How to Fetch a Felon Page 2

  “Yeah. According to the folks living in the house directly behind the car lot, a male was pounding on Ziggy’s door and hollering about Ziggy selling him a lemon car, and how he wanted a refund. The neighbors said they never got a look at the guy, but he took off in a white car and got the license plate as he drove away. I walked over to the lot to speak with Ziggy—and the smell—I knew before I kicked the door in, he was dead.”

  “I’m sorry you were the one who found him. It must’ve been awful.”

  He pushed away from the car, retrieved his hat, and forced a smile. “Sometimes, dead bodies come with the job.” He planted a quick kiss on my lips. “I need to head back to the station and see if we can find out anything about this creepy Santa gift.”

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, I finished unpacking the delivery boxes that arrived while I was at Pop’s house. Still processing the doom and gloom of Stoney’s weird Secret Santa gift, and Jackson discovering Ziggy’s body, I found unboxing quiet and therapeutic.

  The last box read: Holly Jolly Supply Co. I snatched a pair of scissors from the side counter and sliced through the tape sealing the box. It contained our reindeer antlers for Buckleville’s annual Reindeer Stampede 5K, which would take place downtown over the upcoming weekend. I removed two pairs from the plastic bag and slid one pair on my head and the other pair on Daniel’s.

  “To brighten our day and give us some holiday cheer!” I tweaked his nose.

  “I love Christmas,” he said, grinning. “Did you remember to order a pair for Lucas too?”

  Daniel had met Lucas a few months ago. Lucas’s family owned a grass-fed beef steakhouse in Austin. Gentle and even-tempered, Lucas complimented Daniel’s sometimes over-the-top temperament well.

  “I sure did. I even ordered a tiny pair for Cuff and Taffy since they’ll be running with us.”

  “Awesome! How about some tunes to help get your mind off the rotten day yesterday?”

  “Sounds good, friend.” I managed a smile.

  Daniel hooked his phone up to the Bluetooth speaker and we listened to Christmas music while we worked.

  Humming along with the joyful carols, I broke down the cardboard boxes and hauled them out the back door to the dumpster. When I returned, I found Pop and Stoney coming down the hallway.

  Bells jingled from the lobby.

  “Hey, y’all. Who’s ringing bells up there?”

  Pop’s expression was priceless. “Wait until you get an eyeful of Gertie’s wardrobe choice for work today. It’s a doozy.”

  “By the sound, she’s a one-man band,” I said.

  “You have no idea,” he replied.

  I poked my head into the groom room. “Your assistant has arrived, with bells on.”

  Daniel chuckled. “Oh, I need to see this.”

  We followed Pop and Stoney into the front lobby and found Gertie bent over near the window, plugging in the Christmas lights. As she stood, a chorus of bells sounded.

  “What’s hangin’?” Gertie said. She wore an oversized, bright red Christmas sweater. Christmas trees and reindeer adorned the front with Let’s Party! knitted in the middle, tiny silver bells sewn to each tree. Her boots were the kicker. Green knit slipper boots with plaid ribbon trim, a gold star on the toes, and each slipper had its own pair of bells. Pop shrugged and gave me a sorry-I-tried expression.

  “I see you two are showing your own holiday spirit,” Gertie said, grinning over at me.

  I reached up and wiggled one of my felt antlers. “Yep.”

  “I need to run your sister back to College Station,” Pop said.

  I glanced at Stoney. “Why? Is something wrong?”

  Stoney shook her head as her hand instinctively traveled across her round belly. “Nothing’s wrong. But I want an ultrasound, and they didn’t have time to do one yesterday. They offered to do the test today, or I wait another month. I didn’t want to wait. I told Pop since we’d finally got my driving license renewed, I could drive myself, but he’s insisting.”

  What a relief the baby’s okay, I thought. “Oh, think of him as your personal chauffeur. C’mon, I’ll walk y’all out.” We left Gertie to assist Daniel with getting the groom room ready for our first clients. “Stoney, I saw the perfect car for you over at Ziggy’s lot. I’m not sure how they’ll deal with the cars now that Ziggy died, but maybe we can look into it.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “If you’re talking about the cute blue Bug, I saw it too! It’d be great except for the car seat issue.” She patted her belly.

