Mad Money Murder Page 10

I wasn't sure how to respond, so I gave her two thumbs up, which seemed appropriate.

  "Alright!" Kelly emerged from the lodge with a plate full of hot dogs.

  Betty and Lauren carried buns and plates, with Inez and Ava following with napkins and condiments. I pulled out the roasting sticks, and we got started.

  "Hey." I elbowed Kelly. "One of the Kaitlyns wants to be a Girl Scout leader like me."

  My best friend and co-leader nodded, not taking her eyes off of the girls. "Yes, I know. She told me she thinks it's a good job for crazy people."

  I ignored the slight. "Does she think she's crazy?"

  Kelly speared a hot dog for Inez. "I don't think so. But I think she thinks you are."

  I didn't take offence. People usually thought spies were crazy, and we all were, in our own way. It takes a loose nut to decide on that kind of lifestyle. Sure, there were perks, like worldwide travel, meeting interesting people, action and adventure, and things like that. It was also the perfect place for the eccentric, people who…

  It was like my brain had run into a bug zapper.

  "What is it?" Kelly asked.

  "I think I might know what Aunt June did for a living." I pulled out my cell and walked a short distance away.

  Riley answered on the first ring. "Hey, Wrath! What's up?" my old handler asked.

  Riley Andrews had been my handler in the CIA. We'd been close partners, and even after a brief distraction of a relationship that lasted for a very short time, we stayed friends. He'd tried a few moves when I first moved back home, but by then I'd met my now husband, and he and Rex were different breeds.

  Riley was tan, blond, and slick—with a smile that could melt the underwear off the most stoic Russian matron—while Rex had black hair, a sexy, quiet confidence, and was responsible. Where Riley had screwed me over and lied on occasion, Rex always had my back.

  Over time, they've become friends. Riley worked for the FBI for a while before settling down in Who's There, Iowa as a private investigator. Kelly worked for Riley as a researcher.

  And he could hack into the CIA's database.

  "Did I hear you are in some small town on the Mississippi River because of an inheritance?" he asked.

  "I am. I need you to get me some intel on a woman named Aunt June—Aunt is her first name, June is her last, and Delilah is her middle name. She might've worked for the agency, maybe in the 60s through the 80s?"

  "Okay. I can do that. That'll be $100 an hour."

  "What?" I shrieked into the phone. "You're joking!"

  Riley went into his matter-of-fact tone, a tone he used on me when he wanted me to take him seriously. "This is a business. I have to make a living somehow. And recently, I've realized that I give you free intel all the time."

  "I also solve your cases all the time," I snapped. "Are you going to charge me for that too?"

  "I'm thinking about it."

  It was true. For many of his cases since he'd gone PI, I'd stumbled upon the answers before he had. I couldn't help it if I was better at it than he was.

  "Wait, where did you get this idea? It never occurred to you before. Which makes me think someone has put the idea in your head."

  "No." He sounded defensive. "Not at all. It's more like I've come to my senses."

  Was I really talking to Riley? "Which is something else you'd never say. Cough it up. Who told you to charge me?"

  He sighed. "Your sister-in-law Ronni. She was in here for a case and told me I was letting you walk all over me." He paused. "Although I do like that idea. My back is killing me."

  Rex had older twin sisters. Randi was sweet and adored me. Ronni thought I was Satan's spawn and used every opportunity to yell at me. Recently, the twins had married a couple of friends of mine from the past—two clueless Chechens named Ivan and Ron. I'd hoped Ron would be able to mellow his wife, Ronni, out on me.

  I guess not so much.

  "What case does Ronni have you working on?"

  "That's classified. And if you want this intel, it'll cost you."

  "You do know that Kelly is here with me, don't you? I could have her do something like erase your files when she gets back."

  By the way, Kelly would never do this for me. Back in elementary school, she would beat up anyone who bullied me, but this was her job. Still, it was worth a shot.

  "Are you threatening me, Wrath?" Was there a hint of amusement in his question?

  I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. "Yes, I absolutely am. Riley, I need that info. And Ahmed told me last time he wasn't helping me anymore."

