No Gun Intended Page 7

  Perry folded his arms across his chest and frowned. “Should I be calling the police right now, telling them that you’re here and that you’re connected to the gun?”

  I shook my head. “No, they already know about me. Really. Look, can you just tell us one thing?” He recrossed his arms and didn’t say anything, so I kept talking. “Do you know either Loren Scranton or Wesley Young?”

  “No.”

  “Did you know that Hank Howard was a drug addict from New York?” Luis asked.

  Perry’s eyes got wide as he leaned toward Luis, his forearms on the bar. “We don’t have drugs in this bar. No dealers, no smokers, none of that. Hank came in here for beers and companionship. He was a nice guy. I never had any trouble from him, and I never heard anyone saying a bad word about him.” He stood up. “I won’t have people talking about this place like it’s a hangout for criminals.”

  “What did Hank tell you about himself, then?”

  Perry turned to me. “He was quiet. And I don’t pry.”

  “Did he have any hobbies, or a girlfriend, or did he have a job, or…?”

  “Look!” Perry was leaning toward me, now. “I told you, his life was none of my business. If people don’t want to talk, I don’t press it.”

  I nodded. “I’m sorry. We don’t mean to piss you off. It is just very upsetting to find my backpack was switched at the airport with one holding the gun that shot Hank. Actually, his name was Howard Hanks. Anyway, I appreciate your help, and I really do love your bar, and you’ve been very nice to us. I’m sorry, again.”

  Perry’s shoulders relaxed a little bit. He picked up our glasses and put them in the sink. “You know, I just this minute remembered something. Hank, or Howard, or whatever his name was, he liked a girl. He told me he was really happy about it. He didn’t tell me her name. He said she liked to play pool and that he would meet up with her at the Uptown Billiards Club. This was probably a week before he got shot.”

  Luis placed a twenty on the bar. “Thank you, Perry, for your help. We are grateful. And we are very pleased to meet you and spend time in your establishment.”

  I grabbed my purse and stood up, too. “Ditto, all of that, Perry. Maybe we’ll come back for ‘Rawhide’ night or poetry.”

  Perry sighed. “Don’t bring any trouble with you, that’s all I ask.”

  ***

  Luis was on the phone with Mickey as soon as I pulled away from the curb. “Mick, yes, she went in with me. It was fine. The bartender was helpful. We have another lead.” And then he told him about the Uptown Billiards Club.

  I was forgetting about being afraid and in danger and instead imagining this billiards club and what I might wear when we all went there later that night, figuring that, of course, we would. Ask some questions, see if we could find out about Howard Hanks’ girl, maybe she was Claudia.

  I love to play pool! I’m pretty good, but more important, how can you not feel hot, playing pool? Leaning over the table, shifting your hip to the side as you line up a shot, hearing the smashing of those balls. It’s enough to make a nonsmoker like me want a cigarette, just thinking about it.

  Luis hung up. “Mickey, he is relieved that our meeting with Perry went well, but he is on edge. He wants to talk to you later.”

  I bit my lip, sorry that I had worried Mickey, but feeling good about the progress Luis and I were making. “Is his case finished?”

  “He sounds optimistic. Like he is getting close, maybe tonight.”

  “Luis, look, do you still want to move to New York? I mean, you and Ruby? Since the baby is coming and all?”

  “Yes, amiga, we are decided. Ruby, she does not like Las Vegas very much. She does not have a lot of friends there, and with everything that happened with the bad cops last year, well, we are both ready to move. We will have brand new start and a brand new baby!”

  I laughed. “Good. I was worried. Me and Mickey, we want you there. We wouldn’t be good just the two of us. We need you as a partner.”

  “You and Mickey are very good, just the two of you.”

  “Yes! But not in the business. It’ll be better with three.”

  Luis paused. “Ah. You think I will take your side when there is a disagreement?”

  I frowned. “Well, not always, I guess, but sometimes, anyway.”

  “No comment, amiga.” Luis turned on the radio and The Shins came on, one of Portland’s famous homespun bands.

