Murder on Consignment (15 page)

I wasn’t
all that familiar with Skokie, so it took a while for me to find the Mega Electronic Mart. As it turned out, it was the anchor store in a sprawling strip mall surrounded by other popular stores like Pet-O-Rama and Books Unlimited. In the front part of the lot, facing south, stood the new JimDogs restaurant, its bright yellow and brown exterior standing as a beacon of fast food bliss.

I parked across the lot and watched for a while. A small line was formed outsi
de the front door where an orange ‘now hiring’ sign flapped in the breeze. I could see what was probably J.J’s vehicle parked at the side of the building.

As I watched the line dwindle down, I formulated a plan of action. All I needed was one great disguise. Then, once I was on
their inside track, it would be easy to see what the Ferrells were really up to. What could be a better cover than that of a hot dog turning, bun-stuffing, JimDog employee? I needed to act fast, though. According to the sign, interviews were only being held until four o’clock.

Twenty minutes later, I was in the restroom at Value Mart, tra
nsforming myself into a future JimDog employee. A quick pass through the aisles and a whopping eighty-four dollar charge to my Visa had netted me the perfect disguise. Luckily, Halloween was just a couple of weeks away, so it was no problem finding a wig to cover my red curls. Of course, since I didn’t think JimDogs would be hiring a Mistress of the Dark, I had to tweak the wig a bit; but a few twists and several well placed hair pins had me looking more like a dark haired version of Aunt Bee than a sexy vampiress. I topped off the disguise with an extra coat of dark foundation to hide my freckles and a pair of black rimmed reading glasses perched low on my nose. By chance, I found a great black knit wrap dress on clearance. I paired it with some low black flats I’d scored for a mere fifteen bucks.

I nodded at my reflection in the mirror. Gone was any trace of my wild red hair and freckles. Before me stood the newly transformed, efficient-looking, fast food diva extraordinaire. Perfect.

I parked on the other side of the lot and hoofed it to JimDogs just in case J.J. might recognize my vehicle. By the time I reached the door, the line had dwindled down to only a few people.

I waited my turn patiently while eavesdropping on a bouncy teen girl
who said her name was Ashley. She claimed she’d make a great employee due to her three years of babysitting experience for Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpatrick’s two rowdy boys, but would absolutely need Mondays, Wednesdays, and most weekends off because of her prior commitment to the Wolves cheerleading squad; and, by the way, could only work as a cashier because kitchen grease makes her skin break out.

Geez, today’s youth had no work ethic. I scoffed and tuned her out. Scannin
g the place, I searched for signs of JimDog Junior. He was nowhere to be seen.

The restaurant looked ready to go, except for the restrooms and kitchen
, which were still receiving a few final touches. Frequently, men filed past me carrying buckets, trowels, and heavy boxes of floor tiles. In the back, a makeshift table with several tools and what looked to be a large saw was set up.

I continued to wait patiently in line, trying to ignore the small Hispanic man in front of me who kept turning around and smiling. He was saying something in Spanish, but I had no idea what. Maybe with the wig and extra dark makeup, I reminded him of someone he knew. Whatever the case, he was driving me nuts. All I wanted
to do was get the gig, so I could get in close with J.J. and see what he was up to. Plus, the way I had been neglecting my business, it wouldn’t hurt to make a few extra bucks.

“Mr. Ortiz,” the woman conducting the interview called out. The Hispanic man turned and gave me one more grin before making his way toward the back booth. I caught a whiff of flowery cologne as Ashley sashayed by me with a smug look. She apparently felt confident that she had landed a job.

I briefly wondered how the woman conducting the interview had known Mr. Ortiz’s name. Hopefully there wasn’t some sort of sign-up sheet I’d missed.

I was
about to ask, when J.J. burst out of the kitchen area. “She can’t do this now!” he yelled into his cell. “Where is she?” 

I pulled out my own cell and pretended to be engrossed in texting someone all the while keeping a sharp ear on J.J.

“Find her and tell her to get herself home. I don’t need this now. I’ve got enough stress without having to worry about her crap.”

He paused a
nd listened. What he heard made him angrier. He snapped his cell shut and stomped out the door. I could see him heading for his car. I was about to head out to follow him when I heard a voice behind me.

“Are you the woman
I spoke to earlier on the phone?” It was the interview lady.

