Read Oliver Twisted (An Ivy Meadows Mystery Book 3) Online

Authors: Cindy Brown

Tags: #cozy mystery, #cozy mystery series, #detective novels, #women sleuths, #british cozy mystery, #amateur sleuth, #female sleuth

Oliver Twisted (An Ivy Meadows Mystery Book 3) (14 page)

BOOK: Oliver Twisted (An Ivy Meadows Mystery Book 3)
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CHAPTER 35

Trembling in the Balance

  

I don’t know exactly what I dreamt about—I think it involved my mother and maybe a dog—but I woke up early with family on my mind. I wasn’t one of those people who put a lot of stock in where I came from. I had never been really interested in my ancestry, didn’t know most of my extended family, and did not look forward to the annual Christmas get-together with my parents. In fact, before yesterday, if someone had asked me if family was the most important thing in my life, I probably would have said no. After all, I was single, no kids, and my parents and I barely spoke. But I had somehow missed the fact that the two most important people to me in the world were my uncle and my brother. And now, I suddenly was slapped upside the head with the fact that I might lose them. Oh, I knew I was being dramatic. Cody would probably be home by nightfall and Uncle Bob wasn’t going anywhere, even if it felt like it. That’s it. I
felt
it, that potential for loss. My conversation with Val last night really drove it home. How would it feel to be completely alone in the world?

My cell rang.

“Omigod, doesn’t anyone call you during normal hours?” Ada said from the bottom bunk in a groggy, pissed-off voice.

I grabbed my ringing cell from near my pillow, looked at the number, and clambered out of the top bunk. “Matt?” I whispered as I padded to the bathroom.

“I can still hear you,” Ada said. I shut the bathroom door.

“God, I’m glad I caught you, I’ve been trying for hours.”

I sat down hard on the toilet lid. “Tell me.”

“They found Cody.”

“And?” I held my breath.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry. I haven’t been sleeping. I’m not thinking straight.”

“Matt.”

“Sorry. Cody’s okay. So is Stu. I left a bunch of messages, but I hadn’t heard from you.” I suspected all those messages were queued up on my phone now that we were in range again. I really needed to get a better cell plan when I got back to Phoenix. “I wanted to make sure you knew, and to thank you.”

“To thank me?”

“Cody said you helped him find Stu.”

“I did? Where was he?”

“Costco.”

I smothered a laugh. “Of course.” Stu loved Costco. The guys from the group home took regular trips there for cheap lunches made up of food samples and hotdogs.

“Cody said you told him to think about where Stu would feel safe at night. He figured it out right away. Your parents convinced the manager to let Cody in after hours.”

My parents?

“And he found Stu hidden between stacks of cookies and the wall. He’d made a little nest there for himself with a bunch of pillows and lots of chocolate.” Stu’s sweet tooth was famous. “Costco isn’t pressing charges, given the situation, but Stu’s going to have to pay them back for everything he ate.”

I laughed out loud, mostly out of relief, but also at the image of Stu happily eating his way through Costco’s candy section.


Ivy
,” Ada said from the other room.

“And Stu’s okay?” I whispered.

“Looks like it. He didn’t have any seizures while he was gone. They checked him out at the ER to be safe. Everything looks fine.”

“And Cody?”

“You should see him, Ivy. He found his friend in time to keep him safe. He’s so proud. And so are your parents.”

“They’re not pissed?”

Matt laughed. “Yeah, well, a little. But they also got to see what Cody’s capable of. It’s like they’re looking at him with new eyes. I wish you were here to see it.” He paused. “Actually, I just wish you were here.”

“Me too.” I let out the breath I’d been holding for days. “Thank you, Matt. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” I pressed the phone against my cheek, as if I could embrace Matt through the phone line.

“It’s all right.” Matt’s voice sounded husky. “Everything’s all right. But still, come home soon, okay? Come home soon.”

CHA
PTER 36

More Than a Trifle in Liquor

  

After I texted Uncle Bob, I showered away the soreness in my muscles, got dressed in my Nancy costume (I was on ambient character duty at nine), and ran up to the London Lido deck. I wanted to share my news with someone other than Ada, who had chewed me out for talking so loudly at the ungodly hour of eight a.m. I wandered among the crowd on the outdoor deck, enjoying the fine sunny morning and the salty-smelling breeze.

Hey, was that David?

I blinked and the Dodger’s battered top hat was gone, swallowed by the sea of passengers. But bobbing among their faces was a familiar square-jawed profile. “Jonas,” I said. “They found Cody. He’s all right.”

“Great, Ivy.” Jonas sounded like he needed coffee and looked like he’d been made up for some plague movie, his face yellowish, purple shadows under his eyes. “Good for you.”

Good for me? Was that sincerity or snark?

