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Authors: Victoria Abbott

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BOOK: The Hammett Hex
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“Isn't it?” Tyler said.

Gram added, “I said what a shame that their dear children couldn't also join us and . . . you'll never believe it, my dear.”

“Try me.”

“Both their children are also in the area, working, and living not far from here.”

“Wow. Isn't that the best luck?” I said with a grin.

Gram picked up a meringue and added with a twinkle. “I think we're in business.”

Tyler said, “We have a great plan.”

There was a rustle behind us and Zoya stood fuming. So much for keeping her out of it.

“This is crazy idea! No good. Dangerous!”

I asked myself if she could be right. But right or wrong, apparently Zoya would now be on the team. I just hoped that she wasn't actually part of some other team.

Tyler said, “They'll all be arriving here for tea tomorrow. They will be under the impression that we have left and that there are very hard feelings.”

“I like it already,” I said.

A knock on the door indicated that another member of the team had arrived.

Turns out every party needs a lawyer. Gram's was a lean and steely-looking woman of an uncertain age. Not only was she willing to arrive at the drop of a hat, but she lived in the neighborhood and could figure out how to get to Gram's back deck without being noticed. The lawyer's name was Nancy Mitchell and she definitely had Gram's back. She settled into one of the flowered chairs and gave us a cool, speculative glance over her platinum-rimmed glasses. “You know, I'll need to spend a bit of time with Jean to make sure everything is just as you say it is.”

Smiley's back stiffened.

“This is my family, Nancy,” Gram said with a flash of her bright blue eyes.

I said, “Ms. Mitchell's right. You can never be too careful. We'll be in the kitchen stealing more meringues.”

Gram said, “There are people I have to be careful about and I'll fill you in on them.”

Gram shooed Zoya away along with us. When we returned ten minutes later, Nancy was on board. Gram was saying, “And I think I'll leave the share that the nieces and their children would have gotten to an animal rescue charity. I just need to decide which one. There are so many good choices.”

Tyler said, “What about the shelter where you got Asta?”

“California Pug Rescue.”

Zoya nodded. “Iss good idea.”

So, all systems were go.

*   *   *

I WAS SURE
I saw the second-floor drapes twitching in the Himmelfarb house as Tyler and I stomped out the front door, carrying our belongings. We engaged in a lively discussion on the front step. Much stamping of feet and gesticulating. Great fun. Right at the key moment, Sierra emerged with the carriage. She was wearing an Adidas running hat with a dark acetate visor and sunglasses, a bit late in the day. To make the case a bit more dramatic, Tyler and I were both waving our arms and shouting in the direction of Gram's house. Gram's and Zoya's faces were pressed against the turret window looking out. Zoya opened the purple front door and shook her fist at us. Asta yipped.

The cab driver got out of his car and stared. I think he was already regretting picking up this fare.

Zoya, who was now in on the plan, stayed on the front
porch, gesticulating wildly and shouting things I took to be of the “don't come back” variety in Russian. I definitely understood
Nyet!

I bellowed back at her, “Don't worry. We wouldn't come back here at gunpoint. You couldn't pay us to spend another minute in your company.”

Gram teetered out onto the steps, holding a hanky and wailing, “You are such a disappointment. You broke my heart.”

Tyler yelled, “You don't have a heart!”

Gram said, “And that scheming creature you call a girlfriend, she's brought nothing but trouble since you've been here.”

I gasped. Was that really necessary?

Tyler took the stairs two at a time and tossed his bags into the waiting cab. I had managed to fake some pretty good tears, again a family talent. They were streaming down my cheeks as I called out to Sierra and said, “You can't believe how badly we've been treated. We've been blamed for . . . everything.”

Tyler grabbed my bags and took me by the shoulder and pushed me toward the cab. Not the actions of a good guy and that was the idea. “Let's get as far away as we can from the old witch. What a nightmare.”

I flopped on the backseat as the cabbie accelerated away. Tyler squeezed my hand, which I took to mean, “Don't say anything in case someone talks to the driver.”

As if a Kelly would ever blow cover.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Kill them with kindness.

—The Kelly Rules

W
E DIDN'T GO
far. Our cabbie let us out a mile away in front of a small hotel. We waited until he was out of sight before catching another cab back to Nancy Mitchell's house, four doors up from Gram's and on the corner. We went in by Nancy's side entrance, confident that no one had followed us. Nancy had spoken to her neighbors to let them know we needed to traipse through their backyards to get back to Gram's without being seen. No one had a problem with that. And everyone offered whatever help we might need.

I was still a bit worried. I said to Smiley, “But how do we know that Gram will be safe? These people didn't mind terrorizing us. Who knows what they'll come up with when confronted.”

He said, “They won't try anything until they think she's actually changed her will. We get the goods on them before that. Anyway, Gram's having the time of her life with this. Apparently, although she liked Howard, she was never a big
fan of his family. But of course, she never said anything because she knew what it was like to be in a fractured family, thanks to my parents. And as far as safety, Zoya's there to help us too.”

“Right, the same Zoya who was injured in the last break-in.”

