Tiger's Eye (13 page)

Derek crossed his arms, lifted his chin, and adjusted an invisible hat in an attempt to look all badass gangsta.

When I turned back around the man was just a few feet behind me. “Can I help you with something?”

His eyes sparkled with curiosity. He had a grease-stained rag in his hands and he was polishing a brass pipe, but the rest of his appearance gave the impression of a freshly retired teacher ready to hit the links.

“Pipe!” Derek screamed.

I turned around and gave Derek the OK sign.

He nodded.

“You in some kind of trouble?” the man asked me.

There were about thirty different ways to answer that question and I was ready to start with the very bad man and his endless supply of ammo, but my savior pushed me gently aside and said, “My stars! Son, what happened to your foot?”

Well, hell.

That was all it took. Derek ogled his bloody appendage, shrieked, and collapsed to the ground like a deflated balloon.

I turned to smile at the man whom I hoped would let us in his house.

I quickly ran through a false scenario. We were lost, had been in the heat all day with nothing to eat or drink, then Derek stepped on God knows what, and when we stumbled across a tractor it was do or die.

I left out most of the “die” part. This guy had heard and seen enough.

He rushed to help me carry Derek inside and we laid him on the cool tile in the foyer. I could see what had
impaled his foot. A generous portion of a broken beer bottle.

“This is my studio, you see. I don’t have too many luxuries. No Internet, no kitchen, but there is a bathroom and a landline. In the far corner of the bathroom”—he pointed down a short hall—“there are some old towels.”

I thanked him and ran to wet a towel down. When I came back, he was on the phone and I knelt to tend to Derek.

“Yes, it looks like a puncture wound. I am at fifty-three Blue Diamond Drive. My name is Frank Moriarty.”

I dropped the towel.

He hung up after giving the emergency operator a few more details.

“Did you say Frank Moriarty?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Moriarty. That was the name of Lolly’s Jack.

The phone rang.

Frank answered it and said, “Yes. Yes. She is. Would you like to speak with her?” A pause, a confused look.

I mopped Derek’s head with the wet towel.

“All right.” He hung up.

I continued taking care of my fallen colleague.

“Um…” Frank said.

“Yes?”

“Well, I assume from the description given to me that you are Stacy Justice?”

“I am.”

“Would you mind telling me then, seeing as you’re in my studio and all, why the police chief asked me to detain you?”

I had to think fast. Thing was, there was really no good reason why this man should not usher me right out the door but…

“Does the name Lolly Geraghty ring a bell?”

He hesitated, seeming to recall a faraway memory. “My stars, I haven’t heard that name in years.” He scratched his closely trimmed beard. “She was a friend of my cousin’s a long time ago.”

“Your cousin?”

Derek began to stir and I fought the urge to kick him.

“Yes. Jack disappeared years ago. Right before he was to marry Lolly. Did you know her?”

The redirection was working. He no longer seemed to care that I may have been a fugitive.

“She’s my great-aunt. I’m told they were quite an item.”

Frank sat down on a bench. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about any of that. You see, Jack disappeared close to fifty years ago and we weren’t from town. My parents lived outside of Chicago.”

“So what brought you here to Amethyst?”

“My grandparents left me this land when they passed. I always enjoyed the area, so on one visit I bought a little cottage in town and decided to use this land for my workshop.”

There was a knock at the door. “Paramedics.”

Derek was just coming to, but he saw the green glass protruding from his foot and passed out again.

The paramedics rolled out a gurney and gently lifted Derek onto it. Most of the EMTs in Amethyst were volunteers and I recognized the young woman. “Stacy, did you want to ride with him?”

“Oh, um…” I glanced at Mr. Moriarty. He didn’t seem too eager to detain me. I reached inside my bag for my card and handed it to him. Then I pulled out the notebook and said, “Would you mind jotting down your number? I’d like to repay you somehow and plus”—I pointed out the window—“let you know when the tractor will be removed.”

He held up my card. “You know, I thought you looked familiar. I’ve read your articles in the paper.” He grabbed the notebook and scribbled in it, then handed it back to me. “And don’t mention it. That’s what neighbors are for.”

“How about I write a profile piece showcasing your work?”

“Sounds great.”

And maybe I could find out more about what happened to his cousin.

They got Derek settled into the ambulance and I climbed in after him.

We passed Leo’s car on White Hope Road.

He caught up with me at the hospital.

“Do I even want to know why you stole a tractor?” he asked me.

I was in the waiting area outside the emergency room flipping through a copy of
Guns and Ammo
.

“I didn’t steal it, I borrowed it. I’ll return it to Mr. Scoog.”

“You going to return his bird too?”

That got my attention. “Liberty didn’t go home?”

“Who is Liberty?”

“That’s the name of the bird.”

Leo sat down across from me and removed his sunglasses. His face was mostly tanned except for a slight strip where the bridge of the sunglasses covered his nose.

“All I know is that he tried to call you several times but it kept going straight to voice mail so he got the idea in his head that you ran off with his bird.”

I chewed my lower lip. This was not good. I would feel absolutely horrible if something had happened to Liberty. After all, she may have saved both Derek’s life and mine today.

It would be all my fault too.

I swore softly.

“Look, forget about the bird. I’m sure she’ll turn up. And Gus brought the tractor back to the property. So”—he leaned forward—“are you going to tell me what happened?”

I met his gaze, trying to read his face. I couldn’t tell if he was holding a busted flush or a full house.

I pretended to fumble through my bag for my phone, explaining that I was in the market for a scooter and I heard Mr. Scoog had the best deals in town.

Okay, I am not proud of the fact that I became a pathological liar, but I wasn’t ready to show my cards to Leo yet.