“Have you seen Valery?” he asked.

“What? No.”

Jonas’s eyes scanned the crowd on deck. “Maybe he’s around the corner.” He turned away.

Okay, this was more off-again than usual. Way more. What was up with—

“Omigod, I am such an idiot,” I said to Jonas’s back. “Here I am talking about finding my family when you’ve just lost yours. I’m so sorry about your stepdad.”

He faced me with a half-smile that I couldn’t read. “It was pretty quick, so he didn’t suffer. And we weren’t exactly close.” He leaned into me, presenting me with the sour smell of booze on un-brushed teeth. “Because I didn’t want to be. Theo was a horrible, horrible man.”

“I thought you two made up.”

“Oh, there’s Valery.” Jonas lit out for Val, who puffed on an e-cigarette while talking to a couple of young women. I followed, just to keep an eye on Jonas. I wondered if he’d slept. I wondered how much he’d had to drink last night. I wondered if he was still nipping at the bottle this morning.

“Valery!” Jonas said, too loudly. He slung an arm around Val’s skinny shoulders. “We have things to discuss.”

Val puffed out another stream of vapor before putting the e-cig in his pocket. The smell it left behind was sweet, like a Jolly Rancher, but it also made me feel slightly sick. Couldn’t say why.

“Ivy, sweet pea.” Jonas turned to me. “I’m not mad at you. How could I be, with all you’ve done for me?”

“All I’ve done?”

“But if you would excuse us.” Jonas steered Val away from me. “We’re going to get a drink.”

  

“Maybe he wants a Bloody Mary,” I said to Timothy when I found him at the breakfast buffet. “That’s good for a hangover, right? Hair of the dog and all that?”

Timothy made a little “pfft” noise like a cynical Frenchman.

I trotted next to him as he filled his tray with breakfast meats (but no blood pudding). “I’m sure that remark about Theo being horrible was just the booze talking.”

“Pfft.” Timothy reached for a very un-Dickensian onion bagel. I took the opportunity to steal a piece of bacon from his plate.

“I mean, he wouldn’t have gotten so drunk if he didn’t care.”

“Pff—”

“If you keep doing that your face is going to freeze that way.”

Timothy stretched his lips just to show his face wasn’t going to freeze any time soon. “You’re not lusting after Jonas, are you? Because if you are, you’re going to be very disappointed.”

“I am only interested in Jonas as a friend.” And as an investigative lead/maybe suspect. “But he’s not gay. He hasn’t had a boyfriend since you’ve been onboard, right?”

“Closeted doesn’t mean straight.”

“Pfft,” I said to him.

“Well, whatever bus he rides, the competition will be stiff now.”

“What? Why?” I said, eating my stolen piece of bacon.

“Didn’t you hear? I mean, it was you who said Jonas and Theo made up.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Theo changed his will. Jonas is now worth millions.”

CHAPTER 37

A Real and Thorough Bad One

  

I went outside on deck. I needed time by myself to think, but there was really no place to be alone on the ship. The deck was the next best thing.

The wind had picked up and the air was salty enough I could taste it. Just a few people ambled up and down, chatting or looking for dolphins. I turned my back to the ship and all the people and distractions and faced the sea. The water was gray and foamy white, but no icy hand clenched my gut and the ship deck felt stable underneath me. Cody was fine and water was not my enemy.

I tried to organize my thoughts. It may have been just my relief over Cody’s safety, but everything seemed to revolve around family: Jonas’s stepdad, Harley’s mom, Val’s…no one. And those connections tangled with my investigation questions. Was Jonas still a thief? Was Harley murdered? Was Val a pickpocket? I’d been on the ship nearly five days and I had more questions than when I’d begun. That ten-thousand-dollar bonus seemed further away than ever.

Focus, Ivy. Jonas first. It seems he was a thief, at least a juvenile one. Could he still be a criminal? I thought back over all of our interactions, every time I’d seen Jonas. Nothing seemed suspicious.

And Harley. How did she die? Death by natural causes was awfully weird for a twenty-nine-year-old. If that were the case, why would someone shove her in a closet? Was she connected to the thefts somehow?

Then there was Val. That was who I really needed to think about. It did seem as though he’d picked that guy’s pocket at breakfast the other day. But Val was naked in my bed when the thefts occurred during the ball. That didn’t mean he couldn’t have stolen things
throughout the evening. People didn’t often notice things missing until later. And Val confused me. In the middle of all that goofiness there was a core sweetness, like a nutty candy bar with caramel at its center. But I’d also seen his Bill Sikes. Acting or Val’s dark side?

As I pondered the Val question I saw Oliver out of the corner of my eye. He was without his clutch of sea urchins for a change. And he was picking a man’s pocket.

