Rose and Helena Save Christmas: a novella (12 page)

Taylor nodded. “If I offer the other detective a way to cut Savoy off at the knees
and
get the promotion, I think Detective Broussard will jump at it. I got his cell number from a mutual friend. If tonight goes down like we hope, I’ll call him to come make the arrest before Savoy gets wind of anything.”
 

“That’s smart and sneaky. I like it.”

Taylor rolled the jacket up and tucked it under her arm as she turned to face the mirror. “How do I look?”

Both she and Helena scrutinized her appearance. For a complete tomboy, Taylor thought she’d done well. The dress was black and made of some stretchy material that made movement easy. It came to her knees, leaving her legs free for running. And God forbid, if it came to that, she could easily step out of her medium-heeled pumps and sprint barefoot. Her usual ponytail was gone, replace by an upswept hairdo with shiny black combs holding it all in place.
 

“You look good,” Helena said.

“You sound surprised.”

“Well…”

“Never mind.” Taylor didn’t know what had possessed her to ask the ghost about her outfit of choice, especially given what Helena had selected for their mission.

All one had to do was Google “Lady Gaga Christmas outfit” and up popped pictures of Helena’s outfit of choice. The jumpsuit was tight, red, and entirely too short, which was fine for the young and thin Gaga, but not so much for an old ghost. If one pictured Mrs. Claus in that outfit, it was a closer fit. Her hair was bright and shiny Christmas green, which was disturbing enough, but the headpiece was the real kicker. Sprigs of fir tree branches shot out in every direction, balls dangling from the ends. A gold ornament perched on top completed the catastrophe.

The only good part was she’d left off the absolutely absurd and impossible-to-walk-in shoes that Gaga had worn and opted instead for black lace-up army boots. Taylor hoped Neely Kate got a good eyeful of Helena and learned not to encourage her. Helena was the last person, dead or alive, who needed encouragement.

 
“Let’s do this,” Taylor said and grabbed her purse and car keys.

She’d planned their arrival at the theater to be an hour before the play started, so only a handful of people roamed the amphitheater when they walked in. She scanned the lobby, trying to determine the best vantage point, and finally decided on a bench toward the front of the lobby and centered in between two statues. From there, she’d have a clear view of people coming in, but if she edged over on the bench toward one of the plants on the side, the foliage would provide her with a little coverage.
 

While she waited, she took out her phone and set up a text message to Detective Broussard in case time was of the essence when she needed to send it.

My name is Taylor Beaumont and I’m a private investigator. I have evidence that Madame Serafine was murdered by diamond smugglers using her shop to move merchandise. I know who the killer is and have proof. Get to the
Wicked
production before Detective Savoy shows up and takes the glory and the promotion.

She read the text and smiled. That should get his attention. Now, she just prayed she had a reason to send it.
 

“This is boring,” Helena said.

Taylor nodded, even though she didn’t really agree. Normally, it would be boring to sit on a bench staring at doors, but she was so pumped up thinking over all the possible endings for the night’s adventure that she was certain her pulse rate was through the roof.
 

Then Helena started bitching and the minutes began to drag. Taylor almost cheered when the first patrons started to arrive thirty minutes later. “Go near the doors,” she said to Helena. “If the crowd gets too large, I might not be able to see everyone entering. If you see Arden James, then yell.”

“Got it!” Helena jumped up from the bench and took off across the lobby, the ornaments on her headpiece swinging as she walked.

Taylor had hoped James would show up early and the entire thing would be over and done with before Rose and Neely Kate arrived. The boss had already tortured and killed one woman, and Taylor had no doubt that he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again if he thought it meant getting his diamonds. Despite Rose’s claim that the two had been involved in some criminal escapades, Taylor worried about getting them involved, especially Neely Kate. Taylor would never forgive herself if the stress of the situation did something to Neely Kate’s baby.

But as more and more people piled into the theater, her hopes of a quick evidence collection and exit faded away. She wasn’t happy about it, but it made sense. It was far easier for James to make the drop unnoticed in a crowd.
 

A flash of red caught her eye, and she looked over to see Rose and Neely Kate walking in. Then a wide screen of red completely blocked her view as Helena ran over to them. Neely Kate slowed a bit and looked at Helena from head to toe, then winked. Good God. Taylor would never get the ghost in regular clothes again.

Helena must have told them where Taylor was because they both glanced toward the bench, but kept walking into the theater. Relief passed through Taylor that they were going along with the plan as agreed.
 

For the next twenty minutes, Taylor watched the doors like a hawk, but James never showed. She was just about to decide that there had been a change in plans for the drop or Helena had made a mistake when she saw James enter the lobby. She jumped up from the bench and started across the lobby toward James, trying to keep him within sight in the crowd but also staying far enough back that he wouldn’t notice.
 

“Ms. Beaumont, I would never have taken you for the cultured type.”

Holy shit!

Before she even turned around, she knew it was Savoy. The man’s voice literally made her back muscles tighten. As she faced him, she forced a fake smile. “I could say the same for you. So does that mean you’re following me?”

“What if I am?”
 

The cocky look on his face made her want to punch him. “Well, I’m single, but you’re not really my type. If you’re going to revert to stalking for dates, you should really consider women my mother’s age.”

Savoy’s eyes flashed with anger. “I would never lower myself to your level. You know what they say about lying with dogs.”

“Yes, but I was assuming you were the fleas in that example. Enjoy the play, Detective.” Taylor whirled around and stalked off in the direction she’d seen James disappear in, mentally cursing as she walked. Leave it to Savoy to show up at the play, putting a whole other monkey wrench in her plans to pass the arrest to another detective.
 

