Laugh or Death (Lexi Graves Mysteries Book 6) (3 page)

"That's what I said!"

I hung up after confirming a time for dinner and pulled the photo out of my purse, studying it intently. It was color, but it wasn't great. The woman my client hoped was his Nancy wore blue jeans and a pale shirt in some kind of checked fabric. She had a watch on her left wrist, but I couldn't make out the brand or style in the blur. Nor could I make out any other jewelry although she could have been wearing some. Her hair was down, but neat. She didn't look homeless as she sat there with a plate and cup in front of her on the table. Attached to the photo was an email and a brief note saying that the sender saw Leo's advert and thought this was a good likeness. He or she also wished him well on his search. There was an email address, but no phone number; and the email address was the type that didn't give a clue about the sender's identity.

I called up the email program on my phone and fired off a quick
note to the sender, explaining who I was and asking if I could call or see him or her regarding the photo. Tucking the phone away into my purse, I took one last look at the photo, then made my way towards the diner.

I was often in this part of town, given that it wasn't too far from the agency's office, and
had spent my whole life in Montgomery, bar that brief and ill-fated flirtation with the Army, however, I had never been inside that diner before. As I entered, the smell of hot, fried food made my stomach rumble. I took a stool at the counter and waited for the waitress to find me.

She was in her late forties with soft blonde hair and a welcoming smile. "What can I get you?"

"Coffee and a donut," I said, my mouth and stomach both moving faster than my brain.

"Coming right up. You don't look like a cop
, but I'll give you the cop special," she said, placing a fresh cup in front of me.

"I'm related to most of the cops in town," I told her, which wasn't strictly true,
although I did have nineteen serving family members.

"Yeah, you look familiar. You one of the Maguires?"

"One of the Graves, related to the Maguires."

"Ah, that's why you look familiar. You must be Detective Graves' daughter. He's retired now? Such a nice man. Used to come in all the time. He even investigated when we had a robbery. Thieves smashed everything."

"Wow, that must have been a while back. Dad retired a few years ago."

"And I've been here fifteen. Take your pick of the donuts," she said, pointing to a glass
-domed tray, "and tell him Mary-Ann says hello."

"Will do. Actually, I'm here working a case."

Mary-Ann frowned. "Thought you weren't a cop?"

"I'm a private investigator."

"Better salary than a cop?"

"Not much, but better clothes," I told her.

"Speak for yourself. Those young officers are so dashing. I may be old, but my eyes can still appreciate them a whole bunch. What can I help you with?"

I unfolded the photo and pushed it across the counter. "I'm trying to find this woman. I have a photo of her taken in here, one to two weeks ago. Do you recognize her?"

"Can't say I do. Do you know what time it was taken?"

"No, sorry. I'm guessing lunch?"

"Probably not my shift. We change them up every couple of weeks. This week, I start at three."

"Could she be a regular?"

Mary-Ann shook her head. "If she were a regular, I'd definitely know her. We get a lot of walk-ins. Maybe she just came in the one time. I'm sorry I can't be more help."

"Could I leave the photo with you to ask the other waitresses?"

"Sure."

I scrabbled in my purse for my pen and wrote
,
I'm trying to find this woman
along with my phone number over the photo, before detaching the rest of the email. "If anyone recognizes her, or knows her, I'd really appreciate a call."

"What did she do anyway?"

"Nothing. She's not in any kind of trouble. I think she might be able to help in a missing person case," I explained, sketching over the details. It wouldn't do my case much good to worry anyone, especially not Nancy, if it were she. All I could do, as I slid over a few dollar bills and thanked Mary-Ann, was hope that one of the other waitresses recognized her; otherwise I'd be back at square one sooner than expected. I exited the diner with my donut wrapped in a napkin, and my cell phone in my other hand. I ate the donut, while the phone pinged in a message from my mom. She was asking if I were ever planning on visiting again; and if I weren't, could I at least confirm that I was working on providing her with a son-in-law? I texted back
, yes, I would visit soon, maybe to the son-in-law, but what was the hurry?
and ended it with a kiss. Just as I did that, the email icon flashed and I moved my thumb over it, bringing up my emails.