  “The good thing is the Bug’s seats lift and push forward, making it easy to get in the back. It wouldn’t be too bad, but you may be right. I saw the car yesterday and thought of you.”

  Stoney smiled.

  “I’m not sure I’m ready for her to drive,” Pop said, narrowing his eyes.

  We both shot him an irritated glance.

  “Come on, Pop. I don’t want to be late,” Stoney said.

  “Maybe they’ll be able to auction the cars off once someone deals with the legal papers. Pop, do you know if he has any family?”

  Pop frowned. “A brother, but I don’t do business with crooks.”

  I held up my hands in defense. “Okay, I get it. I’ll see you two later. Safe travels!” I said and closed Stoney’s door of the Jeep.

  I went back inside and watched them drive away, thinking Pop’s comment about Ziggy’s brother was odd. “When he said he doesn’t ‘do business with crooks,’ did he mean Ziggy, his brother, or his used car business?” I whispered to myself.

  Cuff trotted into the lobby. What is up, Chiquita?

  “Oh, Pop is being his overbearing self. Again.” I moved to the counter and applied pet photos to the small circular red and green construction paper cutouts with a glue stick. They were our decorations for the lobby Christmas tree.

  You know your father means best. Cuff stretched out in the middle of the checkered floor.

  “Most times, yes, he does.”

  I listened to Gertie and Daniel singing Christmas carols off-key while I finished hanging our clients’ photos on the tree, and Cuff snored away on the floor.

  AFTER A FULL DAY OF grooms, Daniel and I relaxed in the lobby, admiring the photos on the tree, over a toasty beverage, coffee for him, hot tea for me. Moments ago, Pop and Stoney stopped in and picked up Gertie, and the three of them went home.

  “Still can’t drink coffee, huh?” Daniel asked.

  I shook my head. “Afraid not.”

  After my own near poisoned coffee experience with Lizzie Madden three months ago, when she tried to force it down my throat after I discovered she’d been the one who’d murdered Petunia, I couldn’t bring myself to drink it any longer. Unfortunately, even the thought of drinking it triggered a strong fight-or-flight response.

  We chatted about the day’s clients. Greta and her gorgeous white Persian cat, Farah, had come in for a de-shed. Honey dropped in with Pooka, a giant white Pyrenees, to get a green and red tail tinting for the holidays. Mr. Walton and his black lab, Sid, came in for the dog’s every other week herbal conditioning, to treat a skin condition, which made him stink like the inside of an athlete’s wet shoe. And we saw our newest client Sadie Westerfeld and her golden Pomeranian, Muffin, for a full groom and blowout.

  Daniel leaned his head against the wall, his eyes closed. “Where’s Cuff? He’s been so quiet today.”

  I peeked down the hallway. “He’s in his bed in my office. I was thinking about making him a vet appointment. I’m wondering if he’s feeling bad.” Although I couldn’t tell Daniel, I’d asked Cuff if he felt sick, but he replied that all he wanted to do was sleep. I figured a checkup wouldn’t hurt.

  “Poor little guy,” Daniel said.

  I finished my tea and strolled over and switched off the coffeemaker. There’s nothing worse than the stench of burned coffee, not to mention the gunky mess it left in the carafe.

  Cuff limped into the lobby. Oh, Chiquita. I am hurting.

  “What’s wrong, sweet
guy?” I bent over and inspected each of Cuff’s paws and pads.

  I think it is in my knees or is it my elbows? I do not know which, but my legs are all achy.

  “What do you think it is?” Daniel asked.

  “I don’t know. I can’t feel anything,” I said.

  “Hmm. Definitely a trip to the vet if he keeps limping.” Daniel flipped off the overhead lobby lights.

  Did he say, vet? I do not want to go to the vet. I think I am feeling much better. See? Cuff trotted around the lobby, trying to convince me there was nothing wrong.

  I squinted. “Well, we’ll see how you feel tomorrow, Cuff.” I stood up and turned to Daniel. “You ready to call it a day?”

  Daniel shrugged and tied his scarf in a knot around his neck. “Yes, ma’am, my dogs are barking. Let me make sure everything’s off in the groom room.”