  Ahmed, my usual source at the CIA, had a problem. He was a junkie for peanut butter sandwich cookies. I could usually bribe him with Girl Scout cookies, but he'd gotten in trouble with HR recently. And the women in HR are dominatrices on the side.

  Riley sighed. "Okay, but you owe me. Tell me what you have."

  I filled him in on everything regarding Aunt June, from her letter asking me to investigate, to the fact that no one knew what she did, to the many photos in her house that featured her with famous people. I even told him about the bugs.

  "So she's well-travelled, eh?" he asked. "Okay, give me a few hours. And you will owe me. Big."

  "Owe you what?"

  His voice was very suggestive. "That will depend on how hard it is to get this information."

  I hung up and turned back to the girls, jumping about three feet into the air when I spotted Betty right behind me.

  "Aunt June was a spy, huh?" She took a bite out of a seriously torched hot dog. "What makes you think so?"

  I put my hand on my chest. "How long have you been standing behind me?"

  "Enough to hear everything you said."

  "Well, stop doing that!"

  "Okay." She turned and started to walk away before stopping and looking back. "For now."

  We sat around the campfire as the sky darkened. The girls sang camp songs, and we made s'mores. I got into it, but my mind kept reeling back to earlier. Was Aunt June a former spy? Or was I reaching? What if Riley couldn't find anything? I'd have to make him check Homeland Security and the NSA. I don't know why, but something in my gut told me I was on the right track. I just needed proof.

  "Hey, Betty," Kaitlyn said. "Show Mrs. Wrath and Mrs. Albers your new trick!"

  "It isn't perfected yet," the girl hedged.

  "Just do it," Lauren begged.

  "You did it for us," Inez encouraged.

  Betty looked at each of us before dramatically getting to her feet. "It's kinda rough."

  She took her place on the other side of the fire and began waving her arms in the air.

  "Alakazam! Booby booby poo!" Her hands sprang open, and a puff of green smoke rose up from the fire. It cleared almost instantly.

  Betty was gone.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  We applauded and cheered. Not a bad trick for a kid her age. I assumed that she'd dropped to the ground and crawled into the lodge. I didn't have a lot of experience with magic, but that seemed to make sense.

  Another burst of smoke (red, this time) and the girl reappeared, wearing hiking boots that looked similar to mine. I looked down to see myself standing there in my socks. But that wasn't all. She was wearing Kelly's baseball cap, Kaitlyn's bandana around her neck, Lauren's Cookie the Pony bracelet, Inez's green camping socks, and Ava's sunglasses.

  "Ta-da!" Betty said before going back to sit down.

  Kelly and I stared at each other.

  "Isn't it cool?" Lauren asked as she and the other girls collected their things from Betty.

  "How did you…" I looked down at my stocking feet.

  "Betty!" Kelly gushed. "You're a genius!"

  "Yeah." Betty nibbled from a blackened marshmallow that was more coal than food. "I know. It still isn't ready yet."

  "How did you get my shoes?" I finally found my words.

  "Really?" She stared at me. "I thought you'd figure it out."

  The other girls looked at me curiously.

  "Yeah
, Merry." Kelly smirked. "How could you not have figured it out?"

  "Oh, like you have." I walked over and sat down next to Betty so that I could put my boots back on.

  Kelly winked. "Alright, ladies. Let's clean up."

  While they went inside, I got my flashlight and investigated the dying fire pit. I was going to figure this out before we went home.

  Thirty minutes later, I was still confused. Betty was starting to scare me—more than usual.

  "I think we should call it a night," Kelly announced once everything was put away.

  To my surprise, the girls didn't protest. Were we going to get away without a night hike two nights in a row?

  "We're tired," Kaitlyn explained. "And we want to start up the investigation tomorrow."

  Something was up.

  "I told them it had been a busy day," Kelly explained as we brushed our teeth. "With the lazy river and all that."

  "That worked?" I said through a mouthful of toothpaste. It sounded more like "Maat murk?" But she got the gist.

  "Believe it or not, they're exhausted. We've had a full day."

