The White Magic Five & Dime (A Tarot Mystery) (23 page)

“You assume right, but I am making progress. And I still don’t need help, Alanis.”

I looked around the restaurant with wide eyes.

“Jinkies,” I said. “I suddenly have the strongest feeling of déjà vu. As if I’d been here before having the same conversation…”

“I checked in with the Fourth Street Pawn Shop a little while ago. I had some questions related to another case. And do you know what the manager said to me?”

“He’d give you twenty dollars for that watch?”

“He wanted to know why I hadn’t sent my new partner over—the one who’d come in that morning. He preferred to deal with her from now on. She was a lot cuter than me.”

“It’s nice to know pawn shop managers find me attractive. I never said I was a cop, though.”

“Because you didn’t have to. He assumed you were, so you let him.”

“It’s illegal to let people make an
ass
out of
u
and
me
?”

“No. But it is dumb.”

“So dumb the guy answered my questions and I could move on to the next place and that’s where I found a bunch of jewelry my mom was
wink wink
‘cleansing’ for her clients. And I was able to buy the stuff back and start returning it this afternoon.”

“Hey, that’s great. I’m happy for you. You’re a regular Robin Hood. Now would you please stop?”

“Don’t you even want to know where I found the jewelry?”

Logan sighed. “Where did you find the jewelry?”

“Jones Pawn & Loan in Flagstaff. I assume you already checked there for the electronics that were stolen from my mother?”

“Of course I checked there. Days ago. Now may I ask a question that you haven’t put in my mouth for me?”

I mulled it over.

“I shall allow it,” I pronounced.

“Where were you last night?”

“Are you asking me as a policeman or the guy taking me out to dinner at a swanky French restaurant?”

“Would it make a difference?”

“No. I was at Mom’s place, of course. What’s up? Did someone steal the Pink Panther diamond again?”

Logan looked deeply puzzled.

Sometimes I forget that not everyone had a sociopath for a mom and a television for a dad.

“Why do you ask?” I said.

“This morning William Riggs was arrested for possession of a controlled substance, resisting arrest, and aggravated assault on a peace officer.”

“Wait—what about the concealed weapon?” I wanted to ask.

But I let it go. This was Arizona. Maybe anything less than a bazooka didn’t count.

I rolled my eyes up and tapped a finger against my chin.

“William Riggs…William Riggs…William Riggs. Why does that name ring a bell? Say! He was one of the guys on that list you gave me, wasn’t he? Had some kind of bug up his butt about Mom?”

Logan glowered at me.

“What a coincidence,” I went on. “Does he have any priors? Assault, drunk and disorderly, that kind of thing?”

“He says he was framed.”

“For drunk and disorderly?”

“For the drugs.”

“Why would anyone do that?”

“I don’t know. They’re crazy?”

“Hmm. I can’t say that’s very convincing, as conspiracy theories go. No, it’s more likely the guy’s just hopped up on goofballs. Thanks for the heads-up. I feel safer knowing he’ll be off the streets for a good long time.”

“We also got a call from Victor Castellanos yesterday.”

I started tapping my chin again. “Victor Castellanos…”

Logan’s scowl deepened.

“Oh yeah,” I said. “Him.”

“He said you’ve been harassing him and his mother.”

“If a few friendly visits constitute harassment in your jurisdiction, then I’m guilty as charged. Ooo—I think that lady at the other table just smiled at me. Help, officer! I’m being harassed!”

“You don’t want to mess with Castellanos, Alanis.”

“What’s he going to do? Make me run twenty laps around the gym?”

“A few months back, he got into a big blow-up with the owner of one of the nursing homes in town. Claimed they hadn’t been taking proper care of his mother—let con artists in to swindle her and the like.”

“Fascinating. Do go on.”

“The nursing-home guy ended up with a broken collarbone.”

Fascinating indeed.

“And Castellanos is still teaching at the high school?” I said.

“No charges were filed. The guy claimed he just tripped and fell.”

“On his collarbone.”

Logan nodded.

“During a big blow-up.”

Logan kept nodding.

“Well, lucky for him,” I said. “If Castellanos had assaulted him, it could have led to some very, very bad publicity. Maybe even an investigation of his business practices.”

“Oh, that’s happening anyway. But it’s not the point.”

“And the point
is
…what? Don’t let Victor Castellanos near my collarbone?”

“Yes, Alanis. That is the goddamn point. I was stupid enough to give you three names, and two of them have turned out to be trouble one way or another.”

Actually it was three for three, but I didn’t feel like mentioning Ken Meldon’s pop-in with a souped-up BB gun.

“You won’t be getting any more help from me,” Logan said. “If you bring something nasty down on yourself, you’re on your own.”

“You think that’s anything new for me?” I snapped back.

I showed him how strong and self-reliant I am by snatching up a breadstick and snapping it in two with my bare hands.

Before I could take a big, savage bite and
really
prove how tough I am, Logan reached out and gently put a hand over one of mine.

“Look, Alanis,” he said. “I don’t really know you. You’re so cagey I don’t even know if you’re knowable, if that makes any sense. But I know I like you, and I’m worried about you. Your mother just died and you’re working through some pretty complicated feelings and I think that’s got you so confused you can’t even see how reckless you’re being. You’ve told me you’re here to make amends, but all I really see you doing is stirring up trouble—mostly for yourself. You’ve already had one complete stranger threaten your life. Do you really want to take that to the next level? I mean, I hate to say it, but you went to the morgue yesterday, didn’t you? You saw what someone did…”

I started to pull my hand away.

