Splitsville.com (13 page)

“So let’s go save your business.” I don’t dare tell him about the photo with Dabi, Michael and Kent. I can’t add thief to my laundry list of quirks.

“Olivia,” he says as we walk back to our cars. “Just don’t ever use your break up service on me, deal?”

I snuggle closer. ”You have a blue aura. I love blue auras.” I roll up on my tip toes and kiss him. “It’s a deal.”

Sixteen

Is it really breaking in if I have a key? I’m not going to break anything to get in, so it’s definitely not breaking and entering. Only entering, so I feel a little better about the whole thing.

Bradley pulls into the garage. “What do these people do for a living?” Mercedes and BMWs line all the garage parking spots like a high-end dealership.

I shrug. “I have no idea. But the rate I’m going, I’m never going to get a car like that.” I point to the little black convertible Mercedes. “I’ll stick with my Toyota. You know, throw people off when I work on spying.” I smile over at Bradley.

“When you spy?” He continues to look for the visitors parking spots, “This is the last job you’re doing.”

It’s cute how Bradley is nervous about me going into Dabi’s apartment to find something, anything, to help Michael and Splitsville.com.

The visitor parking is right next to the security guard office. I can see the glow of several small televisions lined up on the desk. His back is to us.

Bradley turns off the car and points in the direction of the security office. “Do you see those TVs in there?”

I look again and the security guy motions for us to get out and walk over there.

“Those are security cameras. You be careful. I’m sure this place is lined with them.” Bradley puts his hand out for me to stay put while he walks over to the guard.

The security guard looks official in his
Paul Blart Mall Cop
security get up. He stands a foot shorter than Bradley which makes me feel better. If we need to take him down, I think we can do it.

I really wish I’d gotten something from that store to protect myself. Its times like this I need to carry some sort of weapon.

I roll down the window to see if I can hear what they’re saying.

Bradley flashes his SPCA badge. “Here to see about taking a dog back to the shelter. Apartment number 203.” Bradley is charming the attendant.

“I didn’t know they had a dog.” The guard seems a little suspicious.

“They brought one home from the shelter and I’m doing a visit to make sure it’s a good fit.” I smile. Bradley can tell a lie without flinching. I had no clue. Bradley isn’t bad at this sleuthing stuff.

The attendant pushes the gate open and points in the direction of the visitor entrance. There is a security station right before the glass doors.

Bradley comes back to the car, the security guard is watching, and retrieves a fold-up kennel. “I have to pretend to check on a dog, and this will distract the guard.” He reminds me of Frank Hardy in the Hardy Boys Mysteries.

“And how exactly are you going to do that?” I’m no big sleuth, but I don’t understand how a kennel is going to distract
Paul Blart
.

“You have to get up to Dabi’s apartment, right?” He waits for me to agree, “I noticed the cameras aren’t in the stairwells. They’re focused on the building entrances and the floors themselves. If we go up in the elevator, we can find the stair entrance on that floor. I’ll hold the kennel up in the air to shield the camera as you slip into the stairwell.”

I smile. “You
are
Frank aren’t you?” I recall him being the logical Hardy.

“Frank who?” Bradley asks.

“Frank Hardy, from the Hardy Boys.” I smile.

“Never heard of him.” He isn’t fooling. “This is serious Olivia.”

“I know, but you’re so cute.” I get out of the car and keep my face turned away from the security guard.

Bradley walks around the car. “One thing first.” He holds my head and kisses me like it’s the last kiss I will ever get. His aura is so strong and red, I squint from the glare. “What?”

“You’re aura is blinding.” I smile.

“I hope it is.” He gives me another kiss. Before we make our way into the visitor elevator.

There is silence between us. I think we are both nervous about our first breaking and entering, well my first breaking and entering. He’s just an accomplice. I wonder how much time he can get for that.

We get off on the second floor and turn left and spot the stairs sign down the hall. Of course there is a security camera stuck right in the corner. True to his word, Bradley holds up the soft tent kennel for only a second as I slip into the stairwell. My stomach turns. I sort of wish Bradley had come, but I know he’d be in the way. Besides, he needs to keep watch.

I look around for a camera before taking my hike up the stairs eight more flights. Bradley’s right, I don’t see any.

I climb to the fifth floor on a mission and have to stop. Beads of sweat form on my upper lip. I pull my hair up into a ponytail. I know I can’t stop, but my legs and butt don’t feel the same way.

Five. More. Floors.

Slowly I climb, letting my adrenaline take over.