  I pulled up in front of the house and locked the car. We both walked up the steps. I had the house key ready, when Luis motioned with his hand for me to stop, and then held a finger to his lips.

  The front door was ajar.

  “They probably just left it open, Luis,” I whispered, trying to convince myself as much as him.

  He kept one hand up and with the other picked up a smooth stone that was sitting on the porch. Dad often kept rocks that he found while gardening. This one had a surprisingly regular oval shape and was smooth all around, but for one pointed end.

  We tiptoed in, me behind Luis, and I heard whimpering.

  Dusty.

  I made my way quietly to the coat closet and opened the door. She came out, wagging her tail and her butt like nobody’s business and leaned against me, wanting pets.

  “They would never put her in the closet,” I whispered again, my voice considerably shakier this time.

  Luis crept to the den, found his bag, and pulled out his gun and clip. He loaded it and indicated that I should take Dusty outside. I shook my head. He frowned and pointed at the door, but I insisted.

  “Dusty could help. She helped out last time.” Dusty had kept a firm hold on a very bad man’s leg during the siege at my parents’ house in California.

  Luis turned away and started going through the house, room by room, with me and Dusty behind him. Upstairs, nothing. Backyard, nothing. My parents were nowhere to be found.

  Luis laid his gun on the coffee table downstairs, sat on the couch, and let out a breath of relief. “Perhaps we are overreacting. Could they have simply gone for a walk?”

  I slid onto the couch. “And leave Dusty in the closet? No. This is weird. They wouldn’t do that.” Dusty plopped her head on my lap and gazed at me with her adoring eyes.

  Then I saw a business card on the coffee table. It wasn’t there that morning. I picked it up by the edges and gasped.

  “Amiga?”

  I handed it to Luis.

  It read, “Loren Scranton, CPA.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  It’s an odd situation, when you don’t know if it’s dire or innocent. I was trying not to be alarmed, but missing parents with a dog in the closet…that’s just plain alarming. Still, I was hesitant to call the police. We’d been seeing too much of them lately, and I kept thinking about my parents’ behavior the previous morning. Maybe they had some big secret. Maybe they left in a hurry and forgot to shut the door. Maybe Dusty liked being put in the closet.

  I looked in there, to see if there were any doggie toys or treats or a doggie bed or food. I found a tennis ball, with remnants of doggie slime. Nothing else.

  I picked up the stone that Luis had left on the futon when he traded it for his gun. It wasn’t even pretty. An interesting shape, but rocks? My astrophysicist brilliant father?

  Luis had gone outside to look around, saying he might approach some neighbors, see if they had seen Mom and Dad. I didn’t know any of the neighbors. Did Mom and Dad know them?

  I sat down on the floor with Dusty and studied Scranton’s card, now in a ziplock bag. It was a little bit damaged, like it had been held too tightly in someone’s hand. It told me nothing, except his address and phone number.

  I jumped up and pulled out my phone. I would call this creepoid wine-spilling stalker and demand that he tell me what the hell was going on or it would be a long day in hell the next time he saw me, I te
ll you what. My hands were shaking as I started to hit the numbers.

  Then I stopped, because I looked out the window and saw Mom and Dad, laughing, while they followed Luis up to the house from across the street.

  I dropped the phone and flung the front door open. “What the hell! What happened?! Where were you? I thought you were kidnapped, or dead, or running for your lives, or…”

  Mom pulled up short, but Dad sprinted up the stairs and took me in his arms. “Muffinhead, we’re so sorry. We were gone just a few minutes. Stopped to see our neighbors. We must have left the door open by mistake.”

  “Dusty was in the CLOSET!”

  Dad nodded. “Let me show you something.” He led me to the closet and called Dusty over. “Open, girl. Open.”

  Dusty finagled her paw along the bottom of the door and it popped open. Then she waddled inside and did the same thing, shutting it behind her.

  Dad beamed. “Good girl!” he praised her through the closed door. Then, to me, “I taught her that trick! The only problem is, she can’t seem to open the door from the inside, for some reason. I’ve never known her to do this unless she’s performing it as a trick. I’ll have to put some sort of latch on here….” His voice faded out when he opened the door, and Dusty emerged, wiggling and wagging all around us.

