Ready, Aim, Under Fire (Lexi Graves Mysteries, 10) Page 2

  “I have a special case for you to investigate,” said Solomon.

  “Sounds thrilling but can we talk about the missing person case that Garrett brought to me.”

  “Are they also invisible?” asked Lucas, “because I didn’t see Garrett come in with anyone.”

  “Ha!” I snorted. “The missing person might not be a missing person.”

  “Fastest case ever solved,” said Fletcher. “Well done!”

  My jaw dropped open and I pointed behind him, fear flooding my face. When he looked around to see what had suddenly terrified me, I grabbed the last donut. He turned back, looked into the box, then at me, his face full of disappointment. I smiled and bit into the donut. “No, I mean, Garrett brought a cold case that just got closed except he thinks something strange happened. The person who came back isn’t the person who went away. I think I should look into it.”

  “Is MPD springing for this?” Solomon inquired.

  “Actually, I thought we could take it pro bono.”

  “Why?”

  I had my answer ready. “Because it would be nice for MPD to owe us one.” I briefly considered adding that my brother rarely asked for help of any kind, other than babysitting, so if the case had him bamboozled, it was definitely something that should interest us; but I figured Solomon probably already knew that. Plus, MPD owing us a favor was the most important bit. We should have been eager to help them; there were plenty of times when they helped us in the past. It was a win-win situation.

  Solomon nodded slowly. “Point taken. Do you have the file?”

  I handed it to him and he perused the first couple of pages. “Interesting. Take it but don’t spend too much time on it. If there’s nothing in it, tell Garrett we can’t help them but we’ll investigate anything else he needs us to look at. If this person is truly an impostor, like Garrett suspects, then find out who the hell she is and what she wants.”

  “On it, boss.”

  Chapter Two

  “I could eat your cute, little toes! I could eat them. Eat them all up!” Lily leaned over Baby Poppy and kissed each teeny, weeny toe while Poppy squeaked and burbled indecipherable baby noises.

  “I’ll make you a snack,” I said. “Please don’t eat her up. I want her to graduate from every life stage with all her extremities intact.”

  “I can’t help it. I want to put her between two slices of bread, throw in some chicken slices and Poppy can be the ickle-pickle on top. Then I’m gonna eat her. Yes, I am,” said Lily, not looking at me once. “Aren’t babies amazing? They look so deliciously edible.”

  I glanced at Poppy who wore a pink top and a brighter pink tutu that fluffed around her middle with pink, footed leggings. She definitely looked like a baby and not a sandwich. “Maybe you need to get out more often.”

  Lily looked up and yawned. “I get out plenty. I went to… um…” Wrinkling her nose, she pulled a face, apparently not recalling anywhere she’d been lately. “Actually, you’re right, I do. I haven’t left the house in three weeks. Or have I? I’m too tired to remember.”

  “Too busy snacking on Poppy?”

  Lily giggled. “Too busy trying to get ready and by the time that happens, I’m too tired to go out. I’m disorganized, untidy, badly dressed, and my house is a mess. Plus, I think I lost a diaper somewhere. I can smell it but I can’t find it. Unless…” She looked hard at Poppy. “You did another one, didn’t you?” Poppy giggled, her tiny mouth plumping and making little popping noises.

  “Poppy looks cute,” I said, finding a positive.

  “Isn’t she? It’s amazing what four outfit changes per day can do for a month-old baby.” Lily sat back and looked up at me. “Whose idea was it to have a baby?”

  I held my hands up. “Not mine!”

  “How am I supposed to live my life when I can’t even get dressed anymore? How am I going to get to the market? Or go out for coffee? How am I supposed to run my bar? Or help you solve cases? Babies are so time-consuming! I’m not sure I’ve even used my brain since she was born.”

  “You can help me solve a case right now.”

  “You have a case? That’s awesome! Tell me before my brain turns to mush and I’m no use to you at all.”