She scanned the crowd for Helena and saw the ghost over to the right near the bar.

God, please don’t let that bar contain food.

She made her way over to the ghost and stepped to the side of the bar and pulled out her cell phone.

“James is at the other end of the bar getting a drink,” Helena said. “What’s wrong? You look mad as hell.”

Taylor lowered her head and lifted the phone up to cover her mouth. “Savoy is here.”

“Holy crap! Did he see you?”

“Oh yeah, and the insults were flying.” She typed in a text and hit Send. “I just let Rose and Neely Kate know he’s here.” Then a thought hit her. “I wonder if he followed them.”

“Oh wow! I didn’t even think of that. If so, then they really need to stay put. Otherwise, they’d lead Savoy right to you and he’d take all the credit and probably still manage to give you and the girls grief.”

Taylor sighed. “I know.”

“Hey, James is moving.”

Taylor looked over and watched as the James picked up his whiskey and headed away from them. She set off after him, remaining at a safe distance. At the end of the lobby, he approached a gentleman at a counter that stretched the width of the lobby. She watched as James set his drink down, then removed his coat and handed it to the attendant, who passed him a piece of paper.

Taylor could barely contain her excitement. James was using coat check to make the exchange. He’d pass the ticket off to the murderer, who would pick up the coat with the money and waltz out of the theater without anyone even remotely aware of the enormous crime that had happened right under their noses. At least, that’s what they thought would happen.

She pulled the red scarf out of the coat pocket and tucked it around the collar, then draped the coat over her arm and approached the same attendant. “I’d like to check this for my uncle, please.”

“Of course.” The young man smiled at her and handed her a ticket. He placed the coat on a hanger and headed through a door into a room behind the desk.

Taylor turned around and scanned the lobby for Helena. Why was she always getting off somewhere when she was needed? A second later, the ghost popped through the wall next to Taylor, holding a meatball on a stick. As soon as she saw Taylor, Helena shoved the meatball in her mouth and swallowed it whole.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that,” Taylor said.

Helena didn’t look convinced. “Why? You never do that.”

“Because I’m too excited. James checked the money coat, so I checked mine. It’s number eighty-two. I need you to get in there and switch the claim tags on the coats. James’s coat should be next to mine.”

Helena’s eyes widened. “We got him. I mean, all you have to do is claim the coat and it’s over.”

Taylor nodded, afraid to speak. Afraid that saying the words out loud may jinx the entire thing. “Hurry up.”

“I’m going!” Helena rushed off to the coatroom, the balls clanking together as she ran.

Taylor walked back to the middle of the lobby and stepped next to a plant. She pulled out her phone and sent another text to Rose and Neely Kate.

James checked the coat. Helena is exchanging the tags. I’ll pick up the coat afterward and this whole mess will be over.

She pressed Send and almost cheered as she slipped the phone into her purse. In all her imaginings of what could happen tonight, something this simple hadn’t even been on her radar. In fact, the ease of the entire thing almost made her worry. She sucked in a breath. What if Helena wasn’t able to touch things? When she got nervous, the ghost tended to lose the one ability she needed the most.
 

She shook her head, trying to clear it of any negative thoughts. Helena would come through. She was going to keep repeating that.

Helena will come through. Helena will come through.

“Why are you standing here mumbling?” Helena’s voice sounded in front of her. “You look like a crazy person.”

“Never mind. Did you switch the tags?”

Helena gave her an indignant look. “Of course.”

Relief flooded Taylor’s body. “Great. I’m going to get the coat. Follow me and stand guard just in case James comes back.” Taylor pulled the claim tag from her purse and headed back over to the far end of the counter to the attendant who’d helped her earlier.

“I’m so sorry to bother you,” she said, “but my uncle has decided he’s cold. Can I please get his coat?”

“It’s not a bother,” the young man said. “My grandpa does the same thing.”

He went into the coatroom and returned with James’s gray coat. Taylor could barely contain her excitement as she thanked the man, but just as she was going to turn and walk away, she heard a voice farther down the counter. “I need to pick up number eighty-one.”

Her back tightened and she sucked in a breath so hard, her eyes watered.
 

“Are you all right?” the attendant asked.

Taylor nodded. “It’s my asthma.” She inched backward and sat on a metal folding chair in the corner. The statue next to it partially blocked her from view. “I’ll be fine,” she assured the attendant. “I just need to sit for a few minutes and catch my breath.”

“You’re sure?”

“I promise.”

The attendant didn’t look convinced, but much to Taylor’s relief, he headed back to the counter. Taylor peered around the statue and saw Savoy waiting impatiently for the coat.

“Oh my God!” Helena popped through the statue. “Savoy is the murderer?”

“Apparently,” Taylor whispered.
 

The attendant looking for the coat walked out of the back room but wasn’t holding a coat. “I’m sorry sir, but it appears your coat has been misplaced.”

Taylor snapped her head around and looked at Helena. The ghost held her hands in the air. “I swear I didn’t move anything but the tags. The room is a mess, though.”

“What do you mean, you’ve misplaced it?” Savoy’s voice ticked up five notches and a dark flush crept up his neck. “I’m a detective with the New Orleans Police Department and I need to leave for a call. Find that coat now!”

“He’s really mad,” Helena said.

Taylor’s pulse pounded in her temples as she struggled to think. “Yeah, and I’m sorta trapped here and he’s looking this direction. Go create a distraction before he walks this way.”

Helena ran off down the counter and attempted to flip over a plant at the other end, but her hand passed right through it. Taylor felt her panic rise. She yanked her cell phone out of her purse, pulled up the text to Detective Broussard, and hit Send. Then she added a follow-up.