Read Fleeced: A Regan Reilly Mystery Online

Authors: Carol Higgins Clark

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #detective, #Mystery & Detective, #Mystery fiction, #Women Sleuths, #New York (N.Y.), #Reilly; Regan (Fictitious character), #Women private investigators, #Women private investigators - New York (State) - New York

Fleeced: A Regan Reilly Mystery (23 page)

BOOK: Fleeced: A Regan Reilly Mystery
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75

Even though Thomas had been totally understanding, Janey couldn’t help but feel sick to her stomach about what she’d done. In the grand scheme of things, I suppose it’s not so bad, she thought. But today she imagined that everyone in the world must be talking about her-the woman who was no better than a grave robber.

In the ladies’ room on the first floor of the club, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. I’ve got to redeem myself, she thought. But how? She’d told Thomas that she was going home to gather up all the cakes and pies and cookies she’d baked for tonight. Although they’re probably all stale by now, she thought with a pang of guilt. She ran a comb through her hair, picked up her coat and purse, and opened the door just in time to see Daphne storming by.

“When are you bringing back the sheep?” the guard asked Daphne.

“Not till I’m good and ready,” Daphne cried.

Janey froze and watched Daphne fly out the door.

The guard shook his head and looked at Janey. “She’d better bring them back today. Thomas really wants them here for the party.”

Through the glass panes on the front door, Janey could see Daphne jump in a cab. This is my chance for redemption, Janey thought, and ran outside. Another cab had just let out a fare next door. Janey flung her body into the backseat and yelled, “Follow them!”

76

Back in Nat’s living room, Regan sat down on the couch, glad for a quiet moment, and turned on a table lamp. It was only three o’clock, but the room felt dim and gray. It was the kind of room on the kind of day where one would be inclined to curl up with a good book, a cup of tea, and a blanket. Maybe even take a nap. But not after last night. Regan shuddered. Or the night before. Now Regan had no desire to ever close her eyes in the place again. She didn’t even want to let herself blink.

Clara had put all the books back on the shelves. The space in front of the window once occupied by the sheep was now empty. Thomas had said Nat and Wendy used to joke that Dolly and Bah-Bah were like their kids. They certainly had a place of honor in this room, Regan thought, the room where “the Suits” used to play cards.

Thomas had also mentioned to her that Nat and Ben told him that they’d bring the diamonds out of the safe during every card game and have some fun with them. They’d explained, “What good is having valuable diamonds all these years if you don’t enjoy them in some way?” So what could you do with them that would be so much fun? Regan wondered.

She picked up the phone and called Detective Ronald Brier. When he answered, she told him about the towels and the perfume.

“So who wore the perfume?” he asked.

“Georgette Hughes.”

“You don’t have an address for her, right?”

“Right.”

“And of course none of these people from the singles group gave a date of birth.”

“It
is
a singles group,” Regan said.

Brier checked his list. “We have nothing on her. The club employees were easy to look up since we had a social security number and date of birth for each of them. But the others are much more difficult.”

“Okay,” Regan said. “Georgette is going to be at the party tonight. I’ll see what else I can find out.”

“You’re going back to California on Monday, aren’t you?”

“Yes. And I’m afraid I’ll be leaving without having been of much help on this case. It’s all pretty frustrating.”

“We’ll keep digging,” Brier assured her. “The prints take time, and we’ll follow up on any leads from these lists.”

“Ronald,” Regan began.

“Yes?”

“Did you find anything on Lydia-the woman who owns the dating service?”

On the other end, Brier tapped his pen on the desk. “Not much. I called the funeral home. I’m sure you know how it is, Regan, with your father being in the funeral business. When someone dies there’s a lot of gossip. Apparently, Lydia lived right across the hall from this woman, Mrs. Cerencioni. She’d show up with food, run errands for her, that kind of thing. Lydia would joke with her about how they should both find rich husbands. The policeman who arrived on the scene when Mrs. Cerencioni died said Lydia was very upset at the time. It was the neighbors in the building who were saying mean things.” Brier laughed. “I think they were jealous the old lady didn’t leave
them
any money.”

“So that’s all it was?”

“Regan, you never know. Maybe she did have a motive for being so kind. But no one knew how much money the old lady had. Who knows? Maybe Lydia had somehow found out and set her sights on the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, as they say. Mrs. Cerencioni didn’t have any relatives.”

I guess there’s no need for me to call the Connollys, Regan thought. “By the way,” she said. “What did Mrs. Cerencioni die of?”

“She fell in the bathtub.”

Oh, great, Regan thought. That’s just great.

77

Janey felt a sense of empowerment. I’m going to bring those sheep back to the club myself, she thought. That’s all there is to it.

From the backseat she instructed the cabdriver to change lanes several times.

“Okay, lady, okay,” the driver shouted as he snapped his fingers to the music on the radio.

On a downtown street that looked as if it could use serious rehabilitation, Janey’s cab pulled up behind Daphne’s. Janey threw a few bills at the driver and jumped out, just catching the door that Daphne had run through before it shut and locked. Daphne dashed up the staircase to the second floor.

She moves fast, Janey thought. But so can I. Janey ran up the steps after her and caught up to her on the landing.

“Daphne!” Janey yelled.

Daphne hurled herself around with fire in her eyes. “What do you want, you little food grubber?”

“I’ll choose to ignore that,” Janey said politely. “You know what I’m here for. Dolly and Bah-Bah. It’s time to bring them home.”

“My career will be ruined if they have to leave,” Daphne insisted.

“Well, I don’t think my career is in such good shape at the moment either,” Janey replied. “Everyone in New York knows that if they die before they eat my food, I’ll be back to take it. How do you think that feels?”

“It’s your own fault for being lazy,” Daphne snapped.