Logan clamped down hard.

“I’m not asking this as a cop,” he said. “I’m asking it as the guy sitting next to you in the swanky French restaurant. Will you back off, Alanis? Please?”

And then he let go.

I thought about lifting my hand up again and taking that big bite out of my breadstick. Defiantly, Bugs Bunny-chomping-on-a-carrot style.

Instead I just dropped the two halves onto the table.

I don’t even like breadsticks. Who enjoys edible pencils?

“It’d be easy to tell you yes,” I said. “You’re asking so nicely, and I appreciate that. Truly. But it’d be a lie. I’m closing in on something—a few somethings, it feels like—and I’m not going to give up now. For instance: five thousand dollars in cash was disappearing from my mother’s place each month. That’s not just a run of bad luck at the bingo hall. I’m thinking someone was shaking her down. Why don’t you throw that at Grandi and see if he blinks? And another for instance: I bought back more jewelry this afternoon than Ken Meldon and Victor Castellanos’s mom can account for. There are a lot more disgruntled customers out there than the three you know of, and I’m going to keep looking for them. So, no. I’m sorry. Stopping isn’t an option.”

When I was done, Logan didn’t seem angry or disappointed. He just looked very, very tired.

Our waiter swooped in and slid a plate of escargot under his nose.

“Hey, look—your chicken entrails,” I said. “What do you see in your future, O wise one?”

Logan picked up a fork and gave one of the glistening shells a glum tap.

“Snails,” he said.

We cheered
up after that. No one was trying to get anything out of anyone anymore. Not information, not cooperation, not a concession. We could just enjoy the food (or not, in Logan’s case—he’d been trying to impress me with his order) and the company.

It was very date-like, and I enjoyed it, which was rare for me and date-like experiences. Most of mine had felt like con jobs.

Don’t say the wrong thing. Stay in character. Convince him you’re normal.

About fifteen minutes into the actual meal, just as I gave in and traded what was left of my tarte in exchange for a bunch of dead mollusks I didn’t really want, Logan put a hand over his heart and said, “I’m vibrating.”

“Are you declaring your love or having a heart attack?”

“Neither.”

He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his BlackBerry.

“Sorry. I’ve gotta take this,” he said after a quick glance at the screen.

He pressed the BlackBerry to his ear and hustled off.

I made use of the time alone to eat more of my tarte. When Logan returned a few minutes later, there were only two bites left.

“Hey!”

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist,” I said. “Tell you what: you can have what’s left, and you don’t even have to give me any escargot for it.”

“Screw it. I’m going straight to dessert.”

Logan started looking around for our waiter.

“So…?” I said. “The call…?”

“I was gonna get to that. I thought you’d find it interesting. William Riggs’s bond hearing has been scheduled for next Monday morning. He’ll be before Judge Crowell.”

Logan waggled his eyebrows.

“And this means…?” I said, waggling mine, too.

“Judge Crowell is a hardass. One of the hardest hardasses in Arizona, and we make ’em hard here. Riggs isn’t going to catch any breaks. He’s going to get himself a nice little vacay in the county lockup—and maybe a long one if he can’t make whatever crazy bail Crowell sets.”

“Oh. Bummer for him.”

Our waiter stepped out of the kitchen with a plate, and I raised a finger and caught his eye.

Suddenly I was in the mood for dessert, too.

It was
dark out when we finished dinner, and Logan offered to escort me back to my mom’s place.

“You don’t think I’m safe on the mean streets of Berdache?” I asked.

“I just like walking with you.”

I was grateful it was dark out. Turns out a girl can commit over a hundred felonies before she hits puberty and still blush when the right guy acts starry-eyed.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to come between you and a good time,” I said. “Escort away.”

When we got to the White Magic Five & Dime, he kissed me.

He was quick about it and gentle. There was no clinch, no groping. No tongue, thank god. He just leaned in quick—but not too quick—and put his lips to mine.

I shivered, but in a good way. Like when you take that first taste of something so rich and sweet and delicious your whole body wakes up tingling and says, “Nice!”

“Whoa,” I said when it was over.

“I hope it’s all right that I did that.”

“Yeah. Oh yeah. It’s all right. It’s just…whoa.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Aren’t you worried someone’s gonna see us?”

Logan shrugged. “We’re the talk of the town anyway. Why fight it?”

“Good point.”

I
kissed
him
.

It ended
after the second kiss. Logan was very gentlemanly, very proper, and I understood entirely and could have kicked his ass for it.

We parted wistfully.

“Promise you won’t get into any trouble?” he said.

“Promise you won’t arrest me if I do?”

“I can’t.”

“Me neither.”

There was nothing left to say after that but good night.

From outside,
I’d noticed that the light was on upstairs. Clarice was home. Probably doing her homework, perhaps with Ceecee.

I hoped she was alone. I was looking forward to trying this sister thing on for size.

Big Sister: You’ll never believe who just kissed me!

Little Sister: Oh my god! Who?

Big Sister: Guess!

Little Sister: I don’t know!

Big Sister: Detective…Josh…Logan!

Little Sister: Squeeee! OMFG!

Both jump up and down, giggling hysterically.

Cut to montage of talking, laughing, baking cookies, combing hair, putting on makeup, dancing in pajamas and singing along to “We Are Family” by Sister Sledge.

“Hey, Clarice,” I said as I reached the top of the stairs. “You’ll never guess—”

“Never guess what?” said the man with the gun.

He had a deep, croaky voice and a cueball-bald head.

The woman with him had a gun, too.

It was pointed at my little sister.