Lie or Die: A Shelby Nichols Adventure Page 4

  Hmm…if he was the one spying on us, wouldn’t he be thinking he’d gotten away with it? He did seem to know an awful lot about it, though. Could it be him?

  Doug left to get a ladder, and Uncle Joey motioned for me to follow him to his office. After he closed the door behind him, he sighed. “Remind me to never talk to you unless we are in my office, and the door’s closed. Was it Doug?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “His thoughts are hard to read, but he wasn’t thinking that he’d gotten away with it, so I guess not.”

  “Then that means it has to be Nick,” Uncle Joey said.

  “Not necessarily,” I interjected. “It could have been any of them. They were all wearing dark suits.”

  “That’s true,” he conceded. “But out of them all, who would do it?”

  “Nick,” I said. “Because he was the most interested in what I do for you.”

  “I don’t know if he heard enough to tell him what you do.”

  “Even if he did, how could he believe it? I mean, who reads minds for Pete’s sake?” I shrugged. “Whoever it was may not have been close enough to hear that much anyway. We weren’t talking that loud, and the corner isn’t real close to the conference room.”

  “True,” Uncle Joey said. “There’s not much we can do except have you listen to their thoughts next time, and see if you hear anything then.”

  “Right,” I agreed, already dreading my next visit. “I really miss Ramos. If he were here, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  Uncle Joey took that hard. Maybe he shouldn’t have sent Ramos off so quickly. He had friends in Seattle, but he didn’t want them to know Kate had taken his money and gotten away with it. No, Ramos was his best choice, and until he got back, he’d just have to make do. “He’ll be back soon, maybe this weekend if we’re lucky.” He was hoping Ramos would find Kate, and bring her back with him. That would make it all worth it.

  “All right, well…I’ll see you later.” I stepped toward the closed door.

  “If anyone in my organization talks to you, I want to know,” Uncle Joey said. He was thinking it would be a sure sign of guilt.

  “Okay,” I answered. “Bye.” I marched out the door with quick strides, eager to get away. I got to the elevator and punched the button, realizing it would be a huge mistake on my part to ever let my guard down around Uncle Joey. He had not only put me in my place earlier, but I realized he was all that stood between his men and me.

  If they ever found out what I did for him…what? What would they do? Try to use me against him? That wouldn’t work so well. Besides, they were all on the same team, right? They might want to use me for their own purposes, but Uncle Joey wouldn’t let that happen. We had an agreement. It made me that much more indebted to Uncle Joey, and it was definitely to my benefit that he stayed alive and well. So much for ever escaping him.

  I found my car and decided that instead of wallowing in my misery, I needed to compartmentalize my life. Yes, I was involved with Uncle Joey, but that was just a small part of what I did. I had a job to do and lost money to find. It was time to concentrate on the success of Shelby Nichols Consulting Agency.

  I pulled my car out of the parking garage and centered my thoughts back to the lost bank money. The lingerie shop wasn’t far, and I was eager to see what it looked like. A few minutes later, I found it in a little strip mall off Main Street.

  The “Novelty Creations” sign hung above the big windows where mannequins wearing sexy lingerie were prominently displayed. I opened the door, and a little bell rang, announcing my presence. A young woman came out from the back and greeted me, telling me to let her know if I needed any help.

  At the moment, I was the only customer in the shop, so I took my time to browse through the tables of underwear. The first table had a nice assortment of styles and sizes, but the second table was not what I expected. Now I understood where the ‘novelty’ part came in. Embarrassed, I quickly put the underwear down, and decided to talk to the clerk.

  “Did you find what you needed?” she asked.

  “Actually, I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of questions,” I said. “Are you Dottie Weir?”

  “No,” she answered. A blanket of suspicion covered her thoughts. “Why do you want to know?” Was I from the insurance company? She’d already filled out everything they wanted.

  “I’m a private investigator, and I just wanted to ask her a few questions,” I said, hoping to put her at ease.

  “Well, that’s going to be hard, since she’s dead,” she answered. “What’s this about?”

  “She’s dead?” I asked, feeling my stomach drop. “When?”

  “About a year ago.”

  “Oh.”

  “I inherited this shop,” she said. “I’m her daughter, Emily. Maybe I can help you?”

  If she was her daughter, did that mean Keith was her cousin? I’d have to be careful. “That would be great,” I said. “I’m actually here about some lost money that I’m trying to find.” I listened to her thoughts, but only detected mild curiosity. Might as well get it over with. “I understand Keith Bishop worked here for a while. Did you know him?”

  Her mind closed up with anger. “Yeah, he was my cousin.” She put it together. “So you’re looking for the money he stole? Are you with the police?”

  “No. I’m working for the bank he robbed. Do you have any ideas or thoughts about where the money might be?”

  She was thinking that Keith was responsible for her mother’s death, and that she’d always suspected he’d used the shop as a cover for something illegal. But after he went to jail there was nothing going on, so it couldn’t have been true.

  What did she mean by that? “What was Keith’s relationship with your mother? Did he have anything to do with her death?”

