Coffee & Crime (38 page)

Ted held me back with his arm. "Negative."

He looked through the windshield and scanned the quiet street. He dashed off a text then put the phone down on the console. I sighed and drummed my fingers against the armrest. Ted buzzed down his window and stuck his head out to get a better look around. "This isn't black ops, for cripes sake," I whispered.

Ted buzzed up his window and pulled his keys from the ignition. "Okay, but go slowly. If we see anybody, then we're a couple in love taking a midnight stroll. Got it?"

I nodded eagerly. "Yeah, I mean affirmative Captain America."

I opened the door, grabbed my bag from the foot well and slung it over my shoulder. He put his big hand on my shoulder and held me back. "What are you doing?"

"I'm getting out of the car."

"Leave the bag. Travel light, remember?"

I clutched my bag. "If I go the bag goes. I don't go anywhere without the bag. My entire life is in the bag."

He shook his head. "Negative. The bag is a hindrance. Too risky. What if we have to climb out a window? Or shimmy down a tree?"

I put one foot on the pavement. "Then I'll sling it around my neck." Ted's jaw worked while he determined whether he could win the argument. "Cite me for insubordination if you want to Captain but the bag is coming." He frowned and I frowned back. "So are we going to sit here and argue all night or get to it?"

He let go of my shoulder and nodded. We slipped out of the SUV and closed our doors quietly. Ted used the key to lock the car, paranoid that something as ordinary as the chirp of a car remote would draw attention.

Across the street and about twenty yards east of us was Lily's building. We stood under an old pepper tree and scanned the street again. All clear. Ted took my hand and we crossed the street and strolled like a couple in love taking a late night walk. He draped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. He nuzzled my ear and said, "Be cool."

When we were just a few steps away from Lily’s building, a man dressed in ripped jeans and a dark hoodie banged out the front door. Without missing a beat, Ted took me in his arms and kissed me hard. As the guy passed us on the sidewalk, he muttered, "Get a room, man."

Ted dove deeper into the kiss until the engine of a VW chirped to life. I pulled away and jerked my head toward the street. The guy skittered off without giving us a backward glance. I craned my neck but it was so dark I only caught the blip of brake lights before he slid through the stop sign. "VW guy?"

Ted followed my gaze. "Who's VW guy?"

"Zelda didn't brief you on that? Tisk, tisk. I'll tell you later." But something else about the guy seemed familiar. I stared up the street even though he was long gone.

"Come on, Scotti." Ted pulled me along and we hurried up the walk. While Ted used his pick lock tools at the door, I stood in front of him pretending to search for keys in my bag. I made a mental note to get myself a set of those tools. Ted grinned at me when the lock clicked and he swept me inside the tiny lobby. Front units left and right
—
staircase straight down the middle. The steps creaked as we scurried up them but no one came out of their apartment to investigate. Lily's place was at the top of the stairs. Ted crouched at the door while I aimed a penlight at the lock. He fiddled for a few seconds, then I heard the lock turn. "We're in," he whispered.

We ducked inside and closed the door behind us. I felt around for a light switch. "Let's be fast."

Ted put his hand over mine and whispered. "Negative on the lights."

"Why not?"

"Because a neighbor could notice and call the cops." Ted clicked on a mini flashlight and ran the narrow beam around the room, careful to keep it below the window line. "And keep your voice down."

I whispered, "I don't think anybody's in the building."

"Doesn't matter. There are neighbors across the street. And Mr. VW could be back any minute.” He smacked me on the butt. "Hup to, recruit."

The apartment was small and suitable for one person. The usual layout
—
a combination living and dining area, galley kitchen, and a small bathroom and bedroom down a short hallway. The slider to the balcony faced the alley and two windows in the side wall faced the building next door.

Ted moved like a cat and made quick work of thumbing through mail, checking the kitchen cabinets, fridge and trash. He looked at me and shrugged.

I put the sofa cushions back in place. "Nothing of interest?"

He frowned. "Nothing at all. No food, no plates, no trash."

I frowned at the living room. "Nothing here, either."

We moved down the hall. Because the window faced the alley, we chanced turning on the bathroom light. But found nothing but the basics. Soap and shampoo in the shower. A damp towel slung over the towel rack. Toothbrush and toothpaste on the edge of the

bathroom sink.

I pointed down the hall. "I'll check in the bedroom."

Ted nodded. "I'll get an update on Lily's location."

The bedroom was pitch black. Using my cell phone light, I picked my way across the room. Again, little more than the basics. A mattress and box spring on the floor topped with a comforter. A small dresser with a couple of pairs of jeans, tee shirts and underwear
—
nothing on top. The night stand held a small lamp that I switched on. In the meager yellow light, I saw black-out curtains covered the windows. I stepped around the bed and pulled back a curtain for a look outside. Not even a stray cat lurked below. Disappointed, I scanned the room again, but it was clearly just a crash pad for Lily. It was probably where she lived before she got to move into George's big fancy house. Maybe she kept it as some kind of insurance; she had claimed that Maggie wanted to throw her out.

Ted walked into the bedroom frowning. "Do you have my phone?"

I smirked. "Did you lose it?"

He stared at my purse. "Check that bag of yours."

I dug through my bag even though I knew I didn't have his phone. "Not here."

Ted put out his hand. "Let me look."

I rolled my eyes and gave him the bag. While Ted pawed through my bag I wasn't supposed to bring with me, I went to the bedroom closet. I tugged on the pull chain to turn on the light but it didn't help much. Like the rest of the place, the closet was small and unimpressive. From the bedroom, Ted muttered and dumped my bag out on the bed. Little clangs and tinkles sounded as he sifted through my stuff looking for his phone. "Hey, don't forget to put everything back."

