Lie or Die: A Shelby Nichols Adventure (25 page)

Sirens sounded in the distance. “Someone must have called the police,” Dimples said.

“That would be Emily.” I nodded toward her. She was hugging Dean and wiping her eyes. Dean’s involvement had been a shock. She could hardly believe he knew where the money was.

Felt couldn’t either. “Where’s the money?” he demanded, rushing to Dean’s side. The men he’d been guarding forgotten. Seeing their chance, they struggled to their feet.

“Felt!” I yelled. “They’re getting away!” He hesitated for a second, but his good sense won out, and he went after them.

“I’d better rescue Dean before Felt corners him again,” I told Dimples.

“Good idea,” he agreed. “Just make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.” He was thinking that if Dean knew where the money was, it was time he told them. Too bad he might have to be arrested for obstruction of justice, but he’d do what he could to get him off. In light of revealing Keith’s partner, it was a good bet they’d let him go. 

“You did it,” I said to Dean. “I wasn’t sure she was going to crack, but you got to her. You should be a cop or something. That was brilliant.”

He pursed his lips. “I did it for Keith. Plus it helped that she was greedy.” It was satisfying to see her snap, but it shook him up. And now he had other things to worry about. Like the money. A part of him wanted to return it, but another part didn’t. In some ways, he’d like to just leave it where it was until it rotted. Look at what it had done to his son. It just left a bad taste in his mouth, but he supposed he’d better do the right thing.

“Yeah, telling Betty you knew where the money was…” I said. “Even though you were probably bluffing. I mean, if you knew where it was, you would have told the police a long time ago. Otherwise, they’d have to arrest you.”

“You think so?” he asked.

“Yes. But I think I know what Keith did with it.” I emphasized Keith’s name so he’d know I was putting it all on Keith, even though it was Dean who’d hidden the money.

“You do? Where?” I told him, and he relaxed. “How did you figure it out?” he asked.

“I’ve been investigating this for the bank, and after putting all the facts together, I think that’s the only place it could be.”

“Well,” he said, rubbing his chin. “You have my permission to look.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll call the bank today, and let them know.” He nodded, and I added, “Do you mind keeping this between you and me? I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up in case it’s not there.”

“Sure,” he agreed. “I was bluffing anyway, so it’s not like I know where it is.” His conscience satisfied, he was happy to let me handle it.

The police arrived and talked to each of us about what happened. Betty was officially arrested and carted off to jail. Felt had to go to the police station in order to get his bounty on the men, but that didn’t stop him from harassing Dean. After telling him a third time that he was bluffing, I told Felt to leave Dean alone.

“Did you ever find out what Betty was doing in her shop?” I asked him, hoping to take his mind off the money.

“Not for sure,” he said. “But I think she was producing forged birth certificates and social security numbers, stuff like that.”

“Wow,” I said. “I never would have figured that out.”

“Yeah, the guys that went there were looking for new identities. They were all crooks with records.”

“I wonder why she would rob a bank if she was making money doing that?” I asked.

“Who knows,” he said. “Maybe some of the people she helped were bank robbers. They could have been part of the crew that pulled off that robbery.”

“Knowing how Betty operates, they’re probably all dead now.”

He chuckled. “That, or she’ll give up the names for a lighter sentence. Anyway, if I want those bounties, I’d better go.”

I made it home an hour later. Chris was still coaching Josh’s soccer game, and Savannah had gone to a friend’s house. Now was a good time to call Blaine Smith. I pushed in his cell number and waited with anticipation to tell him the good news.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his tone excited.

“Yes,” I said. “And he gave his permission.”

“Okay. I’ll call them right now and meet you there in half an hour.”

I left early, arriving at least ten minutes before Blaine. I found the director and told him who I was. He already had a crew at the site, and I wandered in that direction. I’d always liked it here. It seemed so peaceful.

I arrived at the site just as Blaine drove up. He had two security men with him, carrying guns and bags for the money. He wasn’t taking any chances. He greeted me, and we watched the small backhoe dig up the earth surrounding Dottie Weir’s grave.

Several minutes later, they pulled her casket to the surface. I’d never seen a body that had been that long in the grave, and I was a little spooked. The director opened it up, and there she was, lying on a bed of cash. Dottie even had a smile on her face, like she enjoyed it.