I opened my mouth to reply, but she didn’t give me a chance. Shaking my
hand firmly, she continued, “I’ve been waiting for you. I’m Devon Ashcroft. I lost the paper I wrote your name on and couldn’t contact you, so I’m so glad you stopped by. I was afraid I wouldn’t get this position filled in time.” I didn’t know what to say, so I simply nodded in agreement.

She smiled. “Well, I have
your paperwork and itinerary ready for you,” she said, handing me a large vanilla envelope. “All you have to do is show up at ten and be ready to work. Fill out and bring the paperwork back with you, okay?”

I started to correct her, but she continued talking as she gently guided me toward the door. “Mr. Farrell was just called out on a family emergency, or I would have introduced you to him. You’ll be working next to him all day on Saturday,” she added.

Oh, that sounded good. Just the opportunity I was looking for. “Uh, what time did you say I’d be finishing?” I asked. Cherry’s wedding was on Saturday, and there’s no way I could miss it. My mother would kill me.

“Oh, you’ll easily be out of here by four.”

I smiled, clenched my envelope, and gave her a final wave as I left.

That was the easiest interview I had ever had. Although, I did feel slightly irritated that I didn’t get a chance to follow J.J. His phone conversation was intriguing. From what I heard, I assumed Morgan was giving him trouble.

I continued to ponder the Farrell family dynamics as I shopped around for a new computer. I finally settled on a mid-range machine, but splurged on a larger, flat screened monitor. Why not?  I just hoped my insurance money came through soon. My Visa couldn’t take much more action.

Chapter 17

On the way home, I grabbed a large pizza and took a detour by the hospital to see how Shep was doing. I found him sitting up in bed watching a decorating show. To my surprise, he had more color than last time I had seen him.

“Hi
, doll. Come on in. Oh my, is that pizza?”

I flipped open the lid. “Yup. Pepperoni and mushroom.”

“Oh, my favorite.” He scooted over and patted a spot on the bed next to him and pointed at the television. “I usually love this show, but really … the designer isn’t doing this room any justice. Check out that chaise. Gaudy, don’t you think?”

I looked
at the screen and shrugged. I actually thought it looked pretty good, but I kept my comments to myself. My knowledge of interior design was no match for Shep’s skills.

I wiggled under his
IV tube and made myself comfortable next to him on the bed. I opened the pizza box across our laps and we dug in.

“My parents just left to go home and get some rest for a couple of days,” Shep said as he slowly nibbled on some pizza. “I’m glad, too. Not that I don’t like to have them here, but they’re driving me crazy. They’re constantly fussing.”

Making up for lost time, I thought; but I didn’t say anything. I could never be as forgiving as Shep. His parents had thrown him out of the house when he was just a teen. What kind of parents did that? Wasn’t a parent supposed to love their child unconditionally?

“You’re looking better today,” I finally said, but inside I was praying that this wasn’t the rise before the fall.

“Yeah, well you’re looking pretty good yourself. That’s not your usual choice of dresses. Is it new?” 

I glanced down and chuckled. “Yup. Just bought it today. It really looked good paired with a long black wig.”

“A disguise? What were you up to?”

I relayed the day’s events and updated him on the Farrells. “I’m moving away from JimDog senior and focusing on J.J. and his wi
fe Morgan for a while. I’m about a hundred percent sure that she’s having an affair with Alex Sokolov,” I said, telling him about the leg. “Today at the restaurant, I overheard J.J. talking on the phone to someone. He was distraught. I’m thinking Morgan may have left him. They haven’t been getting along at all.”

“Could be,” Shep agreed. “But what’s that have to do with Pauline?”

“I’m not sure yet. I was just thinking the envelope Pauline found might have had something in it that Alex needs. Maybe something that assures he’ll inherit part of the Farrell fortune.” I shrugged. “I don’t know. It could be he and Morgan are in it together. There was the lady who paid a thousand dollars at A to Z Estate Sales and the man and woman shopping at the Retro when Pauline found the envelope. Maybe it was them.”

Shep didn’t look so sure.

I went on, trying to convince him. “It has to be something with the envelope, Shep. Pauline found it in an old book. Owen said he’d shelved books from the Sokolov estate and that there was a lady in the Retro Metro looking at them. Then there were the books in the garbage at The Classy Closet, plus the book I saw in JimDog’s den. It was written in Russian, too. So, someone was searching for the book with the envelope.”

