“I’ll make sure he leaves then I’ll move my car around behind your garage so it won’t scare off any would-be intruders,” Trent said.
I nodded. That would give me a little more time before we had to talk about the Lisa incident.
As soon as he walked out the door, I set Henry on the recliner, picked up my cell phone and called Fred. “Did you run those license plates yet for that car at Paula’s house?”
“Yes.”
I gritted my teeth and fought the urge to lay down my cell, go next door and strangle Fred. “Do you want to share that information with me?”
“Are you going to bake brownies tomorrow?”
“Brownies? Sure. That’s a good idea. Trent’s spending the night. We could all get together and cook out. But stop distracting me! Trent’s car door just slammed. He’ll be back any minute. Tell me who owns that car. Is it Lisa?”
“George Murray.”
Trent opened the front door and I hung up on Fred without saying good-bye, the same way he usually does to me.
“Who were you talking to?” Trent asked, setting a deflated air mattress on the floor and looking at my phone suspiciously.
“I was talking to Fred. We’re having a cookout tomorrow, and I’m making brownies.” Every word of that was true. I don’t approve of lying. Well, except when circumstances justify it.
“Okay, that sounds good. So why did you look guilty when I walked in the door?”
“Did I? Or have you just been a cop so long, you think everybody looks guilty?”
He grinned. “I’ve been a cop so long, I think everybody is guilty. Help me get this thing spread out, and I’ll plug it in and soon have a reasonably comfortable bed.”
“Be careful you don’t upset Henry tonight. One swipe of his claws on that mattress and you’ll be sleeping on the floor.”
Henry lifted his head and smiled. Maybe not in the same way we smile, but it was definitely a cat smile.
***
I love entertaining friends. I think that’s one reason my chocolate shop is so successful. I not only make the best chocolate in the world, I have a great time serving it to people and watching them enjoy eating it.
I made brownies on Sunday, Trent and Fred joined forces to grill hamburgers and hot dogs, Paula brought corn on the cob, and Zach played with Henry, delighting in the new game of keeping Henry within the confines of my back yard. Henry, being the well mannered cat he is, refrained from snarling or hissing at the kid, but I could tell he did not like the new game nearly as much as Zach did.
After we stuffed ourselves, we lounged on my back porch in the cool shade of my overgrown bushes and trees. Trent had a cold beer. Fred and I drank wine from crystal glasses, all brought by him. He refuses to ruin good wine by putting it in a plastic cup and says if we break one, he has more. Paula sipped lemonade, and Zach guzzled whatever liquid we put in his sippy cup, convinced he was drinking the same things we were.
Fred refilled our glasses. “I wish I could have been there to see Trent put Rick on the floor,” he said. “You should have snapped a picture with your cell phone.”
“Darn! I should have! Can we do it again?” I looked at Trent.
He smiled and had another drink of beer. “If the need arises.”
I can take care of myself, but it was kind of nice to know I had somebody to fight for me instead of against me.
“Do you think it was Lisa who posed as the insurance lady?” Paula asked.
“Probably,” I said. “She fits the description, but if it was, her cohort in crime didn’t know about it until last night. That was one of the few times I’ve ever seen Rick really freaked out, not in control.”
Zach charged over to me and held up his sippy cup. “More wine, Anlinny!” Sweat plastered his blond hair to his head, his hands were grimy, he had mustard on his shirt and grape juice stains on his mouth. He was totally adorable.
“You bet, Hot Shot.” I walked over to the ice chest, lifted out a bottle of grape juice and filled his cup. “You’re not driving tonight, are you?”
He giggled and raced away, short legs churning.
I poured myself another glass of wine as long as I was up. The real stuff, not the grape juice. “I would have liked to have a bug on Rick’s wall last night and hear what he and Lisa talked about after our encounter.”
“You mean you’d have liked to be a fly on the wall,” Trent corrected.
Paula choked on her lemonade. I gave Fred a meaningful glance, and he returned a blank stare. He and Paula both knew I was hinting for Fred to use his special skills and bug Rick’s house—the electronic kind, not the insect kind.
“Fly, bug, whatever,” I said for Trent’s benefit. “You all know what I meant. Anyway, I think Rick either learned some things last night that he didn’t know about his girlfriend, or he learned there’s another player in this game of Take Lindsay’s House. In either event, that would have been one interesting conversation. It’s too bad we’ll never know what was said.”
“Would you bring me another beer?” Trent asked in a blatant change of subject maneuver.
I pulled a cold can from the ice and took it to him then plopped down in the chair beside him. “You know, if we were all to pool our knowledge, we’d be able to catch Bradford’s killer a lot faster and make my house safe so nobody felt compelled to sleep on an air bed in my living room. And since I brought the subject up, you’ve got to work tomorrow. You need to deflate your bed and take it with you. This is getting ridiculous.”
“She’s right, Trent,” Paula said. “Lindsay and Henry are going to stay at my house tonight.”
“And leave the treasure in my house unguarded?” I shook my head. “I am not exactly helpless, and I have a ferocious attack cat.”
At the moment my attack cat was teaching Zach how to leap at the lightning bugs that were starting to appear in the evening dusk.
“I’m staying at your house tonight,” Fred announced, “whether or not you’re there. You can stay with Paula and I’ll guard the treasure.”
