Chapter 9

“Now, our joy, although our last and least”

 

 

The sidecar fit Delia like Michael Phelps’s swim pants. Becca sat behind Bogart, and neither she nor Delia wore helmets. They wore bug-eyed goggles. 

Keeping to the back streets, it took them forty-five minutes to get to the Barcelona lighthouse in Westfield. Bogart was hauling buttski. He didn’t seem to think they made good time, however, because, at one of the stoplights, he gazed at both of them and said, “I feel like I’m dragging an anchor. Which one of you gained weight over the weekend?” 

The ice cream!

It was past nine o’clock, and moonbeams glimmered on the lake on the right side of the road. There were trees and more trees, with a house here and there. Soon they’d be able to see the Daniel Reed Pier, but Delia smacked Bogart’s arm and pointed to the side of the road.

He pulled the bike onto the shoulder —which put the sidecar on the rutted track beside it. Delia removed her goggles and stared at the house kitty-corner to where they’d parked. Straight across from them were grass, fern oak, and pine. Lots of it. 

Pulling her butt out of the sidecar, Delia stood on the shoulder next to Bogart. Becca stood on the other side of him. They all watched the house across the street. It was a single-story ranch-style with a broad front lawn and gravel driveway.

“What do we do now?” Bogart whispered.

“We surveil,” Delia said.

Becca shifted her weight. “How can we surveil? We’re too far away.”

“You’re right. We should get closer to the house.” This from Delia, who already had her eyes on the overgrown woodland next to the house. She pointed to the grove of kudzu and pine trees. “We can stay along the tree line and then see into the house.”

“This feels an awful lot like peeping tommerie to me,” Bogart said, setting his helmet on the handlebars of his bike. “I approve, of course.”

Delia ignored that. “Okay, we need to be fast and focused. We see Mate and then return to the motorcycle to call the police.”

They crossed the street quickly because there was no traffic. Stars hung about in the quiet sky, and the moon glowed. Once they reached the guardrail on the other side of the road, Delia went first and stepped over it. She remained parallel to the rail until it came to an end near Chu Hua’s driveway.

Had it really only been two months ago that she and Mate came out this way after Alfie’s funeral? 

Alfie.

No one seemed to remember him after everything that had happened. Delia had cared about him, though, even though he’d been unfaithful.

Well, we weren’t engaged or anything.

But, still. When a man kisses a girl, doesn’t that mean something? It’d meant something to Delia. It wasn’t as though she’d gone around kissing many guys in her lifetime. When she grew brave enough to return a kiss, usually her heart was involved by then and, well, apparently Alfie’s heart hadn’t been. 

And now funny Alfie is gone.

She stopped when she reached the driveway. It was another fifty yards to the house. Delia led the way, picking her way along the side yard and the forest-y bits. Bogart was right behind her. He said, “You know, if I didn’t have a hospitality career, I’d be a criminal. This is exhilarating…” he said, but then suddenly, he screamed, “AHH!”

Delia whipped around and hissed, “What’s the matter?”

“Something ran across my foot!” He still had his knee to his chest, and he stared at the ground. “Oh God, it was probably a snake.”

Becca was right behind him, trying hard not to laugh.

Suddenly, gravel crunched as a car swung into the driveway. The headlights moved across the lawn. Slowing down, the driver pulled toward the house.

Delia, Becca, and Bogart locked eyes, and then everyone jumped into the woods. Delia had on her puffy pink jacket and heard a rip near her elbow. Someone was on her foot, and she wiggled out from beneath and got to her knees.

Becca popped up right next to her and started off toward the driveway and the car, same as Delia.

Bogart still rolled around back there somewhere. At least he wasn’t screaming about it.

The vehicle that pulled in was a two-toned Mini Cooper and the driver had already shut off the engine.

“I know that car,” Delia whispered. “I’ve seen it.”

Becca nodded while she pulled a twig from her hair. 

The driver’s side door opened, and a man pulled himself out. Literally, he had to use both hands on the roof of the car and made a swinging motion to stand up.

Daniel Curran!

He slammed the door of the Mini Cooper and moved toward the porch. His boots crunched in the gravel. He’d dressed for the cool night in a sweater and tight jeans.

“Mate has to be here,” Delia whispered to Becca.

“Do we call the police?”

“We should make sure Mate is here first,” she said and then turned around. “What are you doing, Bogart?”

He was still on the ground, doing something with his foot. “Now you care? I could’ve died back here.”

“Are you dead?”

“I lost my shoe.”

Delia turned back toward the house. 

The front door opened, and there was Chu Hua in creamy silk pajamas. Her long black hair fell to her waist, and it shined in the porch light. She moved aside to allow Daniel’s entrance.

“Come on, he’s going inside,” Delia told them.

The door shut.

Becca whispered, “Come on, Bogart!”

Delia didn’t wait for them. The iron was hot, as it were, and Mate would be visible if he were inside the house.

How empowering it was that she had her friends with her —her posse, her gang! The last time she tried to figure out a murder, she’d been chiefly by herself.

