Sitting on a Fortune Read online

  Neither woman claimed to be the voice of logic. Not always.

  The elderly gentleman might not be missing, they reasoned. He may have gone somewhere with a friend or the elusive daughter/niece he often spoke of. In all truth, Genny didn’t know much about the man’s personal life. She wasn’t privy to his schedule or his social calendar; he didn’t owe her an explanation for missing his usual Monday lunch at New Beginnings.

  Besides, nothing in the house suggested a struggle. His neighbors hadn’t seen anything suspicious. Except for the fact he hadn’t visited his favorite restaurant in two days, nothing was amiss. Brash would immediately call attention to that fact. He or his deputies would conduct the customary welfare check, but unless they had reason to suspect foul play, there wasn’t much they could or would do.

  Did the women want to burden the police department with the matter? Wouldn’t it be best if Madison did a preliminary investigation herself? Save the taxpayers’ money on something that could have a perfectly good explanation?

  Most importantly, Madison reasoned as Genny dropped her off at her car, if she accepted her friend as a client, she would feel less guilty about keeping even more secrets from Brash. She could cite client confidentiality, if only to her own conscience.

  Madison wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but she knew her only lead in Mr. Pruett’s whereabouts was Lamont Andrews. Despite her vow to never again darken his door, here she stood. About to step inside the patchouli-tainted air.

  Madison gathered a deep breath and opened the door. She saw Lamont at the back counter, talking to a customer. It was a young man, probably not yet out of his teens, and he was shopping for a necklace for his girlfriend. Madison stood back and waited her turn.

  When Lamont noticed her standing there several minutes later, a distinct chill moved into the air. He shot her an unwelcoming glare, and his nostrils flared with silent hostility, but he said nothing while servicing the customer.

  The moment the young man left, that changed. Lamont crossed muscular arms over his chest and spat, “What brings you back? I told you to stop harassing me.”

  Biting back a retort, Madison reminded herself to relax. She would never get any information by being confrontational. She even attempted a half-smile. “I’m not sure where we got off track, but I never intended to harass you, Mr. Andrews.”

  Could he make the same claim?

  With a smirk, the proprietor replied, “It may have been when you came in here, accusing me of doing something to the mutt. Or maybe it was when you came to my house. Or when you plowed me over outside in the parking lot. What were you doing that day? Spying on me again?”

  “Not at all. I was working for Marvin Combs.”

  “You work next door now?” He clearly hadn’t expected that answer.

  “Not exactly. He hired me for a temporary position, but I’m done now. You may remember, I own In a Pinch Professional Services.” Madison made a motion with her hands. “Honestly, when I saw you in the parking lot, I wasn’t following you.”

  She couldn’t tell if he believed her or not. “What do you want this time?” he asked, but his voice was slightly less demanding. His arms relaxed a bit.

  “I have a new client who’s trying to find a friend. I understand you may be able to help with that.”

  “Oh, so you want my help,” he smirked. His arms tightened again in a defensive stance. “That’s what this is all about.”

  “The life and safety of an elderly gentleman may be at stake. Any help you can offer would be greatly appreciated.”

  His chin came forward. “Who’s the old man?”

  “Tom Pruett.”

  Something flashed in Lamont’s eyes, but his facial expression could have been carved from stone. “What makes you think I even know him, much less know whether or not something happened to him?”

  “Mr. Pruett often referred to you as his business associate.”

  At this, Lamont hooted. “I buy one or two pieces from him, and suddenly we’re business associates? The old man ain’t right in the head. Everybody knows that.” Dropping his arms, Lamont moved away from the counter with exaggerated ease. His lax posture suggested the conversation was too laughable to take seriously.

  “But you have had some business dealings with him, is that right?” Madison pushed.

  “Very few.”

  “That was last week, correct?” Madison knew he wouldn’t offer any direct details, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t still fish.

  “I haven’t seen the old coot in a week or two.”

