Chapter Five

“Are they real?” I asked as I gazed at the array of cut diamonds, sapphires, emeralds and a very large ruby, that now lay clustered in Garrett’s open palm. The stones were mesmerizing, their beauty not at all diminished despite being buried in the dirt for so long.

“If not, they’re excellent fakes.”

“So, they could be paste? It’s hard to tell the difference. I’m not sure I could.”

“Me neither. At least, not without knowing what I’m looking for, but an expert can easily determine their authenticity and there’s a world of difference in price.”

“If they’re fake, they could be bought online or at any craft store. But if they’re not…” I reached for one but Garrett moved his palm, leaving my fingers pinching the air.

“If they’re not, I can’t begin to imagine how much these are worth.” Garrett wrapped the jewels in the cloth and slipped the package into a plastic baggie that he tucked back into his pocket. “I’ll need to get them appraised.”

“We had a jeweler client a few months back. I could ask if they would do it, or if they know someone who will.”

“Thanks. I’ll need to check with the department first in case we have an approved expert, but I might take you up on that.”

“I can’t believe you showed me the jewels, and not the driver’s license.”

“I think I showed you out of sheer surprise, although I’m not sure why anything you say surprises me. I must have had a senior moment.”

“Lieutenant?” At the fence line, the ME was halfway into her white suit and pulling the upper half over her shoulders. Lights had been set up in the yard and her deputy was assembling a canopy over the body. “Would you like to join us?” she asked.

“Gotta go,” said Garrett, abruptly turning on his heel.

“But…” I started to protest, but he was already gone, leaving me hovering by myself with the uniformed officer eyeing me uncertainly. I waited a moment, watching the ME and her colleagues zip closed the canopy sides, completely removing the burial site from view. That had to be a good thing because along with the arrival of Garrett and the ME came several bystanders and the steady hub of low, excited, chatter was growing. With every passing minute, news was spreading and it was only a matter of time before the mawkish masses showed up to gawk.

I moved around a couple of neighbors who lived down the street and headed for Solomon and my mom. “Where are the Dugans?” I asked.

“One of the officers took them inside to pack a bag. They’ve decided to get a hotel for the night,” said Solomon.

“I said they could stay with me and your father but they were adamant they didn’t want to put us out,” said Mom.

“Sensible on all counts,” I said, imagining how my mother’s interrogation would go once she had the Dugans in her home. I could already imagine the Dugans’ shell-shocked faces tomorrow morning. “What did they have to say about Garrett’s questions?”

“Nothing unexpected came up. He asked them about their home ownership, the renovations, who had access to the site, who were the previous owners. Where did they previously live, where did they grow up. Everything we would ask.”

“He’s a very good detective,” said Mom, looking pleased.

“What about you?” asked Solomon, addressing me.

“Lexi tries her best and we’re very proud of her too,” said Mom.

“Thanks, Mom.” I restrained the sigh threatening to leak out.

“Lexi is an excellent investigator but I actually meant what had she found out from Garrett,” said Solomon.

“Oh,” said Mom. “ Oh . Of course. What did you find out, darling?” She patted me on the arm and I jumped.

“Garrett found a few things on the body that could help with the identification. He wouldn’t show me everything,” I said, skirting around the big reveal as I tried to brush off her hand. That would be something I told Solomon later when my mother wasn’t hovering and ready to tell the entire neighborhood, no matter what she said.

“Figures,” said Solomon.

“It’s so nice of your brother to help you out,” said Mom. “He always was a good boy. So smart. No wonder he’s made such a career for himself.”

I ignored that. “So what do we do now?” I wondered.

“I’ve left our cards with the Dugans and suggested they call us tomorrow if they want to, after they’ve thought things over. For now, I think we should go home and resume our evening plans,” said Solomon.