“Once again, I’ll turn the other cheek. But I’m going in with you to get the sheep.”

Daphne rang the bell, and an assistant let them in. Pumpkin was standing alone in the middle of the set, doing stretches and making guttural noises as she prepared for the next scene. Janey could see that Dolly and Bah-Bah were positioned under the hot lights. They looked as if they’d been combed and brushed and fluffed.

“You’re back!” Jacques cried to Daphne. “And who is this with you?”

“Hello, sir!” Janey said. “I’m from the Settlers’ Club, and I’m here to get the sheep.”

“What?!” Jacques demanded.

“I couldn’t talk them into it,” Daphne apologized. “I’m sorry.”

Jacques shook his head. “Then get
out!
Both of you! Ruin my movie! Take them! I’ll get new ones someplace else!”

“Are you firing me?” Daphne asked.

“I guess that’s what you would call it.”

As Daphne ran to grab the wardrobe she’d brought down with her in the morning, Janey hurried over and grabbed Dolly. One of Dolly’s eyes popped out onto the floor. She quickly picked it up and stuck it back in, noticing that the other eye was also gone. She looked over at Bah-Bah and lifted up the wool off his face. He, too, was a one-eyed monster.

“Hurry up!” Jacques ordered. “Get out! I can’t stand the sight of you!”

Janey began looking around on the floor for the missing eyes.

“Move!” Jacques cried.

“Their eyes are missing,” Janey explained. “I have to find the two eyes!”

“You can get them another time. I have to make my movie.”

The sense of empowerment Janey felt in the cab was firmly in place. “I’m not leaving until we find those eyes!”

“Help her find the eyes!”
Jacques screamed. In an instant, several assistants were on their hands and knees, searching the floor.

“Pretty dusty down here,” one of them muttered.

“I’m giving you thirty seconds,” Jacques yelled. “Time is money.”

From the corner, one of the assistants cried, “I found one! Under the heater!”

“And I found the other!”

The two assistants came from different directions and handed the eyes to Janey.

“GET OUT!”

Janey stuffed the stones in her coat pocket and grabbed Dolly under the belly. She turned and called to Daphne. But she was gone. “Could someone please help me carry this other one downstairs?” Janey asked. “I’d be ever so grateful.”

At least six assistants tripped over themselves trying to help. Janey was down the steps and out on the sidewalk in two minutes, Dolly and Bah-Bah next to her. Not a cab nor a car was in sight. “Well, guys,” Janey said as she reached in her purse for her cell phone. “I’ll have to call a car service.” Janey’s newfound sense of empowerment continued its streak. “I have two very important passengers,” she declared to the car service. “I’d like a limo. Make it a stretch!”

78

Back at the club, there was a flurry of activity. Stanley had his trusty video camera out, following the staff and student butlers around as they spit and polished, placed fresh flowers around the first-floor rooms where the party would be held, prepared food in the kitchen, and set up buffet tables. The whole downstairs area of the club had been cleaned and shined. Clara had worked like a dog all day long and was exhausted.

“Clara,” Thomas said. “Why don’t you stay for the party tonight?”

“You mean to work?” she asked incredulously.

“No, I mean to have a good time.”

“That’s different,” she said.

“Do you have anything to wear?”

“I keep a dress and a nice pair of shoes in my locker because sometimes my sister gets half-price tickets for the theater at the last minute, and I always want to be prepared, just in case-”

“Very good,” Thomas said, cutting her off. “If you’d like to take a nap, you can go into my apartment and lie down on the couch.”

“Are you feeling all right?” Clara asked, suspiciously.

“More than all right,” Thomas shot back. “I’ve decided that if we’re going down, we may as well enjoy our last moments.”

Clara looked thoughtful. “It’s kind of like one of those movies where you die and then you come back to life and enjoy things more.”

“Something like that.” Thomas stared out the front window of the club. “Oh my God,” he said.

Clara followed his gaze. “The sheep are getting out of a stretch limo with Janey!”

“Now you see why I fell in love with her,” Thomas said softly.

“Well, if you love her, you’d better go help her drag them in here.”

Stanley appeared behind them. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Nat and Wendy’s sheep are back,” Thomas said as he hurried outside.

“I love this!” Stanley cried, capturing on film the limo and the sheep being carried over the threshold of the club. “I’m sure I’ll be able to use this in my piece.”

Thomas and Janey carried the sheep back into the parlor, Stanley’s camera following their every move. “Thomas, if these sheep are so important, we should do something dramatic with them,” he suggested. “It’d be good for my piece.”

“What should we do?” Thomas asked. “I was going to put them in front of the fireplace.”

Stanley shook his head and looked around. “Why don’t we place them on a platform by the window? It’d be gorgeous. You know how some restaurants have all sorts of stuff hanging from the walls? The two sheep could be like two guards at Buckingham Palace, except they’re guarding the Settlers’ Club. And if they’re up in the air like that, they’ll be seen from the street.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Janey said. “We can put the big anniversary cake on a table between them.”

“You’re
wonderful,” Thomas declared. “You brought them back.”

Clara rolled her eyes and said to Stanley, “Who are we going to get to build a platform?”

“I turned a gas station into a home. I can do it.”

“Thomas,” Janey said, “I’m going to run to my apartment and get the cakes and pies.”

“If Mrs. Buckland calls, please don’t answer the phone,” Thomas called after her.

Janey laughed and bounced out of the room, the sheep’s eyes jiggling in her coat pocket.

“Thomas,” Stanley said, “I know just how to build that platform.”

“Do you want some help from any of the butlers?” Thomas asked.

“No, I’ll help,” Clara declared. “This will be fun.”

BOOK: Fleeced: A Regan Reilly Mystery
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