A sigh of relief escapes my lips. Bradley and I never talked about how I’m going to get to Dabi’s apartment without being seen by the camera.

I take the key Michael told me belonged to the stairwell and open it.

“Yes,” I say in a hushed whisper. He didn’t tell me it opened up in her
penthouse
!

Michael failed to mention she had the best place in the joint. She definitely had the prettiest view in Park City. Briefly I look out the glass-wall window that overlooks the square. I can see the entire town gathered for the annual Park City Public Servant fundraiser. Twinkling lights hang around the gazebo where the band is playing and the food line is all the way down the street.

I totally forgot about the fund-raiser. Relief settles in my stomach because I know the police won’t be snooping around Dabi’s apartment. There is no way our finest are going to miss out on their annual hot dogs, beer and apple pie. I went once and won’t be going back. There is nothing more unappealing then a bunch of men who think their shit doesn’t stink sitting around and belching. Not my idea of fun.

I turn back to look for any type of clues Dabi might have left behind.

I’m pleasantly surprised to find a couple lights have been left on. I twist the cap on my keychain flash light. I don’t know what I was planning on doing with it because it gives off as much light as a lightning bug.

Dabi’s place isn’t ransacked, as I pictured it would be. I thought there’d be clothes all over, drawers hanging open where deputy dog and his hounds might’ve trashed the place. Nothing. It’s spotless.

I walk in the kitchen and my eyes follow up along the oak cabinets to the glass ceiling. My mouth drops open. I’ve heard of these but have never seen one. My eyes cross the ceiling and down the glass wall that overlooks Park City square.

I run my finger along the bookshelf wall where Dabi keeps her awards, some knick knacks from her travels and a few photos. She was beautiful. I don’t recall her being this pretty when we were in school. Granted she’s younger than me, but I’d put money on it that she’s one of those who got prettier as she got older.

She has the same picture where she’s posing with Michael and Kent. There isn’t anything else that catches my eye as a clue. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but there has to be something.

I hear the band playing in the square. I walk back over to the floor to ceiling glass wall and look out. I know Aunt Matilda doesn’t ever miss a good time. She has to be in that crowd somewhere.

I look hard to find her and smile as soon as I catch a glimpse of her bohemian strapless dress. What seventy-year-old woman wears a strapless dress? Aunt Matilda. She looks divine with a big smile across her face as she chats it up with cop Carl. I’m relieved to see her happy, but ecstatic to see her talking to Carl. I know he’s not working.

Quickly I scan the crowd to see if I can count the rest of Park City’s armed forces. “One, two.” I count the two who are gathered near the watering trough, aka, beer keg. “Where are you, Ian?” I whisper and continue to look for him.

“Shit! Shit, shit.” I grab whatever I can when I see Ian walking across the street towards the apartment building and enter under the awning.

With a couple photo albums under my arm, I grab the dog bowl by the door, spilling the contents all over the tile flooring, and take the stack of mail on the counter before I leave the exact way I entered. Through the back.

“Did you find anything?” Bradley’s waiting in the stairwell outside of Dabi’s penthouse.

“These.” I hand him the photo albums and start running down the stairs. “Let’s go. I saw Ian enter the building.”

“Pictures? Who’s Ian?” Bradley huffs down the steps on my heels. “What’s up with the dog bowl?”

We make it back to the car. I turn my head away from the window when I see Ian’s police car pulling out of the garage. “That’s Park City’s newest.” I point in the direction of the cop car. “I met him when I took the file down to Carl. He claims
Ian’s
real good at solving murders and that’s why I have to get Splitsville.com cleared before Ian snoops around too much.”

I watch Ian’s taillights turn the corner. Maybe I did have a little more time in Dabi’s penthouse. Maybe the garage let them park there for the fund raiser. Either way, I’m sure there may be some photos linking Dabi and Kent. Besides, I can always go back. I have a key.

“My brother-in-law is a cop out west. He owes me a few favors, if you ever need anything.” Bradley nonchalantly throws it out there like no big deal.

“A cop?” I immediately think about the emails. “What about tracing emails?”

“I don’t think he can trace the person, but he can get a location by the IP address.”

My phone rings putting my ideas about using Bradley’s brother-in-law out of my head. I look at the screen and see it’s Erin.

“Hi.” I’m glad to see she’s awake. “Why is Herbie barking?”

“Can you come home?” I’m alarmed by the sound of her frightened voice. “A policeman is here and he’s asking me all sorts of questions about Kent that I can’t answer.”

