Furry Godmother believes in equality.
Diamonds are everyone’s best friend.
Jack walked me to the door at my parents’ house while typing on his phone. The cuffs of his black dress shirt were rolled to his elbows, and he’d removed his jacket and tie. All formal pretenses of a proper detective were cast aside. Beside me, he was a bull ready to charge.
The sky was unnaturally dark, a poetic reflection of his mood and my building anxiety. I missed the snarky, even-tempered guy who’d threatened to arrest me so many times. This guy was on edge, and it did nothing to soothe my frayed nerves.
Wind whipped dirt and flower petals into tiny hurricanes around our ankles. The rising humidity had twisted my hair into clown proportions and plastered my dress to my body.
We reached the door, and he didn’t look up.
“Everything okay?” I asked, squinting against the growing gale. “Is that bad news you’re texting about?”
The clench and release of his jaw answered my question. Yes. Something was very wrong. So wrong it had the undivided attention of a normally vigilant man. “Jack?” His refusal to answer bit into my unraveling composure. “What’s wrong?” The words dove off my tongue, louder than anticipated. I unlocked the back door and waited.
His eyes flashed up from his phone to meet mine. The crystal blue I’d come to enjoy suddenly looked lethal. Dark emotion marred his handsome face. “I need a rain check on dinner. Something’s come up.” He handed me the bags he’d carried from my car. “I want you to stay inside and call me if you need anything.”
“What came up?”
“A thread I started pulling after you found that burnisher is paying off.”
“What does that mean?”
He tipped one side of his mouth into a menacing smile.
A burst of wind whipped hair into my eyes and pulled the bags in my hands. “I’m just supposed to sit and wait? You won’t tell me what your hunch was?”
“Hang tight.” He turned away.
“Hang tight?” I followed him to the driveway. “Am I safe here? Are my parents?” Maybe I should go back to my house. If someone came after me, it would be better if they only got me, right? The coward in me said no. There was strength in numbers and an excellent alarm system here. Plus guns.
He pointed to the door behind me. “Go inside. Set the alarm. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Let your parents know what’s going on.” He turned and jogged into the brewing storm.
“Hey!” I called after him, waving my hands overhead. “I don’t know what’s going on!”
The first fat drops of rain broke on my head. I jerked my phone from my pocket and texted Jack.
Be Careful.
I stood dumbfounded until his taillights vanished in the distance.
A blast of thunder cracked the heavens, and I nearly dropped my phone.
Dad’s office door popped open across the lawn. “Lacy? Did you just scream?”
“Maybe.” I slunk to his side, blinking rain from my eyes. “Jack dropped me off and told me to go inside and set the alarm, but he didn’t tell me why he had to leave or what it was that called him away.”
Dad scanned the twilight. “Well, how about I make some tea?” He locked his office door and escorted me to the house. “Why don’t you have an umbrella?”
I shrugged. “They’re like tiny lightning rods.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough. I’m going to give your mother a call and let her know what’s going on.”
“Good. I’d love to know.” I dragged my packages inside and set the alarm. “Are you telling her to come home?”
He laughed. “That would be the surest way not to see her until Christmas.”
I filled the teakettle with water and cranked up a blue flame on the stovetop. “She’s probably better off staying wherever she is until the storm passes. It’s gathering fast. Plus, I don’t know if we’re safe here. Jack couldn’t have been more ambiguous if he’d tried.” I set the kettle on the flame. “Do you think he’s intentionally vague, or am I too high-strung?”
“I think you could use some tea. Try chamomile.” He dialed his phone and left the room to speak privately.
I checked the dead bolts on all the doors and pulled the curtains on the first-floor windows. Angry winds howled at the glass. Thunder shook the earth. I checked my phone for a response from Jack.
Nothing. Shocker.
I unpacked my things on the dining room table while I waited for the kettle to whistle. Tea wasn’t my thing, but Dad loved it, and I probably didn’t need more caffeine. My brain had swam in enough adrenaline this week to make me half loony. I sorted my materials into piles and ordered them for a streamlined assembly.
With my shop closed twice, plus my complete inability to sleep, I’d caught up on my orders and decided to make my Vive La France line after all. Who wouldn’t want to see poodles in berets and skirts? Literal poodle skirts. The concept was adorable. I had to have it. If life stayed this way long, I’d finish Vive La France by Christmas and have my peacock line ready in time for Mardi Gras.
