Family Jewels (Dix Dodd Mystery #2)

accidents occur all the time — probably account for at least five percent of all hospital visits. Amazing more people didn’t do the knee bump thing. These damn tables should come with a warning sign. Yep. Waiting for knee to move back. Any second now.

It didn’t.

Oh.

Okay.

“Eddie, I think I can take it from here.”

Big Eddie looked like a broken-hearted puppy. “You sure, Deputy?”

“I’m sure, Eddie. I can handle Ms. Dodd.”

Oh, man! What had happened to the air-conditioning?

Big Eddie Baskin glanced at his watch. “Well, I’d better get going anyway. You call me if you find anything out, okay?”

Almond gave him a firm nod. “Will do.”

Big Eddie smoothed a hand over the back of his neck as if he’d just worked a double shift at the factory and his muscles were sore. His necklace — chains and charms and all — jingled against his skin.

Deputy Almond watched him go and didn’t say a word until the door had swung completely shut behind Big Eddie’s retreating form. Then he turned to me, “Okay, Dix Dodd. Where’s the missing ring?”

Okay, I moved my knee away.

“Whoa, Deputy, I just got in town, remember? You think I stole that ring? Is that the way law and order works down here? Can’t solve a simple crime so you lay it on the first newcomer to wander in? What are you going to try to pin on me next? The Kennedy assassination? Maybe I’m the one who killed the Black Dahlia? Mind you, I’m a little too young to have committed those crimes, but what the hell. Are you so damned incompetent that—”

He smiled.

Crap.

“No, I don’t think you stole Harriet Appleton’s ring. Never thought it for a moment. What I think is that you’ve watched everyone in this room for the last few hours, just as I did. Maybe better than I did. You’re a trained PI, and from what I hear from my Ontario contacts, a pretty good one.”

Ontario contacts? I wanted names, numbers and a great big pack of thank you notes.

“Why the hell do you think I left you out here so long?”

“Whoops. My bad.”

Leaning back easily in his chair, he ran a hand along his lightly whiskered chin.

I bit down on the half grin (mine, not his, more’s the pity) that threatened to break through. Hell, if Deputy Noel Almond got any more relaxed, he’d be undoing his belt buckle.

I bit down harder. God, Dix, get a grip. This is the same unsmiling man who just finished grilling your mother. The man who thinks she had something to do with the disappearing jewels, if not the disappearing Frankie.

“How much did you lose to Mona Roberts in crib?”

“Six bucks.”

“She let you off easy.”

“You know her?”

“I know everyone here. And maybe that’s part of the problem. Why I’ve not solved these thefts or the matter of the missing Frankie Morell. I’m too close maybe, and that’s why I need your take on things.”

Damn, felt good to be appreciated. As did the idea that he might be keeping somewhat of an open mind about whodunnit. “Well, here’s what I think—”

He stood. “Nope, not now. I have to get some paperwork done, head back to the Appleton apartment one last time, stop by to see Big Eddie, then get to my office to type up these notes.” He waved a handful of sheets of yellow legal paper in my direction as if proving the point. “We’ll talk tomorrow — give you time to mull things over, sort out your own thoughts.”

That was weird. “You want me to come by your office?”

“No, I’ll stop by here. Say about seven. In the evening. And it would be best if we didn’t talk here. Wouldn’t want to make the residents suspicious. Wouldn’t want to blow your cover. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go out to dinner somewhere.”

Okay, if this was a date, it was setting up to be the strangest date I’d ever been on. But was it a date? Or was it an interrogation? Shit!

“Okay, then,” I said. “I’ll be ready at seven.”

“Great, it’s a date.” He stood.

Did he mean date date? Or did he mean business date? Did I want it to be a date date?

Of course, if it were, if the attraction was mutual, surely I could use that to my advantage, or rather to Mother’s advantage.

“Looking forward to tomorrow night,” he said.

I smiled. I’d be cool, but not coy. Smart, but not sassy smart. Confident. Poised. “I’m looking forward to it to, Deputy Allman. Almond. Deputy Almond.”

Jesus Christ! I’m an idiot.

My face burned, and Almond grinned from ear to ear.

“Just call me Noel,” he offered, setting a warm hand on my shoulder. “That’s probably easiest.”

Noel. That I could handle.

With a grin, he turned and walked away. I watched him — every rippling muscle in his wonderful physique.

Yep, that I could handle.

Chapter 5

Mother tried. She really did. And I knew it was for my sake as well as Mrs. Presley’s that she kept the smile on her face. Chin up; shoulders back. That was Katt Dodd. I’d seen that smile when Dad was so sick all those years ago.

That wasn’t the smile I wanted on my mother’s face.

But when Mrs. P suggested we all go out for dinner, an invitation that under normal circumstances Mother would never decline, she put on her bravest face … and declined.

“Don’t put yourself out cooking, Katt,” Mrs. P had said. “Let’s get supper out on the town. Dix’s treat.”

“Oh, Jane, please let me cook something special. I just love to cook. We’ll go out tomorrow night.”

“Okay, but how about we head out to bingo afterward, Katt? Dix would love to drive us.”

“You know, Jane, I love bingo … but just not tonight.”

As she nudged my mother with one fun-filled suggestion after another, I could see what she was trying to do. Could see how she was trying to cheer my mother up. She didn’t really give a rat’s ass about going out this evening. Yes, she loved bingo (and she’d brought along a six pack of dabbers and three multi-colored hair bingo trolls to prove it). And yes, she did remind me of my promise — a.k.a. bribe — to take her to bingo before we left