Dashing Through the Snow (14 page)

Read Dashing Through the Snow Online

Authors: Lisa G Riley

Tags: #Multicultural, #caper, #bwwm, #Mystery Suspense, #comedic romance, #missing gems

Smith ran, his long legs catching up to Jimmy
pretty quickly. He grabbed his arm. “Don’t even try what you’re
thinking,” he said in a low threatening voice to the other boy.
Jimmy seemed to recognize the threat, because he held up his hands
and retreated to chase after Jenny Packard.

Smith spotted Lily and went after her. Taking
her arm once he’d caught up to her, he turned her around to face
him.

Surprise when she saw him cut Lily’s excited,
but nervous-sounding giggles off mid-stream. He felt her freeze,
watched her swallow and was surprised when she said, “I’m not going
home until I get my first kiss. And if you try to make me Smith
Cameron, I will make your life miserable for the entire
vacation.”

He sighed. “You’d do it, too,” he muttered
angrily. “All right, you want a kiss, you got it.” And before she
could voice an objection, he lowered his mouth to hers. He didn’t
kiss her the way he’d learned to kiss from his ex-girlfriend
because he didn’t want to scare her. Softly, he pressed his lips to
hers and then slowly pulled away. He did that several times, his
lips lingering a bit longer each time. She stood there, frozen, but
he’d taken her wrists in his hands when he’d first caught her and
now he felt her pulse practically running away with itself. Since
she seemed unable to move, he angled his head and drank some more
from her mouth. Finally the renewed sounds of loud giggling brought
him back to himself and he pulled back. He felt her sigh shudder
across his lips and looked at her.

Eyes wide, she stared back at him, looking at
him as if she’d had a sudden realization. She licked her lips. He
cleared his throat, whispered, “Sweet. So hard to believe that such
sweetness could come from the mouth of a brat. Now come on,
sweetness,” he demanded with as much sarcasm as he could muster as
he transferred his hold from her wrist to her hand. “I’m taking you
home.”

For the first time ever in his memory, Lily
meekly did what he told her to do.

 

As Lily was following Winscoff up the stairs
of the Businessman’s Social Club, Smith was folding his long length
into her cousin John’s single visitor’s chair at the police
station. “I appreciate this, John. You could really help me out on
this case.”

John grimaced. “We’ll have to see about that.
I don’t know exactly how much help I can be with this.”

“Meaning…?”

“Meaning I got diddly squat on the man.
According to his wife, he has no enemies in his personal life and
he’s the company buffoon, so he’s no threat to anyone there as far
as I can tell. The man is just gone. Officially, the department is
chalking this disappearance up to a man leaving his wife.”

“And unofficially?”

John looked hard at him. “There is no
‘unofficially’, Toast. The man is just gone.”

“Well, I’m bound and determined to find him,
whether he left of his own free will or not. And there’s a ten
thousand dollar bonus in it for me when I find him before
Christmas.”

John nodded his head. “Yeah, I heard about
that. I also heard you’ve got yourself a little competition out
there,” he said with a smirk.

Smith grinned, making little lines fan out
from his eyes and wrinkle in his scar. “Yeah, Lily-bud’s on the
case. It wasn’t hard to figure out we were working the same case
after talking to Aunt Glenda.” He leaned back in his chair,
stretched out his legs and folded his hands on his stomach. “I
can’t wait to see what the neophyte detective can do.”

“You’re not mad or worried?”

“Nope. Why would I be either of those things?
Don’t get me wrong; I was mad at first when I realized my client
was pitting me against another detective, but I would have been mad
had it been anyone, not just Lily. Then I realized the fact that
it’s Lily makes things all the better for me. I probably don’t have
anything to worry about. She’s too new at this.”

John arched a brow. “Aren’t you the one who
just the other day warned me about underestimating her?”

“Yes, but you underestimate her based on
misconceived notions and moronic chauvinism.” He caught the balled
up paper John threw at him without missing a beat. “I, on the other
hand, am basing my knowledge on pure fact. Lily is inexperienced;
there’s no getting around it.”

“Whatever you say. I just don’t want her
hurt. Maybe I should block her when she comes in to see me, you
know, keep the little bit of information I do have from her.”