“And Gus and the boys should be there soon.”

“What?”

“Gram and I cooked it up. Gus and the boys will be arriving from the back way too, from the other side as soon as it's dark. They'll spend the night and will stay there tomorrow until after the visit. We'll make sure we have witnesses as well as a recording.”

“Well, that's just great, but how do we know you can trust any of them?”

“We're confident. They're all devoted to Gram and I'm banking on that.”

But of course, except for Nancy Mitchell they'd all been on my list of suspects, hadn't they? Everyone had been on it, including Smiley and me. “We don't know everything yet, Tyler.”

As we reached the back deck in Gram's yard, he pulled me close, taking me by surprise. I didn't think the danger to his grandmother was a romantic conversation starter. “We know everything that matters. We know how much we care about each other. We know we're the best team. We know we're going to be together.”

Oh no. Not here. Not like this. Not while I had so much to feel guilty about, in other words, meaning “you know who” and whatever he was doing following me.

“But—”

“Gram loves you, Jordan.”

“Well, I'm sure she—”

“Nope. She loves
you
. Loves your sense of humor and
your bravery and the way you bounce back and the way you care about me.”

“That's really great but—”

He reached into his pocket. “No buts. That's why she wants to know if you would like to wear this as your engagement ring.”

“As my—”

“Yeah. She got it in her head that you didn't have an engagement ring because I just couldn't afford one because of the new house and changing jobs and all that, and she wants us to have this heirloom ring that has real sentimental value to her. It was her mother's. She wants to keep it in the family.”

“And the truth is that I don't have a ring because we're not engaged.”

“Well, yeah. But let's change that. Right now. I'll never find anyone I like more that you, Jordan Kelly Bingham. You make me mad as hell and your family are all crooks and yet I can't live without you. That makes it love.”

“That's extreme, isn't it? You probably could live without me.”

“Did I mention you're exasperating in the extreme?”

“That's me.” I stared at the ring, a large emerald-cut yellow citrine with two tiny diamonds at the edge of the setting. Like it had been made for me in 1926.

He said, “It's called a citrine.”

“I know. It's beautiful.”

“She said it represents good luck and prosperity and generosity.”

He let his arms drop. “But if you don't want to marry me, no pressure and no hard feelings. I know you have your own plans and you've had some issues with relationships. Take your time.”

I looked up at his pink face and surprised myself by
saying, “I do want to marry you. I'll never find anyone I like more than you, Tyler Dekker. And you make me even madder than I make you. It is possible that I can't live without you either. It could be love. But there's just one thing—”

Smiley pulled out his phone. “It's Gram. She wants us to come inside before someone spots us. Who knows where these crooked relatives of hers are watching from.”

Gram opened the door and beckoned.

Tyler said, “Sorry, what was the one thing that interfered with my proposal and your acceptance?”

I cleared my throat. “Um, as you had been keeping things from me and not for the first time this trip, I have something to tell you.” It was way past time to tell him about Uncle Kev. It had been weighing on me. So even if I didn't know why Kev was in San Francisco yet, if was time to come clean.

“Can it wait?”

“What?”

“It's just that she's obviously anxious. Take your time. Consider your answer. Tomorrow's a big day. We'll get these crooks.”

He was on his way back into the house before I realized I was still wearing the ring. It was just the right size.

*   *   *

IT SEEMED LIKE
forever before I was free to call Uncle Kev. Our trap was just the sort of activity that Kev could destabilize in a major way. He needed to be in the loop. He could still do some damage, but maybe less. And we did need reinforcements.

“Jordie! There's sure a lot going on around here.”

“Why didn't you answer your phone, Kev?”

“People are coming and going from that apartment like crazy.”

“What people? Where are you?”

“I'm still watching the apartment. There's a lot of action there.”

“Describe the action, Kev.”

As he did, I felt some answers click into place.

“Try to get some photos of the cousins.” I also described some other suspects that might be around. “Watch for large, burly, sweaty men who look like they may be packing heat. Plus you need to go pick up my phone tonight, Kev, and you need to drop it off here. That's very important. Don't get into trouble and don't mess up.” I told him to pick up the bag with Ana Maria's uniform from our backyard, and gave him the address and the time and place where he could meet Ana Maria to pick up the phone and return the uniform with my thanks. “And when you bring it back, you can tell me why you are here and no fooling around.”

“Not my fault, Jordie. Your pet cop there keeps interrupting. You should show that guy the door.”

“No changing the subject and no excuses. Call me when you have the phone and you're in the backyard. Don't be seen.”

“Jordie,” he said reproachfully.

I crept outside with the bag containing Ana Maria's uniform for Kev, then I went back to join our ever-expanding group of conspirators. We'd now been joined by Gus and the boys. Except for Zoya, who personified gloom, they were all in a party mood in Gram's sunroom, out of view of the street. Gus and the boys had brought a boatload of souvlaki and Greek salad and baklava, an unexpected treat for all.