“You don’t want to stay and watch the body being exhumed?” asked Mom. “I only saw part of the skeleton. I wonder how long it’ll take to dig out the rest? Or do you think they dig it out with tiny spades and brush it off with toothbrushes like they do on archeology shows? I wonder if the adult education center runs an archeology course? I almost finished making my basket.”

“We can only see the tent,” pointed out Solomon. Two men brushed past us, craning their heads to see. “Plus, it’s drawn attention.”

“Such busybodies,” said Mom, without irony as she continued to stare. “Rubbernecking like that isn’t a real-life tragedy in there.”

Solomon raised his eyebrows just barely and I held back a smile. “We’ll walk down the street with you, Mom,” I said.

“No need. I’m staying. The Dugans need to know they have a friend,” she said, folding her arms and planting her feet like we were about to tackle and carry her off the field.

“Okay,” I said, and turned to leave with Solomon.

“Wait! You’re really going?” Mom’s face fell.

“We are. There’s nothing we can do and we haven’t been officially hired. For that matter, we haven’t even accepted the case. So we’re going home. We have stuff to do.”

“Oh. Oh !” Mom’s wink was exaggerated and I wasn’t dignifying that with any further comment. Instead, I took Solomon’s hand and headed down the street to the car.

“Do I want to know why your mother winked at you like she was having a stroke and couldn’t control her features anymore?” Solomon asked as we got into the car.

“You do not.”

“I thought not. It’s kind of a turnoff.”

“You said you didn’t want to know! See what happens when you think about it!” I threw my hands in the air, exasperated. So much for baby-making if one half of the team was in a timeout thanks to my mom.

“I’ll be in the mood by the time we get home.” Solomon smiled.

“How?” I wasn’t sure I’d be in the mood again this decade.

“I’m a man.”

“Then drive and prove it.”

“Prove I’m a man?” Solomon glanced at me, as if he wanted to know if I genuinely expected him to do such a thing. I didn’t. I knew he was a man. He’d proved it sufficiently. As for the promised enthusiasm? I was eager to see that evidenced.

“Don’t be pedantic,” I said and pointed ahead, away from the flashing police lights, the corpse, and most importantly, my mom. “Let’s go!”

~

I yawned a near jaw-disengaging yawn and reached for the coffee Delgado had plonked on my desk only moments ago. “Late night?” he asked, eyeing me warily.

“Something like that,” I said, and yawned again before I could even put the mug to my lips. After an enthusiastic evening where Solomon had definitely been the man, I’d subsequently had a poor sleep, amid constant thoughts of corpses and jewels whirring in my mind. Then there was the boy staring into the camera. Who was he?

I’d given up on sleep around five AM and lay there, wishing for the day to start, which just went to show how out of sorts I felt.

“Cranky?” asked Delgado.

“Nope, just tired.”

Now it was almost nine, and Solomon had been called out only minutes after arriving at the agency, leaving me alone with Delgado, and an assortment of tasks to research.

Behind me, the door crashed open and I glanced over my shoulder to see my fellow PIs, Steve Fletcher and Matt Flaherty, walk in, carrying brown paper bags that emitted a tantalizing scent.

“Why do you both look so pleased?” I asked.

“We got bacon sandwiches to go,” said Fletcher.

“And the counter girl flirted with me,” said Flaherty.

“She asked if you wanted sugar for your coffee.”

“She said I was sweet already.” Flaherty’s smugness increased.

“She gave you the check,” said Fletcher.

“She did it flirtatiously ,” said Flaherty. “She looked me dead in the eye as she slid it towards me. I’ve still got it.” He flexed his biceps.

“The receipt?” I asked.

“No. It .” He pumped his arms again.

“Where’s the boss?” asked Fletcher.

“Called out,” I told them as they dropped into the seats at their cluttered desks and began unwrapping their rolls.

Delgado followed with, “Are you off the warehouse surveillance case?”

“As of today. The youths causing all the trouble got arrested and the warehouse is officially open for business. They’ve got a clean-up crew in there today making it right before they move their people in next week. Plus, they hired a team from us for 24-hour security until they get their own guys hired. We’re helping them vet the applicants,” explained Flaherty. He stretched out his leg, rubbed his hip and grunted.

