Trouble in the Tarot (15 page)

I carefully folded what was left of the note and slipped it into my shorts’ pocket just in time. A flash of lightning lit up the black sky. Sean started whistling, and I scrambled to my feet the best I could, given that they were buried under mounds of muck.

“Evening, Sean.” The unmistakable deep timber of Detective Stone’s voice rang out loud and clear.

I froze. As carefully as I could, I leaned forward until I could peek out a crack in the corner of the Dumpster. Sean stood nonchalantly, wearing tan golf shorts, a polo shirt, and my fringed purse over his shoulder. While Mitch wore jeans with a T-shirt tucked in and a shoulder holster with his gun slung diagonally across his wide muscular chest.

On duty and working as always.

“Evening yourself, Detective. And a fine one it is, don’t you think?” Sean pasted on an unnatural smile that looked way too bright. We’d have to work on his game face if he was going to be my partner in crime, so to speak.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where Sunny is, would you? She hasn’t answered her phone, and I was getting worried.”

He had some nerve. He hadn’t told me where he was going, and he hadn’t bothered to check in all day. Not that we were an official item yet, and our one and only date had ended before it even got started, but still. We were supposed to be trying.

“Sorry, man.” Sean shrugged. “I haven’t seen her around.”

“Really?” Mitch let his gaze run over Sean from head to toe before adding, “Then why are you holding her purse?”

“Oh, that.” Sean laughed as though he’d forgotten he even had it slung over his shoulder. “Well, actually, I saw her earlier at Sam’s. I was picking up bread for Smokey
Jo’s, and Sunny came along for the ride. Granny and Fiona are driving her a bit crazy. She needed a break.”

Mitch’s eyes narrowed slightly. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re holding her purse.”

“She left it at Sam’s. I was looking for her so I could return it.”

“Out back of BB’s Baked Goods?”

“She wasn’t out front, so I decided to check all over. You know how funny Sunny is sometimes. No telling how that mind of hers works.” Sean fidgeted with the fringe on my knapsack, looking ridiculous.

“Right,” Mitch said, his gaze dropping to Sean’s hands. “Where’s the bread for Jo?”

“She called and said never mind,” Sean said without missing a beat. He was getting better at improvising and had even stopped moving his hands. He stood a little straighter and shoved his hands in his pockets. “She found a bunch of bread in the back storage closet, but forgot. Women.” He shook his head. “Must be wedding jitters has scrambled her brain.”

“Hmmm. Must be.” Mitch glanced around, his gaze settling on the Dumpster, and I held my breath. He finally looked back at Sean. “Where’s your car?”

“Sunny drove.”

Mitch’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “And she just left you here?”

“Like I said, she’s a funny girl. Maybe something came up with her granny. Who knows? All I know is I went to the bathroom, and when I came out, she was
gone. Had to be something urgent for her to forget her purse.”

“Must be.” There was a silent pause between them, and then Mitch finally said, “Come on. I’ll give you a ride home, and I can return Sunny’s purse to her when I stop by her place. I was on my way there when I saw you standing out back of BB’s as I drove by Sam’s.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I can walk.” Sean shifted his weight from side to side.

“You live clear across town. Don’t be ridiculous. I insist.”

“Well, if you insist, then I guess I have no choice,” he said louder than necessary, and Mitch gave him a funny look. “Lead the way, Detective,” Sean quickly added.

I wilted in relief at the sound of their retreating footsteps, followed by a groan of despair as I realized my keys were in my purse, which Mitch now had. Then another realization hit me hard.

I looked up. It was a heck of a lot easier to dive into a Dumpster than to try to climb back out. It would take a miracle for me to pull myself out. It would take an even bigger miracle for me to explain my way out of this one to Mitch.

With that thought, I bowed my head and prayed, promising to get to church more often. And the heavens chose that moment to open up and drench me good. It was either God blessing me or attempting to wash away my sins.

I was betting on the latter.

10

An hour later, after building a trash ladder as high as I could, I still couldn’t climb out of the Dumpster. Everything on me was slimy, and the bags were wet. Even if I did manage to get out, my phone was in my purse. My keys were in my purse. My purse was with Detective Grumpy Pants.

My nerves were shot.

The rain started coming down harder now. I sat back and pressed my lips together tightly, trying not to cry. I had nothing left in me. What a stupid idea this had been.

“You had enough yet, Tink?” said a deep, rumbly voice from somewhere outside the Dumpster walls.

I blinked. Was I hallucinating? His voice was music to my ears. As much as I knew he’d be angry with me,
I couldn’t stop from wilting in relief. “Mitch?” I called out in a shaky, exhausted voice.

Within moments, his big dark head appeared over the edge of the Dumpster. An inky black eyebrow crept up ever so slightly. “Do I even want to know the story?”

“Probably not.” I looked at him sheepishly. “I should have known nothing gets by you.”

“You should be grateful it doesn’t.”

“I am, but why did you wait an hour?”

“To give you time to think about your actions.” He reached out his large hands. “You ready to go home?”

I nodded past the lump in my throat and reached out to grab his wrists as he locked onto mine. He hoisted me up without much effort and lifted me over the edge. When my feet hit the ground, he stood there for a minute, just holding me.

“I’m sorry. Now you’re a mess, too.” I couldn’t stop tears of exhaustion and relief from slipping out and rolling down my cheeks as I wrapped my arms tighter around his thick neck.

He shrugged, his own eyes softening a bit as he tightened his hold on me. “Life’s messy, Tink. I’ll live. But now we both need a shower.”

Our eyes met and held. Was he thinking what I was thinking? After all that had happened, I was almost ready to cave. Almost ready to break the rules and forget having dinner first. Almost ready to throw the love diet in the Dumpster with the rest of the crap.