  “Believe me, this will test your brain,” I said. I launched into Garrett’s story about the impostor while Lily listened patiently. When I finished, she raised her eyebrows.

  “So is she or isn’t she Debby Patterson?”

  “I don’t know. Garrett doesn’t think so but there’s no reason I can see to believe she isn’t. It’s weird.”

  “Is Garrett officially hiring you?”

  “Not exactly. It’s more of a favor.”

  “For MPD?”

  “For Garrett. MPD closed the case.”

  “What did Solomon say?”

  “He said MPD would owe us one and that can’t be a bad thing.”

  “Is he happy about Garrett’s case?”

  “I have no idea. He doesn’t seem unhappy, so long as I don’t take too much time on it. Plus, I did remind him that having an MPD favor is a nice thing.”

  “So, what’s the first step? Do we confront her? Do we break in and steal her DNA to match to some old evidence? Do we need to surveil her?”

  “Actually, I thought I would go home and read the file.”

  “Do you want to cuddle Poppy before you go?”

  I pretended to gasp. “Really? You’ll let someone else touch her?”

  “Did Jord complain again that I’m a baby hog? I do not hog the baby!”

  I laughed. “No, he didn’t but I really want to cuddle her. Please!”

  Lily scooped Poppy off the padded play mat and placed her in my arms. I forgot all about reading the file as I gazed into Poppy’s big eyes. Her warm, tiny body wriggled in my arms and she rested her head against my chest, staring up at me. All my nieces and nephews were pretty babies; and Poppy had clearly inherited the Graves’ pretty baby gene. Combined with Lily’s DNA, which gave her a smattering of blonde hair, she was perfect. Lily however, looked less than perfect. Her usually bouncy blonde curls were flattened and I was pretty sure I could see a Cheerio stuck on one strand on her left side. Her eyes looked tired and she wore baggy pajamas. I was fairly certain the top half belonged to Jord, Lily’s husband, and the youngest of my three brothers. This wasn’t the usual Lily and I had to concede she looked like she was having a hard time.

  “Go take a shower,” I told her. “Get dressed in something for daywear and take your time. Poppy and I will clean up the kitchen and do the laundry.”

  “This is the last time you’ll ever see me like this,” said Lily. She stepped gingerly around Poppy as if she couldn’t quite pry herself away.

  “You’re a new mom. Don’t worry.”

  “I’m not exactly an Instagram mom. I’m a failure. I’m not even wearing makeup! I tried to put concealer under my eyes before you came but I picked up a lip liner instead. The only reason I washed my face today was because I drew on it in bright red lip liner!”

  I pinched my cheeks to hold back a laugh. “You’re sleep-deprived.”

  “Tomorrow, I start over. Today is the last day in this… this… What the hell am I wearing, Lexi?”

  “Jord’s shirt, yesterday’s leggings.” I waved a finger towards the door, being careful not to jolt Poppy. “Take a shower.”

  The moment I heard the water running, I shuffled to my feet and cuddled Poppy’s tiny, warm body against me, regretfully placing her in her buggy so I could wheel her to the laundry room. I stuffed the laundry into the machine, set it to wash and wheeled Poppy to the kitchen. I unloaded the dishwasher, put everything away, and re-stacked the dirty dishes, all the time singing silly songs to the baby. I tidied the counters and checked the refrigerator, throwing out a couple of items past the expiration date. Remembering the dryer, I stepped back into the laundry room and emptied the dry laundry into the large wash basket, which I brought into the kitchen. A spot check confirmed Poppy was fast as
leep in the buggy.

  Smiling, I folded the numerous tiny onesies, miniature pants and t-shirts. Her socks could have been made for a doll. Somehow, laundry was a lot more fun when the clothes didn’t look like they were designed for a real human.

  I left the laundry in the kitchen and wheeled Poppy to the den, parking her in the corner of the room while I grabbed a magazine from the coffee table and sat down to read it. Being a mom didn’t seem so hard but then again, I felt sure I really had no idea. I got plenty of sleep, had a peaceful shower this morning, and my boobs were neither sore nor a constant food source for a tiny tyrant. On the other hand, Poppy was still asleep, I did all the laundry that wasn’t even my own, and was officially winning at being a grown-up.

