thought, parking wherever. Membership does have its privileges.

I looked up and down and behind the bushes. I could see no reason not to knock on the police officer's car window and ask him or her to see if the dog was okay. Or requesting that he accompany me and keep me safe if dog rescue was not in the cards.

Uh-oh! Across the street, I could see Sierra waving frantically. I gave her an apologetic nod and pointed to the police car, parked under the streetlight. She stopped, puzzled, waited.

I knocked on the window and the middle-aged police officer lowered the window. Darn. He was a big guy, pink-faced and pudgy, and looked bored to the point of tears. He wore his cap low on his forehead, a style I always find irritating. I worried he might not feel he had anything to prove by rescuing a dog and earning my undying admiration. Through the window I could see Sierra dodging traffic to cross the street. I just didn't feel up to dealing with her upscale cheerfulness right at that moment.

She came right up and gave me a huge hug. “Are you all right? We saw the police, we didn't know what to think. Then the ambulance and—” She stopped talking and wiped her cheeks. To my astonishment there were tear tracks. “I'm sorry, but I didn't know what to do,” she wailed.

“Not your fault at all,” I said. “We are all right.”

“But someone went in the ambulance.”

“Zoya, the housekeeper. She'll be okay. Just a precaution.” While we were talking, I kept an eye on the front door. We were feet away from it, but it had been the kind of day, in fact the kind of trip, where anything, no matter how bizarre, could happen.

She shuddered. “Oh good, I mean it's such a nice neighborhood, who would think that—”

“Break-in,” I said, not wishing to give her details and send her into hysterics. “They're gone now. But thank you so much for spotting them and calling me.”

“Of course, did the police arrest them?”

I touched her arm. “No, but I'm sure they'll want to talk to you.”

She turned pale and her hand shot to her throat. “But I had nothing to do with it.”

“You saved the day, but they'll need a description. Sorry, Sierra, I need to talk to this officer. Tyler's grandmother's little dog has escaped. She's really upset. We all are.” Not exactly true, but I needed Sierra to give me space to talk to the officer.

“Oh no! I didn't know there was a dog. Really? Where do you think it went? This is a busy street.”

“Just one moment, Sierra.”

“But I was at the window, because I was so worried, and I would have seen if a dog came out. How would it get out the door?”

“Maybe when the paramedics came? Or the police.”

“But I think I would have noticed a
dog
.”

“I'm just going to ask the officer to help me look in the back. Gram will be so stressed if we don't find Asta.”

“In the back of what?”

“The house. She might have run down there and gotten too scared to come out. Maybe you could help, Officer.”

He cleared his throat and held the wheel with his pudgy fingers. He did not make eye contact. “Can't leave the vehicle except to go into the house in an emergency.”

“Well, it is a type of emergency. Missing dog.”

“Need more than that. My captain is not a fan of dogs.”

“Really? How is that even possible?” Sierra said. She did outrage well.

I said, “Well then, can you come into the house as it is an emergency.”

“Good try,” he said.

I couldn't believe this guy. No wonder he had that sloppy beer belly if he wouldn't get out of the car under these circumstances. “No really, if you come in, give me a chance to check on Gram, um, Mrs. Huddy, and then you could legitimately stand in the kitchen by the back door, while I check the back door. You could call for backup if something happened to me.”

“Your friend could keep an eye on you.”

Seriously? In a way I was glad that Tyler wasn't there. His curly blond hair might have caught fire.

“What? Oh no, I can't go in there.” Sierra's eyes widened in a crazy horse eyes kind of way. “Not after what happened.”

“But you don't know what happened.”

“You said violent! You said traumatized! I have a baby to take care of.”

“Where is the baby?” I couldn't believe she'd have left little Harry alone for a minute, let alone for this bizarre conversation.

“He's finally sleeping. He's with my husband.”

“Your husband? Maybe he could come with me and—”

“Oh, he'd love that. He adores dangerous situations, but he was up all night with Harry and they're asleep together. I just can't wake him up.”

Thanks a bunch
, I thought. “Not that dangerous. It's a dog in the backyard. I just need someone to keep an eye on Gram while I look.”

“Well,” she said, “maybe when he wakes up. I'll send him over. His name is Michael. His code phrase could be Pug.”

“What?”

“You know, so you'll be sure he's really Michael and it's all right to let him in.”

“How about ‘Joe sent me,'” said the cop with a snort.

“But who's Joe?” Sierra's pretty forehead creased in puzzlement.

The cop bit his lower lip. I may have done the same. She meant well and it wouldn't have been nice to laugh.

Uncle Mick used to say about Kev, “Can't help being the way he is,” and that seemed to apply to Sierra too. Like Kev, she had some excellent qualities. Brains and bravery weren't among them, but hey.

“Thanks, Sierra. I'll watch for him.”

“But only when he's awake.”

“Right.”

I turned to the cop. “Again, how about joining me inside and just keeping an eye while I check the back?”

He shook his head. “Sorry.”

Really really really not sorry. I found myself shaking with anger, not that I wanted to stand next to this miserable sweaty excuse for a police officer.

