Loose Lips (26 page)

I had and then I’d pulled my dad’s trick and
gone back and checked. Twice.

“It isn’t locked now.” She looked side to
side as if someone might be watching us, as if anyone could even
see us standing out here in the pitch black alley.

Still the hair on my neck crawled against my
skin.

Trying not to look around myself, I asked,
“Why are we here?”

“I got a call.”

Another call. I sighed. “And the caller said
I knew something?”

“What?” She shook her head. “No. The caller
said the mansion had been broken into again and that I should get
right over here. I think it’s a trap.”

A trap. So she called me? Maybe I should
have been flattered.

“You were the last person who had the key.
Plus, you’re in this with me. I needed someone I could trust.”

“Because I’m ‘in this with’ you?”

“Yeah.” She pushed past me to peer into my
Jeep. “Good. You brought him. I forgot to tell you, but figured you
would.” Then she started walking.

I didn’t follow. Instead, my hand moved back
to the handle of my Jeep while my brain calculated the quietest way
to get inside without her noticing and flinging herself back onto
my hood or, worse, onto me.

Unfortunately, in the dark, I miscalculated
her direction. My passenger–side door opened, and Kiska, aided by
Cindy, hopped out.

“Did you bring a leash?” she asked.

I had, of course. But I never would have
released my pet here in the dark without the leash already attached
to his collar and my hand firmly wrapped around its loop. In other
circumstances, I might have shared this with her, but standing in
the dark, not 100% sure she hadn’t lost it, did not seem like the
absolute best time for this discussion.

Instead, I grabbed the leash and hurried
around my Jeep to make sure my dog was safely detained.

Kiska sniffed her and she laughed. “He likes
me.”

Since I assumed that to his trained nose she
smelled of cupcakes, I wasn’t all that impressed.

“If the mansion’s been broken into, we
should call the police.” I tried not to sound prim, but seriously,
this was beyond even my twisted ability to justify not involving
the authorities.

“Can’t,” Cindy announced, sounding as peppy
as a star cheerleader.

“Why not?” I was tired, she’d put my dog at
risk and, quite honestly, I was reaching the point of being
completely fed up, even at the possible cost of losing the painting
that I was sure would guarantee me a win in the window contest.

“There’s a stash of pot in there.”

“What?”

“Pot. I put it in the brownies for the kiosk
and a few other key customers. Things have been getting a bit weird
though. So the other day, I hid my back stock in the mansion.”

I stood for a minute, my mind traveling at
the speed of a greyhound hyped up on about a gallon of the Caffeine
Cartel’s darkest of dark roasts.

“You’re a drug dealer.”

She sighed, and although I couldn’t see her
expression in the dark, I felt an eye roll too. “No. It’s just pot.
Perfectly legal some places.”

Not in Montana.

“And you were selling it to the Cuties?” My
brain screaming “drug deal gone wrong,” I edged toward my passenger
door.

If I could get inside... then I remembered.
Kiska. There was no way I was going to get him inside quickly and
no way Cindy wasn’t going to notice me heaving his furry butt into
the back seat.

“You know, maybe I should leave Kiska here.
He hasn’t been feeling well.”

“Well, you can’t blame me for that.”

“Blame you? Why would I...?” Then it hit me.
Hard. “The cupcakes. There was marijuana in the cupcakes!
You
poisoned my dog!”

Cindy pushed forward. “Shhh. Someone will
hear you, and I didn’t poison your dog.
You
did. You’re
the one who left the cupcakes where he could get them.”

My outrage was overwhelming enough it took a
minute for her words to soak in. Then they did. She was right. I
had left the cupcakes where he could get them. But... “I didn’t
know they had pot in them!”

“Yeah, well... that was a mistake. I didn’t
mean to sell you those.” She sounded repentant.

I wasn’t sure if I bought it or not.
However, I had lost all desire to take Kiska and leave. Right now
my desire was more to wrap his leash around her throat and…
Realizing the direction my thoughts were going and how similar they
were to what had apparently happened to Missy, I swallowed hard and
worked to calm myself.

