me?
CHAPTER 12
Matt’s face was grim, jaw clenched, as he went about the correct handling of evidence. He’d shone his car headlights across the patio and was casting an impossibly tall shadow as he inspected every inch of the cracked concrete around the plastic bag. He’d already dusted the door knob and bordering wood doorframe for fingerprints.
I shivered, hugging my arms across my body, as I sat on the Subaru’s back bumper.
“Go inside, Nora. I’ll come in when I’m done.”
“Whose is it?” I didn’t budge.
“No idea.”
“Do you think they were watching us and waited until we left to deliver it?”
“Could be.”
“Maybe they got the wrong house by accident.”
He either didn’t hear me or didn’t think the question was worth answering. I didn’t think so either, but I wanted to hope it was all a sick mistake.
A huge raindrop landed on my thigh and instantly soaked through my jeans. Then another.
Matt muttered something and dashed to the open trunk of his car. He hurried back with a large brown paper pouch and gingerly slid the plastic bag and its contents inside. “There’s nothing else here. Go on.” He tipped his head toward the kitchen door.
“Is that young man staying for dinner?” Clarice asked as I shed my windbreaker and hung it over the back of a chair.
She was stirring a couple bubbling pots on the stove, the ruffly red apron in attendance. The brusqueness of her movements, her tone of voice indicated she was back to her normal self.
“He’ll stay long enough to take our fingerprints for elimination purposes. What are you cooking?” I moved to peek into the pots. “I think he’s a picky eater.”
Clarice grunted. “He’s going to find my fingerprints are already on file.”
My mouth fell open and I blinked a few times. Must have been the steam. “Anything serious?” I finally managed.
“Disrupting the peace, assaulting a police officer.” She shrugged. “I was a college student in the ‘60s. You could meet cute guys at protests. Sometimes the cute guys were in uniform.”
“You assaulted a cute policeman?”
“He made me mad. Had me in handcuffs lying on the sidewalk, so I bit him in the ankle. Only place I could reach.”
I blinked a few more times. “What were you protesting?”
“I don’t remember now. It hardly even mattered then. Protesting was fun — beat going to class.” She eyed me with a sly smile. “He asked me out later.”
I was suddenly exhausted — and completely out of questions. I sank into a chair.
The phone in my pocket rang, and I fished it out. The caller ID showed Leroy Hardiman, the VP of operations for Turbo-Tidy Clean, who’d promised to call back when I’d asked for explanations earlier. About time.
“Nora?” His voice was muffled, as though he was speaking into his hand cupped around the phone. “Nora, where are you?” He was also panting. “Did you receive something today?”
All the bile in my digestive tract felt as if it was about to explode. “Was that you?” I shouted. “You disgusting, cruel—” I ran out of words horrible enough and banged my fist on the table. “Where is he — the man you mutilated?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not me, Nora. I got one too,” Leroy whispered.
“Got one what?” I snarled into the phone. Leroy was already on my questionable list. I didn’t want to give away more than I already had.
“A finger.”
“What’s it look like?”
He described a twin to the finger I’d received.
“Where are you?”
“My cabin — Big Bear.”
So the courier had found us both in remote locations. Which also meant the bad guys did not yet know who was responsible for the money going missing. I hated to put Leroy at risk, but I hadn’t known I was, which meant he was involved in some way. “What did you do?” I asked.
“What do you mean, what did I do?” Leroy switched to shouting. “I threw it in the trash,
CHAPTER 12
Matt’s face was grim, jaw clenched, as he went about the correct handling of evidence. He’d shone his car headlights across the patio and was casting an impossibly tall shadow as he inspected every inch of the cracked concrete around the plastic bag. He’d already dusted the door knob and bordering wood doorframe for fingerprints.
I shivered, hugging my arms across my body, as I sat on the Subaru’s back bumper.
“Go inside, Nora. I’ll come in when I’m done.”
“Whose is it?” I didn’t budge.
“No idea.”
“Do you think they were watching us and waited until we left to deliver it?”
“Could be.”
“Maybe they got the wrong house by accident.”
He either didn’t hear me or didn’t think the question was worth answering. I didn’t think so either, but I wanted to hope it was all a sick mistake.
A huge raindrop landed on my thigh and instantly soaked through my jeans. Then another.
Matt muttered something and dashed to the open trunk of his car. He hurried back with a large brown paper pouch and gingerly slid the plastic bag and its contents inside. “There’s nothing else here. Go on.” He tipped his head toward the kitchen door.
“Is that young man staying for dinner?” Clarice asked as I shed my windbreaker and hung it over the back of a chair.
She was stirring a couple bubbling pots on the stove, the ruffly red apron in attendance. The brusqueness of her movements, her tone of voice indicated she was back to her normal self.
“He’ll stay long enough to take our fingerprints for elimination purposes. What are you cooking?” I moved to peek into the pots. “I think he’s a picky eater.”
Clarice grunted. “He’s going to find my fingerprints are already on file.”
My mouth fell open and I blinked a few times. Must have been the steam. “Anything serious?” I finally managed.
“Disrupting the peace, assaulting a police officer.” She shrugged. “I was a college student in the ‘60s. You could meet cute guys at protests. Sometimes the cute guys were in uniform.”
“You assaulted a cute policeman?”
“He made me mad. Had me in handcuffs lying on the sidewalk, so I bit him in the ankle. Only place I could reach.”
I blinked a few more times. “What were you protesting?”
“I don’t remember now. It hardly even mattered then. Protesting was fun — beat going to class.” She eyed me with a sly smile. “He asked me out later.”
I was suddenly exhausted — and completely out of questions. I sank into a chair.
The phone in my pocket rang, and I fished it out. The caller ID showed Leroy Hardiman, the VP of operations for Turbo-Tidy Clean, who’d promised to call back when I’d asked for explanations earlier. About time.
“Nora?” His voice was muffled, as though he was speaking into his hand cupped around the phone. “Nora, where are you?” He was also panting. “Did you receive something today?”
All the bile in my digestive tract felt as if it was about to explode. “Was that you?” I shouted. “You disgusting, cruel—” I ran out of words horrible enough and banged my fist on the table. “Where is he — the man you mutilated?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not me, Nora. I got one too,” Leroy whispered.
“Got one what?” I snarled into the phone. Leroy was already on my questionable list. I didn’t want to give away more than I already had.
“A finger.”
“What’s it look like?”
He described a twin to the finger I’d received.
“Where are you?”
“My cabin — Big Bear.”
So the courier had found us both in remote locations. Which also meant the bad guys did not yet know who was responsible for the money going missing. I hated to put Leroy at risk, but I hadn’t known I was, which meant he was involved in some way. “What did you do?” I asked.
“What do you mean, what did I do?” Leroy switched to shouting. “I threw it in the trash,
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