“I don’t know how you figured it out,” Blaine said. “But thank you.” He was troubled that he’d gypped me out of the finder’s fee. “I’ll be sure to include a bonus for your hard work.”

“Thanks, that would be great,” I said. After what I’d been through, I was okay with a bonus. “If you don’t need me, I’m going to go home now. You’ll let the police know, right?”

“Yes,” he agreed. “Once the money’s safely in the bank, I’ll let them know and call a press conference.”

“Good deal.” I drove home with a happy heart, knowing I’d solved my first case. Shelby Nichols Consulting Agency was now a bona fide success. Who knew? It was bound to be good for business, and maybe I’d even get my name in the paper.

I got home, excited to find Chris and tell him the whole story.

“How’d it go this morning?” Chris asked.

I told him everything, including that I’d already been to the cemetery with Blaine Smith to dig up Dottie’s grave. “She was lying on top of all that money,” I said. “So I guess even though my clue from Keith about the money being in a box or something didn’t turn out because his father found it and hid it inside his sister’s casket, it was still the right clue because “underwear” sounds a lot like “under Weir.” Get it?” I laughed at my silly joke and punched Chris in the arm.

He just shook his head. “That is pretty crazy.” He was thinking that I should have asked for the finder’s fee, instead of getting paid hourly. But now that I had some experience, I’d know better.

“How much do you think I should charge an hour?” I asked. “I guess fifty dollars is kind of low, compared to other private investigators.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “I’ll bet they charge between three hundred and five hundred an hour, and they don’t have a super-power like you.”

I laughed. “Oh, so it’s a super-power now?”

“I think it fits in that category. Better that than calling it a curse, don’t you think?”

I had to agree with him, although sometimes it did feel like a curse. Like with Uncle Joey, and how Kate had told my secret to a man like Eddie Sullivan. Every time I thought about it I got the shivers.

***

The next morning, my picture was on the front page. There I was, standing beside Blaine Smith at the cemetery with the heading, “Bank Recovers Stolen Money In Cemetery.” How did that happen? The director, or one of the workers must have taken the picture with their cell phone.

The article included a mug shot of Betty as the alleged robber. It went on to say that they interviewed Detective Harris, the arresting officer at the scene, for more details. He mentioned me as the private investigator working on the case, and it was my expertise that led them to Betty. They also spoke to the bank manager, Blaine Smith, who praised my abilities to crack the case and find the stolen money.

I scanned the rest of the paper and found a small article on two unsolved murders that happened at a private club. They were reported as gang related, and asked for anyone with information to please come forward. With no arrests or apparent leads, I hoped they didn’t think about asking me for help, since I couldn’t exactly tell them the truth.

Not long after the paper came out, my cell phone was flooded with calls. I’d turned my phone off since it was Sunday, and when I turned it on later, I was shocked to find my voice mail full. A few were from reporters wanting an exclusive interview for their magazines or papers. Several others were from people wanting to hire me. Only two were from people I knew. One was from Dimples, and the other from Uncle Joey.

Dimples said he was grateful for my help, not surprised I’d found the money, and that he’d called the FBI about my premonition. He hoped I didn’t mind that he told them it was a tip and kept my name out of it. My relief was so profound; I would have kissed him if he’d been here…on the cheek, of course.

Uncle Joey said he’d seen the paper and wasn’t happy about my success, worried that my secret wouldn’t be safe. I thought it was probably more that he wanted me all to himself. He asked that I call him first thing Monday morning, and if I was busy, to remember he was my first and most important client.

I waited until nine on Monday morning to call him back.

“Shelby! Thanks for calling.” He sounded lots more cheerful than I thought he would, so I relaxed a bit.

“Sure,” I answered. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” he said. “Congratulations on solving the bank case. You had a busy weekend.”

“That’s for sure. Good thing I’m leaving on vacation next week.”

“You are?” He sounded disappointed.

“Yes,” I said enthusiastically. “We’re taking the kids to Orlando to see Disneyworld and Universal Studios. It should be a lot of fun, and I’m really looking forward to it.”

“Well, you certainly deserve a break.”

“So, how did things go with Kate?” I asked. “Did you figure out what to do with her?”

