It’s a sign of how well Lael knows me that she didn’t seem at all surprised when I called her at two A.M. the following morning and asked her to help me break in to Mrs. Flynn’s.
“I love you, Cece, but I think you’ve lost it,” she said. I heard the rustle of sheets. Lael was reaching around for her reading glasses, which she had dropped on the floor late last night just before falling asleep with a book, most likely a cookbook, on her stomach. I knew her as well as she knew me.
“I also think you’re searching for excuses not to work on your book. And that you don’t want to accept what’s going on with your daughter and son-in-law. And that you’re afraid of a real relationship. And that you’ve been watching too much TV, reading too much crime fiction, and fantasizing about how great you’d look in a black catsuit, scaling a wall. Am I right or wrong?”
“When did you become such a know-it-all? I need you, Lael. I can’t do this alone.”
“And why exactly do you want to do this at all?”
I had sat bolt upright in bed when I remembered. The lockbox was in that house, and I needed to find out what was in it. The shock of seeing Mrs. Flynn dead had knocked clear out of my head my reason for being there in the first place. I had the keys, but she had the goods, and I had to find out if I could help Joseph Albacco or not.
Time was running out.
The parole hearing was in a week. And Father Herlihy had as much as told me that Joe wouldn’t live to see another one. That he was on the verge of committing a mortal sin. I couldn’t let that happen. There was no way the police were going to hand over that box so I could check its contents. Not right away, at least, and probably not ever. And it wasn’t like I could explain how I came to be in possession of a dead woman’s keys anyway.
I went through all of this calmly and rationally with Lael, but she wasn’t buying. So I reverted to bribery.
“Will you do it for a Scooby snack?”
“Cece,” she said, laughing.
“How about two Scooby snacks?”
Like the pooch in question, Lael was true blue. And she tolerated my obsessions, unlike certain daughters I could name. I heard the water go on, then a jacket being zipped up.
“I’ll be waiting outside.”
“With a flashlight and a nail file?”
“Check.”
At that hour, there was no one on the road, and I broke the speed limit without even trying. You might think it would’ve dawned on me that I’d been breaking a lot of laws lately, but that realization came when it was already too late. At three-thirty A.M. that Monday morning, as we cut the motor and got out of the car in front of Mrs. Flynn’s, I was still caught up in the fantasy not only of me in a catsuit, but of fixing something that had been broken beyond repair.
“Put on your gloves. And don’t forget the stuff,” I whispered. “What’s that thing?”
“It’s Tupperware.”
“You brought food? We don’t have time to eat right now,” I said, frowning.
“No, it’s for peeing into.”
“What?”
“You know, for the stakeout.”
“Lael. We’re not waiting for anyone. We doing a quick B and E. In and out, you know the drill.”
“I don’t, I’m pleased to say.”
I gave her a look. “Leave it in the car.”
“It was a good idea. You’re just annoyed you didn’t think of it. Maybe we’ll have to flee the house and hide in the car for hours. Maybe the killer is in there right now, or on his way back.”
“Why’d you have to say that?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, not meaning it, and unzipped her windbreaker.
“Sssh—are you trying to wake the neighbors?”
“I said I was sorry.”
Looking around to make sure no one was watching, I lifted up the tape in front of the house, and we ducked underneath. When we got to the front door, I started fumbling around with the nail file. I had seen people pick locks millions of times on TV, and though I had never been stupid enough before to believe anything I’d seen on TV, at that moment I was operating on full loco mode. But the door pushed right open.
“That’s what happened the last time I was here,” I said.
“It is strange the police didn’t lock up.”
“Let’s not get spooked here. We’re going to get this over with and that’ll be that. Lael, you search the back part of the house. I’ll start up here.”
“No way.”
“Oh, fine.”
Lael stuck to me like glue, which made it hard to maneuver in the dark. Plus, the place was the same mess it had been the day before. Lael held the flashlight, I did most of the poking, and we tried hard not to trip over anything or each other.
It took a solid forty-five minutes to make it through the house. With every “ouch” and “oof” and “sorry,” I watched for the neighbors’ lights, but they appeared to be heavy sleepers, thank goodness. We searched every cupboard, every drawer, every closet. The worst part was seeing Mrs. Flynn’s clothes. They looked so frail on their hangers, like phantoms. We looked behind the armoire, in the hampers, in the shoeboxes. I even checked the freezer. Nothing. The lockbox was not in the house. It was gone.
“It’s gone,” I said to Lael.
“Gone,” she echoed.
Of course it was gone. What a fool I’d been. Whoever had broken in to Mrs. Flynn’s house that night hadn’t been looking for money, or jewelry, or anything like that. He had been looking for Jean’s lockbox. And he’d found it. Mrs. Flynn had been killed because she’d gotten in the way.
“Lael, we need to get out of here right now.”
Lael turned off the flashlight and opened the front door.
“Wait, I hear something.”
“Stop playing around, Cece. Let’s go.”
“No, I’m serious. Something in the backyard.”
“It’s probably crickets.”
“I don’t think so. It sounded like crackling leaves. I’m going to check.”
“Oh, no, you’re not. We’re leaving this second.”
“Sssh. Go outside and call Detective Lewis. Tell him what’s going on.”
“Where’s his number?”
“Damn. It’s at home.”
“I’m going back there with you.”
“Be quiet, then.”
We tiptoed to the back door and opened it very slowly. Outside, it was pitch black. I couldn’t see a thing. Lael was breathing down my neck.
“There! Did you hear that?”
But before Lael could answer, someone whipped past us at lightning speed, knocked me down onto the wet grass, and shot through the house and into the night.
“Cece, are you all right?” Lael gasped. “Who was that?”
“I’m fine. I didn’t see him. Did you?” I picked myself up. I was shaking only a little bit. Less than the other morning when that Camaro guy had followed me. Maybe I was getting used to it. Big trouble, I mean.
“No. It was too dark.”
“You’re telling me,” I said, peeling off my gloves.
“This isn’t funny.”
“Do you see me laughing?”
“We’re going now.”
“Wait.”
“No!”
“But do you think he’s still out there?”
We made our way to the front window and peeked through the curtains. They were beautiful, ivory lace. The street was deserted except for a pair of crows in Mrs. Flynn’s jacaranda tree. They sounded like they were arguing.
“The coast is clear.”
“I’ll be right there.”
I fished Mrs. Flynn’s ruby ring out of my pocket. I hadn’t meant to take it with me yesterday. I hadn’t meant any of it. But having my heart in the right place wasn’t something I had a right to be proud of. Not anymore. Facts were facts. I had put Lael in danger. I had put myself in danger. Worst of all, I had put Mrs. Flynn in danger, and I’d have to live with the consequences forever. Disgusted with myself, and more scared than I was willing to admit, I put the ring back on the dresser, where Mrs. Flynn had left it on the last day of her life, and went outside to ask my best friend if she would take my keys and drive us home.