A Drink of Death (Japanese Tea Garden Mysteries Book 2) Page 6

  When Angela Jenkins first turned up dead, I was sure that Daniel Walker had something to do with it. He certainly behaved like someone capable of committing murder to get what he wanted. As it had turned out, he didn’t do it.

  But he wanted my property. He wanted it so badly that, for the past several weeks, he’d campaigned to get himself onto the Little River Board for Industry and Tourism so he would have the ear of the City Council. From there, he could whisper his opinions about new businesses like mine and about what was best for local tourism. Basically, whatever brought in the money was what the City Council wanted to listen to.

  While he wormed his way into the local politics, he didn’t have as much time to bother me. For several weeks now, I had gotten a lot of things done on the grounds. But then he came back swinging, telling me that he was going to shut my garden down and let the weeds overtake it before he bought it at auction for a penny on the dollar.

  Of course, I didn’t pay him any mind. But now that he was on my property with another fellow in a union local 282 hat and a clipboard, I had no choice.

  “What are you up to this time?” I asked.

  But it wasn’t Daniel Walker who answered.

  “Are you Ms. Maddie Morgan?” Clipboard Man asked.

  “I am,” I said.

  “Ms. Morgan, your property here is in violation of seven city ordinances.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I shook my head in disbelief.

  “Read ‘em and weep,” Daniel said, as he snatched the papers out of his cohort’s hands and passed them to me. “I told you I was going to be watching this place. You didn’t believe me. But now you know I’m not playing around.”

  “You’re right. I thought you’d given up and gone about living your life. But it’s obvious you’re obsessed with me. This is just another ploy to come over here. I’ve told you before, Daniel, we can be friends but nothing more.”

  I watched as an angry shade of red crept up his neck, flooding his cheeks and making a vein throb on his left temple. It was gross but I couldn’t look away.

  “This is no laughing matter,” Daniel said hotly. “You’ve got thirty days to fix these violations. I hope you’ve got a tree with money for leaves growing back in your garden, because when I’m finished with you…”

  “Ahem.” His toady interrupted.

  Daniel got his message and started over with a slightly less threatening tone. “You ought to sell,” he advised me. “I’ve heard you’re already stretched, paying for your house to be renovated.”

  “My finances are none of your business,” I snapped, feeling my own face heat up. The storm cloud of my bad visit to the loan officer at the bank the other day hovered over me.

  “Uh, here is the formal list of violations and how to proceed,” Clipboard Man interrupted us both, handing me another piece of paper. He stretched his arm out, as if my fingers might turn into vipers and bite him. “If you have questions, just call the number at the top of the form.”

  “How long am I closed for?” I asked.

  “It says right on the top of the form…”

  “You’ve got a week to get the place up to code,” Daniel barked. “But you won’t be able to do it. If I have any say in it, this place will be closed permanently.”

  “I wish your mouth would be closed permanently,” I remarked.

  Clipboard Man chuckled, before catching himself and sobering quickly.

  Daniel Walker stomped closer to me.

  “You think this is a joke?” he asked.

  I refused to be provoked further. I looked around Daniel, at Clipboard Man. “I’ll handle this.” I waved the paper at him. “Now, I respectfully ask you both to get off my property. As much as you may hate it, this is still my property.”

  “Not for much longer,” Daniel hissed before turning and walking past Mr. Clipboard and climbed back into his truck. Within seconds, he was speeding out of the parking lot, kicking up gravel and dirt. His companion followed more slowy.

  “I’m so sorry, Maddie. I didn’t know what else to do with him,” Kelly said, as she emerged from the gift shop. “He’s so miserable to deal with.”

  “Don’t apologize. You were right to call me,” I said. “I would’ve come in to work earlier this morning, but there was an emergency at home.”

  I looked at the list of violations but my eyes wouldn’t focus on them. I had too many other things to worry about. Like my loan status and, of course, Mamma Jackie.

  I said, “Listen, can you find out when the next board meeting for local business and tourism is scheduled? I’m tired of dealing with that man by myself.”

  “Sure, Maddie. I’ll get that for you right away.” Kelly pulled out her cell phone and began to tap away.

  “Just write it down and leave it for me to find later. No hurry.” I let out a deep breath. “I’ve got to get back to the house. Can you handle closing off the property and, well, since we won’t have any visitors, there’s no need to keep the gift shop open. Looks like you get the week off.”

  “If there’s anything on that list that I can help with, let me know,” Kelly offered. “The last thing I want is to see the tea garden permanently shut down.”

  I promised I would recruit her as soon as I had a plan. Then, I headed home. On the brief drive back, I fought an unpleasant feeling that disasters were piling up around me lately.

  “Where in the world are you, Mamma Jackie?” I muttered, as I slammed my car door and climbed the front steps.

  I felt a twinge of anger in my chest as I considered how coincidental it was that right after Mamma Jackie went missing Daniel showed up waving a list of city ordinance violations.

  “Could he have something to do with it?” I wondered aloud. “He wouldn’t be that bold. He wouldn’t hurt an old lady just to get his hands on my property. Would he?”