“Where should I begin?” I gathered a pink felt semicircle to use as a skirt mock-up and chose my embellishments. How could anything be wrong in the world when I got paid to make clothing for fur babies?
Nothing made sense anymore.
Dad emerged from the kitchen with two mugs. “You never stop.”
“Sorry. I didn’t hear the whistle.”
“I don’t mind being useful, especially to my little girl. You’ve always gotten lost in your designs. I think the pieces you made for my clients when you were young are half the reason my practice became so popular.” He set one mug on the table beside me. “People brought their pets in for shots and left with a new tie or hair bow for their kitten or puppy. Do you remember those?”
“They were awful.”
“You were a kid. A big-hearted kid with a flair for the dramatic. You were my world.”
I stopped to hug him. His soft cardigan warmed my cheek. “I wanted to be you when I grew up.”
“Well, I’m glad that didn’t work out. I’m an overworked, underpaid man in love with his profession but with no time for a life.”
Look at that. I did grow up to be my father.
“Do you remember the skirt we bought you in Paris when you were eight? It was covered in script. Words from a book, I believe, and it had a ring of crinoline underneath. You twirled and twirled in that skirt.”
“I still have it. It was the piece that made me want to design my own things and make other little girls glamorous. It’s the inspiration for this new line.” I’d made an entire catalogue of French-inspired doll clothes the month we came home.
“It’s good you have an outlet. People get caught up, living in their heads all the time, and they’re miserable.”
“I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t do this.” My mind had always been too busy for my own good. I’d drive myself crazy without books or projects to occupy my thoughts, and that was before a killer hunted me. Without an outlet at the moment, I’d go berserk.
“I hope you like chamomile. We could both use a little Zen, I think.”
I sipped the warm comfort, and my shoulders slipped a little lower. “What about Mom? Will she be home soon?”
“Your mother could use a gallon of Zen, but she’s with the Animal Elegance committee finalizing event details. They’re probably on their second case of Pinot Grigio.”
I inhaled another breath of the sweet steam and set my cup aside. “The parade committee put away a few dozen mint juleps the other day. How do these women get anything done when they’re all snockered?”
“It’s a gift.” Dad headed for his den. “High tolerance. Let me know if you need anything. I’m going to sit and put my feet on the ottoman while there’s no one here to boss me around.”
I arranged fabric swatches and appliqués on the dining room table, imagining the ways I could make them sing. A line of crinoline would be cute on the skirt, but pets rarely tolerated scratchy fabrics. Maybe a soft tulle or lace instead? I set the felt over various materials as a visual aid.
The mention of Animal Elegance sent my thoughts in a new direction. Was I ready? Mrs. Neidermeyer had her tutus. I’d make her pupcakes that morning and take them fresh from the oven. My weighted crystal bowls and bottled water were set aside in the storeroom. The tuna tarts and turkey tots could be made in advance and frozen. I had a striking dress selected and my most comfortable heels.
The rest of my to-do list was done, except for decorating the Chicks’ pianos. My finished kitten capelets were riding shotgun until the next parade committee meeting, when I planned to deliver them to Cecelia Waters, and hopefully impress the other members as well. With any luck, Cecelia would pay in cash, and others would be inspired to place an order.
I lined straight pins in my teeth and mocked up a skirt and two blouses for small- to medium-sized pets.
If Jack’s hunch was a dud and the whole case fell apart, I needed a plan B for Furry Godmother. Thanks to the cash from Mrs. Hams putting me on retainer and the fat check from Mrs. Neidermeyer, I had the lease covered this month, but what about next? Maybe a website with online ordering options would be enough to keep me going. There would be virtually no overhead. I could work from home if I lost my lease space. I didn’t need an expensive lease on Magazine Street to succeed. I could chase my dream from home. Make my own hours. Use my spare bedroom as a workspace.
Thunder rattled the windowpanes, and I dropped a needle onto the carpet. I plucked it up and placed it on the table. I’d loved storms until Katrina. That summer changed everything.
The ghastly memories of hopelessness and fear drove my thoughts back to the subject of who wanted to hurt me and why.
