Chapter Twenty-Three

I couldn’t get hold of Ben until later that afternoon. I still needed to tell him about Charlie’s arrest and my suspicions about Kitty.

His phone rang and rang. I was about to leave a sultry message that would knock his socks off and make him call back quickly, when he picked up. His gruff hello left me momentarily off-balance. I recovered and cleared my throat. “Hi, there.”

“Hey, sexy lady.”

I really hoped he couldn’t hear my blush over the phone. “So I had a lot of excitement in the shop today, and I tried to get you on the phone but couldn’t find you.” That didn’t sound like a nagging girlfriend, did it?

Apparently not enough to put him off. “Sorry about that. I was trying to track down some more information about Janice and who could have wanted to hurt her. I made some calls over to her hometown. I didn’t find anything new by talking to her parents and people she knew, so I still have nothing.”

He sounded so disappointed I started with my theory instead of the big arrest. “I think I have a way of figuring out who murdered Janice, but I need your help and Bella’s. I was thinking we would meet and get a plan together. But in the meantime I have some excellent news.”

“Does this have to do with the excitement in the shop?”

“Yes, it does, and wait till you hear how awesome we are at investigating.”

“I’m all ears.”

So I told him about overhearing Kitty and Charlie and about tying Charlie to the chair. By the time the police had shown up, Charlie was singing like a hound in the throes of passion about how it was all his plan and his fault. He took the blame for everything. When I tried to ask him about his mother’s involvement, he vehemently denied that anyone else was in on the theft. I had a feeling he was happy to be getting away from a nagging mom and an angry girlfriend. He did say he had given the bras to Jackie, but as a gift, and she knew nothing about where they’d come from. Which made her stupid in my book, if she actually believed it. The police were not happy I had tried to solve the whole missing lingerie thing on my own, and they made sure to tell me never to do anything like that again.

But the best part was when they had to untie him from the chair and handle the crotchless panties. It was priceless. And that image would have to last me, because I was planning to go directly against their orders and play Columbo again with one last mystery before I gave it up to the police.

So we set the meeting for my house, tonight, with hopeful execution tomorrow before my dad came winging into town.

When I got home from the shop, feeling very proud of myself for figuring out the lingerie thing, I checked my messages because the red light on the phone was blinking. I put the speakerphone on and the voice from a few days ago, that one I couldn’t originally tell if it was a man or a woman, came on the line with the force of a bullhorn.

“You have no idea what you’re messing with, Ivy Morris. You need to go home and forget about this town. It should have been you, and I doubt Janice enjoyed falling in your place.”

Despite thinking I knew who the voice belonged to and hopefully having a plan to get her, I was still scared. I called Ben, and, wouldn’t you know, he ran right over. If I had any doubts about being in love with him, they all flew out the window when his car came to a rocking stop at my curb and he hustled up my front walk, determination clear on his face. My knight in tarnished armor.

“Are you okay?”

“Maybe you should listen to the message and tell me what you think,” I said, leading him into the kitchen and replaying the message in all its glory on the speakerphone.

“Jeez, this person is not well. So now are you going to tell me who you think it is?” He took me into his strong arms and I rested my head on his collarbone. It made for a perfect fit.

“Let’s wait for Bella.”

Twenty minutes later, over dinner from the only restaurant in town that would deliver (my friends at Pizza Hut), Bella, Ben, and I went over my conclusions, thoughts, and feelings, throwing in observations of their own. We feasted on buffalo wings and cheese sticks as we went over all the equipment we needed and how best to play our hand. Basically, we hoped we knew what the hell we were doing and that we’d be able to catch our villain with a minimum of violence and bloodshed. Heaven help us, I thought, as I placed one call to my Great-Aunt Gertie’s attorney and another to our intended victim.