“I could have sold those cupcakes at a good
price. Do you think I’d basically give them away on purpose?”

Her response did nothing to soften my heart
toward her. I growled.

She growled back, but more in frustration, I
think, than anger. At least I couldn’t think of any reason she had
to be angry toward me. I, on the other hand...

“Anyway, we don’t have time for this now. We
have to get inside.”

“Why?” I was realizing that unless she was
armed, there was really no way for her to stop me from loading
Kiska back up and leaving. The worst she could do is make a scene,
and it seemed like that was something she would be reluctant to do,
what with her shushing and such.

“I told you. I got a call.”

“From whom?”

She huffed. “Kristi.”

This gave me pause. “And she told you the
mansion had been broken into?”

Cindy shuffled her feet in the loose gravel.
“Not exactly.”

I waited.

She heaved out an annoyed breath. “Fine. I
might have objected when the kiosk quit buying my brownies, and I
might have pointed out that I knew a few things the police might
find interesting.”

“You were blackmailing her?”

“That’s an ugly word.”

I rolled my eyes; unfortunately, in the
dark, it was lost to Cindy.

“Anyway, she said she was done dealing with
me and to expect a call from the police soon.”

“So?”

“I guessed that she’d figured out where I’d
left my back stock. She must have been who broke into the mansion
the last time, hoping they’d find it.”

“I think
we’re
who broke into the
mansion the last time.”

“Really?”

Yes, really... “So, your... back stock was
here then?”

“Yes, but luckily, they didn’t find it. I
thought since they had been through once, I was good. Then
tonight...”

“But why would she warn you?”

“Exactly! It’s a trap. She’s going to wait
until I’m inside and then call the police so they find me with
it.”

“And you want me...”

“To go in and get it, of course.”

“So they can find me with it?”

“You’re dating a detective, you’ve found a
dozen dead bodies and never had a charge stick. Being caught with a
little pot? No big deal.”

Pshaw... what was I worrying about?

“It has
not
been a dozen, and I
didn’t kill any of them.”

“Yeah, whatever. The point is, you have
nothing to worry about.”

“I’d have less to worry about if I just went
home.” Although I had to admit, my need to know was kicking in.
“You said the door is unlocked? Do you think Kristi is inside?”

“Has to be. Who else could it be?”

I questioned myself then. Had I locked the
door? But I knew I had.

“Have you tried calling her?”

“Why would I do that?”

“If she answers—” I stopped in frustration.
Cindy wasn’t in the mood to listen to my ideas. Besides, I didn’t
really want to call Kristi either. I did, though, want to call
someone. I pulled my phone from my pocket and pushed the side
button to bring it to life.

Cindy jerked the device from my hand and
flung it into the darkness.

“What the—”

My cry was cut off by Cindy’s hand over my
mouth. “Shhh. Someone will hear you.”

This crazy woman had just thrown away my
phone. I was pretty sure I
wanted
someone to hear me.
Before I could say this, however, she’d taken advantage of my shock
by grabbing Kiska’s leash and jogging toward the mansion.

“C’mon. Let’s go.”

My dog, who under normal circumstances would
no more heel to a leash than a rabid raccoon would, was eagerly
trotting along at her side.

The power of the scent of cupcakes or his
instinctual talent for knowing the thing I least wanted him to do
and acting on it?

Either way, there was no way I was leaving
without him. And without my phone, there was no way I was calling
for help either. I would just have to follow and figure out a plan
as I went.

o0o

When I got to the mansion, Kiska and Cindy
were already standing next to the front door, which was, as Cindy
had said, open. Not completely, but ajar.

“We can’t go in there,” I insisted. “Not if
you think it’s a trap. We need to call the police.”

“I told you, I can’t.” Cindy raised her
hands in frustration, dropping Kiska’s leash as she did. I lunged
for it. My dog, apparently taking my sudden movement his direction
as some sign that there was something forbidden, and thus fabulous,
out of his reach, bolted through the mansion’s front door and
disappeared into the darkness.