“Oliver!” I shouted, advancing on him. “Give that back.”

He started, as did the elderly man whose wallet he had just lifted. A gray-haired woman next to them shook her head. “George,” she said to her husband. “For heaven’s sake. I
told
you to leave your wallet in the room safe.”

“Begging your pardon, sir,” said Oliver, handing the man back his wallet. “But I was hungry.” He scampered off.

I caught him by the collar of his jacket. “Hungry, are you? And with all these free buffets.”

“Works every time,” he said in a whisper. “Don’t say anything and I’ll cut you in on the next deal.”

Could the answer to the theft ring really be this simple? “How about I turn you into ship security instead?” Oliver squirmed, but I had a good hold on him. “Or maybe you could tell me everything you know about the thefts onboard.”

“Mom!” he yelled. “Nancy’s hurting me.”

A plump woman in a nautical-themed top steamed toward us. “Again?”

“Again?” I said.

“The last Nancy manhandled my boy too. That’s why she was dismissed.”

Dismissed my ass. I bet she practically ran off the ship.

“What is it with you actresses?” The stripes on Oliver’s mom’s t-shirt quivered with indignation.

“What is it with your son? I just saw him steal that man’s wallet.”

“Oh, that.” She smiled as if Oliver had done something cute. “He’s just playing at being Oliver Twist. He always gives them back. Don’t you, Ollie?”

Oliver’s face screwed up upon hearing his nickname. I filed away that useful fact away for later.

“And you, miss,” said his mother. “If you don’t stay away from my son, there will be yet another Nancy onboard. You can take that to the bank.” Her face blanched as the ship rolled, but she swallowed hard and managed to stalk away, head held high. Oliver trailed behind, sticking out this tongue at me when she wasn’t looking.

The sweet scent of e-cig vapor floated on the air. “That boy,” said Madalina’s heavily accented voice behind me. “He should be fed to the wolves. And that woman should not wear stripes.”

Both were true. Regarding Oliver, well, that was self-explanatory. And Oliver’s mom may have been going for the French sailor thing, but she looked more like a buoy. Madalina, on the other hand, was like a pearl in a short off-white linen shift with just a touch of sheen. A dress like that had to take a big chunk out of a ghostwriter’s salary. If Madalina was a writer. I mean, why would Theo hire someone with such a limited grasp of—yikes, Ivy, remember your manners. “I’m sorry about Theo,” I said.

Madalina lifted one shoulder in a languid shrug. “I was employee, not friend.”

“Are you still an employee? I mean, are you going to finish his memoirs?”

“Probably not.” She turned to face the sea.

“So you’re out of a job?”

“I was paid in advance, and I am never out of a job for long.” Her voice sounded jaded and weary.

“Did Theo put you in his new will?” Arghh. A little obvious, Ivy. I really needed to be craftier about this stuff.

“Of course not. Like I said, I am employee. Ah, you want to know about the new will.” Yep, really needed to work on subtlety. “I was there as witness.” Madalina didn’t seem to mind my question. Maybe she appreciated directness. “Jonas is now very, very rich. You helped.”

“I did?

“Theo liked you.”

“I don’t know why everyone cared so much.”

“That is one reason I like you. Too many suck up Theo.” She tilted her head. “Or is it ‘suck up to?’”

“The second.” Good thing Madalina liked me. Maybe she wouldn’t mind another fairly direct question. “Who was the other witness?” You could legally write a will without a lawyer, but there did need to be two witnesses.

“The captain. His wife was there also.” Madalina’s voice was low and throaty, her accent similar to Val’s. Which was Eastern European.

“You have a beautiful accent,” I said. “Are you Russian?”

“Rumanian.” She blew out a final stream of vapor and put her e-cigarette into a small crossbody bag. “Though I think my father was Russian.”

“You think?”

“I did not know him. Or my mother. I am orphan.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She turned to me, her eyes hard. “You think I joke?”

“No, sorry, sorry. It’s just that Val—he plays Bill Sikes—he’s from Russia. He’s an orphan too.”

“There are more of us than you think. Especially from our part of the world.”

My mind pulled up grainy photos of children in long rows of rickety cribs.

Big heads on malnourished bodies, babies tied to beds, enormous pleading eyes. “Sorry again. Really,” I said. “And I am sorry about Theo. Even though you weren’t friends, I know you must be upset.”

“I do not get upset.”

Except for outbursts at the bar. Hey. Since Madalina obviously knew Bette, maybe she could help me figure out the connection to Theo. “Do you know anything about Theo ruining someone’s life?”

“Hah.” Madalina gave an elegant snort. “Theo ruined many people’s lives.”

BOOK: Oliver Twisted (An Ivy Meadows Mystery Book 3)
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