Kristin Ashe: Disorderly Attachments Part 27

"That was the good news?"

"Thought so. Evidently it's open to interpretation."

"I'm hardly jumping for joy," I said, tired.

"You will be compared to the other morsels."

"Get it over with."

"Seems O'Keefe and Ba.s.sett left Phoenix abruptly. O'Keefe gave up the top post under a cloud of suspicion. Resigned from the school district because of 'politics,' but you know that's a euphemism for questionable conduct."

"Probably."

"I'm tracking down stories that would raise the hair on your neck, but I can't impart any yet."

"Keep up the good work," I said, unwilling to rise to Fran's bait. She had an irritating habit of withholding tantalizing details and making me grovel for them.

"Guess who ain't sharing the sheets no more?"

"I give up."

"I'm waiting for secondary confirmation, but it appears as if Ba.s.sett gave O'Keefe the boot. Sent her packing back to her own house, the one on Holly Street."

"Hmm," I said, displaying no emotion.

Fran eyed me with suspicion. "None of this surprises you, does it?"

I met her gaze but didn't reply.

"What have you been doing, Kris?" she said, almost with pity.

"Nothing," I mumbled.

"We had an agreement. You'd work Bert's case, I'd work over Carolyn O'Keefe. How'd you find out about the incidents in the desert."

"From a woman who sat next to me at that stupid networking meeting you forced me to attend," I said hotly. "She gossiped the whole time. What was I supposed to do?"

"The chamber lunch?"

I nodded.

"Who's the broad with the big mouth?"

"Patty Ossorio. She was friends with Shirley when she lived in Phoenix."

Fran sucked her teeth. "Interesting. The marital rift, how'd that come to your attention?"

I pulled the photo of Destiny out of my backpack. "I found this in Carolyn's nightstand." When I saw the displeasure etched on Fran's forehead, I realized too late that I should have lied.

"You came by this how?" she said in a soft, rather menacing voice.

"I stopped by Carolyn's house."

"When and for what purpose?"

"Earlier tonight. Curiosity," I said evenly.

A vein in Fran's neck throbbed. "You gained entry how?"

"I used the key she hides in the bush next to the front step."

"The key's location was detected by what means?"

"The old man next door told me where to look."

"Come again?"

"He's an idiot. He thought I was the housekeeper."

Given Fran's awareness of my steadfast refusal to pick up after anyone, that statement broke the tension. A fraction of Fran's mild temperament returned with her loud burst of laughter, but she fixed me with a harsh look. "Not wise, kiddo. You left behind a witness. Sloppy work."

"I don't care, Fran," I said, my voice splintering. "I've had it with this woman, with this situation."

"You don't trust me?"

"It's not about you."

"You don't trust Destiny?"

"It's not about her. Can't you see that Carolyn O'Keefe is pathological?"

"No argument there."

"I can't sit around and do nothing," I said desperately. "What are you doing?"

"More than you think."

"Not enough, obviously. Is Carolyn still pursuing Destiny?"

"You sure you want to know?"

"Yes," I said, reticent.

"Seems to be."

I shook my head in disgust.

"Moved up from following her to pretending to b.u.mp into her. Had two supposedly chance encounters with Destiny last week. One at Whole Foods, one at Tower Records."

"Doesn't Destiny suspect something?"

"She might. The girl ain't dumb, and at Tower, she didn't look pleased."

"Why can't she tell Carolyn to f.u.c.k off?"

"Too much at stake. Plus, yours truly has managed to shelter her from the worst."

"Which is?"

"I've s.n.a.t.c.hed up a dozen business cards from your girlfriend's windshield, left there compliments of the psycho."

"What kind of business cards?"

"The 'Superintendent of Metro Denver Public Schools' variety. Complete with quaint messages on the back."

"She leaves Destiny notes?"

"Like a schoolgirl. I've taken all I could but may have missed a handful."

"What do they say?"

"Nothing too incriminating. 'Hope you had a wonderful day,' or 'Looking forward to our upcoming meeting.' I didn't memorize 'em, but that's close."

"I'm sick of this," I said, raising my voice.

"Easy there," Fran said calmly. "I've got a plan to nip this in the bud."

"How?"

"Give the mighty O'Keefe a taste of her own medicine. Hope she chokes on it."

"What are you going to do?"

"Embarra.s.s her at a public function, but can't say more."

"Is your plan legal?"

"Last I checked. Elementary exercise in free speech," Fran said, chuckling.

Before I could badger Fran for details, Ca.s.s and Flax returned. Ca.s.s p.r.o.nounced Flax a natural at dowsing, which made him grin ear to ear.

As they settled in for the night, I kept trying to catch Fran's attention, but she pointedly ignored me, and soon I heard the distinct rattle of her snores.

d.a.m.n it!

Not long after Ca.s.s's breathing deepened, I felt a tug on my sleeping bag. "This is boring."

"Leave me alone. I'm sleeping."

"No, you're not," Flax whispered. "You're talking to me."

"I was," I hissed.

"No, you weren't. I saw you blink. Want to go explore my hideout."

"Not really," I said, beyond politeness.

"It's in the bas.e.m.e.nt. I made it into a dungeon."

I propped myself on one elbow and faced him. "How do you get in? Did Grandma Nell or Grandma Hazel give you a key?"

"Nope. I found a secret pa.s.sage last summer."

"Through the outside cellar door?"

He shook his head. "Through Grandma Hazel's pantry."

I squinted at him in disbelief. "You come into the bas.e.m.e.nt of this house through the bas.e.m.e.nt of the carriage house?"

"Don't tell anyone."

"No one else knows?"

"Unh uh. Not even my dad. I asked him if he'd ever been in the carriage house bas.e.m.e.nt, and he said there was no bas.e.m.e.nt. But I found it.

"How?"

"One day, when I was at Grandma Hazel's, I dropped a jar of peaches. I didn't want her to know, or she would have taken it out of my step-and-fetch money. She does that when I break things. I had to move a shelf to wipe up the juice, and I found a door behind it."

"You opened it?"

"Not then," he said, animated. "I waited until Grandma Hazel's nap, when she takes out her hearing aids. I know she's almost totally deaf, because I like to sneak up and clap, and she never moves. When I whistle-"

"Enough," I said hurriedly. "Where did the door lead?"

"To some stairs and down into the bas.e.m.e.nt. Then-this is the best part-to a tunnel!"

"You went through the tunnel? By yourself?"

"Sure, it was cool. Just like in my computer games."

"The tunnel led to the bas.e.m.e.nt of this house?"

"Yep."

"You're sure?"

"Yes," he said stretching the word into three syllables. "I've been in this bas.e.m.e.nt lots of times. My dad used to have a workshop here. He made furniture, and he'd let me build things out of the sc.r.a.ps, like swords."