  By the time Lily returned, she looked like her old self. “Now that I’m me again, how do we catch the criminals?” She eagerly wanted to know more as she took a seat on the couch opposite and leaned her head back to rest against the pillows. “Do you want to good cop, bad cop them?”

  “Neither,” I told her. “First, I want to make a plan. If I went missing, who would you… Lily?”

  Lily’s eyes were closed, and her face looked soft with sleep.

  “I’ll ask someone else,” I whispered. After tucking a blanket over Lily, I then tested Poppy’s restraints. Both were fast asleep and I hoped they stayed that way for a while. Gathering my things together, I tiptoed out of the house.

  ~

  Back home at Solomon-Graves Towers, I fixed a snack of raw vegetables and hummus, adding a bottle of water before I took out my notepad, pondering the question I started to ask Lily. “Who would report me missing?” I wondered, my pen poised. I didn’t need to note my personal answer. That was more a case of who would report me first.

  Of course, Solomon would most definitely find me, probably before I even knew I was missing. I was close to both of my parents who would also definitely notice if I disappeared. My brothers would probably report me missing before my sister did, although I wasn’t sure if that is because they were all police officers or because they care more about me than my sister does. My sisters-in-law would all notice, and most especially, Lily, since she is also my best friend. My other very close friend, and former boyfriend, Adam Maddox, would definitely know if I went missing. He had the full force of the FBI behind him, along with his own law enforcement contacts.

  Apparently, there was no shortage of people who would not fail to report me, a thought which warmed me.

  So why was it left to Debby Patterson’s landlord to report she was missing but only when the rent check failed to arrive on time?

  Where were her parents? Her family? Her friends? Did no one care enough or worry about her? Had she alienated her closest people so much that they no longer cared? Did she make a habit of disappearing so her behavior wasn’t viewed as anything abnormal? Or had something else happened?

  My hand began to cramp as I quickly wrote down my questions.

  I reached for Garrett’s file and double-checked the missing person report. There was little to add to what Garrett had already told me but I noted that Debby’s parents didn’t corroborate her missing person status for another two weeks after the landlord filed his report. By that time, Debby hadn’t been seen for a whole month.

  After a month, my family would have set up a brand new alert system across the nation, broadcasting my face to millions of people. No way would they wait a whole month to simply agree I was missing.

  That told me two important things. One, I had the best family ever. And two, I needed to speak with Debby’s family. I had to find out why her unscheduled disappearance didn’t worry them enough to be seriously upset.

  I flicked through the file as I formulated my plan. Her parents lived in Chilton, one of the nicer parts of Montgomery and not far from me, now that I lived with Solomon in his big townhouse. Since MPD had officially closed the case, I needed a good reason to see them and ask questions about it. I added a big question mark next to the word “parents” and moved onto the small section about Debby’s professional life.

  Ten years ago, Debby worked as a junior graphic designer at a small boutique firm in downtown Montgomery after graduating from a private college. There was an unfamiliar address listed so I used Google Maps on my phone to check its location. It was only a block from The Coffee Bean, a popular coffee shop where I’d drunk more coffees than I could count, and only about a block from the busy shopping on the street.

  At the same time, she rented an apartment within walking distance from her workplace but there wasn’t any record of a roommate in the file so I surmised that she probably lived alone. It must have been small, especially given the location, which had increased in cost over the past decade, currently making it a sought-after, pricey area. The information in the file said Debby had signed the lease around the time the downtown area was just starting to become trendy. If she were smart, she would have found somewhere under rent control, but I guess that point was moot since she hadn’t stuck around long enough for housing prices to become an issue.