  I brushed my teeth, but I wasn't so sure. We were exhausted. I knew that. But these girls could go for three days straight without slowing down. I rinsed and turned to my co-leader.

  "What did you promise them?" I asked.

  "What makes you think I promised them anything?" she said without making eye contact.

  "That!" I pointed at her. "That says it. You've never been a good liar. You don't look at me when you do."

  She sighed. "I promised them you'd get in the mud pit with them."

  I relaxed. "That doesn't sound so bad."

  "You have to promise to slide down the slide and let them throw mud at you," Kelly added.

  "It's good for the skin. I'm looking forward to it," I lied.

  The lights were out and the girls were sleeping when we slid into our sleeping bags. I was out before I even pulled up the covers, and I dreamed of being smothered in mud by the ghost of Princess Badger Tooth.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The girls woke us up first thing in the morning with breakfast in bed. Kelly was alarmed when they brought us scrambled eggs and toast, but Lauren said they made it all in the microwave and cleaned it up after.

  "They're in a hurry," I said as I pulled yet another piece of eggshell out of my mouth.

  The troop brushed their teeth while we ate.

  "Hey." Kelly surveyed the kitchen a few minutes later. "Not too bad. I could get used to this."

  "Alright!" I clapped my hands and five little girls appeared, dressed and ready to go. "We need a plan of attack to find the remaining clues today."

  "We do," Lauren said.

  "Yes." I repeated, "We do."

  The girl shook her head. "No, I meant we do. You have a hair appointment."

  I'd totally forgotten about that. I looked at Kelly, and she waved me off. "We'll be fine. You have your own investigation to do."

  "Hey, Basil!" I shouted as I walked through the door of his salon ten minutes later.

  I'll admit to being a little put out on being left out of the house search. But this was an opportunity to get more information, so I needed to make the most of it.

  "I was saving you a seat." He patted a chair.

  There wasn't anyone else in the place.

  "Are you closed?"

  He laughed. "No one gets up this early around here." Basil performed a deep bow. "Madame, I'm at your service."

  Good. We could talk candidly. My outlook improved. This was going to go a long way toward helping me decide what to do.

  The place was very shabby chic cozy inside, and I felt a little twinge of excitement. I hadn't been to a hairdresser in a long time. Mostly, I just cut my hair over the bathroom sink when a piece got too long. I sat down in a chair, and he wrapped a purple, glittery cape around me, fastening it at the neck.

  "You've been cutting your own hair?" Basil gasped as he ran his hands through my curls.

  "It doesn't have much of a shape anyway," I said apologetically. "I guess I should have something done with it."

  "Well, honey, we're going to fix that. I'd love to give you the works. Would that be okay?" Basil stared at me eagerly, like a puppy waiting for a treat.

  "Um, sure." I had no idea what the works were but hoped it included cake and, at the very least, wine.

  "Fabulous!" He clapped his hands with glee. "This will be a treat! Everyone else in town wants their hair the same way all the time. Oh, there are a few women who let me experiment, like Nancy. But that's only with color. For most of the people here, there's no spontaneity! No creativity!"

  I looked at his reflection in the mirror. "Before you get too creative, what were you thinking of doing?"

  "Just a little shaping, maybe one or two highlights." He looked at my reflection in the mirror. "But it will be dazzling, I promise. Do you trust me?"

  I thought about Nancy's dyed beehive. "Okay. But seriously, nothing too over-the-top."

  Maybe it would be okay. I'd had the same dirty blonde curls for years. Perhaps the hair stylist could give me a cut that screamed responsible adult to Kelly.

  Basil led me to a chair and sink and proceeded to wash my hair, all the time oohing and ahhing over my bone structure and something called skin tone.

  I shut my eyes to avoid the water and soap. "You were going to tell me about Aunt June?"

  "Oh yes! I almost forgot." His fingers massaged my scalp. It was so soothing that I almost forgot what I was going to ask. "What do you want to know?"

  I thought about my disastrous interview with Carnack. I'd botched that, and he shut down before I could find out anything useful. Dr. Morgan had been the same way.

