Vanishing Act (26 page)

Since I've been doing detective work part-time, an employment I backed into over the course of a murder investigation in which I was named as a suspect, I've come to appreciate the truth of what my grandmother used to say to me whenever I got into trouble. She'd shake her finger in front of my nose and intone in her heavily Russian-accented English, “If you hadn't been where you didn't belong, this wouldn't have happened.” Which is also true of most of the people that need my help. They need it, because either they were where they had no business being or they were doing something they shouldn't have been.

Manuel cleared his throat. “This is the story ...” But before he could get into it, I gestured for him to be quiet.

“I'd like to hear Eli tell it.”

Manuel hitched up his pants and bobbled his chin in and out like a chicken looking for a piece of corn in the dust. “I'm just trying to move things along.”

I concentrated my gaze on him. “You have a special interest in this?”

Manuel put his hand up in the air palms toward me, fingers splayed. “I'm just here as one of those ... those good Samaritans.” He flashed me a smile. “You like the word? I'm doing what you said. I got me one of those improve your vocab books ...”

“Very nice.”

Manuel stroked his left sideburn. “I figured I'd help you out I'd help Eli out.”

“I'm surprised. Disinterested generosity not being your usual style,” I noted dryly.

Manuel scrunched up his face and did a good imitation of being affronted. “You got no call to talk to me like that.”

I had all the call in the world. I was about to remind him of why I did when Eli started talking.

“It's okay.” Eli studied the floor for a minute before looking up at me. The thickness of the lenses in his glasses imparted an unfocused quality to his pupils. “I told him that he could tell you.”

I scrutinized Eli. “If you don't mind, I'd rather hear the story from you.”

Eli bit his lip. I watched the skin around his teeth go from pink to white.

“I can respect that,” he said after he'd released his grip.

I glanced over at Manuel. He was tapping his fingers against his thighs and doing a little shuffle dance with his feet.

I motioned to the back room. “Would you rather talk to me in there?”

Eli shook his head and tugged on the edge of his brown corduroy jacket. “It's not really a big deal.”

I began to sympathize with Manuel. I wanted to say, if it isn't such a big deal, why are you here? I didn't. Instead, I waited as Eli reached up and reseated his baseball cap on his head, setting it first one way and then another, until he found the exact right place. Then he motioned to one of the tanks sitting alongside the left wall.

“How much would one of those corn snakes set me back?”

“About one hundred and fifty.”

“I don't suppose you'd let it go for one hundred?”

I told him I'd think about it.

“Good.” Eli smiled for the first time since he'd walked in the store.

I tapped my fingers on the counter. “So, are you going to tell me what this is about or not?”

He let out a titter, then stopped himself. “It's about a suitcase.”

“What about it?” I prompted after thirty seconds or so had gone by without Eli saying anything, not that I didn't have a pretty good idea of what he was going to say next. I wasn't wrong.

“I need you to find it for me.”

“No kidding.”

“That's right.” Eli licked his lips. He hurriedly took an envelope from his shirt pocket and held it out to me, an offering, all the while averting his eyes from mine, looking at the fish and the birds and the hamsters and every damn thing in the store except me. This did not inspire confidence. “There's six hundred in here for you now and another six hundred when you give it to me.”

I wondered what was in the suitcase. Drugs? Hot merchandise? Certainly not Eli's Armani suit. I repressed a sigh. So much for my ideas on Eli's moral character. What had they been based on anyway? The fact that he liked herps and went to school? I made a steeple with my fingers and lightly rested my chin on it. “What's in this suitcase that's so valuable?”

Eli swallowed and glanced at Manuel. Their eyes locked. Manuel gave the merest suggestion of a nod.

“Nothing important,” he replied. “Personal stuff.”

I drummed my fingers on the countertop. “Right. And I'm Marie, the queen of Rumania.”

“Rumania?” Manuel asked all wide-eyed. “Is that a country or something?”

“No. It's a new planet.” I pointed to the door. “That's enough. Both of you. Out.”

“Please,” Eli cried. “You got to help me. They're going to chop my fingers off if you don't.”

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