  Mom and Luis had come in, but Mom wasn’t beaming. “Jeff.” She got Dad’s attention.

  “What is it, Syl?”

  She put her arm around me. “The business card? Luis told me.”

  I handed it over to Dad. “He was here. The dirtbag was here. Must have walked right in because you guys are too happy-go-lucky these days to close and lock your front door.”

  Dad took a look at it and gave it to Mom, who only glanced at it before she handed it to me. “Darling, we’re sorry we scared you. But I don’t understand this. We were gone maybe twenty minutes, tops. Why would he come here, come inside, drop off a card, and leave?” Mom turned to Luis.

  “Folks, I see this as two possibilities. One is good. One is bad.”

  “How can this be good, Luis?” I asked. “I mean, how does he even know where Mom and Dad live? He saw us in the Pearl the other day, and now he’s followed us to the house? It’s way too creepy.” I shuddered.

  Mom suddenly looked ill, scrunching up her mouth and closing her eyes. “I told him.”

  “WHAT?”

  “When he and I chatted at the airport, I told him where we lived.”

  “THE ADDRESS??”

  Her eyes were still closed. “Well, not exactly, but the name of the street, and that we were behind the Sunshine Bakery, and, oh shit.”

  “WHAT?”

  “Annabelle, please stop yelling at me.” She took a breath. “I mentioned that Jeff had planted a beautiful garden in the front with a Japanese maple tree.”

  I sat down. “You told a complete stranger this in the baggage claim area of an airport? Did you hand over your social security number, too, along with your mother’s maiden name?”

  “Amiga, please, your mother did nothing wrong. She is friendly, that is all. People talk about their houses and their gardens.”

  Dad agreed. “Absolutely right, Syl, none of this is your fault.”

  I rubbed my face. “Luis, what is the good thing that this could mean? His being here?”

  “He could be innocently looking for you both for reasons we do not know.”

  “Good thought,” said Dad. “Entirely possible.”

  “Right,” I said. “Or he’s tracking us down about the gun and the backpack. Maybe he hurt Claudia. Maybe he killed Hank Howard or Howard Hanks or whatever his name is.”

  Luis sat down next to me. “If he meant great harm, Annabelle, would he have left a calling card?”

  I leaned against him. “Probably not, unless he left it as a threat.”

  Luis hugged me and kissed the side of my head. “If that is what he is doing, he is a very foolish man. He has more to worry about than any of us.”

  “I was going to call him. Do you think I should?”

  Luis shrugged. “I say we ignore him.”

  “I like you, Luis!” exclaimed my mother, who was heading toward the kitchen. “You are welcome here any time, any day, all the time!” I heard her open the refrigerator. “Jeff, dear, will you open this? We should celebrate!”

  I turned around to see my mother holding out a bottle of champagne. Four flutes were already positioned on a tray on the counter.

  Dad smiled and did a little dancey walk over to her. They kissed, and he started unwrapping the foil at the top of the bottle.

  I stood up and threw my hands in the air. “What the fuck are we celebrating? You people are crazy! We have big problems here, and you want to drink champagne?” I envisioned spending the rest of my time in Portland talking to elder-care facilities.

  Luis, frowning, stood up, too.

  Dad popped open the bubbly and motioned us to come to the kitchen, while he poured. “We have big news, Bea. Just found out this afternoon that it’s all set, so we can tell you about it now.”

  He handed each of us a glass, then took one for himself and raised it. We followed suit, though for me and Luis, the motion was halfhearted at best.

  “Your mother and I, Bea, are about to embark on a great adventure. We’ve invested in a new business, with Sal and Drew, across the street.” He paused to kiss Mom. “We are the proud owners of the Sunshine Bakery!”

  I was too stunned to drink. My mouth was agape. Luis and my parents clinked glasses and sipped. I stayed frozen.

  “Honey? Come on now, this is exciting news!” My mother was all aglow.