“Pain?” I asked.

“Both of us,” said Flaherty, thumbing in his partner’s direction. “It’s all that sitting in the car, not moving beyond reaching for snacks or binoculars. We’re a pair of stiff, old dudes.”

“Didn’t stop you bigging up your duty wounds to the waitress,” said Fletcher with a snort. “I thought you were going to pull out a medal.”

“I’m saving that for next time,” said Flaherty. “Can’t wow her with all my stuff in one go.”

Since both men had been injured in the call of duty — Fletcher taking bullets in his CIA days while busting a drug cartel, Flaherty in his former life as a police detective — I saw no reason for them not to be proud of their service. Plus, I’d noticed both had been moving sorely over the past weeks, and since Fletcher had been even more stony-faced than usual, it was nice to see them joking around.

“Did you hear about that body found last night in West Montgomery?” asked Flaherty. “Some guy got a fright digging up a body in his yard.”

“It happened on my parents’ street,” I said. “Solomon and I talked to the homeowners.”

“Your mom called Serena late last night and now she wants your parents to move to our neighborhood,” said Delgado. “I’m not against that per se but it seems an overreaction. She’s already sent your parents several listings in the area.”

“Don’t tell her about granny suites,” I said and Delgado paled.

“Did we get hired?” asked Fletcher. “I gotta admit, I’d like to take a crack at a case like that. It’s like those cold cases on TV or that new-fangled radio thing everyone keeps talking about.”

“Radio thing?”

“Podblasts.”

“Podcasts?” I asked.

“That’s right. Some journalist or snoopy citizen goes investigating a cold case no one can remember and unveils the story. There’s some wild stuff and they make crazy money. We should do one.”

“I’m not sure anyone would listen to two guys like us talking about cracking cases,” said Flaherty.

“Who said anything about it being you and me? I was thinking me and Lexi,” said Fletcher.

Flaherty stopped chewing. “Why Lexi?”

“She brings in the sexy. She brings in the pep. People want to listen to that,” said Fletcher with a shrug.

“It’s true,” I said. “I do bring the sexy.”

“She brings in the crazy,” said Flaherty.

Delgado snorted and turned back to his laptop. I wasn’t sure which bit he was responding to and if I wanted to know.

“Did you not see the way the counter girl looked at me?” asked Flaherty.

“She wanted a big tip,” said Fletcher. “What’dya say, Lexi? You want to collaborate on a cold case podblast-thing and then tell the public all about it for money?”

I was saved from answering that by answering the desk phone, and cut from their view as Delgado got up and walked past.

“It’s Jim,” said the doorman, as if I wouldn’t know. He’d worked in the building for years and I was half convinced he lived here too. “I’ve got a Mr. and Dr. Dugan here asking to speak with you. They say they don’t have an appointment but that you know them.”

“I do,” I said. “Send them up to the interview rooms and I’ll meet them there.”

“You got it,” said Jim and hung up.

“The owners of that dead body just walked in,” I told them as I stood.

Fletcher got to his feet and punched the air. “We’re in business.”

“Who said you’re invited?” I asked.

Fletcher pretended to be shocked, then hurt, as he turned to Flaherty then Delgado, who was standing in the boardroom doorway, his arms crossed, watching us all with amusement. “Do you remember when she was new and eager to prove herself and barely said boo to a goose? Now look at her. Practically telling me to sit down,” he said.

“Sit down. You’re in pain,” said Flaherty.

“True,” said Fletcher as he sat with a wince. “I think I need a massage or physiotherapy.”

“Or a new body,” said Flaherty.

“That too.”

I left the three men together and jogged down the stairs, arriving as the elevator doors opened and the Dugans stepped out. Both looked tired but they’d taken effort with their appearance. Pete was clean-shaven and his striped t-shirt and jeans were pressed. Carrie wore a floral summer dress, minimal makeup, and her dark blond hair was tied in a loose bun. For the first time, I noticed the rounded bump of her abdomen.