  Cuff twisted his head up at Daniel. Chiquita, where are his dogs? I would like to meet them!

  I snickered. “He means his feet, little buddy.”

  Oh, I thought I had new friends. Bummer.

  “Sorry, Cuff, no new friends.”

  The shop phone rang. The caller ID read our family’s house phone. I answered.

  “Steely speaking.”

  “I’m gonna need you to drop whatever you’re doing and come over.”

  “Is anyone hurt?”

  Oh, please let everyone be okay, I thought.

  Cuff yipped. Does somebody need a rescue, Chiquita?

  “No, just get here as quick as you can. And pack a bag. You’re staying the night.”

  My stomach sank.

  “Jackson is heading over now.”

  We hung up as Daniel breezed into the lobby.

  “Who was that?”

  “Pop, and something’s wrong at home. Will you please come with me?”

  Fifteen minutes later, we circled around the kitchen table at my dad’s place. Gertie had boiled water and served everyone a cup of tea. She set a plate of iced sugar cookies in the center of the table and plopped down in a chair.

  “Jackson, what are you thinking?” Pop asked, peering over his glasses.

  The entire room fell silent, waiting for Jackson’s assessment of the Secret Santa gift for Stoney. Earlier, they’d arrived home after picking up Gertie from work and discovered a man peeking into Stoney’s bedroom window and another gift hanging from the front doorknob.

  Jackson exhaled heavily. “Well, not that anyone at this table wants to hear what I’m about to say, but it’s clear someone is targeting Stoney.”

  “You’re stating the obvious, son. What I want to hear is who you think it is, and what is the department going to do about it?” he asked in a curt tone.

  “Pop, please don’t be rude,” I said, glancing at the small Christmas bag in the middle of the table. It was a natural brown sack with a big green tree on the front with the words, Oh, Christmas Tree. White tissue paper sat next to it, along with an envelope with Stoney’s name on it, the card, and a tiny set of hand-knit yellow, white, and mint green mittens.

  “Jackson, I’m not trying to offend you. I’m worried,” Pop said, shifting in his chair.

  Jackson nodded. “Mr. Lamarr, I completely understand.”

  I sighed as I leaned over and picked up the card. I opened and read it again. Same type from an old-school typewriter with a handwritten C.

  On the 2nd day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, two tiny mittens, and a teddy bear in an oak tree. Love, your Secret Santa

  I closed it and tossed it back into the center of the table.

  “So, we need to figure out our next move,” I said.

  “We will track down the son of a gun responsible for these gifts and peeking in her window, and I’m gonna kill him,” Pop said in a growl.

  “Are you thinking the gifts came from the same guy at her window?” I asked.

  “Damn straight I do.”

  “We have two units out searching for a man meeting your first description,” Jackson said, flipping open his little black notebook. “But let’s go over exactly what you saw when you pulled into the driveway one more time.”

  Pop recited his version. “He was white, tall, broad-shouldered. He wore a dark beanie cap pulled down low, so I never got a look at the color of his hair. He wore a thick tan jacket—maybe a Carhartt—a pair of faded blue jeans and boots. We made eye contact for a few seconds through the windshield. Something about his face seemed familiar, although I can’t quite place it. I threw the Jeep into park and jumped from the cab, but by then, he’d turned and leapt over the wooden fence at the neighbor’s house. When I looked over the fence, he had vanished.”

  Jackson turned to Gertie and Stoney. “What did you see?”

  Gertie pursed her lips. “Unfortunately, I had twisted in my seat, looking at Stoney and discussing baby stuff.” She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup. “I saw nothing until Randall here cussed so much, he could’ve filled my swear jar twice in one outburst.”

  “Mother, stop exaggerating.” Pop frowned at her.

  “What about you, Stoney?” Jackson asked. “Did you see anything?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I’m sorry. But please find out what is going on. I need y’all to figure out who is doing this. I want it to stop. It’s making me feel uncomfortable and unsafe.”

  I noticed Pop’s eyes fill with tears, and he fought to keep them from spilling over.

  “We will do our best, Stoney. I promise,” Jackson said.

  I only hoped they caught the creep before anything bad happened to my sister.