  The two men who had been working on my kitchen had shown up to put in a few more hours of work. I made them a fresh pot of coffee and let them get started. But my mind was a million miles away.

  Daniel Walker was one of the first people to come to mind when Angela Jenkins was found dead. That wasn’t normal. You didn’t just have a go-to suspect every time a person went dead or missing. And yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Daniel Walker might be involved in Mamma Jackie’s disappearance.

  In the front room, I went up to Moonshine, who was busy criticizing everyone and everything he saw moving outside the window.

  “Where is your owner, Moonshine?” I asked absently.

  He only answered with a series of sad clucking and clicking sounds.

  Just then, there was a knock on the front door.

  9

  “Why is the door locked?” Drake asked. I could see the annoyance in his eyes.

  “Because there’s a dangerous kidnapper around, Drake.” I pointed out as I unlocked everything and stepped aside to let him in.

  “You’ve got workers here. How do they get in and out?”

  “They use the back door.” I looked at the two carpenters who were outside cutting pieces of wood and what I hoped was my fake marble countertop. “On to more important topics. Where did you rush off to this morning?”

  He sidestepped the question. “Have you heard from my mother?”

  “Don’t you think I would have said something if I had?” I looked at him as if he had grown a third eye. “But the police were here and I gave them all the information I could. They want to talk to you.”

  “I don’t have time for this.” Drake looked around as if he were searching for his keys.

  “You still haven’t explained where you went. Who did you talk to?” I took a seat in the front room, on the couch.

  “None of those people at the community garden know anything,” he said by way of answer.

  “Well, I could have told you that.” I shook my head. “Those people have deep roots around here and none of them would have any reason to steal your mother. Crazy as it may seem, they might ask to borro
w her for a day or two because they think she’s wonderful. But kidnap her for evil reasons? No.”

  “You said she likes to go to the Red Chip Casino. There would be surveillance of her there.”

  “Yes, there would be but her pocketbook and senior citizen discount card are still here. She’d never go there without them. No one is going to charge her the full $9.99 for the all-you-can-eat buffet when she’s supposed to get it for $6.99.”

  I chuckled to myself. It was true. Mamma Jackie probably had a million dollars stuffed in her mattress but she’d pinch a quarter until the eagle screamed.

  “Still, maybe she went there with a friend. Maybe they offered to pay.”

  “Drake, you’re grasping at straws. Your mother didn’t go to Red Chip. Now, do you want to keep pretending that you’re turning every stone to find her or can we both agree you’re stalling.”

  “Stalling?”

  “Yeah. You know something that you’re not saying.” I pointed my finger at him like a gun. “Unless you’re the one who kidnapped your own mother, I’d suggest you start talking.”

  Drake flopped down on the armchair he had slept in last night.

  “I may as well have kidnapped her,” he grumbled.

  “What?”

  “Do you remember back in Winchester the Nicolaidis case?”

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  “Pete Nicolaidis? They used to call him The Cleaner?”

  “Oh, yeah.” I nodded. “It was in the papers when they put him in jail. They suspected his network of all kinds of crimes but only got him on bribing a cop or something, right?”

  “He was up on murder. But they settled for a lesser offense of bribing a police officer. Funny. He told that officer that if he altered his testimony Nicolaidis’ friends wouldn’t hunt down the cop’s family and put them in the hospital. Said if the cop agreed to throw the case, he would have his daughter’s college tuition in his bank account within an hour after his testimony.” Drake closed his eyes and stretched his neck. “That’s one heck of a choice.”

  “Yeah, but you were second chair on that one. You weren’t the primary attorney,” I pointed out. “And that was quite a while ago.”

  “It was,” Drake muttered. “But I’m head chair on the case prosecuting Nicolaidis for money laundering.”

  “Okay. So?”

  “So, that means that if Nicolaidis’ influence stretches across the state, as I’m pretty sure it does, he may have something to do with my mother disappearing.”

  I frowned. “Drake, I know you’re a good lawyer, but I think you’ve seen too many movies. A wise guy like that wouldn’t go after you just for doing your job. That would hardly be on his list of things to accomplish while he’s already locked up.”

  “You don’t understand, Maddie,” Drake said. “I’m the one who discovered the money laundering operation. I’ve got the paperwork, the storefront, the people involved. We’re talking about millions of dollars.”

  “A million dollars a year?”

  “A million dollars a month.” Drake swallowed hard. “And I have the one piece of evidence that ties Nicolaidis to this and proves he’s been working this angle from prison. Maddie, if he can run his business this effectively from prison, it’s not out of the realm of possibility that he had his men snatch up my mom.”

  I shook my head. This couldn’t be real. This stuff only happened in the movies. Right?

  “Are you sure they even know you’re involved?” I asked.

  “My name is all over the court documents, Maddie.”

  “Were you sent any threats or letters? They would have had to tell you what they were up to. They couldn’t just hope you knew it was over this money laundering business.”

  “What else could it be?”

  “I’m still not sure your mother didn’t make someone mad enough to do something about it,” I said.

