Worked to Death (Working Stiff Mysteries Book 2) (18 page)

"I'll bet. She's a Grade A snoop." I ran my hands through my hair and then remembered about my new do and stopped messing with it.

"She did a good job, and she even got me an in with Tumpka Brown who owns the lot and—as you may have guessed—is the main person behind the drug smuggling."

I nodded, feeling irritated that she'd done a good job. I could have done all that. I was feeling a bit pouty.

"I didn't want you involved. Allyson was already working there. You needed to stay out of it—it's not safe for you or Paget," he followed up.

It was as if he'd read my mind. Dang him. He sounded so reasonable.

"We were really close to busting this whole thing open, but then Brady Blue started selling dope to some teens who were hanging out at the gym. Athletes. He told them that these were performance enhancing drugs." He stood and walked in front of me.

"You mean like steroids?" I was trying to follow.

"Yes, but when the boys took the dope, they got hooked on this uber-Oxy, and then he had a repeat customer base."

It was kind of smart. Too smart for Brady Blue. I told Colin as much.

"Yeah, we knew he had someone else behind it, and we were trying to find out who while not blowing our cover on the import/export op via the car dealership."

"Hank O'Hannigan," I said, everything easily clicking into place now.

"Yep. But then there was a tangle we didn't expect."

"What was that? You fell in love with your insider?" I couldn't help the snarky comment. It seemed like all the guys in my life were involved with Allyson in some way or another.

He cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms over his chest. Waiting.

"Sorry," I said and then checked on Paget again. She was lying in the grass staring up at the winter cloudy sky.

"No. Your friend, Mick…"

"Don't tell me he was taking the drugs? For the pain?" I knew how painful that type of cancer could be, and there was only so much the doctor would prescribe. I wondered if he was picking up extra doses via Hank O'Hannigan or Brady Blue.

"What pain?" Colin raised his brows.

Might as well tell him now. What difference did it make?

"Mick was dying of stomach cancer."

"How do you know that?" Now he was the one who started to pace.

"I saw his stomach." I said, picking up the chili and staring down into the brown mixture. Suddenly I wasn't sure if I could eat it—what with all this talking about stomach cancer.

"You saw his—" He stopped pacing.

"Oh, yeah, Dr. C. showed it to me after his autopsy. You know, for clinical experience and all."

He gave a single nod and started pacing again.

I decided to pass on the chili and dug in the bag to see what else he'd brought for lunch. Finding a box of banana pudding, I grinned.

"Why are you pacing?" I asked as I opened the box and salivated over Ms. Maimie's creation. I'd know it anywhere.

"There was always something that didn't fit about this Mick Thibault character. We couldn't figure out if he was taking the drugs, selling the drugs, or what the hell he was even doing hanging out with these guys. I guess—I mean, he could have just been an innocent bystander."

I munched on a huge mouthful of pudding. Maybe I should offer some to Paget before I ate it all. I looked back at her, and she was now on her stomach, studying something in the grass.

Well, maybe after a few more bites.

"I think he was investigating it," I said with a mouthful of pudding, and Colin took the two steps back to the table and leaned in close to me.

"What do you mean?" His eyes held a certain intensity—maybe even fear.

A glob of pudding got stuck in my throat, but after a couple of extra swallows, I managed to get it down.

"I mean, his wife said he wanted to be a real journalist before he died. Not just a morning radio show guy. He was working on something, and I think this was it. Maybe he was going undercover to blow the lid off these drug sales." It all sounded reasonable to me.

What I didn't know was if they knew he was investigating them and put an end to him before his cancer could or if he overdosed on a convenient pain-killer instead.

My puzzle solving train of thought was suddenly derailed when he leaned toward me and studied my face intently.

"What?" I asked, feeling a little self-conscious as I swallowed down another bite of pudding.

"Cream."

"Cream?" I got lost in his eyes for a moment before they turned down to focus on my mouth.