  "What was she like?"

  He rinsed and handed me a towel, moving me to his chair. "She was fun, funny, smart, and a force to be reckoned with."

  This was the first person who hadn't used the word eccentric. "What do you mean?"

  Basil swung me around so that my back was to the mirror as he began combing. "I don't mean that she'd been a force to be reckoned with me. But I did hear of a few run-ins."

  "With who?"

  "Fancy Nancy, for one." He smirked. "Those two did not get along."

  That was interesting. Nancy had seemed a bit closed off about Aunt June.

  I started to turn back to the mirror, but Basil corrected me, swinging me back to him. I gave in. "Why was that?"

  The scissors came out, and I closed my eyes. I'd always had a thing about sharp objects around my eyes. Maybe that's why I didn't get my hair cut very often.

  Basil launched into hush-hush gossip mode, even though we were the only ones in the whole place.

  "Well, I'm pretty sure that Nancy lost a man to her!"

  How did this play into the three suitors? "Was Aunt June ever married?"

  "Not that I'm aware of. I think she was a free spirit…didn't want to get tied down."

  I asked, "Who was the man?"

  "Not a clue! Sorry, dear!"

  I had the distinct feeling that he knew exactly who but decided to change tracks.

  "What did she do for a living?" I asked. "I can't find anything about her."

  "No one really knows." Basil stopped clipping. "There were all kinds of rumors. You know—that she was independently wealthy, connected in all the right social circles…"

  I interrupted, "The right social circles? Here?"

  "Oh no, darling! Not here!" He giggled. "She was always going to LA and San Francisco. She'd come back with the most amazing clothes and shoes!"

  The West Coast? I guess that wasn't too unusual. Lots of people had their favorite places to visit. "I keep hearing that she had no family."

  "That's the word on the street, luv. That woman was un-en-cumbered."

  Had Basil been to her place? Had she let him into her little world? "Have you seen all the pictures in her house?"

  He swooned. "I would love to! But she kept the people here at arm's len
gth. I don't think that, before yesterday, anyone else but her had been in her house."

  "She had photos of herself with lots of celebrities." I listed a few off.

  Basil squealed, "I'd love to see them, if it's alright with you! Barbara Streisand! Imagine that! And I'd love to look inside her closet. Maybe you'd let me try something on?"

  The blow dryer started up before I could answer, and I kept my eyes shut to avoid the heat. We couldn't really talk, so I thought about the things he'd said. No family. Frequent high-end shopping trips to San Francisco and Los Angeles. Hobnobbing with the rich and famous. Fun and funny.

  I really, really regretted not knowing the woman. Maybe I'd been wrong about her being a secret agent. I'd probably projected her life onto mine, even though I'd never met Barbara Streisand. I'd met the mayor of La Paz and the Agricultural Secretary of Jordan, but that was about it.

  The dryer turned off, and I felt something wet slapping against the back of my head. Like a paint brush.

  I opened my eyes and tried to turn around, but he blocked me. "What are you doing?"

  "Shhhh! It's a surprise, and you are going to love it!" Basil giggled again.

  "But nothing too weird," I insisted. "Right?"

  "Of course not! I heard the girls at dinner saying you were an ex spy! I know how you people don't like to stand out."

  I decided to relax. In a way, I was treating myself. Kelly did that now and then. She had a massage once a month. I could get used to this. Since he'd told me he'd overheard the girls, I had an in.

  "My girls overheard you in the diner talking about three boyfriends?"

  "Uh-oh! Caught gossiping again. Shame on me."

  I didn't point out that we'd been gossiping this whole time.

  "Why do you think that she had three boyfriends?" I pressed.

  "Well." He adopted that hushed tone again. "I know a florist in…you know where. And he once told me that she received three floral arrangements every week. And they were ordered by three different men. He didn't tell me who because he was very discreet."

  Right. So discreet he told you Aunt June was behaving like some sort of elderly tramp.

  "Could the men be from…you know where?" If that was the case, this investigation that didn't seem like it warranted an investigation was going to become way harder.