Smiley seemed subdued. I was trying not to pace nervously. Plenty depended on Uncle Kev, never a good thing. I caught Smiley's eyes on me several times. I had no choice but to tell him, but I thought I might wait until I had my phone back and Kev was out of his reach.

Our plans unfurled slowly as the evening wore on. We made contingencies for every possible situation, it seemed. Gus and the boys would be out of sight, but positioned to
arrive in case of any hostility by our targets. Smiley and I were to be hiding in the dining room. The grand pocket doors would be closed. We would be free to observe thanks to a couple of peepholes newly drilled at just the right height by Gus. I thought that Gram might have objected to having holes in the walls of her home, but she said, “Small price to pay.”

Gus rumbled. “Easy to fix afterwards. Five minutes, bit of plaster and paint. Nothing to it. Me and my boys are happy to help Mrs. Jean.”

It was nearly ten when my burner vibrated. I headed to the kitchen on the pretence of getting a cup of coffee.

“Jordie,” Kev said.

“Where are you?”

“In the basement.”

“What? You broke in here? That's—”

“I have your phone.”

“On my way. Keep out of sight.”

“Jordie.”

I stuck my head back in, coffee mug in hand, and said that I'd like to do a bit more laundry, things I'd forgotten earlier. Would that be a problem?

“Be my guest,” Gram said, turning away from the others briefly.

As I headed up the stairs with the coffee to get my fake laundry, I could feel Smiley's eyes boring into my back.

Minutes later, I was standing in front of the washing machine preparing to toss in my perfectly clean pair of shorts and T-shirt.

Where would he be? I needed not to yelp in surprise when he suddenly appeared. Being Uncle Kev, he could leap out of a laundry basket or slither from under a table. I looked up in case he was about to drop from the ductwork. When I lowered my glance, he was standing beside me. “Your phone, Jordie. Your friend, Ana Maria, was glad to get her uniform back. She sent back your jeans and top.”

“Good work, Kev,” I said.

“Oh sure,” a voice behind us said. “Very good work.”

“I can explain,” I said.

“Make it good,” Tyler said. It wasn't a moment where you could call him Smiley.

“Uncle Kev happened to be in San Francisco and he was willing to help us out.”

“Was he indeed?” Usually Uncle Kev was able to vanish like a wisp of fog in the sunshine, but not when his arm was being held firmly by a large police officer.

“Yes.” I noticed that old familiar chirp back in my voice. “I didn't want to tell you because I thought you might be bothered by it.”

“You'd be right about that. Where your uncle goes, trouble always follows.”

Uncle Kev said, “Hey, that's not fair.”

It was completely and utterly fair, but I said, “But it's good news. Uncle Kev's managed to get my phone back from Ana Maria, the chambermaid. I think you'll want to see the photos I took on my way to the hotel before I ran into the men with guns and afterwards when I spotted your cousins. We need to show them to Gram too. All thanks to Kev.”

“Don't go anywhere,” Smiley said to Kev as I showed him the photos. I said, “After looking at those old photos, do you recognize any of these people?”

Tyler let go of Uncle Kev and glowered as he scrolled through the images on my iPhone. “So that's what it's about,” he said with a grim, even Sam Spade–like set to his jaw.

He said, “We have to show them to Gram. Let's go.” He nodded in Kev's direction. “I suppose we'd better have him where we can keep an eye on him.”

“Always a good idea,” I said. “Don't worry, Uncle Kev. There's lots of great Greek food.”

That was how Uncle Kev came to join the party. As you can imagine, he was quite a hit with the ladies.

Everyone had a good look at the photos I'd snapped. Kev's eyes widened as he spotted a few people. He was trying to catch my attention and yet not willing to say what it was about out loud. I knew there was something to discuss with him when we had a minute alone.

Gram had the most emotional reaction when she saw them. I thought I spotted tears in her bright blue eyes.

“I am so sorry, pet,” she said. “I brought this all upon us. What a foolish old woman I am.”

*   *   *

NEXT TIME KEV
went to refill his drink, I shoved him into the pantry and closed the door behind us. Sure, I no longer had to deal with the ominous threat of Smiley finding out about Kev, but I did still have the ominous threat of Kev himself. Kev's eyes were wide. He was scared. Rightfully so.

“Jeez, Jordie, you're strong!” He rubbed his arm where I'd gripped him.

“Spill it, spill it now, or so help me, Kev . . .” There was way too much depending on our little trap. It was going to be delicate and Kev was a giant ginger bull in a crowded china shop.

“Well, I just needed to be sure that you haven't mentioned Uncle Seamus to anyone, have you, since you've been here, Jordie? Remember I sent you that text?”

“Uncle Seamus? No, I haven't . . . why would I? Oh, wait!” I flashed back to Farley Tso, his silver fox mane flowing at the shop. He had definitely mentioned Seamus by name. At the time, it had even surprised me, because we're really not supposed to talk about Seamus outside the family. If the TV shot I'd seen was correct, then Farley Tso was dead. Is that what had gotten him killed? “Wait, what text
did you send me?” I pulled out the phone he'd retrieved for me and scrolled back to our last texts.

BOOK: The Hammett Hex
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