Finally I felt it. I peeked to make sure the stone in my hand was the blue topaz I had been fishing for. It was. I was getting pretty good at recognizing the gems by touch since they were all different shapes and sizes. Not that I carried many in my workbag, but in my business, extracting the truth was important and blue topaz not only does this, but it aids in shedding light on uncertain situations. Since the path I was about to take with Leo was a dangerous
one, or at the very least a stupid one, I needed all the help I could get.

I tried to tune him out for a moment as I focused on the question to the stone.

Topaz, blue and bright, what is his truth, where is my light?

“A scooter,” Leo said. “Why was Derek with you?”

“He wanted a Coke machine. I hear they’re collectable.”

Leo nodded as if that made perfect sense. He must not have seen the one bullet that hit the tractor. At least not yet.

“Then what happened?”

“We got lost.” I shrugged. “Look, it was scorching hot and we had very little water and that place is acres wide. And then Derek…”

Leo’s face softened. “Then Derek got hurt.”

He was offering his own explanation. His own theory. That was unusual for him, but great for me.

“So you panicked, saw the tractor, and went for help,” Leo said, finishing the story.

From inside the bag, I squeezed the topaz hard in my hand.
Was this the right decision?
I didn’t want to tell Leo anything yet for one reason and one reason only.

He would try to stop me from investigating my father’s death. And in my mind, at that moment—while the topaz grew cold as ice in my palm—I knew it was murder.

I had my truth.

And no one was going to stop me from seeking justice.

No. One.

Chapter 17

“Dogs are wise. They crawl away into a quiet corner and lick their wounds and do not rejoin the world until they are whole once more.”

—Agatha Christie

A plump nurse wheeled Derek into the lobby. His leg was propped up and a big white boot had been slapped over his foot. “He’ll probably be fine with some ibuprofen for the next couple of days, but we gave him Vicodin for now to ease the pain.” She glanced at Derek, whose head rolled around on his neck. “Of course, he can’t drive.”

“I can take him home,” Leo said. “Thank you, Sandy.”

Leo went to sign some paperwork and I looked at Derek. “Hey, buddy, how are you?”

He smiled, a trail of spittle running down his cheek.

“I’m happy. Can we get ice cream?”

I knelt down, hands on my knees. “Sure we can. Hey, do you remember what happened today?”

“We saw a big bird. I like her. Where’s the big bird?”

“Do you remember what else happened?”

If he let it all slip out, that would throw a huge wrench into my plan.

Derek smiled, then immediately frowned. His eyes widened and he said, “Oh yeah! We got sho—”

I covered his mouth with my hand and whispered in his ear. His eyes grew wide, he looked at his foot, and he passed out.

What can I say? A girl has to use every tool in her belt.

Leo strolled over and said, “All set. Did you want a ride to your car?”

“Nah, I’ll help you get Sleeping Beauty tucked in and then if you could just drop me at the cottage, I would appreciate it.” I had to get away from him before the enchantment faded away.

Leo hesitated. He looked at me as if he was forgetting something, but he shrugged it off, put his arms around me, and gently squeezed. “Glad you’re okay.”

“Thank you.”

We eased Derek into the backseat and headed for his apartment. The manager let us in, since all his belongings were still back in my car. It didn’t take long to get him all tucked in and I told Leo that I would come by and check on Derek later. Then he dropped me off at my place.

It had been hours since Thor was let out and he was ready to burst. In fact, he was pissed off that I left him home in the first place and told me by whizzing all over the porch.

“You know, sometimes you can be a real tool.”

He harrumphed and ran off to investigate the shrubs.

I plugged my phone into the charger and checked my messages after I fed Thor his dinner. One was from Chance, saying he would pick me up at seven, there were three from Mr. Scoog, and one from Cinnamon telling me that there was a great band playing tonight and that I should stop by the Black Opal.

By the time I called Scoog back, Liberty had returned home unscathed and he wondered why his tractor was parked on the front lawn. I told him about Derek’s foot injury and how it was difficult for him to walk and that seemed to smooth things over. He asked if Derek wouldn’t mind stopping by for a playdate with Liberty sometime soon.

“She really seemed to take to that fella,” Scoog said.

“I’ll set it up,” I said.

It was six o’clock when I poured my tired body into a bubble bath.

By seven, I was coiffed, fluffed, plucked, and ready to be wined and dined.

Of course, that’s when I realized I’d forgotten to make the reservations.

I frantically dialed every nice eatery in town, from the French Bistro to the upscale Italian place with the white cloth table settings and the floating candle bowls.

“Sorry, we’re all booked up” was the consensus.

My makeup was flawless, I was wearing my favorite little black dress with the rhinestone embellishment, red platform peep-toe heels, a silk shawl, and my hair was curled into a sexy updo.

Needless to say, I was not happy that the only place with an open table was Pearl’s Palace, famous for its Friday night fish fry and rotating pie carousel.

“Don’t worry about it,” Chance said when he picked me up. He looked dashing in his gray suit and herringbone tie.

“I’m so sorry. It’s been quite a day and I just didn’t have the time.”

Chance cocked one eyebrow at me as he drove down Main Street. “Well, you’ll have to tell me all about it.”

Where would I start?

I asked him to stop by Derek’s before we went to the restaurant.

I hurried up the stairs to his apartment and was happy to find my coworker still sleeping soundly, so I rushed back to the car and Chance parallel parked into the first spot we found a few blocks from the restaurant.

Pearl of Pearl’s Palace was a vivacious woman in her early sixties who kept her hair frosted, her nails painted, and her skirts frilly.

“Fancy seeing you here all dolled up, Stacy Justice.” Pearl loved to say my full name and, truth be told, I liked the way her Texas twang made it sound like a song.