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Authors: Kaye George

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"Did the van smell like garlic?" asked Immy.

"I, uh, didn't ask that," said Ralph. "Should
I
have?"

"Mother said one of the perps, or maybe both, smelled like garlic."

"The van was cleaned right after it was turned in and is rented out now. We'll get hold of it after it gets turned in, but I doubt there'll be useful evidence inside.
It's out for a couple days now.
"

After Ralph left, Immy put a label on a new folder. The Case of The Kidnapping of Hortense. The notes she put inside weren't very helpful looking, though.

Two perps, garlic breath

L
arge vehicle, possibly a van

P
rofane language

Hortense didn't know where they'd driven or what the motive was. Immy's list looked like it could fit quite a few people. Wymee Falls wasn't a huge town, but they'd need more than that to nail
the thugs.

 

Chapter Twenty-seven

 

 

Immy had a great day Friday. She got through the rest of the filing and all the invoices. Mike was out
of the office,
following a dead-beat dad
around
all day, but she knew he'd be pleased when he came back
at the end of the day
and saw her clean desk top. She was tempted to leave her drawers open to show
that
she hadn't stashed
her
un
finished
work in them
. But h
e could open them if he felt like checking.

Before she got out,
Hortense called and suggested that she invite Ralph over for dinner.
Hortense
was still staying with Immy, since they had no idea who had kidnapped her, or why.
Ralph said Hortense wouldn't be safe in her singlewide until the kidnappers were found.

Immy
called Ralph
as she walked two blocks
in
to
a brisk wind
to
the place
where her car was parked
. He said he
had to finish writing a few reports and would be able to get to Wymee Falls by six-thirty
to eat with them
.

After
she got
in
to her car
, Immy figured she had over an hour before she needed to be home. She'd been thinking, all day, how grateful she was that Shorr Realty and Geoff Tompkins had been able to persuade the City Council to back off harassing her about the condition of the house. She headed for Vance's
antique
shop
to thank him. The real estate office closed at five, so that's probably where he'd be. If he wasn't there, Quentin
might
know where he was.

As she
drove slowly
along
the street, trying to find
a parking place, she saw Geoff
Tompkins
come out of QV Antiques. It occurred to Immy that she had no idea where Geoff lived. She should thank him, too. She would tail him--for the experience--and find out where his house was. Then she'd come back and thank Vance.

She slowed her
Hyundai
to a crawl, waiting for Geoff to climb into his Land Cruiser, adjust his seat belt, fiddle with the rear view mirror, check his reflection, and finally start driving.

Geoff was easy to shadow. He drove like an old woman, under the speed limit
,
taking corners slowly with a wide swing
, leaving
downtown
behind
. Immy followed him across town to a hilly
neighborhood
with winding streets. The sun
had set
and it would soon be dark enough to turn on headlights. This played to her advantage, she figured. She could tail him in the dark and he'd never know, even though the streets they
now
traveled
had
less and less
traffic
.

At last, he turned
left
into the
driveway of a
tidy one-story ranch house set back from the street
,
with a
nice broad front yard. The lot could have held
a much larger house
. W
hen Geoff turned into the driveway, his headlights flashed on a building in the
backyard
. It
was
a large storage shed with windows, or maybe a guest house. Someone came out of the building.

It was time for her to make her move. She pulled over to the curb across the street from Geoff's driveway.
But b
efore she got out, the man from the
backyard
walked in front of Geoff's car. The headlights lit him up.
Immy's hand froze on the door handle.

She
didn't know who he was, but
there was
something
about him that made her decide not to approach either of the men
. It could have been the
heavy-browed
scowl on his face as he greeted Geoff and they spoke quietly through Geoff's car window.
Or it could have been the
glimpse
she'd caught
of heavily tattooed forearms as he'd passed through the headlights. They weren't colorful tattoos. Kind of bluish-black, like the kind you got in prison.
The man waved his muscular arms and Geoff shook his head
as they talked
.

Immy sat in her car un
til
Geoff pulled into his garage and both men went into the house
through the garage
.
The garage door came down.

She was about to pull away when Jersey's Beemer showed up. The woman, intent on stalking to Geoff's front door, didn't notice Immy's
Hyundai
. Immy turned her ignition key part way and rolled her window down a couple of inches in case they said anything she would want to overhear. She hadn’t heard a thing the two men had said.

Jersey smashed her fist on the door until Geoff opened it. He slid out and talked to her in the front yard.

Jersey must not know that the tattooed guy was there, Immy thought. And Geoff must not want her to know. Immy had decided not to thank any of these people for the city
council
decision tonight.

"This is not what we agreed to." Jersey shook a piece of paper at him
, her voice loud and agitated
.

"What's that?" Geoff said.

"My deposit slip. This is not enough. It's less than half. In fact, I don't think a fifty-fifty split is enough either. I'm taking most of the risk on this house flipping."

"How do you figure that? I'm putting up the money," Geoff growled, folding his arms at her.