  Chapter 3

  Later that evening, after Jackson left and joined the other two units searching, we all settled in the living room and tried to lighten the mood by discussing Stoney’s ultrasound. Cuff and Virgil, Pop’s dog, lay on the floor snoozing. Cuff’s tiny feet twitched while he dreamed. Virgil once belonged to Scrubadub’s night janitor, Samson. Samson’s life brutally ended one night in July. He’d witnessed a pair of robbers staking out the Buckleville Bank from the upstairs window of Scrubadub, and they murdered him to keep him from talking. Virgil, the giant, black and white fuzzy canine provided wonderful companionship for my father.

  Stoney’s eyes glistened. “Well, I’m twenty-eight weeks, so I’m just ending the second trimester.” Her voice was soft. “The doctor says the baby is growing well and I seem on track with my due date of April 30th. Oh, and I need to eat better.”

  Pop cleared his throat, a concerned expression in his eyes. “He said more. You need to consume more calories.”

  “Have you seen the size of my belly?” Stoney rubbed her baby bump.

  “You’re what we like to call all-baby, dumplin’,” Gertie said, her eyes sparkling.

  “She’s right,” I added.

  “And, are you ready for the best part?” Stoney asked.

  “Um, yes!” I asked, excited to hear the news.

  “It’s a girl,” she said, patting her stomach.

  I jumped out of my seat and hugged her. “Oh my goodness! I’m so excited! We’ll get to dress her up so cute! And put bows in her hair!”

  “And I will be her personal shopper and hair stylist!” Daniel squealed.

  The happy atmosphere was a nice shift from earlier.

  Stoney squeezed me. “Gosh, I think y’all are more excited than me.”

  “Maybe Steely can pass her special boots down to her someday,” Gertie said.

  The whole room erupted into laughter.

  My special boots were knee-high, lace-up camo boots with spiked heels and they were a staple in my wardrobe.

  After we finished our teas, and Stoney went to bed, we called Daniel’s mom and told her we’d had a rough day, and he would stay the night with me. We’d convinced Pop to let us go back to my apartment since Daniel was staying over. A year ago, after his mother had grown ill, he’d moved from Houston to move in with her and help her out with her medical bills.

  Cuff winced in pain as he stood, letting out a ti
ny yelp.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Pop asked.

  “I don’t know. But I’m making him a vet appointment tomorrow,” I said, frowning at my pup. “Poor little guy.”

  “Maybe he hurt himself running around after Taffy like a wild guy,” Gertie said.

  “Maybe,” I said. I put my arm through Daniel’s. “You ready to head to my place?”

  “But I don’t have a toothbrush or my PJs. So, can we stop by the store and at least grab a toothbrush?” Daniel asked.

  Pop held up his hands. “Hold that thought!” He rushed out of the room and returned a moment later with a brand-new pair of flannel pajamas and a new toothbrush still in its package.

  “Here. You can have these. We always keep a supply of new toothbrushes in the house,” Pop said, handing the stack of goods to Daniel.

  I eyed the red and black flannels. “Uh, I gave those to you last Christmas.” I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at him.

  “Steels,” Pop said, glancing from face to face. “You know I don’t wear pajamas. I sleep in—”

  “Stop!” I held a finger to my mouth. “We don’t need to hear how you sleep!” I did a facepalm. “Geez, Louise! Let’s get out of here. Goodnight, y’all.”

  Daniel giggled on the way out the front door. “That was funny. It made me feel somewhat better.”

  We climbed into the car, and I started the engine. “I could live a hundred years without knowing my dad sleeps in the... oh my goodness, I can’t even say it.”

  “Nude,” Daniel said, covering a grin.

  “Yeah, that.”

  I WOKE EARLY THE FOLLOWING morning and dressed in my running clothes. I texted Jackson to see what time he wanted to run, but he asked if we could reschedule. He’d worked late into the night, dealing with the peeping Tom incident, and wanted to get a few more hours of sleep. I would try running on my own. Training for the annual marathon proved to be a bigger challenge than I thought.

  Daniel snuggled with Cuff on the couch, fast asleep. I tried sneaking out the door when Cuff peeked one eye open.

  Chiquita, where are you going?