“Yes. That was one of the reasons I called. I wanted to let you know that I’ve sent her back to Seattle. Now that Eddie’s gone, things have changed, and I arranged for her to get her business back. She’ll get a new start and her foot in the door to manage things up there.”

“Wow. That was nice of you, and probably more than she deserved.”

“I think everyone would agree with you on that,” he said. “But I know Kate needs a challenge, and this will keep her busy and occupied.”

“What about my secret? Will she keep her mouth shut?” I asked.

“I have a guarantee that she will…under penalty of death,” he added. “So your secret is safe for the time being.”

“Whew, that’s good. I don’t need any more crazed, insane people after me.”

He chuckled. “No, you have plenty of those already.”

Was he making a joke about himself, or just being sarcastic? “Ha, ha,” I said. “Well, if you don’t need anything else, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Actually there is something else,” he said. “Since you’re going to Orlando, you can do me a favor while you’re there.”

“What’s that?” I asked, cautiously.

“Don’t worry. It’s simple. Just deliver a letter for me.”

“Why can’t you just mail it?”

“It needs your special touch,” he said. “So I’ll know how he takes it. It means you’ll have to stay while he reads it, but I’ll tell him to give you his answer before you leave. All right?”

If there was any way I could turn him down, I would, but I knew that was not going to happen. “Sure.” I sighed.

“Excellent,” he said. “Stop by the office after Wednesday, and I’ll have it ready for you.”

We disconnected, and I was a little angry that I couldn’t even go on vacation without Uncle Joey involved. But maybe delivering a letter wasn’t so bad. It was better than getting shot at, or kidnapped, and easier than looking for lost treasure.

Just thinking about that made me wish I could tell my Grandpa all about it. I’m sure he’d be proud, and telling everyone he knew that I was his granddaughter. He’d tell me he was proud that I’d used my ‘super-power’ to help people. Maybe he was looking down on me from heaven right now, with a big smile on his face.

I realized I had a lot going for me. I had solved my first major case. I had plenty of business for my agency. And I was still alive. Best of all, I was going on vacation with my family. Being with them for fifteen straight days would be fun. I’d just have to work on my shields. Then maybe I could handle it.

I only knew one thing for sure. No matter what happened, it was bound to be an adventure.

THE NEXT SHELBY NICHOLS ADVENTURE

NOW AVAILABLE

SECRETS THAT KILL

By

COLLEEN HELME

(read on for a sample)

When I was a kid, the best part of my trip to Disneyland wasn’t the park, the rides, or the entertainment. It was the swimming pool at my cousin’s house where we stayed. I loved going to their house after a long hot day and gazing into the pool’s clear blue water. With the pool light turned on, there was just something about that water that made me want to jump in. With the dark starry night overhead, it was soothing and magical.

That’s why, on the last day of our vacation to Orlando, I found myself sitting beside the pool. It was late, and most everyone had gone to bed, so I was there by myself. If I could have gone swimming, I would have, but the pool had just closed for the night. So I sat back in a chair and gazed into the water, smelling the slight odor of chlorine and feeling the tension ease out of my body.

It felt so good to have my thoughts to myself that I almost cried. Hearing people’s thoughts in all the crowds these last two weeks had been murder on my poor brain. I had put up my shields as much as I could, but it left a constant tension between my eyes; and worse, I was sure I had new wrinkles to show for it.

I had no idea there were so many different theme parks and attractions in Orlando. We had visited at least five parks, with several other attractions thrown in. Although we’d taken a couple of days off in-between to recover, mostly for my benefit, the constant barrage of thoughts had gotten on my nerves, making me irritable and short-tempered. I’d done my best, but I knew that Chris and the kids were happy to leave me at the pool and go inside for bed. Chris tried to understand, but I knew it bothered him.

It bothered me too, but for different reasons. Sure, I had the ‘super-power’ of reading people’s minds, but this vacation had proven that even I had my limits. I might have handled one week, but two was over-kill. Today had proven that. I cringed to remember how I’d yelled at the father who was only ‘thinking’ his cute daughter was a pain in the butt, and today was one of those days he wished she’d never been born. I’d told him to quit being so selfish and enjoy this time with her. That she’d grow up before he knew it, and he’d be sorry and full of regret for his poor attitude.