I reached over and took Trent’s hand. “Well, I guess that settles that. Unless you want to sleep with Fred, you need to go home tonight.” If Fred spent the night, I’d have extra time to nag him about bugging Rick’s house.
Trent studied Fred. The two men are about the same height, but Trent does all that cop stuff and has muscles like you’d see on the cover of a romance novel. He also has a fierce look about him, the kind of look that would make a criminal stop and think twice before taking him on. Fred, on the other hand, is lanky and has a dignified look that would only frighten someone about to use the wrong fork at dinner.
“Thanks for offering, Fred,” Trent said, “but I don’t mind staying with Lindsay again. She’s so self-sufficient, I don’t often have the chance to take care of her.”
Trent has never seen Fred kick butt and take out a would-be murderer about to make me his next victim, and Fred denies that ever happened when I try to tell somebody. So I can understand why Trent might be a little dubious about trusting Fred to protect me. It was kind of amusing, but kind of insulting too.
I let go of Trent’s hand and rose. I’d intended to rise imperiously, but that’s kind of hard to do from a lawn chair. Nevertheless, I stood and looked at the two of them. “That’s enough. I do not need to be protected. I do not need either of you staying at my house tonight, but if anybody’s going to, it’s going to be Fred because the rest of us have to work tomorrow. And speaking of that, it’s getting dark so we need to call it a night.”
“I work,” Fred protested.
“Where’s Zach?” Paula exclaimed, and suddenly she was on her feet, her voice laced with panic. She still hadn’t completely recovered from the nightmare experience her ex put her and Zach through and was a little overly protective of her son.
“It’s okay,” I assured her. “Henry’s gone, too. He probably went around the house and Zach’s chasing him.”
But I didn’t feel as confident as I sounded. There was too much crazy stuff going on to feel okay with a little boy and a cat disappearing in the dark.
“I’ll go down the alley,” Trent said, pushing through the shrubbery in that direction.
“I’ll go around the house this way, you two go that way.” Fred headed to the left, and Paula and I went right.
A terrible scream ruptured the quiet night, a sound like a creature in the depths of the jungle preparing to take down his prey.
“Zach!” Paula shouted, running toward the front of the house so fast I couldn’t keep up even with my longer legs.
“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” Zach raced into her arms, sobbing hysterically. “Bad man hurt Henry!”
“Henry!” Now it was my turn to panic. I raced around the corner of the house in time to see Henry chasing a figure in a long coat and hood down the sidewalk. Apparently he wasn’t hurt too badly. “Henry! Stop!” I charged down the sidewalk, intent on saving my cat. I’d trip his intended victim to put them on the same level so Henry could get to him to claw his face off.
Fred appeared from the other direction, his long legs easily carrying him ahead of me.
But the figure had a head start. He made it to the beige sedan that waited at the curb with the engine running, slid in and peeled away. Henry let out another jungle cat yowl but stopped at the curb. Good. Chasing dogs was one thing, but I didn’t need him to start chasing cars.
Fred ran into the street and looked after the sedan. Trent brought up the rear, swearing with a great deal of expertise. He had his gun drawn.
“Shoot out the tires!” I shouted.
“I can’t do that!”
Freaking laws. You can’t drive too fast. You’re not divorced until the judge says you are. You can’t shoot out the tires of somebody who tried to hurt your almost-girlfriend’s cat. Who makes up these stupid laws?
Fred came back down the sidewalk, shaking his head. “Same license plates as the car at Paula’s house. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman driving.”
Henry stalked over, and I picked him up. His fur stood on end and he grumbled from somewhere deep inside. “Good boy,” I said. “Good attack cat.” He was disappointed he hadn’t been able to draw blood.
“It was her.” Paula stood beside me, clutching her son tightly against her.
Zach pushed away from his mother, reached up and petted my cat. “Henry okay?”
“Henry’s okay.” I looked at Paula. “I agree. I think it was the woman with the big boobs, and she wore protective clothing because Henry got her when she broke in before. My money’s on Lisa. She’s the right height.”
Trent moved up beside me. “You’re probably right about the clothing. Nobody wears a coat and hood in this heat.” His gun had disappeared again. Slick. “But you said Lisa didn’t have any scratches on her.”
I shrugged. “Could be Rick was with her when they broke in, and Henry scratched him while she got away. Henry doesn’t like Rick. You saw that last night.” But I didn’t really believe my own theory. Rick had been shocked when I told him about the break-in. I knew him well enough to know when he was lying. He did it so often, it wasn’t hard to learn the signs. And I didn’t think he’d been faking his surprise last night.
Fred strode over to the porch. Trent followed.
“Here’s how they’ve been getting into your house.” Fred stared down at something metallic lying directly in front of the door.
“Lock picks,” Trent said. “We’re dealing with professionals.” He took out his cell phone. “Time to call in the cops.”
“Why? They won’t do anything. Nothing was taken, nothing was destroyed,” I mimicked.
“They’ll file another report. We’ll have it on record.” He punched a number into his phone.
“I’m going home now,” Fred said, “but I’ll be back when everybody’s gone. I’m spending the night, and tomorrow we’re searching your house from top to bottom. There’s something valuable in there or these people wouldn’t take such risks to get to it.”