  And yet, you were at his house two days ago. What else are you hiding? She wondered.

  “I know Mr. Pruett dabbled in jewels and precious stones.” Madison amazed herself by sounding so convincing. She knew no such thing. “Were those part of your business transactions? Is that where you got the fancy dog collar?”

  The businessman snorted. “Believe me, the old cat didn’t have anything that classy,” Lamont drawled. “The necklace he tried selling me was costume jewelry. A child’s dress-up toy, next to that collar.”

  She had a nibble! Heart thumping crazily in her chest, Madison attempted a casual grin and reeled him in. “That tacky gold piece with the supposed diamonds and rubies, huh?”

  “The gems looked real enough, but it was the setting that gave it away. It looked like someone melted a glob of gold and stuck a few gems on it, hoping to turn a sow ear into a silk purse.” He shook his head in stupefaction.

  Keep cool, Madison reminded herself. Tilt your head and look perplexed. Sound surprised when you ask, “When was this? I thought he sold that necklace months ago.”

  “It was awhile back,” Lamont agreed. “I don’t know who was fool enough to buy it, but it wasn’t a reputable dealer, I can tell you that.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “It only took one look to know it was either a complete fake or a stolen piece that had been modified—badly, at that—to avoid detection. Most likely a case of insurance fraud. No reputable dealer wants to get tangled up with that.”

  Madison truly was perplexed now. She hadn’t taken Lamont Andrews for a particularly reputable businessman; she assumed he valued profits over ethics. Had she pegged him wrong? Or was this all a cover? An act he had perfected for law enforcement? And their wives.

  “Do you have any idea where he got the necklace from?” she asked.

  Lamont Andrews didn’t realize he was helping the woman he had sworn to forswear. He was busy mocking his troubled ‘business associate.’

  “Depends on which day it was. The first time, he told me it had ‘ties with a top-secret government controversy.’ Another time, it was a family heirloom passed down to the next generation from a jeweler’s personal collection. One day, he mumbled something about discovering it in a chair cushion. I could never get a straight answer out of the cat, but there’s nothing unusual about that. He tells one wild story after the next.”

  On that, Madison had to agree. “He does have a good imagination, doesn’t he?”

  “The old cat’s crazy.”

  “What about his other collections? Were they any better?”

  “I wouldn’t know. He was all talk, no show.”

  Madison decided to press her luck. “Is that why you were at his house Sunday? To see his other collections?”

  His obsidian eyes filled with suspicion. “Why do you think I was at his house? What are you accusing me of now?”

  “Nothing!” she was quick to assure him. “Neighbors remembered seeing you stop by his house. Other than a woman no one could identify, they didn’t recall him having any other visitors that day. Or any day, for that matter.”

  “So? I went by his house a time or two. Doesn’t make us buddies. I don’t keep up with his comings and goings. And before you ask, he wasn’t home Sunday. I knocked on his door, but he didn’t answer.”

  Sensing she would get nothing further from him, Madison sighed and handed him a card. “Here’s my number. Please, i
f you see him, would you please call me? Mr. Pruett hasn’t been seen or heard from in several days. My client is worried.”

  “I’d say good riddance,” Lamont muttered, all but snatching the card from her hand.

  As Madison thanked him for his time and left, she realized he had made no promises.

  Twenty-Four

  “I hope this works.” Madison’s voice sounded doubtful.

  “Trust me. It will.”

  It was the next day, and Genny still hadn’t heard from her most faithful customer. Pulling up in front of his house, she put the car in park and killed the engine. She turned to her friend and flashed her dimples. “Show time.”

  With two takeout boxes in hand, Genny made her way to Tom Pruett’s front door. When there was no answer, she turned to retrace her steps, only to ‘accidentally’ drop her load. Cookies and assorted pastries scattered on the ground.