The problem was, she was just a baby and had thrown up all over him. So I had probably over-reacted. His first thought in reaction was guilt that I was right. But his second impulse quickly over-rode the first, and hot anger turned his face red. How dare I chastise him in front of all these people when he hadn’t done anything wrong?

Acting fast, Chris wisely pulled me away and apologized over his shoulder, telling the guy I had forgotten to take my medication. My outrage at Chris quickly changed to embarrassment and then self-loathing. Chris couldn’t believe I could be so callous and mean. What was wrong with me? Where were my shields? My behavior was totally unacceptable. Not only that, he was so embarrassed he could hardly stand it.

But he only “thought” all of those things, so I couldn’t be too angry. Especially when he also thought being privy to everyone’s thoughts had to be rough on me, so he needed to cut me some slack. Still…

Shame and regret flowed over me, so I shoved the memory away and glanced up at the stars. Our flight tomorrow didn’t leave until three o’clock in the afternoon, so we still had some time in the morning to relax. Or at least Chris and the kids did. I had an errand to run for Uncle Joey. He was the mob-boss I had to work for since he knew my secret.

Although he compensated me for my time, we had a tenuous relationship. It had evolved over the last few months, and I liked to think it was now based on mutual respect rather than fear that he would kill me. Still, it was a balancing act to work for him on my terms rather than his.

When he found out I was coming to Orlando, he’d asked me to deliver a letter for him. Not a big deal, right? So I’d saved his errand until the last moment, hoping it wouldn’t ruin my vacation. That was a big mistake, since thinking about delivering the letter every day had done exactly that. I should have just delivered it the first day we’d gotten here instead of dragging out the torment. That was just plain stupid.

First thing in the morning, I’d take care of it. Then we could go home. Our vacation was over. With the exception of that embarrassing incident today, we’d had a fun time here, and I was grateful we’d come, but now I was eager to go home and get back to normal. Plus the extra space from all the people wouldn’t hurt.

Ha! Who was I kidding? I could hardly wait to be alone in my own house. Just thinking about it brought such a profound sense of relief that I was a bit giddy. Did that mean I was losing it? Had the stress finally gotten to me? Maybe I did need some kind of medication. What I’d done today was…I shook my head and sighed. A cool breeze brushed my skin, making me shiver. It was time to put a stop to these gloomy thoughts and go to bed.

***

Chris checked the address one more time. “Are you sure you’ll be all right delivering this by yourself?” He was thinking how worried he was about me, and wishing I hadn’t waited until the last moment to do this. He could have come with me if I’d gone earlier. What was I thinking?

“Yeah. It’s no big deal. I’ll be fine.” I gave Chris a reassuring hug and kiss, wanting to ease his worry and escape his criticism. “See you at the airport. Bye kids.” Engrossed in their packing, they absently waved.

I took the elevator to the lobby and hurried out the door. A cab was waiting for me, and I got in, giving the driver the address. “How long will it take to get there?” I asked.

“About twenty-five minutes,” he replied.

“Okay good,” I answered. It was a little before ten a.m. and I didn’t have to be to the airport until one, so I had plenty of time. I would probably get to the airport long before Chris and the kids, but I wanted to play it safe and not miss my flight.

“How far is it from this address to the airport?” I asked the driver. I probably should have checked a map since I was basically clueless as to where I was going.

“Um…probably about twenty minutes,” he said.

“So do you think I’ll make it by one?” I asked mostly for his benefit so he’d know I was on a schedule.

“Of course,” he said. “Unless you plan on staying for more than a few minutes, you should be to the airport by…eleven-thirty or so.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” Maybe I shouldn’t have left so early, but with my luck it was probably better to plan for extra time.

I spent the drive making sure I had everything in my carry-on bag that I needed for the flight. Chris was in charge of my luggage, so I didn’t have to drag it around with me, but I still felt loaded down with both my carry-on and my purse. Luckily, my carry-on was just a big bag so I could carry it over my shoulder. In fact, if I moved things around, there was probably enough room to stuff my purse inside as well.

That accomplished, I heaved a sigh of relief, grateful I wouldn’t have to worry about keeping track of both bags. Before zipping it all up, I found the letter from Uncle Joey that I’d put in a special compartment, and pulled it out.