Gulp.

He leaned in. His lips near mine. "You have a little cream here."

I closed my eyes.

Then, his lips nibbled at the corner of my mouth.

Grrrr…

"Shit," he said, his warm breath only millimeters from my lips.

I opened one eye.

"Shit?" That wasn't exactly the word that came to my mind when we were about to finally have a full-blown kissing situation.

He was looking behind me, and his face was taut with concern.

"What?" I asked and turned to look over my shoulder.

Paget was gone.

"Bless your pea-pickin' heart." —Things We Say in the South

The kiss was forgotten. The food was forgotten. The conversation was forgotten. The mystery was put on the back burner. My sister was missing. Again.

I'd worked hard at keeping my fear at bay these last few months. Apparently this disappearing act was something that had started when my Aunt Patty got sick last year. She'd never told me about it, but it was something that happened more and more the sicker she'd become.

By the time I'd come home and she'd passed away, I could barely keep Paget home. I'd struggled with it for weeks. But since I'd decided to stay here and not return to school, Paget and I had settled into a nice routine. Things had calmed down, and I had guessed that her need to escape had passed.

This was the first time she'd done this in a while. I only hoped it was just a case of wandering off. And I hoped that she wasn't found by one of these sneaky drug fiends before we could find her.

After covering the whole park, the playground, and the woods nearby, Colin and I had decided to split up and search.

I stopped off at the Thrifty on Main Street and called Ty. I was going to stop in every store between here and our house if I had to.

"Okay, Mandy. I'll send Prentiss and Keith out to look for her. Don't panic. Have you called Denise Owens?"

It was a good idea. They didn't live too far away, and she loved that family as much if not more than her own.

"Let me call her now. Thanks, Ty." I ended the call and phoned the Owens.

"We haven't seen her, Mandy." Denise sounded worried. "I'll get Adam to go out and look for her, and I'll stay here in case she shows up. I'm sure we'll find her."

"Thanks, Denise." I ended that call and then phoned Ms. Lanier. She promised to keep an eye out the kitchen window and let me know if Paget turned up at home.

All I could think about was Tumpka Brown and Hank O'Hannigan grabbing her to teach us a lesson. What if they knew that Colin and I were working together now to bring them down?

I trotted on. Sweat poured down my back from the effort. The next store I entered was the flower shop of Luna Sanchez. It was softly lit and smelled wonderful. Gorgeous bouquets sat in buckets of water, and small crafty trinkets lined the shelves in between.

"Hola, how are you today?'' Her warm smile comforted me in an unexpected way. I felt tears prick at the back of my eyes.

"I'm looking for my sister. Just a little shorter than my height, light brown hair?" I knew my effort was probably futile, but I ran through the specifics again. For the tenth time since starting down the shops on Main Street.

"Oh, she is wearing a sweater with a gato on it?" Ms. Sanchez said.

Where was Sundae when I needed her Spanish? I shrugged. Wait. "Yes. Yes. She is wearing a sweater with a cat on it. Have you just seen her?" Ms. Quick had knitted it for her. Page loved that sweater.

Her eyes lit up. "Oh, yes. She was outside. Walking with another girl. I don't know the names. But the other girl is too skinny. You know the type?" She made a frowny face. "These girls today think they have to starve themselves. They should eat a good solid meal once in a while. Men do like a little meat on your bones, you know?" She smiled at me.

I looked down at myself. Was she referring to my own personal abundance of meat?

"Uh, yeah. So what did this other girl look like, besides being too skinny?"

She looked up at the ceiling. Wiping her hands on her apron. "I can't really say. Didn't really stick out in my mind. But I've seen her here in the shop with her father before."

I gave a little hurry up motion with my hand, but thankfully she didn't see it. She was still looking up in the air. "I need to get my broom out. You see that spider web up there. It is huge."

I looked up at the distracting spider's web and gave him a glare. I didn't have time for spiders.