“No, don’t do that,” Smith told him. “If
you’re thinking it will get her to quit, I can tell you
unequivocally that you’re wrong. I’ve never met anyone more
stubborn than Lily, and if you stopped to think about it, you’d
realize that you haven’t either.”

John sucked on the toothpick he’d stuck in
his mouth. “I wish there was a better way to control that
girl.”

Smith chuckled. “I’m still trying to figure
out why you feel the need to try. Lily is an adult. Yes, she is
your baby cousin, your baby
girl
cousin, the only one born
this generation, blah, blah, blah… yada, yada, yada. Get the fuck
over it. Jesus, can you imagine how you’d feel if everyone in your
family treated you the way you treat Lily? What your life would be
like? I bet that’s probably why she left and stayed in Chicago for
so long.”

“A lot of kids leave home to explore. Lily
did that and then found a job that kept here there.” John
shrugged.

“Bullshit. Lily loves Sheffield-Chatham like
I love Texas. It’s in her blood.”

“Yet, this isn’t Texas but here you sit,”
John said and Smith could tell it was meant to be an opening for
him to elaborate on why he’d left Texas. Smith didn’t take it.

John sighed. “At any rate; Lily’s home now.
She came back.”

“Only because she loves the town, but I
wouldn’t be surprised if she left again. You have to stop treating
her like a child.”

“Have you?”

Smith thought about the time he’d spent with
Lily the night before. “Oh, yeah,” he said, “long ago.”

“I’m not even going to ask what
that’s
supposed to mean,” John commented and pulled his chair forward.
“So, tell me what you want, Smith.”

“I assume you guys already checked to see if
Landry has a record.”

John nodded. “Yes, we have. The man is as
clean as a whistle, never even got a traffic ticket.”

“Have you traced his credit card purchases
over the last few days? Have any been made?”

“We’re in the process of doing that. Mrs.
Landry has agreed to it, but there are still hoops to jump
through.”

“You’ll let me know when you get something,
yeah?”

“Sure, sure, but have you got a signed
contract with Mrs. Landry? I’ll need to see it, and I’ll need to
put in a call to her to make sure it’s okay to share information
with you.”

“Understood. The contract’s in the car. I’ll
go out and grab it after we’re done here. Now, let’s talk about Mr.
Landry’s car.”

 

***

Lily skirted around the edges of Town Square
as she made her way to The Tobacconist, a small high-end cigar
shop. She’d determined that of all the shops ringing the Square,
The Tobacconist was the most logical place for Mr. Landry to shop
on a regular basis. It fit in with the view she was getting of him,
that of a man of leisure. Furious, Lily muttered to herself and
strode through several small crowds of people who were standing and
talking in their own little groups.

“I can’t believe him!” Feeling slightly beat
down after her encounter with Winscoff, Lily had decided to go see
her cousin at the police station to find out about Landry’s credit
cards and other things surrounding the case. But John had refused
to see her, having his secretary tell her he was tied up in
meetings. Lily knew he was lying because she’d snuck a peek at his
calendar on the secretary’s computer, and had seen that he was free
the entire afternoon. And what made matters worse was she knew he’d
talked to Smith already. The secretary had mentioned it.

“Lying jerk,” she said under her breath as
she pulled the door to the cigar shop open. The shop was fragrant
with the smell of tobacco, of course, and crowded with humidors.
There seemed to be one everywhere she looked. She almost bumped
into a display touting a brand as ‘the best mild cigar for your
money and smoking pleasure’. She avoided the humidor – just barely
– right before noticing a woman of medium height dressed in green
standing behind a counter. She was attractive with short black hair
and eyes to match and a trim figure. Lily guessed her to be about
her parents’ ages. She made her way towards her, grateful that
she’d have the woman’s undivided attention as the store appeared to
be empty of customers.

“Hi,” Lily said when the woman looked up and
offered her a friendly smile.

“Hello, madam. How might I help you today?
May I say that that is a stunning coat you’re wearing?”

Pleased, Lily preened as she fingered the red
wool of her newest winter coat. It was classic in style with a line
of small ruffles marching down the front so that when she closed
it, the snaps were covered. The ruffles continued upward to wrap
around the standing collar. She simply adored it. “Why, thank you.
I got it --”

“Looking for a special Christmas present for
that special man in your life?” the woman continued, “Father,
husband, boyfriend, uncle?”

