Designer Detective (A Fiona Marlowe Mystery) (11 page)

Cody sighed. “Come out of there.”

“Sure thing,” I said.

Jake said nothing but pushed his hand against
my back and steered me from the weapons room.

Holding the gun on us, Cody closed the door and
locked it.

“Too bad, Aunt Opal brought you into this.”

“Right,” Jake said. “I’d like to ask what this
is about but the less I know the better.”

“Smart man,” Cody said.

“I’m rather curious,” I said, demonstrating
once again a lack of common sense. “You can tell me.”

Cody smiled. “I like you, Fiona. You’ve got spunk.
Unfortunately, I’ve got to figure out what to do with you. I haven’t killed
anyone yet.”

“Let’s not start,” I said. “What are rifles
doing in there?” I was hoping they were legitimate.

“Like Jake said the less you know the better. I
got a lot on my mind right now. I got an aunt causing problems with her
fantastic stories, an uncle that died and left me with the arms business, and a
bunch of relatives that want his money, just like I do.”

“I see. Jake and I really aren’t much interested
in the family. We’ve both resigned our jobs, so you can let us go. We promise
never to say a word to anyone.”

“You were interested enough to start snooping.
That’s where you went wrong. If you had just walked out of the wine cellar and
left, you never would have stumbled across my stash.”

“You mean
,
your uncle
didn’t know about this?”

“Of course, he did. He helped finance, arrange
for the weapons, and make the sale.”

“Who are the buyers?”

Jake interrupted. “Fiona, I don’t think we want
to know.”

Cody’s smile got tighter.

“Cody,” I said, undeterred, “I promise, we
won’t say a word to anyone.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

“What about Hudson?” I asked.

“What about him?”

“How does he figure into this?”

Cody’s eyes shifted a few degrees to the right
and back. “Hudson is a superb butler who doesn’t ask questions and keeps his
opinions to himself.”

“Why don’t we discuss this over breakfast?” I
said, trying to be helpful. I needed a strong cup of coffee, at least.

“All right, move. Up the stairs and, Jake,
don’t try anything. I know you won’t, Fiona.”

Why would he say that? I must have looked
innocuous, but I was ready for a rumble. Jake looked like he wanted to be any
place but here.

It was getting light outside, I was pleased to
discover. The kitchen was clean, coffee made.
A tray of sweet
rolls and muffins sat by the coffee maker.
Hudson had neatly arranged
mugs on the counter. I wished I could afford a butler.

I poured coffee for three, and we each took a
mug to the table. I set the tray of pastries on the table nearest my seat. Cody
sat across from us at the table with the gun pointed in our direction. He acted
like he knew how to use it, too. I had a feeling I might be having my last
meal. Why-oh-why had I insisted in sleuthing around the underground? For comfort
I selected the largest cherry cheese Danish on the plate and started in,
sipping coffee between bites.

The silence was awkward. I wondered where Hudson
had disappeared to. No wonder he wanted to return to England as soon as
possible. He must have known about this from those overheard conversations. And
he could have known about the spy woman from overhead conversations though my
mind might be running away with me. Maybe Cody knew about her, although I
hesitated to ask. He might not be in the right mood.

Cody sipped his coffee and looked back and
forth between us, making me nervous. I had
another Danish
.
Sugar always calmed my nerves.

Finally he said, “Tell you what, if you help
me, I’ll see you go free when this is over.”

Jake said, “When what is over?”

“When the last of the goods
are delivered.
I could use your help. You help me, I let you go.”

I heard jail sentence at the end of that
statement.

I said, “I need some questions answered. Aren’t
you afraid some of the other relatives are going to walk in and see you with
that gun? Does everyone know about what’s in the basement?”

“They never get up before ten.
Gives me plenty of time to work.”

I glanced at the clock.
Seven.

“Who killed Albert?” I said.

He shrugged. “Maybe some folks who didn’t like
us meddling in what they considered their arms business. I can’t be sure.
That’s the least of my worries.”

“This is a dangerous business, Cody. I thought
you were a rancher?”

