A Teeny Bit of Trouble (30 page)

Read A Teeny Bit of Trouble Online

Authors: Michael Lee West

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths

“I can find one on my laptop,” Asia said.

“But I don’t have wireless Internet,” I said.

“My laptop is 4g / WIMAX-enabled.” He sat down next to me and opened his Dell. His fingers curled over the keyboard. “What’s the first phrase, Teeny?”

“ADULTS GROWLER.”

He typed in the phrase. Then he whistled. “Wow, 7,215 results. Does LARGEST WOULDST mean anything to you?”

“No.” I leaned toward him and scanned the list. On the fifth row, I saw DRUGSTORE WALL.

“That’s got to be it,” I said. “She put something on the drugstore wall.”

“But why did she write two sets of anagrams?” Zee lifted Barb’s note.

Asia snapped his fingers. “Could the anagrams inside the envelope possibly cross-reference the anagrams in the note?”

“Clever,” Zee said. “Like Russian nesting dolls.”

I handed the envelope to Asia. “Let’s find out.”

Asia typed in HOP TO. Only ten results. But PHOTO was listed at the top of the list.

“So she put a photo on the drugstore wall?” Zee asked.

Asia typed in TISSUE WHIM WIT and hit the return key. A long row of results came up, and nearly every other word was SWIMSUIT. At the bottom of the list I saw WHITE SWIMSUIT. Back in high school, Barb had always worn white suits because they showed off her tan.

Zee scrunched up her face. “Does this make any sense, Teeny?”

“Not yet.”

A clicking sound rose up as Asia typed NASAL DYNAMICS. I half expected it to be the name of a medical company, but it turned out to be CAYMAN ISLANDS. BECK YOLK OX was easy—LOCK BOX KEY. I thought of the little key I’d found in the fox jacket.

Asia typed in ANAL FINK BERM JINN. We scanned the list. He tapped the screen, right next to FABLE MARK JINN INN.

“Could that be a hotel in the Caymans?” he asked.

The results for CEDE NEPHRITIS ION UP produced over 80,000 hits, each one beginning with CEDE. Not a single one made sense. A THOUSAND LIVERS had 10,000 possible solutions, including A HALVED SINUS ROT and A VERDANT SUSHI LO.

“We still lack three anagrams,” Asia said. “Let me type in CEDE NEPHRITIS ION UP again.”

Zee hopped off the table. “I wish we could get inside Philpot Pharmacy and look at the walls.”

“We can,” I said. “I’ve got a key. And the code to the burglar alarm.”

I explained about Kendall’s Hello Kitty key chain and how the code was her birthday.

Asia scowled. “Please don’t tell me you’re thinking of breaking and entering.”

“We need to see what’s on the drugstore’s walls,” Zee said.

“Are you crazy? It’s Saturday night. The Bonaventure PD has extra patrol cars on the weekend. They’ve got to keep the tourists safe. Besides, what could you find on a damn wall?”

“Barb hid clues,” I said. “I’m guessing they’re in a photograph, or behind one.”

“And if you find this picture, then what?” he asked.

“It may have information about the Caymans bank account. Whatever it is, I’ll show it to my boyfriend. He can talk to the Bonaventure DA. They’ll get a search warrant.”

“I don’t think it works that way,” Asia said. “Where’s the probable cause?”

“That’s right,” Zee said. “On
Law & Order
, there’s always probable cause.”

“There’s another problem,” Asia said. “We don’t know if we’ve correctly solved these anagrams. DRUGSTORE WALL could also be GORED RUST WALL.”

“It’s the drugstore.” I touched my lip. Damn, it hurt.

“But why did this woman put a clue on a wall that her husband sees every day?” Asia asked. “There’s either a flaw in her logic or yours.”

Zee’s eyes got huge. “Maybe she wanted him to find it?”

“Then why did she send the anagrams to Teeny’s boyfriend?” Asia asked.

I shut my eyes. Barb had used these anagrams to lure Coop, to ensnare him in her problems. She’d wanted to lead him to the drugstore wall. But I couldn’t believe that she’d meant for him to see her diary.

Sir howled and ran to the front door. Asia pulled out his Glock and walked to the porch. Sir raced down the steps. Red squatted behind Asia’s van, writing in a notepad.

“Hey, mutherfucker,” Asia called, holding the Glock in both hands. “Why are you writing down my license tag number?”

“Wait, I know him,” I said, but Asia was already drawing a bead on Red.

“Put your hands on your head,” Asia yelled.

“Don’t shoot.” Red dropped the notepad. He lifted his hands and slowly got to his feet. “I wanna talk to Teeny.”