Shep was strangely quiet.

“I know it seems like I’m spinning my wheels, but something is sure to break soon. I know, Shep, that it involves the Farrells. I need to stay close to the family until I discover something.”

He sighed, a shallow labored sigh. “Sur
e, doll. You’ll get it. It makes me sad to think Pauline was killed over something she found inside a book. What a waste. Tanner didn’t have any better idea as to what she had found?”

“No, just that it was some sort of legal looking document. Pauline was going to show it to him at dinner, but ….”

“But, she never had the chance,” Shep finished. His mood was quickly deteriorating, and I was starting to feel guilty about dumping all this in his lap. The last thing he needed was to become depressed. I vowed to have more answers for him next time.

I gave him a hug and quick peck on the cheek. “Hate to eat and run, Shep, but I’ve got a
lot of work to do tonight. I bought a new computer and I need to set it up,” I explained, not mentioning that someone broke in and destroyed my old machine. No need to worry him further.

I left, promising to be back in a couple of days.

I returned home to find Mom and Sean in my kitchen. They were sitting at my bar, laughing over a couple of cans of soda. It was times like these that I missed my old brownstone downtown. At least there, I never came home to find uninvited people in my kitchen.

“Hi, Mom. Hey Sean, glad you’re here,” I lied. I plopped the computer box down on the cabinet and opened the fridge. I bent over and squinted and then scowled at my mother.

“Sorry dear, there were only a couple left. Sean’s had a long day at work, you know. He needed something cool to drink.”

Unbelievable. They drank my last soda. “That’s fine,” I mumbled.
“Water would be better for me anyway.” I grabbed a glass off the counter and filled it from the tap. “What’s up, guys?” I asked.

“Well, I stopped over to tell you something and found Sean sitting i
n the drive. I thought I’d invite him up for a cool drink. He is doing us a favor, after all. And we’re so fortunate to have him here after yesterday’s break-in, don’t you agree, dear?”

“Uh, huh,
” I said, sipping water and waiting for the other shoe to drop. I knew my mother. There was more to this than simple hospitality.

“I was just telling Sean about your current dilemma,” she added, not missing a beat.

Oh, boy. Here it came. “What dilemma?” 

“Cherry’s wedding.”

“Cherry’s wedding?” I asked. I was afraid of where this was leading.

“Oh for Pete’s sake, Phillipena! You need an escort for your cousins wedding this weekend and did you ever go to the single’s meeting at church? No
,” she answered for me. “Well, I went for you.”

“You what?”

“I went for you. Let me tell you, there wasn’t a single good prospect there.”

Sean chuckled.

“Mom, I’m not a piece of real-estate. You don’t need to scope out a buyer for me.” 

She threw up her hands. “Well, then, what am I supposed
to do? Knowing you, I doubt you thought to ask someone and it’s imperative that you not go alone. I mean, how would that look? My sister’s daughter, who happens to be much younger than you by the way, is marrying a wonderful man this weekend and you’re going to embarrass me by showing up unattended. Like my own daughter can’t find a suitable man to take her to the wedding. It’s bad enough you haven’t settled down yet, but at least you can be decent enough to at least act as if you have a perspective—”

I held up my hand. “Oh, please stop, Mom. That’s none of your business … please
,” I pleaded.

Sean continued watching the whole scene with interest as he sipped away at my soda.

She dismissed my pleas with a wave of her hand which she lovingly placed on Sean’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, dear. I’ve taken care of it. Sean is going to take you to the wedding. I might add,” she said, patting his arm and smiling at him admirably, “that this young man is so wonderful. Why, your father and I owe him for all that he’s done for us lately.”

I grimaced. Owed him? Like she needed to pay someone to take care of me? 

“You know, why don’t you let us repay you for your trouble?” she said rising from her chair and making her way to the door. “I’ve got to go now. Phillip and I are meeting friends in a few minutes, but I insist that you come over soon for dinner, Sean. I bet a bachelor like you doesn’t get many home cooked meals. I’ll have Phil cook one of his specialties. Just let Phillipena know when it would work in your schedule,” she added, wiggling her fingers and tossing him one last loving smile.

I let out a huge sigh as soon as the door shut. “I’m so sorry, Sean.”

He smirked at me over the rim of the can. “Don’t be. I didn’t have any plans for this Saturday. The wedding might be fun. I like your outfit, by the way.”