I fed a needle with fuchsia thread and lined black-and-white beads on the table. I needed something that looked more Audrey Hepburn and less Katy Perry. I dragged my little bead box into reach with my fingertips and dug knuckle deep in the glass beads and rhinestones. “There you are.” I lifted a package of Swarovski crystals and turned them over for inspection.
A tiny ember of an idea blazed to life in my mind. “Crystals.”
Five days of hell crashed through my brain in fast-forward. There was no evidence of a break-in the night Miguel died because he came in with a key. I flipped my phone over and activated speed dial number five.
“Oliver,” he barked. Wind blew into the receiver.
“Jack!”
“Lacy? Is everything okay?”
I shook the bag of crystals. “I’m fine, but I think I know what happened to Miguel. He stole the key to my store from Mr. Tater the day he was killed.”
“What?” A car door slammed on Jack’s side of the call. The storm quieted.
“Mr. Tater came in that afternoon and told me the Gallery was robbed. His jewelry store.”
An engine revved to life on Jack’s end. “What else did he say?”
“Not much, but that’s why I’m calling you. I have a theory. My store might have been the location for a drop in a two-person operation. If Miguel came to make the drop, a second person could have ransacked my store when he came to look for whatever was dropped by Miguel. Mr. Tater had a key to Furry Godmother. He kept one when we signed the lease agreement, but he’d never used it. He said he was robbed. I think Miguel took the key.”
“You think it was a drop?”
“What if Miguel hid the stolen goods in my store and someone else was coming to get them? Or what if Miguel planned to play both roles? Maybe he came into my store that afternoon looking for an unlikely, easily penetrable place to stash the jewels he stole. He needed a place he could get in and out of. Someplace with no alarm or security system. I think he planned to come twice. Once for the drop and again to recover the stolen goods when he’d covered his tracks. He was used to working with a partner, so this might’ve been something he and Levi had done together. He’d keep doing what worked. People are creatures of habit.”
“You think he made a drop for himself.”
“Yes. I think looking over his shoulder was probably second nature for Miguel. He must’ve known he was being followed, or at least had the instinct to bury the bone for later. He was a thief in a new city, with stolen jewels in his possession and someone on his tail. He needed somewhere safe to stash the goods until the heat died down. Preferably a place that another thief wouldn’t link to him.”
“Like your store.”
“Exactly.”
“Got any theories on who killed him?”
I wetted my lips and sipped my tea. This was where my imagination had probably gotten off track. “It’s rough, but yeah. I think someone might have followed him into my store that night and killed him for the goods.”
“You think a second criminal stalked the first one to steal the stolen jewels.”
I couldn’t tell if his exasperated tone was meant for me or himself.
“Why not?” I said. “If I wanted stolen diamonds, I wouldn’t want to break into a jewelry store. They have tons of security. I’d find out who was stealing jewels and then rob him. It’s not like the thief could go to the cops. If Miguel had already hidden the jewels, then the killer might’ve come back the other night to look for the jewels. I didn’t know to look for hidden jewels in my stockroom, or else I might’ve found them.”
A long pause stretched between us.
“Or,” he finally added, “maybe whatever Miguel stole is still there.”
I dropped my head back. Recognition dawned. “Oh my goodness. I know where the jewels could be.” There was one place I hadn’t looked. I’d been too busy. “Can you find out what Mr. Tater reported stolen?”
“Depends. Can you tell me where to look?”
I pushed the crystals aside and went to look out the window. “How’s the storm?”
“Getting better. Why?”
“I want you to meet me at Furry Godmother in twenty minutes.”
Jack groaned. “Why don’t I stop by and get the key from you, and you can tell me where to look.”
“No. I want to look.”
“You’re safer where you are,” he grouched. “Why are you determined to get hurt on my watch?”
“This isn’t about you. I want to see for myself. If I’m wrong, I’ll feel stupid. If I’m right, I want to celebrate.”
“Someone still wants to hurt you. Stay put and I’ll video chat you from the store. You’ll be able to see everything I see from the safety of your parents’ fortress.”
“No.”
Silence. “Lacy.”
“Jack.” I imagined him rubbing the skin off his forehead.
“Fine, but I have conditions.”