Sir pranced over to him. Red kept his hands in the air. Asia clicked on the safety, then shoved the gun in his waistband.

Red’s gaze flickered over my lip. His upraised hands curled into fists. “Who hit you?”

I crossed my arms and didn’t answer. I refused to raise my lie tally over Norris.

Red cut his eyes to Asia. Then he lowered his fists until they were level with his hips.

“Don’t go for your gun, Red.” I walked to the edge of the porch. My words sounded muffled, as if I had a mouth full of hard candy.

“I was just worried, homegirl. You took off and didn’t tell us when you’d be back.”

“So?” Asia said. “Teeny’s a grown woman. And you ain’t her man.”

“She’s a trouble magnet.” Red flashed a “just us boys” smile. “Know what I mean?”

Zee straightened up. “What you mean, what you mean?”

“Red, go back to the O’Malleys’ house,” I said.

“Girlie, I can’t understand a thing you’re saying.” He spit onto the gravel. “You should see a doctor about that lip.”

“Fluck you,” I said.

“Let me interpret that for you.” Asia leaned over the railing. “Take a hike.”

“I ain’t going nowhere.” Red’s gaze swiveled back to me. “I wanna know what happened to your lip.”

“She fell,” Zee said.

Red’s chin jutted out. “Who the hell are you guys?”

“My cousin is Teeny’s bodyguard,” Zee said.

“What’s your qualifications?” Red nodded at Asia. “You got a permit to carry that Glock?”

“Red, please leave,” I said.

“Something’s happened to you. Something bigger than Irene and her insults.” Red took a step forward. “Don’t shut me out, Teeny. Why’re you trusting these people and not me?

“The lady has spoken,” Asia said.

“Well, I ain’t leaving. I’ll sleep in my van.”

“No!” My voice held in the air.

Red’s eyes narrowed. “Why the hell not?”

“You’ll roast,” I said.

“Just don’t let Irene eat me.” He winked. “Well, good night. And don’t let the bodyguards bite.”

 

twenty-eight

Red climbed into his van. The engine turned over, and a plume of exhaust curled up into the darkness and vanished. Sir and I followed Asia into the house. Zee pushed in behind us.

“I’ll take him a pillow and something to eat,” she said. “Maybe a Thermos of tea.”

Sir and I wandered to the parlor and curled up on the sofa. I heard Zee walk out to the van with refreshments. I was halfway hoping she’d bring Red back, but she returned alone. A while later, Asia went outside and set out spotlights. Light blazed through the curtains. Then he began to hammer the roof.

“What’s he doing, Zee?” I cast a worried look at the window. “Do I need this much security?”

“Probably. But Asia needs light because he’s hooking up a satellite dish. He wants to see a movie on Showtime.”

I kept glancing out the window, expecting to see Red climb out of the van to investigate, but he didn’t budge. Zee looped her arm around me. “You look exhausted,” she said.

“Yeah.” I inched my way up the stairs, gripping the banister for support. Sir ran ahead and leaped onto Mama’s old bed. I pulled Barb’s diary out of my pocket and hid it on the top shelf of the closet. I veered back to the bed and sank onto the mattress.

*   *   *

A dazzle-dance of Sunday morning light fell into the bedroom. Only a week ago, I’d climbed into the yellow van and started this strange adventure. I peeked out the window. Red was gone.

I found Zee and Asia in the kitchen, digging into leftover rice, ginger beef, and Ma-Bo Bean Curd.

“Your friend tore out of the driveway at six a.m.,” Asia said.

I lifted the toaster and gazed at my smeary, distorted image. The edge of my mouth resembled a sleek, blood-fattened leech.

“Ice it down,” Asia said.

We lolled around the house until noon, watching
The Wizard of Oz
, on AMC. Auntie Em was telling Dorothy to chill about Miss Gulch. I pressed a bag of frozen brussels sprouts against my mouth and went back up to Mama’s room. I tried to work up my courage to phone Coop. I imagined his gray beach house, a wedge of blue sky, the rocking chair on his front porch, a wooden walkway that led to the sea. I imagined sunshine spilling through his French doors, washing over law books and legal pads. I imagined his phone ringing and ringing through all of that brightness.

He always spent Sunday mornings in the dining room, the newspaper spread out on the glass table, a cup of coffee at his elbow. Beneath the table, T-Bone would be stretched on the floor. I’d spent many mornings sitting next to Coop, the scent of caramel coffee wafting between us. I could almost hear the rustle of the newspaper and the thump of T-Bone’s tail.