"Yay!" I squeaked as I saw the very email I
hoped to see. The photo I left inside the diner was taken by one Jake Knowles. He invited me to call him about the picture, but he didn't think he could help much. As I strolled down the street, I dialed and pressed the phone to my ear.

"Yeah
, hello," Jake Knowles said on answering, sliding all his words together and sounding like he was chewing something.

"Hi, Mr. Knowles!" I replied, swallowing the last bite of donut and licking my sugared lips. "This is Lexi Graves. I just got your email."

"The PI? Call me Jake. Like I said, I don't know what else I can tell you." His voice was high and nasal.

"I just have a few questions actually while I look into the case. Do you remember when you took the photo of the woman?"

"Sure. Let's see. It was last Wednesday."

"Great. Was that at lunch
time?"

"No, much later. I took my daughter to soccer practice
, and I was getting a few snacks… so it was six, I guess, or maybe a little after."

"Okay, that's great. How did you know to take the photo?"

"From the online ad, of course. As soon as I saw her, saw Nancy, in the West Street Diner, I thought, that has to be her! I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to spook her because she has amnesia, right? So I waited until I got outside and I took the photo with my cell phone."

"You were inside the diner?"

"Yeah. That's where I was getting the snacks."

"Did you notice anything about the woman you thought was Nancy?"

"Uh... like what?"

"Like what she was wearing
? Or if she looked happy or sad or..."

Jake cut in before I could finish. "She had jeans on and a check
ed shirt, I think. Yeah, you can see them in the photo. She was really pretty, just like the picture her boyfriend posted in his ad."

"So she looked clean?"

Jake paused. "I guess. Why?"

Definitely not a homeless woman, I decided
. I then asked, "Was she carrying anything?"

"I think she had a purse
, but I don't remember what kind. Black? And she looked nervous. She kept looking up, and she kind of scowled at me when she noticed me looking at her."

"Did she meet anyone? Or was she on her own?"

"She was on her own, and I remember there was only her plate, no one else's, but I guess the waitress could have cleared another plate away before I got there," he said, reaching the same conclusion that I did. "Anyway, I left. Otherwise, I'd have been late picking up my daughter, but I stopped outside and snapped the photo of her before I left. I would have stayed longer to see what she did or even followed her..."

"You did great," I assured him. "Taking the photo was good thinking."

"So do you think it's really her?" he asked hopefully.

"I don't know yet
, but we're taking it seriously. Thanks for your help, I appreciate it."

"I'm just sorry I couldn't tell you more. Do you think..." he trailed off.

"What?" I prompted.

"Do you... can you mention the thousand dollar reward? Like in the ad? If it is her, and I helped, and I really hope I
did, well, I..."

"I'll pass on a reminder," I said, making a mental note to
read the reward ad. Leo hadn't mentioned posting a missing persons ad online, and I was curious to see what information he'd given out, not to mention the generous reward.

"Great. I appreciate it."

I hung up as I came to a stop outside a travel agency, after reassuring Jake twice more to make sure his name was announced for any reward money. I had to remind him again that we still had to confirm it was indeed Nancy before dissuading him from attempting to stake out the diner himself.

Inside the travel agency
, I spent a few minutes browsing the glossy brochures for Tahiti, Hawaii, and Barbados. All of them promised a getaway like no other, with glorious sun, endless empty beaches, cocktails at dusk and queen-sized beds with bathtubs for two. My mind became a blur of golden sand and blue skies, as I picked up one of each, sliding them into my purse for later reading.

Back in the VW, I made my notes,
but felt more uncertain whether it truly was Nancy in the photo. She was of average height and average hair color; so it would have been easy to mistake someone else for her. Plus, if she had amnesia, how did she manage to find a home? Or get the money to eat out? Both of those things indicated she must have had a job. Could she have pulled it off without any kind of background check, or even a name? I figured, yes, she could. Illegal aliens found work all the time, although it was often exploitive. In her condition, Nancy could have done something similar, accepting a low-paying, menial job with minimal background checks.