  I shivered. I knew how that woman behaved when she didn’t get her way. I knew it a lot better than most. What if she had pushed someone too far?

  Drake’s voice was strained. “This is serious. These guys don’t care. They don’t care about Mom, or you, or me. They don’t. That’s the kind of freedom that can allow for any level of violence.”

  I sat for a moment and looked at my hands. My mind was a blank. If all of this was true, and maybe it was, I couldn’t come up with a solution of any kind other than to play ball with the bad guys.

  “So, what are you going to do?” I asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  I watched Drake for a moment. He looked stumped. But I knew my ex-husband, and just when you thought you’d backed him into a corner he would find a way to crawl on the ceiling and turn up behind you.

  “What sort of business is the front for the money laundering?” I asked, thinking aloud.

  “Does that really matter?” Drake shook his head at me. “I know what you’re thinking and the answer is no. You’re going to stay as far away from this situation as possible.”

  I tried to look innocent. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ll stay close to home. I can’t recover Mom if these hoods get their hands on you, too.”

  “But, Drake, what do you know about snooping around?” I argued. “You’re about as subtle as a slap in the face. Do you really expect me to believe it’s safe and reasonable for you to go investigate criminals and thugs alone?”

  “Yes,” he said, his words carrying the ring of finality. “You just keep your cell phone on in case I need to call you. And you’re right to keep all the doors locked at all times. How long are the carpenters staying?”

  “I don’t know. Until they’re done for the day, I guess.”

  “Well, just because they’re working for you doesn’t mean they are who they say they are.”

  I thought Drake was overreacting. Especially since the guys working on my kitchen had been in business in Little River for over eighteen years. But Drake had the tendency to want to take charge of every situation.

  I decided it wasn’t worth arguing over. “I don’t promise to stay indoors all day, but I’ll have my phone on me at all times,” I compromised.

  Drake seemed to accept that was the best he was going to get. “I’m going to head back to Winchester and my office,” he said.

  “What’s in Winchester?” I asked.

  “The Winchester Penitentiary, Don Nicolaidis’ current residence,” he answered darkly.

  Before I could ask whether that was a wise place for him to go right now, he said, “If it’s all right with you, I’ll use your shower here, before I head out.”

  “Of course. That’s fine,” I said and told him to go upstairs.

  While he showered, I ironed his suit and shirt so he wouldn’t look like he had slept in them, and hung them on the back of the bathroom door for him. It felt strange repeating the old ritual.

  After twenty minutes, he bounded down the stairs, while tightening his tie around his neck.

  “Thanks for the ironing,” he said.

  I nodded. “Don’t forget to stop by the police station on your way out of Little River. They want to talk to you.”

  “Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Who is the guy I’m supposed to talk to?”

  I knew he remembered Michael’s name but I repeated it to him anyway. When he left, it felt like the room had brightened. Drake had a way of looming over a person without even trying. I didn’t think he was even aware of it. It served him well in the courtroom but it was awkward in normal surroundings.

  I locked the front door behind him after he left. Although I had told Drake that I wasn’t going to be a prisoner in my own home, now that he was gone I didn’t know what to do. Not until I went upstairs and saw Drake’s notebook on a table in the hall.

  Drake was a compulsive note taker. I expected to find his normal scribbles of court dates, opposing council names and phone numbers. But I never expected to find a clue to Mamma Jackie’s disappearance.

  10

&nbs
p; Paw’s Place was a pet store in the middle of downtown Little River. I recognized the name when I read it, because Mamma Jackie sometimes went there for bird feed. The chicken scratches in Drake’s notebook were just a couple of initials and the name of the pet store, but I immediately formed a hunch. Drake had implied a local business was the front for his money laundering case and who was to say that business couldn’t be right here in Little River?

  Since Drake was on his way to Winchester and hadn’t said when he’d be back, I had at least a couple hours to check out the pet store. I felt it was safe to make a move.

  “Of course, you can’t just go waltzing in there, snooping in the storage room and asking where they clean their money,” I admitted to myself, as I came back downstairs.

  “Rawk! Lazy!” Moonshine squawked from his corner of the front room.

  I looked at the bird and smiled. “How about we go for a little adventure, Moonshine?”

  In answer, he cawed and flapped his wings.

  I stomped over to the cage and grabbed the cover to shimmy over the top. The bird went quiet inside. He didn’t make a single peep when I loaded him into the car. As we drove, I contemplated taking the cover off the cage but decided against it. After the morning I’d had, I was enjoying the silence.

  My plan was simple. I could easily visualize it in my head.

  Here I was, just an overwhelmed woman who could no longer tend to her beloved bird, due to a sick relative. I didn’t feel I was really lying, since when Mamma Jackie was in a tantrum she became practically deranged, in my unprofessional opinion, and that was kind of a sickness. In my story, I would be scouting out places that might find a good home for the bird. The proprietor of Paw’s Place was probably a nice older lady with a soft spot for animals, who would instantly fall in love with Moonshine. They wouldn’t have a creepy gangster in charge of the pet store, I was sure. That would look suspicious. No, they’d find a likeable, completely naïve looking person as their front man—or front old lady.