At that moment, my cell phone vibrated. Smiley!

“Great news,” he said. “We're on our way back. Zoya was seen right away and she seems to be all right, although you'd never know it to look at the expression on her face. We'll take a cab to Gram's and see you soon.”

“That's great news. The bad news is that Asta, the little pug, has vanished. She's somewhere in back of the house—”

“Jordan, do not go looking for her by yourself. Who knows where those guys are. Do you hear me? Don't—”

“Give me some credit. I wasn't going to take the chance. Officer Martinez had to take a call. I asked the local police officer to help but that was a no go.”

“That's second-rate. Never mind. I'll do it. Just take care of Gram and I'll be there soon. Take no chances. Okay?”

I muttered something about being glad Zoya was all right, and disconnected. I supposed there was no reason that poor little Asta couldn't wait ten more minutes.

“Thanks, Sierra,” I said. “I'm going in to check on Tyler's grandmother now. I've been out here a bit too long.”

She gripped my arm. “Wait! Don't go in until he's back.”

I patiently explained that I had been alone in the house and that there were no intruders there. “I just came out to look for the dog.”

“What if they have him?”

“You mean the dog? It's a her.”

Her voice rose. “What if they hold a gun to its head and force you to open the safe?”

“There's no safe.”

“Oh. Shouldn't the officer go with you just to see if it's safe to go back in?”

“No,” the officer said. “She's been out here for five minutes and no one has come or gone.”

“My fiancé is also a police officer,” I said. “He'll be here in a few minutes. We'll look together.”

“Should I still send Michael over when he wakes up? I'd like you to meet him.”

If he was anything like her, this stressful day wouldn't be the right time to get to know Michael. “We'll be okay.”

She smiled and I could see the relief on her face. “Okay. We'll wait to hear. And really, anything we can do. Anything at all.”

Right. I knew she meant it, useless as the sentiment was.

Time to reassure Gram. Once through the door, I stopped. What was that noise? I shook it off, but I was sure I heard the thump of footsteps.

“Who's there?” I called, one of the dopiest lines any one of us ever utters. “Gram?”

Gram's voice fluttered down the staircase. I could see her, swaying at the top. “Someone came up the back stairs. I was hoping it was you.”

Without thinking, I raced toward the front of the house.
I opened the door and shouted, “There's an intruder in the house! He got back in!”

I heard a clatter on the floor and the sounds of things being knocked over in the dark kitchen. Maybe it wasn't the smartest thing to run toward it, but I was expecting to be followed by the armed officer. As I flicked on the light, a dark figure shot out the back door and into the gloom. In the distant gloom I heard a small
yap
.

There was no sign of that useless cop, But I heard Asta, not too far away.

The garden door leading from the kitchen to the small deck stood open; broken glass lay on the floor surrounding it. It would not be a good idea for Asta to come through that. I rushed to the deck to make sure that didn't happen and picked up the small, shivering pooch before she stepped on the glass. A thrashing and crashing in the hedge separating the two properties told me that our burglar was not all that far away.

“You followed the burglar, didn't you, silly pooch? Not a good idea, but you're home now.”

Inside, I shouted, “Please get into bed, Gram. I'm getting the police and Tyler's on his way.”

Clutching the shivering dog, I dashed to the front of the house. The police car was gone.

I pulled myself together enough to say, “Good news,” to Gram. She was back in the guest bed brandishing her cane with the metal bird's head handle.

“So we're not out of the woods yet,” she said.

“Nope. One of the intruders”—well, who else would it have been?—“broke in through the garden door in the kitchen. There's glass everywhere. I found little Asta outside.”

Gram beckoned and I deposited Asta beside her. She snuggled up immediately and gave me an irritated bark,
on general principles. “Oh, Asta, when will you learn gratitude?”

I said, “Tyler should be back soon.”

Of course, the phone was still disabled, but I pulled out my cell phone and tapped 911. I said, “We had a violent break-in here earlier and one of the intruders has just come back and broken in through the kitchen door. You'll have a record of that. We have an elderly woman who has been traumatized and now the officer guarding the house has just driven away. Officer Martinez was here and she was called away. She needs to get back here and I mean now.”

“Calm down, ma'am.”

I really hate it when someone tells me to calm down. “There's nothing to be calm about. That intruder may come back again the minute he realizes that we are helpless here. You'd better get another car here as soon as possible. What? Fine.” I went through the tedious process of repeating everything that had occurred in Gram's house that afternoon and evening. “Yes. Ambulance, police officers, we had the whole enchilada. What? Oh, no, probably just police. We are actually not in need of medical help. One person went to the hospital earlier but we're fine. No, it
is
an emergency because we don't know where the perpetrators are and we are alone here with the back door broken and two dangerous men on the loose. Are they? Are they really on the way?”

Gram said, “I hear sirens. That's a good thing.”

“Fine, I will stay on the phone until they get here. Can you tell me why the other officer left us here alone?”

“What? Of course there was an officer here. He was parked right outside the house. I told you that. He was worse than useless because he actually wasted time, but he was there and I was not the only person to have seen him. Oh right, of course you can't give me that information.”