Sir seemed to sense my mood, and he pushed against me, making faint, growling noises. My hand shook as I punched in the number to Coop’s house. When he didn’t answer, I dialed his cell phone. Maybe he was at the beach, just him and T-Bone, no blue-blooded brunette, no picnic breakfast for two.

He answered on the seventh ring, his voice soft and scratchy as if he’d just woke up. In the background, I heard a rhythmic beeping like a microwave oven that had just finished its cycle. Beneath that noise, I heard a television.

“Hey, it’s me,” I whispered. “Your mother said you aren’t feeling well.”

A long, thrumming silence. “I’m okay. But what the hell’s going on with you?”

“Love you, too, baby sweet-cakes,” I said. “What’s that beeping?”

He didn’t answer right away. “The TV.”

“Oh.” But where was this TV? A hotel room? A bar? Chlamydia Smith’s apartment?

“Teeny, why did you run away without telling Mother and Red where you were going? How’d you hurt your lip? Who is this bodyguard you hired?”

“You’ve talked to Red.”

“He’s worried. Who are your new friends?”

“Asia Greer is my bodyguard. He’s got an MA in microbiology.”

“How’d you meet him? At a germ convention?”

“Drop the attitude, O’Malley.”

“I’m just curious. Normally, you don’t trust anyone.”

“I do, too.”

“You don’t like the meter reader on Rainbow Row.”

“He’s flirtatious.”

Coop ignored me and barreled on. “Yet here you are, letting a strange microbe man watch over you. Red mentioned a young woman, too. Who is she?”

“Zee Greer. Norris molested her.”

Coop let out an exasperated sigh. “Sounds like you’ve teamed up with someone who hates Norris.”

“No, I’ve teamed up with someone who doesn’t hate me.”

“What does that mean?”

I almost said,
Your mother hates me, and Red thinks I’m a loon.
But I refused to be a whiny bitch. Besides, I was almost telling a lie. I couldn’t break into Philpot’s Pharmacy if Red was babysitting me.

We lapsed into silence, nothing but the background beeps and canned laughter from his television. “How did you hurt your lip?” he asked.

“It’s okay. Really.”

“I’m glad to hear it. But you haven’t answered my question.”

“Where are you, O’Malley? And don’t lie. Because I know you’re not home. I called your house.”

“Tell me who assaulted you, and I’ll tell you where I am.”

My stomach tensed. I could give a watered down version of the hide-and-seek game at the Philpots’, leaving out Norris’s attack. Or I could skip to the diary. Another option was to enlighten him about the clues Zee had found in Barb’s envelope. I picked the diary. “I found the clues underfoot,” I said.

Another long silence. “And?”

“Remember how Barb used to write in her diary? She’d hidden some of the pages under the rug in her guest room. I found them. She wrote about you. Did you make love to her in the gazebo?”

I heard a sharp intake of air. “I meant to tell you about that.”

“Sure. Are you addicted to sins of omission?”

“I couldn’t find the right time to bring it up. After the incident with the prowler, I was only thinking of your safety.” He paused. “How did you get inside Barb’s house? How did you know where to look?”

“Don’t try to change the subject. We’re talking about your inability to share your problems with me.”

“I don’t want to burden you.”

“Aunt Bluette used to say that worries shared are worries halved. I can deal with your secrets. Even if they’re ugly, I can deal with them.”

“I can’t. It’s too hard for me, Teeny.”

“I’m not asking you to tell me every little thing. Only if it affects us.”

“Tell me about this diary,” he said.

He was changing the subject again, but this time I heard a note of exasperation in his voice.

“I found it under a rug.” Since I was hell-bent on truth-telling, I told him about the new clues. Cayman Islands, the lockbox, the key, the white swimsuit. “Barb left you those anagrams for a reason. If I find the clues on the drugstore wall, they might prove that the Philpots are harvesting organs.”

“Whoa,” Coop said. “Stop right there. You can’t look for anything.”

“But I think she’s hidden a document at Lester’s store.”

“If this document exists, it would be fruit of the poison tree.”

“What poison? What tree?”

“You illegally searched the Philpots’ house.”

“No, I didn’t. I was babysitting.”

“But you found the diary, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you took it.”

“Mmm-hum.” I didn’t like his tone.

“The diary is the tree. If it leads you to a document, that’s the fruit. The judge would throw out the evidence.”

“Can’t you get a search warrant and search the drugstore? I’m positive that Barb hid something on the wall.”

“You don’t understand. No judge would sign a search warrant. He would ask why I thought this document was at Philpot’s Pharmacy. And I’d have to tell him about the improperly seized journal.”

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