Of course, even th
ose thoughts were circumstantial until I could confirm whether or not it was her. With that in mind, I pointed the VW towards the agency office and headed away from the diner. Having to wait for one of the diner employees to call me would be, no doubt, frustrating, but there was plenty for me to do in the meantime. For one, I needed Leo's ad. Second, I could start running a few background checks on Nancy. I wanted to get a picture of her life up until the point she disappeared. Leo gave me plenty of information about her likes and dislikes, but financial patterns often provided more information. I was sure Solomon would have run all of Leo's information already; and I briefly felt bad about poking into Leo's life like he was a suspect. But, I rationalized, perhaps it would help, and would he really care once I reunited him with Nancy? Not one bit, I decided, smiling as I turned onto the ramp leading to the agency parking lot. In fact, we'd probably never need to tell him! I was sure I would feel much better about it all while sipping a cosmopolitan on the beach in the brand new bikini I had yet to buy.

Chapter Three

Running background checks on clients isn't exactly a high point of my career. It's not the lowest point either. No, that would be surveillance, where I have to sit in my VW for hours on end, and reduce my liquid intake to dehydration levels while crossing my legs to resist the urge to pee, all the while, trying to look inconspicuous. Easier said than done when you're pulling the
gonna burst!
face.

Right now, I wasn't pulling any kind of face as I perused my list of need-to-know information. Since Leo said Nancy didn't drive, I discounted a DMV check,
and instead, moved straight to financials. I didn't expect to find much as Lucas, at my request, ran his not-strictly-legal-but-who-was-asking? program to chase down her bank records while I conducted a credit check. When Lucas proffered a sheaf of papers, I could tell instantly there wasn't anything juicy by the look on his face, which, for lack of a better word, was blank.

"One year in the financial life of Nancy Grant," he said, tapping the top of the file.

"Thank you. Anything stand out?"

"Didn't look. Had to squeeze this in between a bunch of stuff for the guys upstairs." Lucas pointed upwards,
just in case I couldn't work out where upstairs was.

"Aww, thanks. Knew you missed me." Truth was, I missed him since he'd been bumped upstairs to work in risk management. His desk
was still empty, even though he made regular trips downstairs, and usually, for no apparent reason. "I'm so glad I got visitation rights with you."

"I don't want
Mommy and Daddy to fight over me," said Lucas, pulling his lips downwards while he rubbed away imaginary tears. "I'll run the rest of your request and get back to you asap."

"Appreciate it," I said, raising a hand to wave as I reached for the first sheet. It didn't take long to look through the statements. They ended six months previous, just as I guessed they would, though the records showed that the account was still open and a subscription for a magazine was still being drawn
. All other regular payments had stopped. They included a rental payment that I guessed was her dwelling, utilities, as well as a cell phone. Nancy had a job up until two months before she disappeared, but it was low-paying and appeared to be in a bookstore. None of her payments seemed out of the ordinary. Groceries, the occasional fashion outlet, movie theater tickets, a few stores that could have been gift shops. No big deposits or withdrawals although she seemed to be scraping by. Since her disappearance, all her expenditures stopped. A couple thousand dollars in a savings account was also untouched.

I wondered who canceled her payments
, and wrote that on a sticky note, which I attached to the file.

Next
, I called Leo Chandler, the man most likely to have the answers to my questions.

"How's it going?" he asked, sounding upbeat after greeting me.

"I've started," I told him, "but I can't say more than that right now."

"Okay." He sounded cautious and I felt a wave of sympathy for him. It was hard not knowing.

"These things take time," I told him, "so please don't be disappointed if I don't have anything positive to tell you for a while."

"No, it's okay, really. I get it. It's not like TV where you uncover
all the clues and solve a cold case in an hour. Is there something I can do for you, Lexi? May I call you Lexi... or do you prefer..."