“I am, most of the year. We do this trade once
a year. It’s very lucrative.”

“Did Albert suck you into this?”

“No. I asked if he needed help.”

“How did you find out?”

“I spent a lot of time with Uncle Al. I was the
closest he had to a son.”

“So,” I said, “
you
must know about his affair with the woman he worked with.” I thought I’d throw
it in, see what happened.

“Who?” he said.

“The woman Opal says creatively murdered him.”

“Wow, she said that?” Cody looked sincerely
interested now. “Unbelievable.”

“Is she a real person?”

Cody’s eyes went flat when he realized I was
fishing, that I didn’t know. He shrugged. “Real as anything can be with Opal
right now.”

How was I to find this woman? I don’t think I
could just phone up spy central and ask for her. Opal wasn’t even sure about
her name.

Jake said, “I guess you wouldn’t consider
letting us go on our word. I’m not interested in this line of work. I don’t
think Fiona is either, are you?”

I shook my head and helped myself to a third
Danish. They were small. “No,” I said, “I’m best at interior design.”

Cody said, “You sure are asking a lot of
questions for not being interested.”

Jake tried to rise.

Cody motioned him down with the gun.

“Mind if I refill the coffee?” Jake said.

Cody relented. “Bring the pot over. I want a
refill.”

“Me, too,” I said.

This was all so civil.

Jake left his cup on the table and fetched the
coffee pot. He poured Cody’s first. Then, as he finished, with a deft flick of
his wrist he threw the remaining pot into Cody’s face. Cody’s arms flew up to
protect his face, and Jake smashed the coffee pot against the wrist that held
the gun. It skittered across the table.

Cody kept screaming son-of-a-bitch while trying
to clear his eyes. Jake delivered an impressive chop to Cody’s neck, and the
poor cowboy slumped over onto the table.

“Nice work, Jake,” I said.

He yanked me out of the chair. I was still
clutching the Danish.

“Which way to the car?” he said.

“Back entrance.”

We high tailed it from the kitchen, leaving
another mess for Hudson to clean up.

* * * * *

“Jake, we have to go to the police.”

We were speeding along in a line of lively commuter
traffic, going I wasn’t sure where, Jake at the wheel. He glanced in my
direction.

“Fiona, this kind of stuff is FBI and ATF
people, not a group I want to get involved with. We could get framed by Cody
and those goons he’s dealing with. I’m not willing to take that chance. I want
out.”

 
I was
perplexed. “In my world when there is wrong doing, one reports the information
to the proper authorities.”

“Not in my world. You settle things yourself. You
want to be in a witness protection program the rest of your life?”

“Depends where it is.
South Pacific Island I could go for.”

“Get serious.”

“I am.”

“Fiona, we need to distance ourselves from the
scene of the crime. Our fingerprints are on the door to the weapons room. Have
you thought about that? What do you think Cody is going to do when he comes
around?”

“What?”

“Come after us. Or have someone unpleasant come
after us.”

“I hadn’t thought about that. I guess I could
take a vacation.
 
Damnation, I never did
get a check for work done.”

“Don’t think you’re going to.”

“What will you do?”

“Can’t go back to the ranch.
My career there is over.”

“This might be a good time to visit my friends
in Australia. That might be far enough away.”

Jake nodded his head thoughtfully. “Mind if I
join you?”

“That’s a possibility. By the way that was an
impressive hand chop you delivered to poor Cody. Where’d you learn that?”

“High school.”

“Must have been some school.”

Jake grunted. No more details were forthcoming.

“Jake,” I said, “you haven’t leveled with me
about what you know. If we’re going on
a
extended trip
together, we should be honest with each other.”

We stopped at a light in a long line of
traffic. Someone kept tooting the horn. I hadn’t paid attention to it, except
that now the annoying motorist was right beside us in traffic. I caught a hand
wave out of the corner of my eye and turned to give the guy a dirty look.

It was Hudson, red-faced and yelling. I
couldn’t make out what he was saying with the window up. I debated about
putting it down. What if he had a gun?