I am not brave by myself … I’m not courageous now, but if something goes down, at least I’ll have company while dying. Dying is not an act that should be done alone.

Reaching the double doors of the garage, Delia looked around for her gang. Becca was nearly keeping up with her, but Bogart still hopped along, fighting with his shoe. For a brief second, Delia thought of Thomi and how she’d said, I can’t follow you around and keep you out of trouble. 

Bogart slipped in the grass and almost fell over again.

I already need a new posse.

Delia didn’t want to get too close, so she moved along the outside of the garage and into the backyard. Deeper darkness greeted her, and Delia barely made out the rainwater barrels against the wall. She skirted around them and moved toward a screened porch. A soft light came through a window inside the screened area.

Delia stepped lightly until she was behind the porch but close enough to see through the window. 

So nice of you to keep your blinds open, Chu Hua.

Becca caught up to Delia and gazed into the house, too. 

Bogart stood behind them. “What’s happening?”

“They’re just standing there talking,” Delia said. “Where’s Mate?” She studied the windows. No other lights were on. Standing on her tiptoes, she tried to see the furniture in the front room. No one sat on the sofas… The movement brought Delia’s eyes back to the couple.

Chu Hua pounced at Daniel.

Delia gasped and whispered, “She’s going to kill him!”

Well, not exactly. Chu Hua kissed Daniel hungrily and forcefully. 

He’d caught her in mid-air and returned the kiss.

“Ohhh,” Becca let out. It sounded funny because she’d used three different notes to say one word. 

“Oh, my…” Delia turned away. When had she bought a ticket to an R-rated movie? She stepped around Becca and ran into Bogart.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m trying to surveil here.”

Delia grabbed his arm. “Come on. Mate is obviously not here.”

“Daniel lied. Mate cannot be his brother,” Becca whispered, following them. “He’s kissing Mate’s girlfriend.”

They stopped by the rain barrels. Delia turned around. “Maybe he is his brother and he snuck out to be with Chu Hua. Mate might be at Daniel’s house.”

Bogart leaned into the little group. “Do we know where Daniel lives?”

“Um, no,” Delia admitted. “We could watch from across the road and follow him home.”

“If he leaves,” Becca said. “He might spend the night here.”

“Right,” Delia said, biting her lip and watching the porch area. Then something caught her eye —movement near the porch.

Bogart voiced something … Delia thought he was singing: There’s someone here, there’s someone here.

But, he wasn’t singing. Someone was there.

Her stomach twisted and her eyes began to tear. That was because when Delia got really scared, she cried. She took a big ragged breath…

Becca and Bogart stared at each other. Then, both of them grabbed Delia’s arms and pulled her down next to the rain barrels. Pivoting around to watch the porch area again, Becca asked, “Who is that?”

“Shh,” Bogart shushed.

“You shh,” Becca said and pointed toward the porch.

The outline of a man moved toward the patio on the other side of the screen. He wore a jacket, so it was hard to tell whether he was slender or muscular … Was it Mate? Was he spying on his girlfriend and brother? Would he kill them when he saw them?

More tears formed in Delia’s eyes and then the worst happened.

It was confession time. Because not only did she cry when she was scared, Delia also innately told her own secrets. “I lie to my psychologist when she asks how much ice cream I’ve been eating.”

“What?” Bogart asked, keeping his eyes on the man in the yard.

“I bought fruit last week and didn’t eat any of it.”

Bogart frowned. Leaning in, he whispered, “Sometimes I sing The Way You Look Tonight. Do you ever pretend to be Frank Sinatra?”

“Will you two shut up,” Becca hissed. “Focus. Is that the guy? Is it Mate?”

Delia wiped her eyes and focused.

The man walked silently, pausing here and there, and then stopping at about the same spot that Delia and posse had stood. The pale light that came through the windows highlighted the man’s features…

Nicolo Montague!

“Oh crap,” Delia mouthed at about the same time Becca and Bogart crawled toward the corner of the house. Obviously, they’d recognized the detective too and made a hasty getaway.

“Wait for me,” she cried, crawling, too, on the heels of her hands and the tips of her boots. Around the corner, she stood erect again and then ran after her friends. 

They were already in the front yard.

Bogart made it to the motorcycle first and jammed the helmet on his head. Becca jumped on the back of the bike.

Delia still needed to cross the road. She called, “I will fire you both if you leave me here!” That wasn’t an emotional outburst either.

I will do it. I will fire them!

“Hurry,” Becca called, reaching into the sidecar and pulling out the goggles. She held out another pair for Delia.

Delia snatched them on the run-by. With something akin to a flying leap, she landed in the carriage and squished herself down. Jamming the goggles on her face, Delia peeked through the space between Becca’s and Bogart’s torsos.

There was Nicolo’s shadow in the back yard, hands-on-hips, and staring in their direction.

Delia froze with her hands on her goggles. He saw us! Oh no, he saw us! Tears gushed out of her eyes and started to fill the goggles. “I have eaten a family-size bag of chips by myself.”

Bogart revved the engine a couple of times and then hit the gas.