"Lexi's fine, and yes, I hoped you could help with a couple of things. I'm looking at Nancy's bank records and wondered who canceled her payments when she disappeared. All her regular payments were canceled in under a month."

"Oh, sure, that's easy. Nancy canceled them."

"Huh?"

"I mean, she canceled them before she disappeared. We were going to move in together so she gave notice on her apartment. I guess that's why her regular payments were canceled." I made a quick note of that beside my question. It made perfect sense to me. It was just unfortunate that Nancy disappeared
after
tidying her finances. Leo continued, "I mentioned, she lost her job and was struggling, so we thought it would be a good idea for her to move in with me. That way, I could support her until she got a new job."

"That was kind of you."

"I'm a kind guy," Leo said, sounding sad. "I don't make bank either, but I could support us both, and that's the kind of thing you do for your girlfriend. Wouldn't you? I mean, with a boyfriend?"

"I guess," I
replied, thinking about what would happen if I lost my job. It'd probably put a kink in my relationship with Solomon. The thought wasn't a nice one. However, if Solomon lost his job... yeah, I'd lose mine too. "Yeah, I would."

"Was there anything else?" Leo asked
. He interrupted my thoughts of just exactly what it would do to our relationship if my job went sour.

"Oh, yes... er..." My mind drew a blank and I tapped my head with my pen. What was I going to ask? Oh, yes! "I spoke to the person that took the photo of Nancy..."

"Was it her?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know yet..."

"No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't... You just told me how slow these things can be."

"Don't apologize, Mr...
."

"Leo. You should call me Leo, too."

"Leo," I continued, "I spoke to the photographer who said he took the photo in response to a missing persons ad you posted online."

"A missing persons ad?"

"It had a photo and information about Nancy, along with a reward."

"Oh yeah. I think I posted a few on local forums, hoping that someone
saw her. I can't remember where. I wasn't really thinking straight when she disappeared."

"Do you have a copy of the ad?"

"I don't think so."

"Maybe saved
on your hard drive?" I prompted. "It would be useful to see."

"I water-damaged my laptop a couple of months ago and I lost a lot of stuff. I don't think it's there
, but I'll check and send it to you if I still have it. There wasn't any information that I haven't already given you. Actually, you have far more information than I put on the ad. I'm not sure why you need it," he trailed off, waiting.

"Just out of curiosity. If you find it, please email it to me
; and if you can remember where you posted it, that would be great too."

"Sure. I have your card with your email."

I thanked Leo and he spent a minute or two thanking me again for taking on the case. He gushed how glad he was that I was making some progress, even though I assured him, again, they were small steps and, as much I hated to say it, there was no guarantee of success. It was hard to be honest when faced with his unflagging optimism, but it had to be done. I did not want to make any promises I couldn't keep.

Moments after I hung up, my cell phone rang.

"Is this Lexi Graves, the PI?" asked a woman when I answered.

"This is she," I
replied, thinking my mother would have been proud of my telephone voice. It took a lot of years in temp jobs to perfect.

"Well this is Angie from West Street
Diner. Mary-Ann left a photo in the staffroom asking if any of us knew the woman in it?"

"You knew her?" I guessed, hopefully.

"Yeah, sure. Nancy."

"Her name's Nancy?" I asked, surprised.

There was a sound of chewing, then a loud pop. "Uh, yah, just said that. Nuh-an-sea," Angie enunciated slowly.

"Nancy. Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Duh!"

"Okay, how well do you know Nancy?"

"Pretty well... Maybe... if you know what I mean."

I knew exactly what she meant. She meant she had information for
sale. Fortunately, I could expend a few informant fees. "Fifty bucks for whatever you know."

"Hundred," sniffed Angie.

Racing Solomon to the finish line put me in a generous mood with his cash. "Fine."

"And I want it today."

"If you're at the diner, I'll drop it by in an hour."

"That's where I am. I'm here until midnight so just ask for Angie when you get here. Cash."

"But..." I started to say, but Angie already hung up. "Some people are so distrustful," I muttered as I headed to Solomon's office, or more precisely, to the petty cash in Solomon's office.