  “I’ve always thought so…although he didn’t exactly kill her,” she said, but the fact that I asked made her want to confide in me. “She died of a heart attack, but Keith was here the night she died, and they had a huge argument. At least that’s what Uncle Dean told me. He’s Keith’s dad, and my mom’s brother. Mom called Dean after Keith left, and that’s when she had the heart attack. Dean called the paramedics, but she died at the hospital a few hours later.

  “Dean was so mad at Keith, I thought he was going to kill him. But he never got the chance. Keith was arrested the next day. Since mom died, Dean’s been trying to make it up to me. We’ve become partners in the business. He does all of the accounting, pays all the bills for the store, and keeps track of inventory. You know, all the background stuff. All I have to worry about is the sales end of the business. I don’t know what I would do without him.”

  “I’ll bet,” I agreed. “It’s great to have someone to lean on.” Whoa, this was big. Could Dean be the partner? If he was, how could he have his own son murdered? “How did Dean feel when Keith was murdered?”

  “It was bad,” Emily said, her mouth curved into a frown. “It broke his heart. He was always hoping that it was a mistake, and that Keith had nothing to do with the bank robbery. I think deep down though, he knew the truth.”

  “The police think Keith’s partner had him murdered. Do you have any idea who his partner might be?”

  “No,” she said. “Keith never brought anyone around here, and I’m glad he didn’t.” She was thinking that Uncle Dean had never been able to figure it out either, even though he’d spent a lot of time looking. They’d even checked out his old girlfriends.

  “Could it have been a girlfriend?” I asked.

  “No. He had lots of them, but I don’t think any of them could have been his partner.”

  “Why not?”

  “He never had a steady girlfriend,” she shook her head. “They were just flings. He wasn’t good at long-term relationships.”

  “That makes sense,” I said. “Can you think of anything else?”

  “No. But if he hid the money, he didn’t hide it here. I’ve been through everything, and I would have
found it by now.” She’d looked everywhere, even tearing out the walls and floor in the back room looking for a false opening. It wasn’t here.

  “I see,” I said, somewhat discouraged. “Well…I can’t thank you enough for talking with me. I’d like to talk to your Uncle as well. Is there a good time to catch him?”

  “He has a day job, so he’s only here in the evenings,” she said. “I’ll give him your number if you like, and he can call you.”

  “That would be great. Here’s my card. Feel free to call me if you remember anything else.” After handing her my card, I held up a pink teddy. “Can I buy this?”

  She smiled. “Sure.”

  As she was ringing up my purchase, the bell rang, announcing another customer, and I was grateful I’d gotten in my questions while no one was there. I thanked her, and turned to leave, nearly stumbling into Rob Felt.

  “Will you stop following me?” I asked, jerking back a step.

  “Nope,” he answered. He was thinking that I’d been in here a long time, and figured it had something to do with the money. He’d ask the clerk as soon as I left.

  I was tempted to tell her not to say anything, but she was thinking he was a jerk, so I didn’t have to. I stepped around him to leave, and realized he was wearing a dark jacket. Just like the one I saw at Thrasher Development. Was he the person eavesdropping on Uncle Joey and me? If so, that meant he had to know of my connection with Uncle Joey. How could I ask him about that?

  “You’re just wasting your time,” I said. “I’m working on another case, and it has nothing to do with the money.”

  “We’ll see about that.” He didn’t think I had any other cases, so that was a bunch of crap. He glanced around, thinking the lingerie shop was probably a dead end, but he’d check it out anyway.

  “Whatever,” I said under my breath.

  Stepping around him, I hurried out the door, and got in my car. Where next? If Felt was following me, now was my chance to lose him. I pulled into traffic and headed to the police station.

  Chapter 3

  Walking into the police station, I paused to straighten my new ID badge. Detective Harris, or Dimples, as I called him, had given it to me after I’d helped him solve a case. This was the first time I’d worn it, and as I made my way to Dimples’ desk, I glanced around to see if anyone would object to my presence. I got a few looks, but most people just acted like it was normal to see me there. Upon reflection, it probably was, since I’d been to the station often enough in the last few weeks.

  I caught sight of Dimples across the room, just as he was picking up the phone. I listened to his thoughts, and realized he was about to call me. Thinking it would be a funny joke, I hurried to his side and tapped his shoulder. Keeping a serious expression on my face I said, “I’m here. What do you need?”

  “Sweet…mother!” he shouted. “I was just calling you. How did you…? Wait a minute. Whoa…that was just weird.”

  I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. “Sorry,” I said in-between giggles. “But you should have seen your face!” I finally got under control, especially when I noticed he didn’t think it was so funny.

  “So you’re not here because of your premonitions?” he asked, embarrassed and slightly confused.

  “Oh…yes, I am.” I decided it was better to lie at this point, mostly so Dimples wouldn’t be embarrassed. “I hope that’s okay.” When he just nodded his head, I continued. “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. It was just…I couldn’t help it, and it was kind of funny.”

  “Yeah,” he smiled. “It probably was.” He was thinking that living with me would be tough if I did that very often. It gave him a new respect for my husband.

  “So…look at this.” I lifted up my badge. “Looks good, huh?” It was time to move on. I didn’t want him feeling sorry for Chris, since it made me feel bad.