  No one watching could possibly know the delicacies were stale and not suitable for consumption. While Genny stood in dismayed frustration, staring down at the mess and the ‘ruined’ food, Madison jumped from the car and came to her friend’s rescue. She carried the large black trash bag casually, as if it didn’t hold a short, lightweight aluminum stepladder. Together, the women stooped to pick up the mess and sweep it into the bag.

  Madison disappeared around the side of the house, presumably to find a trash can. Genny returned to the car and made a show of taking more boxes from its interior. She turned to count the houses along the street, her arm extended and her finger dancing. She then made a show of counting boxes. Pretending a discrepancy, she repeated her actions.

  For good measure, Genny started down the sidewalk with a wobbling tower of boxes in her arms, appeared to think better of it, and returned to her car. She loaded up with a more reasonable amount and started back on her way.

  By that time, any nosy neighbors watching her escapades were all but salivating, wondering what the renowned baker was doing with so many cookie boxes. Who was the lucky recipient? No one gave another thought to her friend.

  As Genny knocked at every house along the street and made a surprise delivery to anyone answering, Madison took her ladder to the back of the house, climbed through the window, and paid Tom Pruett’s empty house another visit.

  They decided that if the elderly gentleman hadn’t surfaced by tomorrow, they would alert Brash. Before the police made their official welfare check, however, Madison wanted one more peek inside. The police’s presence would only muddy the waters, stirring up her deeper suspicions that what she did technically fell under the ‘breaking and entering’ clause.

  If only in her own mind, she rationalized that today’s excursion was a friendly visit to a friend. Okay, so she knew he wasn’t home, and she crawled in by way of an open window. Wearing plastic gloves, but, so what? She hadn’t broken a thing while entering. And she wasn’t tampering with evidence, because the police weren’t involved, and it wasn’t a case.

  No case, no evidence.

  The rationale worked for her.

  Madison started in the master bedroom, doing a more thorough search for hints about the man who lived there. She snapped pictures of the prescription drugs she found, few of their names familiar to her. She looked for an address book or phone directory. Carefully sorted through drawers and neatly organized shelves, hoping for photo albums or scrapbooks. Anything that hinted at a family or close friends. The best she found was an emergency call list with the names of his physicians, a few photos of whom she assumed was his late wife, and a single album containing pictures from his career.

  Genny texted several times, updating her progress with the cookie delivery. The coast was still clear. No one mentioned seeing her accomplice and no one paid attention to the house at the far end of the street. She’d warn her if an issue arose.

  In route to take a second look through Mr. Pruett’s kitchen, Madison paused in the living room. The room held a formal seldom-used sofa, one well-worn recliner, a large flat-screen television, and little else. If the red velvet chair had sat in this room, it had been the only splash of color. Perhaps the color had been too lively for the older man and a contributing factor to its removal, Madison mused. On a whim, she turned on his television to see the last channel viewed.

  She wasn’t surprised to see he was a fan of Mysterious Past, a cable program that highlighted unsolved mysteries, curious happenings, and past conspiracies. She hit the ‘recall’ button, bringing up a thumbnail review of the six previous channel changes. Again, no surprise to see his favorites were a cable news channel, the History Channel, and two channels known for their documentaries and focus on historical myths and mysteries.

  Madison didn’t find a phone book, but she did find a date book from the previous year. She snapped pictures of several pages, but she held little hope of gaining insight from the calendar; most of the scribbled handwriting was written in code. A magnetic dry-erase calendar clung to the refrigerator but offered little information. Some of the dates were circled, some starred, some marked with a diamond icon, but few had words written within their squares. Other than ‘buy groceries,’ ‘pay bills,’ ‘trash day,’ and ‘dentist,’ she had few clues about his plans for the month.

  One drawer revealed three takeout menus from New Beginnings, one from Montelongo’s, an old calendar with handy tips on car service from Rudy’s Tires, and a local shopping guide put out by the Chamber of Commerce each January. Madison snapped a picture of the guide, thinking she might check with the businesses he had circled. He may have mentioned plans to go out of town to one of them.