“Jake, look.
It’s Hudson
in the car aside of us.”

Traffic was moving again, and Jake stole a
glance in my direction. He kept with the flow of traffic.

 
“He’s
yelling for us to stop and pull over. Do you think we should?”

Jake sped up and kept looking in the mirror. “He’s
behind us now.
Right on our tail.
He doesn’t strike me
as the type to be tailing us for no good reason. If he were following with some
malicious purpose, he would have kept out of sight and maybe run us off the
road into a ditch. I wonder what he wants.”

I looked back. Hudson kept throwing his hands
up off the wheel. I became concerned that he’d have a wreck.

“Maybe we should look for a convenience store or
somewhere public to pull in and see what he wants. He can’t do too much damage
in a public place.”

“You hope.”

“Do you think he’s involved in the weapon’s
business?”

Jake shook his head like maybe he was, maybe he
wasn’t. “Hudson doesn’t strike me as the kind to want to get involved in much
of anything. He’s a butler and that’s it. Though he may be caught inadvertently
in something he can’t extract himself from.”

We continued on. An Exxon sign appeared on the
horizon.

“Jake, up ahead.
A service station.
Pull in.”

Jake put on the right turn signal, eased into
the right lane. Hudson followed. He was driving the huge Rolls Royce I had seen
in the Lodge multi-car garage. Odd that he would be driving the Rolls which alone
attracted stares and glances. He wasn’t worried about being seen. Maybe he had
a message for us.

Jake pulled to the side of the station, dodging
impatient Washington
commuters
intent on filling up. He
came to a stop in front of the air pump. Hudson pulled in on my side.

“We stay in the car,” Jake said.

I pressed the electric window button. A brisk
fall breeze poured in. Hudson rolled down his window with less caution than we
exhibited.

“Hello, Miss Marlowe,” he said. “I’m sorry to
disturb you, but I wanted to give you the check for your services. You left in
such a hurry I didn’t have a chance to give it to you.”

Since I hadn’t given them a bill, I was curious.
He reached inside his coat and brought out an envelope. “I hope this is
appropriate. We appreciate what you did. I’m terribly sorry things turned out
as they did.”

I stretched to receive the envelope he offered
and opened it. The check was for $10,000, more than I would have billed.

“Thank you, Hudson. This is very generous. Are
you all right? Are you sure you should go back? Maybe you should continue on to
the airport and board a flight to England.”

His having chased us down the highway to hand
me a check well over the amount I would have asked, suggested that here was an
honest, well meaning man. I was concerned for his safety.

“I’m all right, Miss Marlowe, but I can’t leave
quite yet.”

 
I
hesitated to ask, but did. “Is Cody okay?”

“Cody?”

“Yes, he, uh, had an accident with hot coffee.
I hope he’s all right.”

“Yes, he told me you had left. He looked a bit
red-faced, I recall. I hurried to try to catch you. I certainly wish you well,
Miss Marlowe.” He leaned lower to see Jake. “And you, too, Mr. Manyhorses.”

Jake nodded but said not a word.

“I must be getting back. Good day, then,” Hudson
said.

We watched him back around and ease into the
line of traffic.

I pulled out the check again. “Jake, this check
is for $10,000. But wait.” There was something else in the envelope. “There’s
another check made out to you. It’s for $10,000, too.” I handed the check to
Jake.

He studied the check. “Silence money, I’d say,
wouldn’t you?”

We sat in grim reflection, gazing at the
overgrown tangle of trees and shrubs to the back of the parking lot.

“Jake, why would they give us
$20,000 when the estate is in such a financial mess?”

“To buy our silence.”

“I don’t know.”

“Fiona, don’t go waffling on me. This family is
into unimaginable intrigue.”

“Are you going to tell me what you know?”

He sighed. “I suspected something illicit but
didn’t know it was weapons. I found entries in a ledger book in Albert’s room.
It was an account that Hudson didn’t know about, which is why I think Hudson
isn’t part of whatever Cody and Albert were doing. The entries were large sums
of money. Like $800,000 was the smallest amount I remember.”