  “Hey. Looks great!” he said. “I knew it would come in handy, especially if you’re going to sneak up on me.”

  “Exactly!” I agreed. “So you’d better watch out.” He laughed good-naturedly, and we were back to normal. “So, what did you need me for?” I asked.

  “Um…right,” he said, switching gears. “I’m helping the FBI with some gang interrogations, and thought having you there might be helpful. I just finished talking to them about it, and they gave me the go-ahead to ask you. That’s why I was calling.”

  “Oh,” I said. “That would probably work for me. Do you know any more about the case?”

  “Not a lot, just that there’ve been several murders lately and no one’s talking.”

  “Gotcha,” I said. “Are they doing the interrogation here?”

  “No, at FBI headquarters. I was going to see if you could go over with me a little later, but since you’re here we could go over now. Will that work?”

  “Sure,” I agreed. Since I’d come to ask him what he knew about the police investigation of Keith Bishop, I could pick his brain when we got back.

  “Great. Have a seat, and I’ll call to let them know we’re on our way.”

  Fifteen minutes later we walked into the federal building. I’d never been inside before, and when they asked to see my badge, I got nervous since it wasn’t exactly real. The worker scanned the barcode, and my picture must have popped up on his computer screen, because he was thinking I looked a ton better in person. What? My picture wasn’t that bad was it? Maybe I’d better get a new one.

  We took the elevator to the sixth floor, and I followed Dimples through a maze of desks until we came to an office that had the name Henry Gilmore on the outside. Dimples knocked, and Henry ushered us in, introducing himself as we sat down.

  “Detective Harris told me about you,” Henry said. “That you have premonitions about things.” He smiled, but was thinking it was probably a waste of time. “What do you need to do? Hold an object like the murder weapon or something?” He was thinking that’s how they did it in the movies.

  “No,” I said. “It doesn’t work like that. At least not for me.” I glanced at Dimples, and he nodded encouragingly. “I have to be in the same room with the person who’s being questioned to get anything off them.” I suddenly remembered the FBI agent who had been watching my house when the Mexicans were after me, and how he thought I was a good ‘reader’, so I went with that. “It’s like I can read them…if they’re lying…you know, or hiding something…stuff like that.”

  “Oh,” Henry perked up. That was something he knew about. That made sense, but there were a lot of people who could do that, and it didn’t help much since most of the gang members they were questioning wouldn’t talk.

  “That’s when I usually get premonitions about them,” I said. “When they’re being questioned. Even when they don’t say anything.”

  He took a big breath. That was just what he’d been thinking. Maybe there was something to me after all. He decided to take a chance. What could it hurt? “All right. Let’s try it out. How do you need to do this?”

  I explained that I needed to be in the same room, and asked for a pad of paper so I could write down my impressions. “I’d rather not speak to him myself or say anything,” I explained. “I want to stay anonymous.”

  “Okay,” Henry agreed.

  Given my history, Dimples thought that was a great idea.

  “I also might have a question for you to ask,” I added. “But I can write that down, and hand it to you.”

  “Anything else?” he asked.

  “Nope, that should do it.” I turned to Dimples. “You’re coming, right?”

  “Sure,” he said, happy that I wanted him there. It was like we were partners or something. He liked that.

  I followed Henry down the hall into a room with a desk and video cameras set up to record the interview. This room had the two-way mirror into the interrogation room. With video feed and monitors, it was a lot more high-class than the police station. Two agents were manning the cameras, and after pushing a few buttons, nodded that they
were ready to go.

  Henry turned to me. “You ready?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  He held the door open and ushered us toward the table. After we sat, Henry motioned for the agents to bring the gang member in. Two agents entered, holding the arms of a beefy young man whose hands were cuffed in front of him. His jaw was set in defiance, and his cold, dark gaze glared at Henry, then shifted to include Dimples and me. They sat him down in a chair opposite of us, and fastened his cuffs to the table.

  “Hey Derek,” Henry said.

  Derek sneered, thinking how much he hated being called that. Razor was his name now. He was wondering what new ploy Henry was going to try this time. Not that it would work. Switch was blood, and he’d wet up anybody who got in his way. He wasn’t tellin’ nothin’.

  “Your crew’s had a hard time of it lately,” Henry began. “What’s going on? You lost your shot caller, and now it looks like you’re all tuned up.”

  “What?” Razor asked.

  “Switch is dead,” Henry confirmed. “Want to tell me about it?”

  “No. He’s not dead. I just saw him.”

  “He’s down in the morgue right now. Who killed him? Bloodhound?”

  “What? Are you messin’ with me?” Razor answered. Shock spread over his face. He was thinking that if Switch was dead…it changed everything. Bloodhound was the only one who could ride on Switch, but he wouldn’t have killed him. Someone was threatening his territory, and it wasn’t anyone from around here, not with the truce. He had to find out who did this and make them pay. “You chargin’ me with somethin’?”

  “Obstruction of justice, if you don’t tell us what’s going on.”

  “Man, I don’t know,” Razor whined. “I keep telling you that. Whatever’s going down’s got nothing to do with my hood.”