Bradley punches it to make it home. I leave the photo albums in the car. There is no way I am going to give them up or let the police know I let myself into Dabi’s apartment.

“Why aren’t you at the Park City fund raiser?” I bend down to pick up Herbie, whose auras completely beige. I shudder. He’s feeling upset and irritated by the presence of Ian.

“There’s been a murder, Ms. Davis, and police work is never done.” He looks towards Erin. “Don’t you find it interesting that two murders have turned up and you knew both of the victims?” He points to Erin. “Your friend here was dating one of them?”

I don’t know what he’s leading to, but I don’t think it’s nice. “You’ll find the town of Park City is very small and everyone knows practically everyone.”

“I’m just asking questions.” He steps back towards the door. “Trying to figure this out. That’s all.”

“I turned over all my files to Carl.” I’m letting Ian know we don’t trust him yet. “He has everything I know. Unless you have a warrant, you can leave now.”

He rests his hand on his Barney Fife gun and turns to walk back to his car.

I watch the police car turn the corner and I quietly shut the door. With Ian on the job, the stakes are higher and I have less time to figure this out. I have to get some real clues if I’m going to save Michael, Splitsville.com and now Erin.

Seventeen

“TKG….” I roll to my side. “TKG…”I wake myself up muttering these three letters. I groan and roll to the other side. I need to reach for my notebook, but I don’t have the energy to write it all down. Breaking into Dabi’s wore me out and I just need a little more shuteye.

I reach down and feel around for Herbie. It’s a comfort just having him by my side. I slightly open my eyes to see the time illuminated in green dots on my clock.

“TKG.” Aunt Matilda scares the bejesus out of me, standing there scribbling away in a notebook.

“Aunt Matilda! It’s in the middle of the night. How long have you been here?” I sit up and put my hand on Herbie. “Some watch dog you are.” He doesn’t even lift his head.

She closes the notebook and sits at the edge of my bed. Her hair’s pulled up in a bandana and the dangly earrings in her ears are the same bells that are on her shirt fringe. I smile at the memories of waking up several times with her staring at me. Only this time I see the worry in her eyes. The worry about how this is about me.

“A few different times over the course of a few days.” She takes out her notebooks. A ritual I know all too well.

Sometimes, well, most times, it had to do with a recent crime in Park City. She’d throw me a bone to get me to dream. She would mention things like a suspect’s name, or conveniently take me to see something, and the dreams would begin. She can read auras, but she doesn’t have dreams.

I didn’t mind. I was a mini sleuth, Nancy Drew, and for a kid that’s kind of cool. Plus I was helping out.

“Well?” I question what she’s overheard and point to the book she has behind her back.

“Something about lipstick and TKG.” She reads her cryptic writing. She quietly closes the door. “It’s all I can make out.” She turns toward the door and then back. “The older you get, the more you mumble.”

I roll back on my side.

3:30 AM.

I close my eyes and let my mind wander. I know I saw something else, I can feel it. But what?

I relax more. I take a deep breath in my nose and let it out slowly through my mouth. My mind begins to see the three letters. TKG. Suddenly they are printed across Erin’s face and her words become tattooed on my brain.

“You’re jealous because I was happy. You are jealous of my relationship.” Her eyes are dark and scare me. I know it’s only a dream, but I know all too well that sometimes my dreams are meant to tell me something.

I reach for my notebook, but pull my hand back.

“No.” I shake my head. “Those words never came from her mouth and I refuse to give them life.”

I squeeze my eyes together to make them go away-permanently.

***

This is the first outing for Erin since being named a suspect in Kent’s death. It’s taken me all day and a bribe of ice cream to get her out of the bed where she’s made a cave for herself. The lack of sleep and lack of food have taken a visual toll on her. Her black bob reminds me of a coarse horse’s tail that’s in bad need of a brush and cut. Her split ends are killing me!

Her blue eyes have deepened to grey or maybe the one-inch black circles make them look darker.

“I guess I should check my messages,” she says, turning her phone on. She’s taking a leave of absence from her party planning business until this mess is figured out. Trust me, no one in town wants their party planned by a murderer. That would definitely dampen any party excitement.

With the new no-text law, I look around for any cops, mainly Carl or Ian, before I check the vibrating cell phone between my legs. Coast is clear. I pick it up and scroll down to my messages. I’m sure it’s a new dump. All this dying business has made me virtually ignore my real business.

I stop at the red light. I know I only have a few seconds before the light turns green to read the dump and put it back between my legs.