The small room that served as the head of the agency empire was empty
, but I could still smell Solomon's scent. Then again, it could have been on me since he spritzed his aftershave while I brushed my teeth in his bathroom this morning. I sniffed my shirt to be sure. Yep, some of it lingered on me, and my heart swelled a bit at the connection. Then I got a mental grip and reached for the petty cash tin and the clipboard that lay under it. A roll of bills was inside and I slid a hundred bucks out. I marked it on the register as an informant fee, and closed the tin, placing both back onto the shelf.

As I drove back to the diner, I not only thanked Mary-Ann, Angie, and Jake Knowles for what I hoped was a lucky break so early in the case, but
I also wondered how strange it was for an amnesiac to use her own name. Was it possible to remember only your first name? I wondered. Or were Nancy's memories slowly returning? Of course, there was the possibility that Leo had it all wrong, and Nancy didn't have amnesia. Had she gotten cold feet about moving in with him and taken off? If that were the case, why not continue to use her bank account? Or withdraw her savings?

By the time I reached the diner, I had a bunch of questions that I hoped the bubble
gum-popping Angie could answer. A waitress, she wasn't hard to spot with her blonde hair pulled into a cute ponytail and a huge sweep of pink shadow across her eyelids and equally pink lips. I took a seat at the nearly empty counter and told her who I was as she immediately brightened.

"So what do you know about Nancy?" I asked, holding up the bills,
and snatching them back before Angie could wrest them from my fingers.

"She's been in here a few times," said Angie. "Usually around lunch, only I don't do the lunch shift anymore
‘cause I got a second job with a burrito truck, so I took this shift instead. I think she works nearby."

"She has a job? What does she do?"

"Something with animals, I think. Like a pet grooming salon? Or a pet store? She sometimes wears those scrub tops, like beauticians do, with a little name patch." she said, her voice pitching her thoughts into questions I couldn't answer.

"What does the name patch say?"

Angie sighed. "It says
Nancy
," she said slowly.

"Okay then. What makes you think she works with animals?"

"She talked about the animals sometimes. I think she liked it," she said, like such a thing was perplexing.

"Okay. What else can you tell me about her?"

"Like what?"

"Like did she come in with anyone?"

"Not that I ever saw. I think she’s lonely."

"Oh?"

"You know, like someone who doesn't have anyone to talk to."

"Yeah, I know what lonely means."

"Aww, you'll find someone soon," said Angie, reaching over to pat my hand and giving me a sympathetic look.

"I have a boyfriend!"

Angie's expression changed from sympathetic to disbelieving without blinking an eye. "Sure you do. That's sweet."

"Did Nancy have a boyfriend?"

"Nuh-uh, I don't think so, but like I said, I never saw her with anyone."

"Do you know where she lives?"

"Uh... she said once. I think she lived over the pet salon... or store. Whatever it was, I think she lived in an apartment there. Last time I saw her, she said it was really poky and it was a treat to eat out."

"How did she look to you? Healthy?"

"What kind of weird question is that?" asked Angie, folding her arms and pouting while looking pointedly at the money in my hands. I peeled off two twenties and pushed them over to her and she immediately sweetened. "Yeah, she looked fine. Didn't wear much makeup and her clothes were kind of plain, but yeah, she didn't look thin or ill or nothing. She's one of those vegetarians, but she didn't look skinny."

"Does she have a regular day for eating here?"

"Nope. Whatcha looking for her for anyway? Did she do something bad?"

"She might be able to help with a missing person," I told her.

"Like a criminal? Like on the FBI's Most Wanted?" Angie asked, her eyes widening gleefully.

I shook my head. "Sorry to disappoint
you, but no, just a regular person. I was hoping to ask Nancy a few questions."

"Guess you
’d better find that pet salon," Angie replied. It was an unbelievable alignment of the universe in which her thoughts reflected my own.

"I guess I'll do just that," I said, sliding over the rest of the money. It disappeared quickly into Angie's apron and she popped her gum loud enough to make the elderly man at the other end of the counter jump.