I eyed Cindy, seriously considering the
costs of throttling her while she was within reach and there were
no witnesses, but then common dog–owner sense kicked in.

If this was a trap, I did not want Kiska
caught in it. I pushed the baker out of my way and followed my
dog.

My hand automatically reached for the wall,
where I expected to find a light switch. Instead, my fingers were
knocked aside by Cindy’s as she barreled through the door after
me.

I could feel her glare.

Fine. We were both angry, but I had right on
my side, and I was taking it and my dog and leaving this place as
quickly as I could.

I stood still, listening for the telltale
sound of tags jingling.

“The pot’s in the butler’s pantry. There’s a
fake back in one of the cabinets.”

News of such a storage space would normally
have intrigued me enough to forget whatever other issues I might
have been dealing with, but Cindy had pushed me too far and my dog
was still missing.

“I have to find Kiska,” I mumbled back.

“The pantry is off the kitchen,” she
replied.

I wasn’t sure if she knew food would be the
number one attractant for my dog or if she was simply giving me
directions to where she wanted me to go, but either way, kitchen it
was.

Cindy led the way.

Kiska was not in the kitchen. He wasn’t in
the pantry either.

I left Cindy there, tugging at the back of a
cabinet and felt my way around the dark house. My hand knocked into
a lamp and, defying Cindy’s orders, I pulled the chain to light
things up.

The lamp clicked, but no light went on.

Something in my gut tightened. Could just be
the bulb, I told myself, and stumbled back toward the kitchen where
I knew there would have to be an overhead light.

I found the switch and flipped it
upward.

Nothing.

“Cindy?”

“What?” She sounded stressed.

There was a pop of a board being jerked out
of tight quarters and then a curse.

“It’s gone!”

“Cindy?”

“Did you hear me? She took it! When I get my
hands on her—”

Something hit me in the back of the knees. I
spun and fell forward, but caught myself on a kitchen cabinet.
Something knocked against me again, softer and more of a steady
press than an actual hit. I reached down and felt fur.
Thank
—

Another hit. This to my knees.
What
the...

Kiska inhaled. The loud deep inhale he did
when he’d found something interesting. Fearing he’d found Cindy’s
lost marijuana stash, I located his collar and jerked him back.

Now to get out of here.

The thought had barely formed in my head
when I was hit again. A definite forceful blow to my shins. Wishing
once again for my phone so I could see what lay before me, I took a
deep breath and leaned forward. My hands touched cloth and then
skin. Warm skin.

I jerked, but then relaxed. I’d found
another body, but this one, thankfully, was alive.

“Lucy! Did you hear me? She took it!” Cindy
yelled.

The body, whoever it was, wiggled, moving so
my fingers brushed against what I soon recognized as the smooth
material of Duct Tape. I fumbled and felt until I found an edge and
then I yanked.

The body squeaked, then... “Lucy! Is that
you!? You have to get me out of here!”

I jerked back, not sure what to do next. It
seemed I’d found Kristi.

“My feet. My hands. Do you have a
knife?”

Kristi rolled back and forth alternately
presenting her hands and feet to me, presumably to be freed from
more Duct Tape.

From the pantry, Cindy yelled again, “Is
that her? Hold her! Don’t let her leave!”

As Kristi flopped across the ground like a
dying carp, I really didn’t think that was going to be an
issue.

A light blared in my face, blinding me.
“What? Good job! How’d you get her tied up so fast?”

“I didn’t.”

“Untie me!”

We were all yelling and squabbling, so
intent on our situation that we were oblivious to anything
else.

Behind me a new voice spoke, “Well, I didn’t
expect this.”

Cindy spun, directing the beam of her
flashlight in the direction of the voice, in the direction of
Rachel, dressed in her Cutie T and carrying a handgun.

“Oh, Lucy. I am sorry to see you here. I
liked you. I really did.”

Rachel didn’t waste time on niceties, like
letting me know her role in trussing Kristi up and luring Cindy to
the mansion. She didn’t bother filling me in on how right or wrong
the other
WIL
ers, Betty and I had been on everything else
either.