“Are you comfy in your office? Not for long. Stop breaking people’s hearts or yours will stop beating altogether. Are you scared?” I read out loud.

“Oh my god! Let me see that.” Erin’s mouth is wide open. She grabs my phone.

The guy behind me in a pickup starts to beep, “Go! Green means go!” he screams and continues to lay on his horn.

I put the pedal to the metal and give a couple friendly birds to the guy behind me.

“Let me have your phone!” I grab Erin’s phone out of her hands before she can object and immediately dial Bradley’s number. I continue to drive and hold Erin’s phone to my ear all at once. So much for the new law.

“Hi, Erin.” I ignore Bradley’s happy greeting. I glance between the rear view mirror and ahead of me, making sure there are no cops around to pull me over for being on the phone.

“No, it’s me. Listen carefully.” I need Bradley to concentrate on my words. “I just received a new threat and they obviously don’t know where I live because they said ‘I’m watching you in your big office right now. Are you scared?’ And I’m driving.”

I know I didn’t get the threat word for word, but he gets the gist of it.

“Hold on. I’m on it.” I can hear Bradley clicking away on the computer, getting into my website, where he can pull up the information he needs to send to his brother-in-law to trace the email. “Coffee Bean.”

Without looking I make a complete illegal u-turn. Thank God no one is around.

“I’m not even a minute from there.” Thank goodness for quick technology, favors and a good brother-in-law. I hurry, knowing I will soon be face to face with the person who’s threatening me. And without the police’s help.

Bradley’s voice quivers, “I can’t come. I’m the only one here.” He is still at the SPCA.

With no time to spare, I punch it. I am going to end this once and for all. My poor little Toyota. I rub the dash. “Don’t fail me now.”

I pull into the parking lot on two wheels and find a spot right near the door. I run into the Coffee Bean as quickly as my feet will carry me and wend my way through the lunch crowd line. I know exactly where the computers are.

Back corner.

I’ve used it before on a couple dumps when my computer was getting fixed.

The chair is pushed back, a steaming cup of coffee sits by the keyboard and no one is there. It’s like they vanished into thin air. Like they knew I was coming.

Surely one of these customers had to see someone on the computer. “Did you see who was on the computer?” I grab the guy’s arm at the table closest to the monitor and point to the full coffee mug.

“No.” The man sounded annoyed, and jerks his arm out of my grip. “What’s wrong with you?”

I turn to the rest of the table. “Excuse me, did you see the person who was on the computer?”

Everyone shakes their head no and I notice the people at the next table talking about the crazy girl.

“What crazy girl?” I ask one of the women who are staring at me. “Was she at the computer?”

“No honey. They’re talking about you.” She gives me a sorrowful look.

I take the mug of coffee and head to the exit. Cop Carl is standing with his arms crossed and legs spread apart.

“What’s the rush?” He doesn’t break his stare.

I snarl and then laugh. “Aren’t those a little too Starsky and Hutch?” I point to his black driving gloves. I remember Aunt Matilda loved watching that show every Wednesday night. She would squeal like a little girl when they caught their man.

“You aren’t tracking your own email threats are you?” He peers over his 1980 Ray Ban sunglasses with a smug look on his face.

The look is enough to send chills up
and
down my spine, but I have to look away in fear of seeing his aura. I don’t have time to play around when I know his aura is totally authoritative.

“How do you know about those?” I growl and worm my way around him. “If you want something productive to do, besides following me around, you should solve the unsolved murders.”

I can’t believe he knows about the emails.

On my way out the door, I dump the contents of the mug and take it with me. I don’t know why, but it seems the thing to do. Evidence, test it for DNA like they do in CSI. One small problem, the only science kit I have is the small test tube kit I got has a kid.

“Olivia.” Carl steps outside the door and jerks my arm to stop me. “You need to leave any threats to us to solve. This isn’t for an amateur.” He takes his sunglasses off and gives me the sternest fatherly look. He shakes the piece of paper in his hands at me. “I know you’re trying to save your business, but you’re also getting death threats.”

I tighten my lips together and wiggle my arm from his grip and storm back to my car.

“Did you see that woman in the baseball cap?” Erin turns completely around in her seat looking out the back window.

“No.” I keep my eyes on Carl who continues to stare at me. I look away and take a closer look at the mug.

“I swear it was
that
girl.” Erin turns around and puts her head next to mine and looks at the mug. “Ugly lipstick.”

“Look! Lipstick!” I hold it up and put it back down. I see Carl straining to see what I am talking about. I’m not about to do all his work.