  “Mom.” I put my glass down. “You don’t cook, let alone bake. You know nothing about business, and by the way, neither do you, Dad. And who are Sal and Drew? Tell me why this is good news! The world does not need dry muffins, bland cakes, rock-hard cookies, and banana bread that is more like banana gushy!”

  Mom laughed like that was the funniest thing she ever heard. Dad gave me an oh-you-are such-a darling-daughter look. “You mother will not bake. Sal and Drew bake. We’re simply investors. We like them. You will, too. In fact, they’ve invited us over for dinner tonight!”

  “And, Miss Nervous Nellie, I have decided to walk away from the hospital for good—but I’ll sue them to pay out my contract, those fucks—and take on more hours at the clinic. So I’ll be plenty busy.”

  I picked up my champagne and chugged it. “I am happy for you, I think. I don’t know. This has been a very strange afternoon.” I put the empty glass down. “I’m going to take a nap. Then Luis and I have to go to the Uptown Billiards Club, to follow up on a lead. So I don’t know if we can make dinner.”

  Luis coughed. “Annabelle, I think we can go to that club after dinner. It would not be a good thing to decline the invitation, do you think?”

  I regarded the three of them, and just one thing rang through my head, loud and clear: Mickey, please get your ass out here.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I was totally out of sorts. I lay down on the bed upstairs and tried to breathe deeply while studying the ceiling, which had absolutely nothing to offer beyond white space. I pulled out my phone and dialed Mickey. No answer. I left him a message. “They’re buying a bakery, Mickey. We’re drinking champagne and they’re buying a friggin’ bakery while Loren Scranton was inside their house. Dusty can open closet doors. Where are you?” I hung up.

  I rolled onto my side and eventually fell asleep. I dreamed about me and Dusty finding our way through a strange house, looking for I don’t know what, while my mother followed us, covered in flour.

  Dad woke me up, jostling me gently. “Bea, time to wake up. We’re expected at Sal and Drew’s.”

  I opened my eyes. Dusty was staring right into them, across the top of the bed. “Okay, Dad.” I pushed myself up to sitting and pa
tted Dusty on the head. “Dad, really, a bakery?”

  “You’ll see, muffin. You’ll like our neighbors. Good people. And I promise, neither your mother nor I will do any of the actual baking. I am looking forward to sprucing the place up a bit.”

  I rubbed my eyes. “Maybe we should go there in the morning for pastries?”

  He shook his head. “No, it’s closed as of yesterday until we have a grand opening.” His eyes sparkled.

  “Dad, um, have you forgotten that you’re an astrophysicist?”

  He smiled. “Hell, darling, I’m just Jeff Starkey, when all is said and done.” He winked at me. “Wash your face, put on some shoes, and let’s go.” He left.

  I did what he told me to do. In fact, it’s hard to recall any time in my life when I didn’t do what my father asked. He and I have a strong unspoken bond. I never had the urge to rebel against him. He was always calm and reasonable, whereas my doctor mother was excitable and outspoken and, more times than I liked to remember, embarrassing. Dad, no, he was reliable. Dependable.

  I changed my clothes to look a little nicer for the new business-partner neighbors. While I was dressing in black slacks and a silky bright blue top, Mom called up to me that they were heading over with Luis and I should just come as soon as I was ready. “It’s the gray house with the green trim, right across the street.”

  I brushed on mascara, checked my phone for messages from Mickey, sent him a text (R U OK? I am a little worried) and headed downstairs and out the front door. I carefully locked it with the key Dad had given me.

  I rang the doorbell and a handsome man—in his forties, I figured—answered. I held out my hand. “You must be Drew. Hi, I’m Annabelle, Sylvia and Jeff’s daughter…”

  “Annabelle!” He grabbed my hand, led me inside, and hugged me. “It is so good to meet you! But no, I’m Sal. Drew’s inside with your folks and Luis. What a charmer he is, right? Can you both move out here so that we can have endless nights of wine, song, and games? I mean it, your parents are the greatest, and now I can tell already that you are, too, and when will we meet Mickey, who I understand is quite the macho man?”