  She saved the hidden room for last. She took photos of almost everything but didn’t go so far as to search his computer. When Genny texted to say she was almost done, Madison went out the way she had come, donated the ladder to the homeowner, and waited until Genny was back to the car before joining her.

  “You walked slow enough,” Genny grumbled. “What if someone saw you?”

  “Are you kidding? I’m sure everyone is happily munching on their cookies about now. In fact, I may be insulted. What does that say for me, if I can be overlooked so easily in favor of a box of cookies?”

  “It worked, though, now didn’t it?” Genny’s previous frown turned into a smug smile as she pulled away from the curb.

  “Like a charm.”

  “So? Did you find anything?”

  “Nothing of significance. I didn’t even find a cell phone.”

  “Which could be a good sign,” Genny pointed out. “If he has his cell phone, he must have left willingly.”

  “And police could possibly track it, assuming it is charged and has a signal.”

  “Did you search his computer? If you sent the files to your email, I can help you go through them.”

  “I didn’t. And don’t look at me like that. I didn’t want to leave an electronic trail. Nothing that pointed to us being in that house. But I took a ton of pictures with my phone. I tried to capture all his notes, screenshots of the open windows on both monitors, the file names in his filing cabinets, anything I could see. I also took photos of his doctors’ names and the medications he’s on. Maybe something will give us an insight into his whereabouts.”

  “Hmm. I never thought of the medical aspect. I know he didn’t call an ambulance, or it would have come across Cutter’s radio, but I suppose he could have gone to the hospital on his own.”

  “His car is home, remember?”

  “I know there aren’t any local share riding services, but someone could have come from Bryan-College Station.”

  “I’ve already called the hospitals there and asked to be connected to his room. None of them had a Tom Pruett registered.”

  “What about the VA Hospital in Waco? He claimed to have been in the Army or the Navy. Possibly both.”

  “It’s worth a shot. I’ll also look his doctors up and see what hospital they’re affiliated with.”

  “Hey, you’re getting pretty good at this PI stuff!” Genny beamed
. “You should seriously consider getting your license.”

  “Then why am I having such a hard time putting this all together? Tom Pruett obviously had possession of the necklace at one time. He either found it in the chair or put it there himself. I’m unclear if he knew about the nuggets, as well. I know that at some point, he tried selling the necklace to Lamont. Lamont thought the necklace was too hideous to be real and declined the offer. It’s after that point that everything gets fuzzy.”

  “Maybe Lamont convinced Mr. Pruett it was fake, so he put it back in the chair and either forgot about it or thought it would be a fun joke to play on the next person who found it,” Genny suggested.

  “Maybe.” Madison chewed on her lip. “That’s assuming he didn’t know about the nuggets or thought they were fake, too. But for whatever reason, he still had a picture of the necklace pulled up on his computer.”

  “But if he’s senile and having trouble with the concept of time…”

  “There’s still the black car, the woman, and the blackout at the library.”

  “I thought you suspected it was Lamont in the car, an overzealous believer, and what about the blackout?”

  “I didn’t tell you this before. But that day the lights went out, I could have sworn someone else was in the library with me. I heard several sounds. Not creaky, old building sounds, but brush against something sounds. The tiniest of grunts. Something. Or someone.”

  “Three blind mice?” Genny offered with a sheepish grimace.

  “I wish that were all, but I can’t shake the feeling that someone was there. It was while I was searching the web for a match to the necklace. What—What if someone saw my search and wanted to stop me from investigating further? I had been looking up gold nuggets the day before. Maybe someone hacked into the library system and thought I was getting too close to… I don’t know what,” she admitted, “but to something. Something they wanted to remain hidden.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but I doubt the Juliet Municipal Library is a hotbed for routine hacking activity. If someone hacked into your search, they would have had to know you were there and researching the gold. I don’t think that was it.”