“I know, I just said that.” Erin backs away like I’m crazy. The rose color is stamped on one side of the mug. The left. So she is a right-handed coffee drinker.

“The girl that slapped Kent. I swear she walked out as soon as you walked, er, ran in the Coffee Bean.” She points to the door.

“What?” I jump back out of the car and look for the girl she’s talking about. Is she the one sending me death threats? Is she the one who killed Kent and Dabi? “Oh my God!” I stop for a second and stare out the front window. “TKG.” I whisper out loud.

“TK who?” Erin questions.

I get back in the car and ask Erin, “What’s Kent’s full name?”

“Terry Ken…”

I stop her. I know exactly what she is going to say. “My dream.” I slowly turn my head and my mouth flies open. “The initials in my dream and the initials Aunt Matilda wrote down. TKG, Terry Kent Goodwin.”

“What does Kent have to do with your dreams?”

I have no way of explaining how my brain works. With the mere mention of Kent’s name, those initials pop in my head like hot kernels of corn. “Terry Kent Goodwin used Splitsville.com to dump a girl named Brittany because she had Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.”

“Shut up!” Erin begins to scream and bounce in her seat. “Do you think she’s the killer? Do you think she set me up because he was dating me?”

“I don’t know.” I start the old Toyota and put Ian out of my mind. “But we are about to find out.”

I pull out of the lot and head back home. I’m quickly finding out there’s more to solving a murder than putting names together. I know I have the baseball-cap woman’s information from using the website. It shouldn’t be hard tracking her down.

“What about the ice cream?” Erin asks.

“I think we have sherbet in the freezer.” I assure her. I’m not about to stop now. We are on a roll.

***

“Terry Kent Goodwin” I repeat as my fingers touch each file tab.

I glance over at Erin who’s looking through the files on the desk. Herbie stares at us.

“Got it!” Erin screams and holds it up in the air.

We hunch over my desk. “Let’s find out about this dump.” I open the file and immediately remember what a pain in the ass Brittany was.

Oh, how I remember that perfectly put together red head. I also recall what some people think about red heads, “they are hot headed” and “a woman scorned is worse when she has red hair.” Brittany’s definitely been scorned.

“I remember her.” I rub the photo in the file. I pull the file up on the computer.

“OCD?” Erin laughs, “No wonder he loved hanging out at my messy apartment. I think I need to rest.”

I continue to read through the file and ignore Aunt Matilda as she jingles into the room.

I pull up the audio and the first words out of her mouth sting just like they did the day she said them, “Is he cheating on me with you?”

Aunt Matilda grabs my arm as soon as the words leave Brittany’s mouth. We continue to listen.

“That first line is haunting.” Aunt Matilda reminds me. “There no better motive for murder or threat than a jealous woman.”

I look into Brittany’s eyes. Aunt Matilda is right, it is the reason for the death threats? But murder?

I click off the file because I think we have everything we need.

I look at Aunt Matilda. “Did you tell Carl about the email threats?” I’m hoping she didn’t, but deep down I know the answer.

The answer is written all over her face before she even says it. “You’re all I’ve got and I’m not going to sit around while someone threatens your life. I don’t care how much a job means to you. Your life means more.”

I can’t help but have some sense of relief. I thought I’d be mad, but she’s right. She’s always right. Still, someone’s still trying to link me to the murders and I’m going to find out who.

***

While everyone’s still tucked in bed, the early morning sun wakes me up. I let Herbie out in the backyard, but not before looking to make sure no one is out there. I make my way to the kitchen to start the coffee pot.

Brittany’s dump file is right where I left it. On the counter. I thumb through it again, hoping something will jump out at me.

I hear Erin shuffling down the hall. “Can’t sleep?” I ask her and take a mug out of the cabinet. “Do you want some coffee?”

She still has the hollow eyes and the faraway look. “No. I checked my messages and the police want to see me. I’m definitely a suspect. They said someone came forward. The person heard us fighting at the bar that night.” Slowly she lifts her face and looks at me.

“Do you remember what you said?” I can’t imagine what she’d say to make her a suspect. “Of course you were angry, but it doesn’t mean you killed him. Heck, I’d be angry too if I saw Bradley kissing some girl.”

“I…” she sobs, “I didn’t tell you all the fight.” She pulls out the bar stool and sits down. Her shoulders are slumped.

I lean over and pat her hands. Her crystal aura is a clear as ever. “Nothing can implicate you.”

“I told him I hated him and could kill him for what he’s done.” She puts her head in her hands and continues to cry.