"It's my professional integrity at stake."

"Sweetheart, you left that behind a long time ago. If you don't want to work with me, I'll find someone else."

"I could…." Jersey seemed stumped.

"You could what? You said yourself you have a reputation to th
ink
of. I don't lose anything if this comes to light. I'm just buying real estate for investment. You're the one
lowballing and highballing the prices
."

"You're the one doing substandard repairs."

"I don't think that's illegal."

"I'm telling you…" Jersey shook her small fist in his face. "…I want a bigger cut than this."

Geoff grabbed her fist with two hands. Jersey shook him off, then stalked back to her car.
Immy was too far away to tell if either one of them smelled like garlic.

After she left, Immy
drove quickly home.

On the way, she reflected
on several matters.
One, s
he was getting pretty good at tailing people.
Two, s
he thought she might know who the other man was.
And
Three,
Geoff had small hands for a man.

When Ralph got t
o her house for supper
, she waylaid him a
s he arrived
.

"Do you have a picture of Abraham Grant?" she asked.

"Not on me," Ralph said, bending to
intercept
Drew
as she raced
into his arms.

"Do you know what he looks like?"

Ralph considered that. "I
saw
his mug shot. Big guy, dark hair and eyes."

"Bushy eyebrows? Frowns a lot?"

Drew ran to the kitchen to help Geemaw with the meal. Ralph gave Marshmallow a pat on the head, then
watched
the pig trot after Drew.

"
Yeah, y
ou could call his eyebrows bushy. I haven't met him so I don't know his usual expression. He was frowning in his mug shot, but most people are.
It's not a happy time
when you're getting that picture taken
.
"

"I guess not."

"Why are you asking? Do you think you've seen him?"

Did she? Geoff could have a brother, or friend, living with him. Or a gay lover, like Vance.
Geoff
was out of town a lot. Maybe he hired someone to stay in his place and watch it when he was gone. "I'm not sure."

Supper tonight was mac and cheese with hot dogs. Partly because Hortense had let Drew choose, but mostly because there wasn't much else in Immy's larder.

After they sat to eat, Ralph asked Immy,
"Where did you see
the guy
?"

"I'm not sure I did. But someone
who looks
sorta like what you
said
is staying with Geoffrey Tompkins."

"Maybe you should come in tomorrow and look at the mug shot. If it's him, a lot of people would like to know where he is."

"I have another question. How do you flip a house?"

"What an odd question, Imogene.
" Hortense was enjoying the meal a lot. She was on thirds already. "
In what sense
do you mean flip
? Meteorologically, a tornado is usually efficacious."

"They usually just take off the roof, don't they?"

"Immy," Ralph said. "Where did you hear that term?"

"I overheard it at Geoffrey Tompkins' place. Jersey Shorr was talking to him about it."

"She was there with the guy who might be Abe Grant?" asked Ralph.

"She was there, but separate, I think."

"It means," said Ralph, "that someone buys a property, fixes it up, and sells it for a lot more money."

"And if the fixing up is substandard?" Immy asked.

"Then something shady is probably going on."

After supper, Immy labeled a folder "The Case of The Missing Abe Grant" in case she might have solved it.
She also labeled one "The Case of the Flipped House". She wrote Geoff's and Jersey's names on the paper she stuck inside, and added the address she'd jotted down when she'd seen Jersey and Geoff at the house with the for sale sign.

Both Hortense and Ralph
were
spend
ing
the night
in the house
. There were plenty of bedrooms, but not plenty of useable beds. Hortense took Immy's bed again and Ralph said Immy should sleep on the settee. He piled some blankets on the floor in the
G
reat
Hall
, a few feet from the settee, and settled down to sleep
.

Immy
lay awake thinking maybe she should try to get something started,
since Ralph was right there,
but
she
fell asleep before she could act on
her impulse
.

At two in the morning, Immy woke up to the sound of shattering glass, followed by a thick thump. Then Ralph gave a yell.
"Goddamm son of a bitch."

Immy switched on the lamp beside the settee and recoiled at the sight of
him
. Blood poured from
his shoulder
.
H
e grabbed it and grimaced, then cussed again.

A
brick
lay next to him and glass littered the carpet from where the rock had come through one of the
front
windows. One of the vertical wooden
mullions
had shattered and lay in splinters.

Immy
pressed her palms to her face for a moment,
in horror. Then she ran into the kitchen to get a clean towel for Ralph's bleeding
arm
.

"Should I call the cops?"
she said as she handed him a dish towel.

"I am the cops, Immy. But yes, call nine-one-one and get the Wymee Falls police over here."

He stood, pressing the towel to his
shoulder
,
swayed,
got his balance, the
n
ran
to the front door and
peered
out at the street. "
Dammit.
Nobody here, of course."

It about killed Immy to wait
an hour
for
a
police
man
to show up
. She got a
nother
towel and dabbed at the blood still seeping from Ralph's wound
. The cop who rapped on the door
was short and stout and said his name was Officer Ortiz.

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