The closet held a few shirts and a couple of pairs of pants on wire hangers. On the floor was a duffel bag pushed into the corner. I squatted down, grabbed the handles of the bag and gave it a tug. It was too heavy to be empty. Encouraged, I unzipped the bag hoping for treasure.

Ted stuck his head in the closet. "My phone's not here. Must be in the car. Let me use yours."

I reached back with the phone and Ted snatched it. "And don't forget to put everything back in my bag." But he was already texting because I heard the little beeps as he hit the keys.

The closet was too dark to examine the contents, which looked to be letters or paperwork. Grabbing the duffel by the handles, I pulled it out of the closet. Ted sat on the edge of the bed texting intently with my bag sitting next to him. I dumped the contents of the duffel onto the bed. Two photo albums, a stack of letters bound with twine and two manila envelopes.

The stack of letters seemed the most promising. They were all addressed to Laura Carson with a Virginia return address for George in the top left corner. Ted was completely engrossed with my phone, so I pulled the first letter out of the stack.

Carefully, I removed the letter from the envelope. The stationary was faded and the ink smeared but I could read enough of it to recognize it was a love letter to Laura from George. While Ted was otherwise engaged, I returned the letter to its envelope and then tucked the whole stack of letters into my bag. We could examine them more

closely at the motel.

Next, I flipped through the photo albums. All of the pictures were at least twenty years old
—
many of them older. Photos of George as a young man with a pretty blonde girl, who I guessed was Laura
—
Lily's mother. Like the letters, they were faded but still clear enough to depict two people in love. Poor George. Had he regretted the road not taken? Maggie resembled Laura
—
petite, blonde, and lovely. Except for the eyes. Though both women had beautiful eyes, Laura's had a kindness that Maggie's lacked. If Maggie had been a substitute for Laura, George hadn't chosen well.

The second album held more recent photos of Laura, and a small, adorable blonde child. No doubt, Lily. I wondered if Lily had shown these photos to George. Had they convinced him that she was his daughter? Just looking at them pulled my heart strings, and I could only imagine how they affected George.

Toward the back of the album was one of those portrait shots that parents often have taken of their kids. Lily dressed in a polka dot dress, white mary-janes and lacy anklets, sat on a draped platform, with a nature scene backdrop. She held tight to a teddy bear and looked like the happiest kid in the world. I pulled the photo out of its sleeve and flipped it over. Jotted in feminine cursive was: "Lily, age three. Jan 1995."

I slipped the photo into my bag. As I reached for the first manila envelope Ted put his hand on my shoulder. "Time to go."

Not at all interested in leaving now that I found something, I looked up and frowned. "Why?"

"They lost Lily."

I raised my fist in the air. "Go team."

I stuffed the two manila envelopes in my bag but Ted shook his head. "Put that back."

"There could be valuable information in those."

Ted loomed over me with his hand out. I huffed, fished the envelopes out of my bag then slapped them into his hand. He stuffed the envelopes and the albums back into the duffel and zipped it up. "That's it, right?"

"Yeah, that's it," I lied.

Ted looked skeptical but took me at my word and hauled the bag back to the closet. From inside he asked, "Where was this?"

I pushed the contraband deeper into my bag and then slung it over my shoulder. "Back left corner, on the floor. Kind of jammed in there."

Ted fumbled around with the duffel for a few seconds and then he stepped out, pulled the light chain and closed the door. He scanned the room one last time then he switched off the bedside lamp. "Okay recruit, let's move it."

As he pushed me out of the room I asked, "Where's my phone?"

He patted his breast pocket, then rushed me up the short hallway to the living room and straight to the door. When he reached for the doorknob we heard voices outside in the hallway. In one swoop, he moved us across the room to the patio slider. He held a finger to his lips and cocked an ear.

The voice was muffled, and I couldn't make out what was being said. The voice was female, probably Lily
—
but whoever it was, stood was just on the other side of the door. I heard a soft click and a swoosh, then felt a breeze dance my curls around my face. Ted pointed to the balcony then he pulled me through the door with him. A key turned in the lock and he pulled the slider shut. He pushed me flat against the exterior wall next to the slider. The wet air had turned to a light rain, and raindrops plinked on my jacket and head. I tried to raise my hood, he held my arms down and shook his head.

A light went on inside the apartment and I gasped. Ted put his hand over my mouth and made hand signals to communicate. 'Don't move, don't talk, listen.'

We stood in the drizzle against the wall until we heard the shower start. I was relieved until I noticed that the bathroom window was only a few inches from my face. All Lily had to do was peer out and we'd both be sharing a jail cell courtesy of Daniels and Davis. The hand signal communication continued, and I couldn't stifle a gasp when Ted swung his legs over the wrought iron railing and eased himself down to the dumpster below. He stood atop the dumpster motioning for me to do the same. But I feared a stunt like that would make me a paraplegic with a criminal record.

"Do it!" Ted whispered.

I shook my head violently and whispered, "I can't, I'm too scared."

He gave me the bugged, don't be a stupid girl look and said, "You can't stay up there all night."

I pointed to the shed. "There's a ladder in there, go get that." Ted mouthed the word "negative" and with emphatic hand gestures ordered me to climb down. I sucked in a breath for courage, slung my bag around my neck and raised my leg over the railing. "Shit."

Under other circumstances, it might've been funny
—
me climbing out of Lily's balcony, trying to land my feet on Ted's shoulders. Sucking in my lips so I wouldn't gasp or talk or scream. All the tries and misses and that close call when I hung by one hand on the railing while flailing my legs would've made a great video to post on the Internet. But I wasn't laughing when I finally stood on the dumpster. I gulped in air and clung to Ted, like I'd just escaped certain death.

Proud of his spy-in-training, Ted grinned. "I knew you could do it."

I scowled at him. "Lose that stupid grin and get me off this fucking dumpster."