“No, thank you. I…” Lily paused as she
thought about it. Her uncle Ray did like an occasional cigar.
“Actually, yes, I might be looking, but first, I wondered if you
would answer a few questions for me. My name is Lily Carstairs, I’m
a private detective and I’m looking for someone.” She put the photo
of Charles Landry face up on the counter. “Do you recognize this
man? And if you do, when was the last time you saw him?”

The woman barely glanced at the photo.
“That’s Charles Landry. He’s a regular customer, one of my best.
And the last time he was in here was Friday apparently.”

Lily felt the spark of hope that had crept in
her mind begin to fade. “Apparently?”

The woman nodded. “I’m Mrs. Tamara Popkin. I
own the place, just opened it three years ago when I moved here
after my grandfather died and left me the storefront. See, this
used to be a haberdashery, but I decided that nobody was buying
hats like they used to, so I thought I’d try something else and
you’re looking at it. But I don’t guess you want to hear about all
that, do you? You want to know about Mr. Landry. I said apparently
because I wasn’t here on Friday, so I didn’t actually see him
here.”

She went quiet and just looked at Lily as if
that explained everything. Lily waited and finally realized she’d
have to ask for the most important information. “Buuuut someone
else was and did,” she guessed.

“Yes. My manager, Kip. See, I don’t work on
Fridays. I like to get my weekends started early and on a positive
note and some of my customers are so persnickety that it would be
difficult to do that after dealing with them. But, Mr. Landers
there?” She paused to tap her finger against the photo.

“He’s one of the nicest men I ever did meet.
‘Cause he’s quiet and polite, see. Sometimes, I don’t even know
he’s here until I look up and he’s standing right there in front of
me, if you take my meaning. It’s sorta eerie-like, you know what I
mean? But other times I’ll catch a glimpse of him outside before he
comes in and he’s just wandering around the Square or studying the
old well, just like most people. But even then, I’m lucky if I see
him because he’s just so ordinary… no, no, he’s
less
than
ordinary, if you take my meaning. I guess I never thought about it
before, but yeah, that’s what he is: less than ordinary. But even
so, I’m real sorry that he’s gone missing, because even though he’s
about as noticeable as white paint – if you get my meaning – he’s a
likeable little guy.”

Lily squinted against the pain that suddenly
pounded behind her eyes. “Uh, so is Kip here right now?”

“Yes, he’s here. Kip never misses a day of
work.”

“May I talk to him?”

“Certainly, hon,” Mrs. Popkin said. “Come on
around,” she told Lily and held a swinging half-door open for her.
When Lily walked through, she let the door go. “He’s right back
here. It’s kind of cramped, but you’re a skinny one, so you’ll
fit.” She turned toward the door marked Office behind her. “Kip is
back there with another private detective – a tall drink of Texan
water, that one, and the way he fills out a pair of Levis…well, all
I can say is it behooves me to remember that I’m a married woman,”
she finished and turned back to Lily with a conspiratorial
smile.

Lily tried to smile back, but
damn it,
damn it, damn it!
She’d figured that Smith had beaten her to
this lead, as well. It stood to reason since he had gotten the case
first, but she could still feel the slow boil of frustration over
the fact starting to settle in. She sighed and waited for Mrs.
Popkin to finish what she had been about to say when apparent
near-adulterous lust had so rudely interrupted the thought process.
“But you were saying,” Lily prompted.

Mrs. Popkin looked baffled for a moment and
then chuckled. “That’s right; I was talking about something else,
wasn’t I? My husband always tells me that nobody can go on and on
about nothing like I can and I guess I have to agree with him. But
anyway, he’s the one – that detective, not my husband – who told us
that Mr. Landry is missing. And I don’t see why you can’t be back
there in the same meeting with him and Kip, seeing as how you’re
both looking for the same person.” She was reaching for the knob
when the door opened. Smith sauntered out with a wide grin on his
face. Lily rolled her eyes.

“Why, thank you, Mz. Popkin,” he drawled in a
particularly heavy twang. “Nothin’ like opening the door to find a
pretty woman waitin’ for you on the other side.”

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