“Thanks for seeing us. I wasn’t sure if you would as we weren’t exactly at our best last night,” said Carrie.

“You’d had a shock. I wouldn’t expect you to be at your best, Dr. Dugan, but you were nothing but polite,” I said. “Come through and you can tell me more about any developments.” I led them to the nearest interview room, a small room with little more than a table, chairs and a console, which held stationery and paperwork.

“Oh, Carrie, please. We’re really not ones for formalities,” said Carrie, continuing, as she dropped into a chair. “Your mom was so kind to stay with us until we could leave. She really was insistent that we stay at her house overnight but we decided on a hotel. We thought we needed space to really decompress and talk.”

“Sensible choice,” I said. “Have you been back to the house yet?”

“No,” said Pete. He took the seat next to his wife and sat, folding his arms, his discomfort evident. “We called Lieutenant Graves this morning and he said they took the body away last night but the police needed more time in the yard for their investigations. I guess they want to check to see if anything else was buried with the body.”

“Or if there are any more bodies,” said Carrie, pulling a face.

“Do you think that’s a possibility?” I asked.

“I don’t know what to think! If you asked me this time yesterday if I thought there was any body at all, I would have laughed in your face and said there was nothing but weeds in the yard.”

“What if there are more bodies?” asked Pete.

“Let’s find out before we make any decisions,” I said. There was no point worrying the Dugans further, although I knew they would no matter what I said, until there was conclusive evidence as to what happened.

“I keep having the horrible thought that we bought a serial killer’s burial ground,” said Carrie.

“You’d think the price would have been reduced,” said Pete, his joke falling flat as Carrie grimaced.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the case,” I said. “I grew up down the street and I think someone would have noticed.” Even as I said it, I struggled with the conviction. Plenty of serial killers lived in plain sight for years until they were caught. Their neighbors usually spoke of them as friendly, helpful people. Their victims couldn’t speak at all.

“Plenty of other cases didn’t get noticed,” Carrie persisted, echoing the thoughts I’d thought wise to keep to myself. “Look at all the times a serial killer got caught and all the neighbors said he was such a nice guy. People don’t notice everything. We’re all too busy with our own lives.”

“I can make some calls and find out if there was any sign of strange behavior over the years,” I said, hoping to reassure her. “I know it’s hard but there’s no point worrying about this. You can’t control it. It’s out of your hands. If anything worse comes up, we can deal with it then.”

The Dugans exchanged a look and I thought both of their faces softened. “So you’ll take the case?” asked Pete.

“It depends on what you’d like me to do,” I countered. “What do you think we can do to assist beyond what the Montgomery Police Department is already doing?”

“I’m not sure I trust the police entirely… oh, I don’t mean it exactly like that. It’s just, I want to know someone believes us, right from the start. I’d like to know who the body is… was … and how it came to be in our yard,” said Pete.

“And I’d like someone to work hard to prove it wasn’t us,” said Carrie. “I’ve heard about people being railroaded by the police. I’m not saying that’s what will happen here, but I want to be sure we take all the precautions.”

“If I take this case, I can’t make any guarantees about what I’ll find,” I warned them, “but I think we can prove you have nothing to do with it. I can liaise with the police alongside, making my own inquiries to find out who the body once was and how it came to be in your yard. How do you feel about not liking the answers?”

“Fine by me since it’s not personal,” said Pete. “Any answers are better than none and I can’t help wondering if the police will drop this on their cold case file as soon as any leads dry up. Then we’ll always be known as the dead body house.”

“It feels personal to have a body in our yard,” said Carrie.

“It pre-dates us buying the house,” her husband countered. “So it’s not personal personal. There’s no way this body is connected to either of us. I’d like our neighbors to know we had nothing to do with it. It’s bad enough what our house will be known as without our names attached to it with suspicion.”