 

 

Delia was still sick to her stomach when they stopped in the Bloomfield Hatch parking lot. Out of the sidecar, she dropped the damp goggles into the seat. 

Becca got off the back of the bike. “Well, that was just great. The detective probably will show up here any moment and arrest me.”

Oh, I suppose she does have more to worry about than I do.

The girl dropped her goggles into the sidecar, too, and waved at the other cars in the lot. “Not only that. My car won’t start. How am I supposed to make a getaway?”

Man, she’s losing it. Glad I don’t do that.

The thought caused Delia’s head to clear a little. “I’ll give you a ride home, and then I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning, at four. You can call Triple-A while you’re here at work.” 

“We accomplished nothing.”

Delia shook her head. “Sure we did. Nicolo was at Chu Hua’s house because he thought Mate was there. That means he knows you didn’t kill Jeanette.”

Yes, right. That makes good sense!

She nodded, agreeing with herself. “Right, and now he’ll watch Daniel Curran, too. This is all good news.”

“Right,” Becca said without a lot of emotion.

 

 

After dropping Becca off at her apartment complex in Fredonia, Delia headed back home and made it there by ten o’clock.

Whew, this was a big night out for me.

She was on the second-floor landing when Courtney Kent came out of her apartment. The young woman barely looked up, and then suddenly, she jumped back into her doorway.

What the…?

All Delia saw was her reddish hair as Courtney peeked around the door. 

“Courtney?”

“Oh, it’s you, Delia,” she said. She stepped all the way into the hallway and shut the door. She was a pretty girl, though she wore a lot of blush. Green eye shadow covered her upper lids, which caused her emerald eyes to look even paler. “I thought you were someone else.”

Without giving it much thought, Delia said, “I can relate.” Stepping farther into the hallway, she took the turn to head upstairs.

“What do you mean?” Courtney asked. She reached behind her and turned the knob of her door to make sure it was locked. 

Delia stopped and adjusted the purse on her shoulder. “Didn’t detective Montague tell you that Mate is out on bail? And that he’s missing?”

Courtney reached behind her and tested the doorknob again before taking a step toward Delia. “Yes, he told us, but that’s the least of our problems.” 

“The least of your problems?” Had it something to do with what Delia had overheard the other day, when Courtney and Isaac were on the stairs, that they were moving out of Boroughbridge House? 

“Nothing, it’s nothing. We’re just…”

From down the hall, Thomi’s voice sounded through her apartment doorway. More like yelling, and the sentence contained the word Dad . That didn’t surprise Delia at all. What did make her brows shoot up was Courtney’s response to Thomi’s voice.

The young woman’s eyes widened, and her nostrils flared as though she’d had a sudden anxiety attack. After a second, Courtney seemed to get a hold of herself and walked toward the stairs. 

That’s when it hit Delia. Again, Courtney wasn’t wearing her usual casual garb of yoga pants like her bestie, Sanya. The girl wore jeans and a pale blue sweater instead.

Did Courtney think she heard Sanya’s voice? Is that why she jumped? They’ve obviously had a falling out.

Delia asked, “How are you and Sanya getting along these days?”

Courtney stopped mid-stride. Her top lip curled. “We’re not.” Her green eyes really zeroed in on Delia then. “Why are you asking?”

Yes, why am I asking? And, I’m not going to mention the yoga pants thing.

“Um, because Sanya stopped me in the hall the other day, and she seemed, I don’t know, lonely?”

Courtney snorted. “Please. She’s not lonely.” She put her hand on the stair railing, which brought her up close to Delia. “She’s crazy.”

“Well, that’s true…”

The emerald eyes narrowed. 

“I’ve lived five steps away from her for years,” Delia explained.

Courtney nodded, her eyes focusing on Delia as though she was trying to judge what to say. Then, she leaned in. “Isaac thinks she had something to do with her sister’s death.”

Delia stood straighter. “Why?”

“Because Jeanette was here, and Isaac saw Sanya spying on her. Jeanette went to that guy Eddie’s apartment, and Sanya kept slipping down the hallway and listening at the door.” Her eyes glanced up the stairway toward the third floor and then down toward the first. “If you ask me, everyone in this building is crazy.” She brought her attention back to Delia. “Except you, of course.”

“And you,” Delia said obligatorily. 

“Well,” the girl said, “see ya.” Then she moved down the stairs quickly.

 

* * *

 

Delia ran late to pick up Becca the next morning because Clawdius came home with a baby Buddha figurine in his mouth. At first, she stared at it confused. It was just a tiny thing with its hands raised and its belly sticking out of a ceramic robe. 

“Did you take this off someone’s altar?”

Clawdius ignored the question and went into the bedroom to get comfortable —without breakfast.

“Oh my … did you eat the food on the altar, too?”

The cat had absolutely nothing to say for himself, and Delia left the little figurine on top of the mailboxes downstairs for someone to find. After thinking it through, however, she took a tissue and wiped her fingerprints off the little statue. That’s all she needed was jail time while she was trying to solve a murder case.