Heather Webber - Digging Up Trouble

“What’s Plan B?” Jean-Claude asked.

“Growl,” I said.

“I don’t think this is in my job description.”

“Are you even still working for me?”

“Am I?”

“How about part-time? Afternoons? We’ll work from there.”

He smiled. “Sounds good. Um, how are we going to get into Growl? It doesn’t open till later, right?”

I knew just the person.

Thirty minutes later a grumbling Riley was in my truck.

“This is wrong,” he said. “It’s my day off. I wanted to sleep in.”

“Nine-thirty is sleeping in.”

Digging Up Trouble

229

“In old people’s time.”

“You calling me old?”

“If the Metamucil fits.”

Jean-Claude laughed.

“You’re not much younger than I am,” I pointed out to him.

He stopped laughing.

“You can sleep in tomorrow,” I told Riley.

“Ginger always wakes me up for pancakes.”

“Life’s tough,” I said.

“Ginger?” Jean-Claude asked.

“Dude, don’t ask her.”

“Good advice.” I pulled into the empty Growl parking lot.

Riley hopped out, let us in. “What are you looking for?”

“We’ll just be a minute.”

The office door was closed but unlocked. I turned on the light, pointed to the closet door. “Go ahead,” I told Jean-Claude.

He opened the door. “What am I looking for?” he asked.

“Mayonnaise?”

I peeked over his shoulder. Sure enough, the three barrels of mushrooms were gone.

I should have known! Bill knew Kevin would come back with a search warrant. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to show Kevin the blackmail letters. Had he opened the closet, Kevin would have seen the mushrooms.

“Bill took them out two nights ago. Right after you and Dad left,” Riley said from behind me.

I jumped. My heart pounded. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” Then I realized what he said. “Took what out?”

“The mushrooms.”

“You knew about the mushrooms?”

“Not until you said you overheard him scheduling a delivery. I knew something weird was going on around here, but didn’t know what.”

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“Well, it’s of no use now. I can’t even say for sure if they were the hallucinogenic kind.”

“I’ve got one,” Riley said.

“What!”

“I came in and took one that night. I had a feeling. I was just waiting to show Dad.”

“Where is it?”

“At home.”

I looked at Jean-Claude. “Plan C.”

“Do I get a raise for this?” he asked.

“No.”

I followed the two of them out the door and was just about to turn out the light when I spotted something on the floor, caught under the door.

The corner of an envelope. I tugged, ripping a gash in it.

But the words on the front were still clear. “Bill Lockhart.

Personal.”

Maybe the officers executing the search warrant had dropped one of Bill’s blackmail letters by mistake?

I turned it over.

Sealed tight.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

“Nina? You coming?” Riley called.

I stuffed the letter in my waistband, pulled my shirt over it.

As I closed up behind us I wondered how it was possible for Greta to blackmail Bill from the grave.

My mother was a bit surprised to see us back so soon. Very surprised, if the way she was blocking the doorway was any indication.

“Mom?”

“Yes, chérie? ”

“Let us in?”

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231

“Now’s not a good time,” she said, trying to look noncha-lant.

Hmmm. What went wrong now?

“Look, there’s Gérard Depardieu!”

Her eyes widened and she craned her neck. I pushed past her. Half my living room ceiling was on the floor.

“Whoa,” Riley said.

I looked at my mother. “A little complication from the water leak the other day.”

I practiced Tam’s Lamaze breathing again.

Riley ran up the stairs, came back down a minute later, a hard-hatted man behind him. His tool belt jangled. “Mrs.

Ceceri,” he said to my mother, “the upstairs is not safe. Until we get a structural engineer in to assess the damage, the whole place really isn’t safe.”

My eyes bulged. I think a vein popped.

“Now now. Riley is staying with his father for the weekend. You can stay with us. I’m sure the problem will be cleared up by Monday.”

Mr. Hard Hat looked like he wanted to debate that point, but my mother gave him the Ceceri Evil Eye and he backed away.

Stay with my parents. Oh, Lord.

My mother must have read my thoughts. “Or with your sister,” she said.

A newlywed.

She sighed. “Or with Ana.”

Not with a half-naked Dr. Feelgood hanging around.

“Our house, then,” she said. “It will be fun!”

“You can stay with me,” Jean-Claude offered.

I almost took him up on it.

“What’s that you got there, Riley, chérie ?” my mother asked. She pried open Riley’s hand, stared at the mushroom.

“Yep, that’s it,” Jean-Claude said.

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My mother’s eyes widened. “Riley Michael. A mushie?”

I gaped at my mother. Was I so behind the times that she’d known what one was and I didn’t?

“It’s not mine,” Riley said.

“Then whose is it?”

He thrust it toward me. “It’s Nina’s.”

Hmmph. So much for “Mom.”

Twenty-Six

I drove around until I finally found myself parked in the St. Valentine’s lot. I figured fate had led me here, and I should go in and see Father Keesler and get it over with. Instead I cranked up the air conditioner and tried to think clearly.

I’d dropped Riley off at Kevin and Ginger’s early. And I left Jean-Claude at TBS. He’d volunteered to man Tam’s desk for the day, and I took him up on it. There had been a message from Kit, calling in sick. He had the flu.

I’d called him back. He sounded terrible. “And BeBe won’t stop licking me.”

“She just loves you.”

“You’ve been waiting for that, haven’t you?” he said, coughing.

“All week.”

Icy air blew my hair around my face. I gathered it back into a ponytail and held it there.

Facts. I needed to weigh the facts.

Bill was a drug dealer.

Bill was being blackmailed.

Dale was being blackmailed.

Russ was dead.

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Greta was dead.

Poor Boom-Boom Vhrooman was dead. I couldn’t say I was going to miss her, but I still felt bad that she’d died.

Bill’s illicit activities, his blackmail, and Boom-Boom’s death were definitely tied together.

Dale’s blackmail only related because his letter and Bill’s were identical in appearance.

The same person, right?

I’d thought so. Until I found that letter in Bill’s office this morning.

I wiped sweaty palms on my jeans, reached for the blackmail letter. Slowly, I opened it.

BILL, DEPOSIT THIRTY-FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS IN THE FOLLOWING ACCOUNT BY

NOON FRIDAY OR I WILL GO TO THE POLICE.

The account was to a local bank, the numbers meaning nothing to me. I thought about calling the bank to get more information, but knew I’d never get anywhere without a name to go with the account.

Though I had a pretty good idea who it belonged to.

My cell rang. Kevin. “Just talked to Riley,” he said.

“Oh?”

“What have I told you about breaking into places?”

“Not to leave my prints behind. Besides, it wasn’t break -

ing. We had a key.”

“Nina, if I have to put you in lockup, I will. A murder investigation is going on. Stay out of it.”

“Murder? Did Russ’s tox reports come back?”