It was addressed to Warren Peace, which I knew had to be a fake name, or maybe even a code of some sort, and I held it gingerly. Getting rid of this couldn’t come fast enough for me. I’d tried to tell Uncle Joey to mail it, but he wouldn’t, saying he needed my ‘special touch’ so I could tell him what Warren was thinking. That worked fine as long as Warren didn’t take it out on me. Especially since I had a feeling that the message it contained couldn’t be good.

The cab pulled next to the curb and came to a stop. I glanced up at an apartment complex and realized I was in trouble if he wasn’t home. What was I going to do then? I didn’t even have a phone number.

“I’ll only be a minute, if you don’t mind waiting,” I told the cab driver.

“No problem, as long as you know the meter’s still running.” He sent me a friendly smile and settled back in his seat to wait. He hoped I’d take my time and pulled out a book to read.

I got out, taking my bag with me, and scanned the apartment numbers. I found the one I was looking for on the lower level, which had about five steps leading down to the door. The outside light was on, and for some reason that made me nervous. Did that mean he wasn’t home? What would I do then?

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, I started down the stairs and rang the bell. I heard some rustling inside before the curtain parted and someone glanced out at me. I caught sight of a bearded face and glasses, before the door opened a crack.

“I’m not interested,” he said, and began to close the door.

“Wait,” I said, pushing against the door. “Are you Warren Peace? I have a letter for you. Then I’ll go. Here…” I held it out, “Just take it.”

His eyes widened because of the name I’d called him. Joey “The Knife” Manetto was the only one who called him that. He glanced behind me, then stuck his head out the door to look up the stairs. “Are you alone?” he asked, frowning.

“Yes. I’m only here to deliver this letter and take your response back to Uncle Joey.”

He hesitated, then his thoughts filled with about every swear word imaginable. I would have held my hands to my ears if it had done any good. “All right,” he finally said, still not taking the letter. “You’d better come in.”

I hurried inside and he closed and bolted the door behind me. “Did anyone see you come here?” he asked.

“Well, no…just the cab driver. He’s waiting outside for me.”

This time he cursed out loud. “You’ve got to get rid of him! A yellow cab like that will draw attention. Quick, before someone notices.”

“I can’t,” I said, alarmed that he was freaking out. “He’s taking me to the airport. Just read the damn letter and tell me your answer!” I tried to shove the letter into his hands, but he held them up.

“I don’t have to read it. I know what he wants, and I just can’t do it.” He sent a searching glance at me, desperation filling his eyes. “You’ll have to do it for me, or I’m a dead man. Please…I just need you to take what Manetto wants back with you. You can give it to him for me. If you don’t, I swear I’ll be dead by morning.” He grabbed a wad of bills from his pocket. “Pay off the cabbie and I’ll take you to the airport. It’s not safe for you or me with him sitting out there like a yellow beacon. Manetto has no idea what he’s gotten you into here…Hurry! Go!”

Waves of anxiety poured off him, infecting me with his fear. I took the cash and hurried out the door. He wasn’t lying about my safety, or anything else he’d said, and that scared me. I paid the cabbie, giving him an extra twenty for a tip, and hustled back to the apartment. Warren waited at the top of the stairs, watching up and down the street until I came back. He ushered me into the apartment, locking and bolting the door behind us.

“Hopefully, we have a little time,” he said. “At least I’ve prepared for this moment. I just didn’t know Manetto would make his move so soon.” He was thinking about everything he needed to get before we left. He had stashed all his cash along with his passport and ID in the freezer.

“Wait,” I interrupted. “Read the letter first, and then tell me what’s going on.” I shoved the letter into his hands, and planted my feet in front of the doorway to the kitchen.

With great reluctance, he tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter. As he read, I heard the words in his mind.

Warren…I need the information you’ve obtained for me. I know it might put you in danger, but I’ve discovered through my sources that it’s time you moved on anyway. Bring it to me without delay, and I’ll help you disappear. The lovely woman delivering this letter is Shelby Nichols. Tell her you’ll bring the item to me, and then send her on her way. If anything happens to her because of you, you’re A Dead Man. Don’t keep me waiting. Yours…etc…Joe E. Manetto.

Warren glanced at me and licked his lips. Maybe he’d been too hasty in sending the cab driver off and enlisting my help. Manetto didn’t make threats he wasn’t ready to keep. “What time does your flight leave?” he asked.

End of sample
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