“Let me get you the paperwork,” I said, standing so I could reach over to the console where the paperwork was stashed in trays. I grabbed a pen and slid it across the table with the form. “If you can fill this in, and pay our retainer, we can get started.”

“Is this going to be expensive?” asked Carrie. She glanced at her husband. I was sure this expense hadn’t factored into their reno costs either.

“All cases have the potential to be,” I said, since I wanted to be as honest as possible, “but we can assign limitations. The retainer will ensure I can make all the preliminary inquiries. Once I have that, we can meet again and go from there. If we’re lucky, the police will be able to make a positive identification quickly and share their information, making the process quicker to rule you out. If there aren’t any pertinent leads, I’ll inform you and you can decide whether to continue or stop.”

The Dugans exchanged another glance.

“Is there anything else you’d like to know?” I asked.

“Well…” Carrie paused, and glanced at her husband. A small flash of guilt seemed to pass across her face. Then she took a deep breath. “Lieutenant Graves said something valuable was found with the body.”

“I’m aware of that,” I said.

“He showed us the jewels,” said Pete, leaning in now, his eyes widening. “Just to confirm they weren’t ours and that we didn’t recognize them. Obviously, they’re not, and I’m sure he knew that, but…”

“Could they be?” Carrie continued, leaning forwards, then seeming to correct her eagerness. “They were found on our property and Pete did find the body so does that make them ours? If no one else claims them?”

“Ahh,” I said, leaning back in my chair to consider that. “I don’t know what the laws are in regard to finding items like that so I’ll look into it. I’m sure Lieutenant Graves told you they need to be authenticated. They might not be worth anything.”

“It was just a thought,” said Pete. “We don’t think they’ll be rightly ours but I figured we should check what with the discovery being on our property and all.” His shrug was so carefully indifferent, I was sure he was more interested than he was trying to let on.

“I’ll keep you updated,” I said, standing as soon as Carrie finished writing out the paperwork, and passing it to her husband to co-sign. Then Pete handed me a check.

“Hardly ever use these things anymore,” he said, flapping the checkbook. “I’m not sure I even know how to balance it. Everything is tap here, bank transfer there.”

“I’ll see you out,” I said, “and call you as soon as I have any information.”

“Thanks, we appreciate it.”

“Are you staying at the hotel tonight too?” I asked as I walked them to the elevator.

“We thought it prudent to book another night,” said Carrie. “You can call us on our cellphones anytime. I don’t have mine on me at the hospital but you can leave a message or call Pete.”

I agreed I would and once the doors had closed behind them and the elevator was descending, I headed back up to the PI’s office.

“Where is everyone?” I asked Delgado when I found the office empty except for us. Delgado stood at the coffee machine, flicking a packet of sugar while he waited for the fresh pot to heat.

“They got called out to a case,” he said. “Something new. How was your interview?”

“Good, the Dugans want us on the case. At first, I wasn’t sure why they wanted our help when they could just wait for the police but then I figured they were nervous about getting accused of a crime.”

“Do you think they did it?”

“No, it’s unlikely, but people do like peace of mind and having their innocence proved unequivocally to themselves and everyone else.”

Delgado narrowed his eyes. “But now you think it’s something else?” he asked, shrewdly. “You don’t think they want to simply clear their names?”

“I think they definitely want that but I think it mostly has something to do with the jewels found on the corpse,” I said, filling him in on the scant details. “If they’re real, they could be worth thousands. Maybe even more. I think the Dugans think they might have accidentally dug up a terrific payday.”

“So the corpse is now the least of their worries?”

I thought about Pete’s pretense at indifference, about Carrie’s bright eyes as she casually tossed out the question. “I think its significance paled once they were shown the jewels.”

“I’m not sure whether to admire their forward thinking or be grossed out by their avariciousness.”

“Same here,” I said, as I reached for my phone. “But I’d also like to know the answer to their questions.”