"Do you know who her father is then?"

"Oh yes." Ms. Sanchez looked back at me. A wide smile on her lips. "He helped me and my husband, Rigo, with our will last year. His name is Jamison. Randall Jamison."

I turned and ran out of the store tossing a thank you over my shoulder. She was still talking as the door closed behind me.

I'd have to come back and apologize later. As it was, I had to find Paget. I wasn't sure if she was in real danger, but I needed to be sure.

Something had clicked when I'd been in Sundae's shop earlier and, now, it was blooming fresh in my mind. A teenager in love would do crazy things. And Randall had told me yesterday how his daughter Teensy had overreacted to the news of Mick Thibault's death. I didn't know how she was involved in all of this, but I had a sneaking suspicion that maybe she was the Jamison woman involved with Mick and not her mother.

Was she involved in drugs, too? Did she have some part in Mick's death? And what was she doing with my sister?

*  *  *

I was jogging down Main Street looking left and right as I made my way through town. They couldn't be that far ahead of me. I'd seen her only moments before she'd disappeared.

I wondered if she'd wandered off and Teensy had just happened to run into her or if Teensy had lured her out of the park.

I couldn't help but to think the worst. Could that teenage girl have been involved in this type of drug operation? Was that how Mick had met her and gotten involved with a younger woman?

Surely they hadn't been intimate? She was only nineteen. An adult as far as the law was concerned, but still…

A police cruiser pulled up beside me and honked the horn. I looked over to see Officer Devon Keith giving me the once over.

I probably did look a little silly in my jeans, boots, and a floral sweater with my hair in some sort of hybrid styling—jogging down Main Street.

"I got the call from Ty. Haven't seen her yet. You wanna ride with me?" His voice was smooth and calm. Comforting.

I stopped to catch my breath, bending down to grab my knees and suddenly feeling out of shape.

It would make more sense for me to be on wheels at this point. I missed my car so much right now.

"Sure. Thanks, Devon." I walked around and got in the car with him. We slowly cruised on down Main Street—searching the streets for any sign of my sister.

"I think she's with another teenager named Teensy Jamison." I finally got out between gulps of oxygen.

"Is she a troublemaker, this Teensy?" He was all cop right now. Mr. Tough Guy with no social skills.

"I never thought so. She's one of those kids who was forced into every beauty pageant of the week. I think it might have damaged her." I didn't know this for sure, of course. It was just something I'd always thought.

"Hmm…Well, where do you think she was going with Paget? How would she tempt her to go along without telling you where she was going? "

Try to think like a teenager. I looked down at Devon's thick arms and tanned skin. He was so dang good-looking I could hardly concentrate. He was a different kind of hot than Colin. Colin was all dark and mysterious and leather jacket wearing. Devon was all tanned skinned and surfer looking but with a bodyguard, bouncer type aura about him.

"She'd tempt her by telling her that Adam needed her or that she needed to see Adam," I spoke the words and knew their truth with no doubt in my mind.

"Adam?" he asked, trying to follow my train of thought.

"Adam Owens. Page has a major crush on him. They are very close friends. He's the local football star." I gave the brief, three line sum-up profile on Adam Owens.

"As in the former Captain Owens?" Devon put the pieces together quickly.

"Yep. One and the same." I motioned down Grandview Road. "Turn here. Maybe they were going to the Owens' house." I had no clue where they were going, but it was as good a place as any to check out.

"We are heading by the station. Want to stop in there and file a report or anything official?" All-business Devon went by the book it seemed.

I sighed. "No, Devon. I don't want to file a freakin' report. I want to find my sister. This girl might be involved in some kind of drug operation. I don't trust her, and heaven knows what she's getting my sister involved in."

He glanced over at me but remained wordless.

The radio on the dash crackled—breaking the tension between us. "105, this is Prentiss."

Devon picked up the radio and responded, "This is 105, go ahead."