  I quickly made a plan. My investigation could start at the apartment with the landlord if he were in residence. Then I would walk the route Debby probably took to work, just to get a feel of what her daily commute was like. Afterwards, I would visit her parents in my semi-official capacity of consulting for the Montgomery Police Department.

  I cleared my plate, tossed the now empty bottle in the recycling can, and grabbed my purse, fumbling for the car keys that I knew lay inside somewhere.

  At The Coffee Bean, I hung a right, drove a block, and shoehorned my black VW into the last parking space on the street, almost opposite Debby’s former apartment. I got out, crossed the street, and peered at the eight entry buzzers on the brass plate fixed to the brickwork. I picked the one marked “supervisor” and pushed.

  “Yes?” came the voice.

  “Hi, I’m looking for the supervisor.”

  “You got him. Are you a resident? Did you lose your keys?” replied the gravelly voice.

  “No, I’m a visitor. I wanted to ask you a couple of questions about a resident.”

  “You can’t press their buzzer?”

  “No, they don’t live here anymore.”

  “Then why are you here? Shouldn’t you be asking them at their new place?”

  “Well…”

  “If you want a reference for the girl who lived in apartment 2B, don’t rent to her. She’s a pain in the ass.”

  “Good to know. Could I come inside and speak with you? I promise I won’t take up much of your time.” I glanced up at the sky, grimacing when the rain that was threatening to fall all day began to spatter. Having a conversation through the intercom in the rain would be tiresome and I didn’t want to wait around for the hours it could take before I could slip through the doors behind another resident.

  “Were you here about renting 2B?” he wondered.

  I seized on that. “Yes. I really want to see it. Please!”

  “I’ll be with you in a minute.” The intercom went dead. Seconds later, a man approached from the corridor and opened the door. I expected an elderly man from the sound of his voice but the supervisor couldn’t have been older than forty. When he spoke again, his voice was just as gravelly. “I’m Dan. So you want to see 2B?”

  “Absolutely!” I beamed.

  “I’m sure you are probably aware already but, just in case, you gotta know, the open house was yesterday and I already took four applications from viable candidates. If you want the apartment, you’ve got plenty of competition.”

  “Thank you, I’ll bear that in mind. Have you worked here long?” I asked, edging forwards before going inside as he took the hint and stepped back.

  “Three years.”

  “Oh. What happened to the guy before you? I thought the building was owned by the supervisor,” I said as the man headed for the stairs, leaving me to hurry after him. Thankfully I’d changed to sneakers and I didn’t have to teeter after him i
n heels.

  “It was, but my brother took off three years ago to travel the world and hasn’t seen enough of it yet. I’m managing it in his absence.”

  “That sounds exciting,” I said, thinking of all the places I’d never seen. “Didn’t he like being a supervisor?”

  “Not as much as he likes Bora Bora.”

  Images of azure ocean, pure blue sky, and sandy beaches washed into my mind. “I can understand that.”

  The man shot a smile over his shoulder. “Me too.”

  “So, who else lives here?”

  “We’ve got fifteen apartments here, mostly singles or couples. All professionals. We have a strict vetting policy for the benefit of all residents. Only small pets. Absolutely no snakes. Are you a professional?”

  “Of course,” I said, hoping he didn’t ask what I did professionally. PIs weren’t all that popular. At a guess, more popular than snakes, but probably not by much. People seemed to think it was because PIs had a higher propensity for getting shot at, stabbed, or tracked down by psychotic lunatics. Unfortunately, in my case, they were right.

  “Single or couple?”

  “Couple.”

  “Your husband will need to be your co-applicant on the lease. Is he a professional?”

  I thought of all the things Solomon was very professional at, but with all modesty, I said, “Most definitely.”

  “We don’t accept smokers, parties, or pets, especially not crocodiles.”

  “Crocodiles?”

  “It doesn’t matter how little they are, they grow bigger and they make the other residents uncomfortable. Here’s 2B.” He pushed his key into the door and opened it up to a small apartment. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but this is a little undersized for a couple. It’s one of our smaller units.”