“Don’t worry. Dessert’s the last thing on my mind. You stink.”

I laughed. “Is my face really that readable?”

“Pretty much.” His lips quirked, and he carried me as we headed toward his car.

“I can walk, you know.”

“I know.” He continued to carry me until we reached the road. “Your car’s at my place along with your purse. You can shower there if you want.”

“Wait. How did you find my car?”

“It’s my job, Sunny. I knew something wasn’t right. Sean only gave me your purse, but he wouldn’t say a word about you. I circled back and found your car. One of my officers met me and followed me home, and then I came back for you.”

“How’d you know I was in here?”

“Call it a hunch.”

“Oh, well, thanks.” I lowered my head as he set me on my feet. “I thought you’d be furious with me.”

“Who says I’m not?” My eyes snapped up to see his face turn serious. “We’ll get to that soon enough. I just figured you needed a bit of a break first.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say, and I was admittedly nervous about exactly what
we’ll get to that soon enough
meant, but also irritated because I had some things I wanted to
get
to
as well. Like why he hadn’t kept me in the loop like he’d promised. “Thanks…I think.”

He unlocked the car, reached inside, and then handed me a towel. He walked around the car, grabbed his own towel, and then climbed in the driver’s side without another word. I slid into the other side, and neither one of us spoke again until we reached his apartment.

A half hour later, I was squeaky clean and wearing a pair of his cotton shorts and one of his soft-spun T-shirts. I’d had to roll the elastic waistband on his shorts several times and tie a knot in the bottom of his T-shirt to make them semi-fit. But I had to admit I felt comfy and cozy and safe wearing his clothes. They felt right.
We
felt right.

Even though I still wanted to smack him most of the time.

When I walked out of his bathroom, his gaze locked on me. It took him a minute before he could speak, then he cleared his throat and said, “You look cute. Now,
I
need a shower, and a cold one at that, dammit. Help yourself to anything.”

He disappeared before I could say a word, but that didn’t stop me from grinning like a fool. Served him right for all he was putting me through lately by not trusting me to help in my granny’s case. I suddenly realized he was in the shower, and he’d invited me into his apartment.

Where he kept his notes on the case.

No breaking and entering needed. I didn’t want to snoop, and I would
never
pry into his personal business, but the case was a different matter. He still wasn’t sharing information, and Granny was still in jeopardy. I would do whatever I had to in order to help clear her name.

I hurried to the little table by the front door. His gun, badge, and notebook were there by his keys. I quickly flipped through the pages. He had notes on the Parks
and Rec Program and the Animal Angels Organization, but nothing I didn’t already know.

The water shut off in the bathroom, so I knew he was almost finished. I darted into his bedroom. He had a small desk in there with all sorts of papers scattered about. I carefully rifled through them, looking for something…anything.

I saw a copy of the original note that Bernadette wrote to the captain that said she hoped he would choose her because she deserved to win, and that she thought Granny and Fiona wanted to kill her. Lying beneath it was a copy of a second note I didn’t know anything about.

A handwritten one that someone must have given to her that said for her to back off from the captain or else. Was this note from the same blackmailer who had written the serial killer–type note I’d found in the Dumpster, or had someone else been threatening Bernadette as well?

I quickly fired up Mitch’s printer/photocopier, praying he wouldn’t hear me, and made a copy of all three notes: Bernadette’s note to the captain, the blackmail note I’d found in the Dumpster, and the handwritten threatening note that Mitch had. I had just turned off the printer, folded up the notes, and stuffed them in my bag of dirty clothes by the front door when Mitch came out of the bathroom.

“What are you doing?” he asked from behind me, and I tried not to jump.

Swallowing hard and willing my heart to slow to a
normal beat, I took a leap of faith and hoped he would do the same. I pulled out the blackmail note I’d found in the Dumpster—knowing full well I had a copy in my bag—with the rubber gloves I still had in there and turned around to face him. “I’m coming clean with you.”
Sort of
.

He gave me a skeptical look. “Really? I can’t wait to hear this one.”

I raised my chin a notch. “Well, if you must know, Sean and I went to the bakery to get bread for Jo.”

“So he told me. Go on.” Mitch crossed his muscular arms over his NYPD T-shirt and basketball shorts.

“Sean had to use the restroom, and Sam’s was so busy, I decided to move my car. I didn’t want to take up space out front for other customers. So I moved it around back, and that’s when I heard the kitty.”

“Excuse me?” He looked at me as though I’d lost my mind.

“I know I heard a poor little kitty in the Dumpster. So I took my spare rubber gloves out of my car, because I left my purse in Sam’s, and I tried to find the poor kitty and I slipped and fell overboard, smack-dab into the Dumpster.”

“Uh-huh. Then why didn’t you speak up when Sean and I were outside talking?”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t believe me, and you would think I was purposely interfering with this case, which I’m not.” I crossed my fingers behind my back, and pointed out in an accusatory tone, “Even though
you promised to share any information with me, which you haven’t.”

“Sunny, you of all people should know there are certain things I’m not at liberty to discuss while the investigation is ongoing.”

“Oh, don’t give me that.” Anger surged through me. After all we’d been through together with past investigations. “We both know there are ways around that. This is my grandmother we’re talking about.”

“Exactly. And you are way too close to her to be objective about anything. I don’t want you influencing what I think, either. Let me draw my own objective conclusions based on the facts.” He leaned forward and stared me down. “Let me do my job, Tink.”

“Fine, Grumpy Pants. You’re all on your own.” I gave him a pointed look. “In every way imaginable.”

“Mind telling me what you have there?” He ignored my comment and pointed to my hands.

“By all means. I wouldn’t want to interfere with justice being served or influence you in any way with my thoughts. I stumbled across this piece of evidence, and now I’m turning it over to the police. Do your job, Detective. I’m going home.”