"We got a call from Coosada Concierge, and they found Miss Murrin in the yard of her residence."

I touched my chest. I'd never called off the request for cab service. Now I'd probably owe Mr. Hollon a small fortune.

"What's your 20?" Officer Keith asked.

Officer Prentiss responded, "We've just arrived on scene at 973 Edgewood Road, but she won't let us get near her and be advised, she's armed." As his voice reached my ears, my face heated up to an uncomfortable level.

"Armed, did he say armed?" I choked out the words. My hand trembled slightly.

"That's a 10-4. We're en route to 973 Edgewood Road," Officer Keith continued his radio transmission as if I wasn't in the car.

"Copy that," Prentiss responded, and the radio clicked off.

Devon hung the radio back on the dash and hit his lights and sirens.

"Oh my God," I said. But he didn't respond.

*  *  *

"Get back," Paget was saying as Officer Prentiss stood beside his cruiser.

"I'm not going to come near you, Paget. I just want you to put the gun down before you get hurt," he said in a calm voice that I surely wouldn't have possessed.

I was already out of the car and heading toward her when she turned the gun on me.

"Page, it's me, Mandy. What are you doing, honey?" My voice was higher pitched than normal, and it was quivering with nerves.

"No, Mandy. I'm not letting you in there. She said there was a bomb in there and that if I let anyone in, she would set it off."

Devon was standing behind his car door, and he slowly sank back into the car. I assumed he was calling for a bomb squad from nearby Montgomery as the Millbrook Police Department was certainly not equipped to handle anything like this.

"Who would set it off, Paget?" Ty's voice was suddenly behind me. I hadn't even heard him arrive. With the sound of my heartbeat in my ears, it was no surprise.

"Teensy. She said that there was a bomb and that Pickles was inside. He's my best friend." Her voice broke.

Ty looked at me. I shrugged. "Teensy Jamison, Randall's daughter."

He widened his eyes. "Paget, how would she get a bomb in there?"

"I don't know," she said, and she seemed confused. Her whole body was shaking like a leaf.

I moved a little closer, and she swung the gun back at me. "Paget, did Teensy give you a pill to take?"

Paget looked down at the ground. "She said…she said that Adam would like me if I took the pills."

Pills?

I looked back at Ty, and he motioned to Devon. I assumed that he was calling for medics. At least I hoped that was the case.

If Paget had taken a narcotic with her current neurological meds cocktail, this could be a huge recipe for a disaster.

"Paget, I don't think there's a bomb inside. Let's put the gun down, and we'll let these guys check it out and see." I sounded reasonable to myself, but she didn't budge.

She did turn the gun on Officer Prentiss though, as he'd moved about three steps closer to her while I'd been making an attempt at reasoning with her.

"No. You stay back!" She pointed the gun at him, and he held his hands up.

"Paget, look at me. Just focus on me a minute," I pled with her. This could be a huge tragedy waiting to happen.

"Mandy, I feel weird," she said, tears flowing down her cheeks.

"I know, baby. Look…why would Teensy want to blow up Pickles? It doesn't make any sense. What did she say exactly? Try to remember." Paget's memory was almost photographic. But I didn't know if this cocktail that had been created when her regular meds had mixed with who knew what dose of tampered-with Hydrocodone had altered her mental state beyond control.

"Uh, she said…she said that they wanted what you found in the trunk. She said that if you gave it back, they'd leave you alone. She said you had until…" Her eyes had rolled up to the sky as she spoke, and the gun had started lowering as she'd tried to remember the conversation verbatim.

Just then she was flying forward, her eyes wild, and the gun was floating through the air. Officer Prentiss was jumping out of the way, and Devon and Ty were running beside me—Ty shoving me to the side. But as I fell safely in the bushes that encircled our house, I couldn't have been more surprised. Ms. Lanier was lying sprawled out on top of Paget.

"I got her," Ms. Lanier shouted as sirens approached.