I looked down at my spur of the moment purchase. A pang of panic hit as I realized with a jolt that, in just a couple of days, he was going to see me in the hideous orange bride’s maid dress.

“It’s cute, but not really your normal style,” he added.

“I needed it for an interview.”

He raised a brow. “An interview?”

“Yup. You’re looking at a new JimDog employee.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “Oh, no. What have you been up to?”

“Well, I got a jo
b at the new JimDogs opening in Skokie. I start Saturday, but don’t worry; I’ll be done in time for you to take me to the wedding.”

“Is this some sort of ploy to get closer to the Farrells?”

“Yes it is,” I said, matter-of-factly.

“How are you going to do that? The Farrells already know what you look like.”

“I have a disguise.”

“Oh, that explains the weird coloring on your face.”

I wet a dishtowel and began rubbing off the dark makeup. “It’s these freckles. They give me away.”

He nodded. “What exactly is your new job description?”

“Uh, well, I’m not exactly sure. It’s all right here, though.” I retrieved the manila envelope from my bag and opened it. “I don’t understand,” I said glancing over the paperwork.

Sean took the papers from me and read them over. He broke out laughing. “This is a contract for independent work. Apparently you’ve agreed to four hours of public relations and marketing.” He was still laughing.

“Well that doesn’t sound so bad,” I inserted, not getting the joke.

“As a giant wiener!” He was practically rolling on the ground now. “You’re going to be a giant wiener! Didn’t you read this before agreeing to do the job?  It’s all here. There’s even an attachment to the contract that says you’ll take financial responsibility if the costume is damaged or lost. You didn’t read it, did you?” He was clutching his gut and waving the papers in the air,
still laughing. I was glad I was providing so much comic relief for him.

“Well, that’s a perfect cover if
you ask me. There’s no way JimDog Junior or any other Farrell will recognize me in a giant hotdog suit. I can follow them around all day and listen to their conversations.”

That took a little wind out of his sails. He stopped laughing long enough to give me a stern warning. “Giant hotdog or not, you be careful.” Then, he rolled the paperwork and pointed it at me, another grin slowly breaking out on his face. “I would hate for you to get your buns cooked … or leak ketchup everywhere … or worse yet get eaten alive by one of those goons.” 

I punched him in the arm and joined his laughter. We were having so much fun, I was about to ask him if he wanted to go out for a drink or something, when suddenly the sound of breaking glass and squealing tires interrupted our joviality.

Sean leapt into action, practically pushing me aside on his way to the door. He was
down the steps with his gun drawn, before I even made it out of my apartment.

I looked down at my drive where he was standing, already talking on his cell. “Get back inside,” he yelled.

I obeyed, pacing back and forth inside my tiny apartment until he came back a couple of minutes later.

“Someone shot out your car windows,” h
e said, positioning himself in front of the window overlooking the alley and drive.

“What!”

“They must have done it while driving by. They got the back and the two driver’s side windows. From what I can tell it wasn’t done with a heavy firearm. Probably a .22 caliber. I’ll know more when my team arrives.” 

I swallowed hard. “A .22 caliber?  Is that big enough to kill someone?”

“Yes,” he said, still watching through the window.

I shivered. “My parents must have left before this happened, or they wo
uld have been over immediately,” I commented.

Sean shook his head in agreement. “Actually, it’s possible that whoever did this was watching the house and waited for them to leave.”

That gave me a weird feeling. I didn’t like the possibility of some weirdo watching my parents.

He backed away from th
e window. “The guys are here. I’m sure it’s safe if you want to come down and check out the damage.”

I have to admit, I looked over my shoulder more than a few times as we stood in my back alley surveying the damage to my car. Who had done thi
s and why?  I had no doubt someone was sending me a warning to back off the case. That could only mean one thing; I was getting closer to the truth.

I surveyed the damage. This sucked. All this investigating had taken me away from my business so I was almost completely broke. Plus, I hated to turn in another claim to insurance; my rates would hit the roof. I’d just have to make do for a while. I had a nasty vision of cardboard and duct tape. My beloved Volvo was starting to look like a gangster-mobile.

A sudden thought occurred to me. I left Sean to do his work, while I skipped back upstairs to check out the contract again. I wondered how much money a giant wiener got paid. Hopefully enough to replace a few car windows.