“First, I’ve got another stop to make before I can meet you. I need you to wait an hour before you leave your parents’ house, or you have to let me pick you up.”
“No. I’ll meet you in an hour.” A coil of anticipation turned in my tummy.
“I shouldn’t have expected you to take the better option. Fine, but if you drive yourself, you have to agree not to get out of your car until you see me. In fact, don’t shut down your engine until you see me. Drive away if anyone approaches you. Understand?”
“Yes.” I stomped my feet in silent victory. If I were right, he’d see I was valuable to this case and smart. I’d redeem my family name when a positive article printed in the paper. Assuming they didn’t accuse me of planting the jewels so I could pretend to find them.
“I mean it,” Jack rattled on. “Don’t leave your parents’ house for an hour, and don’t get out of your car at the studio without me present.”
I nodded at the empty room. “Fine. I agree.”
“Lacy?” There was a new strain in his voice.
“Yeah?” I barely endured the pause. My muscles tensed and itched with anxiety.
“We know who killed Miguel.”
“What? Who?”
“Hayden. We ran down all our leads after talking with her, but nothing panned out. Every alibi fell apart. We searched her apartment and found a stack of photos of Miguel. She’s been following him for weeks. There were intimate pictures of him and Sunshine. It was ugly. She had a truckload of motive, and we pulled a string of escalating e-mails between her and Miguel from her computer. She’d threatened Sunshine and the baby more than once in an effort to control him.”
Panic crushed my chest. “Is anyone with Sunshine right now?”
“Yeah. We’ve got her at the station until we bring Hayden in.”
I released a shaky breath. “Hayden could’ve followed Miguel into the alley and confronted him or just followed him to hurt him somewhere there weren’t any witnesses.” Hayden had followed her cheating boyfriend into my store after hours. “The clerk at Frozen Banana said she was a regular, and someone assaulted my store window the day after Miguel was killed.” That had definitely been her smoothie on my window. “Maybe there’s security video footage of her from Frozen Banana or another camera on the block.”
“We’re already pulling footage from that night, and we’re canvassing the city for her now. Wherever she is, you don’t want to run into her. She’s not stable.”
“I’ll meet you in an hour.” I disconnected and busied myself clearing the adorable assembly line on my parents’ table. Cleaning was something I’d always found soothing but had fallen short on a few tasks this week. Clean dishes were still not unloaded from the dishwasher. Laundry overflowed my hamper. I also hadn’t made time to clean the turtle tank, and that beautiful lagoon of glass marbles could easily hide a plastic pouch of diamonds. I knew Brad and Angelina could have cracked the case if they could talk.
My phone buzzed on the table. Mrs. Neidermeyer’s number appeared on the screen.
I responded with slight indignation. What did she do? Put them back on the dogs after I left? I’d rehung them, personally.
Me: I have somewhere to be in an hour. Can I stop by in the morning?
Mrs. Neidermeyer: Absolutely not. We have an eight AM dress rehearsal. You will come now.
Jeez. I slung my purse on one shoulder and checked the time. I was in the middle of my own crisis at the moment.
On my way.
The tutus could wait, but Animal Elegance was the biggest performance of the year for Mrs. Neidermeyer. It was a huge deal to her, so I needed to make time to care. If I picked the tutus up on my way to meet Jack, I could bring them back with me tonight and make the adjustments. I’d deliver them early in the morning with coffee and a smile.
Dad blocked the kitchen doorway, arms crossed. A deep scowl wrinkled his usually pleasant face. “Where do you think you are going?”
“Out. I won’t be long. I’m meeting Jack at Furry Godmother.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Why?”
“I’m following a hunch.”
“Why isn’t he picking you up? The weather’s awful.”
“I insisted.”
Thankfully, he relented his position as jailer and stepped away. “Don’t go inside the shop without him.”
I frowned. “You, too?”
“Always. Be careful. Let me know how it goes. Call when you get there so I know you’re safe.”
“Deal.” I slid around him. I could’ve told him about Hayden, but I didn’t have time. Mrs. Neidermeyer was already sure to hold me up.
He crooked an arm around my neck and kissed my forehead. “I mean it. Call or I’ll worry.”
“Yes, sir.” I kissed his cheek and hurried into the storm.