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And then there was Dylan Hardy (yes, heavy on the ‘har’) standing close to one wall. White paint flecked his muscled forearms. Under my gaze, he crossed his arms across his chest, which did lovely things for his biceps. He really did look every inch the security guard/handy man. Poor guy. With any luck, he’d be putting that paintbrush down very shortly.

And guess who else was there?

“Well, hello Katt, Mrs. Presley, Dix! So good to see you all again. As always, ladies, you’re looking lovely. Did you enjoy the chocolates and flowers?”

Noel Almond.

Of course the asshole had shown up. The voice mail I’d left for him had been pretty explicit. When. Where. What would be happening. The only thing I left out was ‘who’.

But I was surprised that he hadn’t shown at mother’s door before this little meeting. I know cops, and they don’t like surprises. They don’t like having their thunder stolen. They don’t like when smart women come in and show them up by doing their jobs for them.

So yeah, I was surprised. And a little suspicious. Did Deputy Almond know something I didn’t? Something I should?

Mrs. P was so kind as to answer Almond’s question. “We certainly did enjoy the presents. I love chocolate. Can’t go wrong with flowers. But I wonder, Noel, did you enjoy your bill from the restaurant where you and Dix dined last night?”

Apparently, Deputy Almond had yet to receive that bill, for he looked truly taken off guard by Mrs. Presley’s comment. But he wasn’t the only one.

When I shot a look at Dylan, his face was carefully, tellingly blank. He’d known that I’d met with the deputy; I’d told him as much. I think I even told him it was over dinner. I just hadn’t mentioned it had involved chocolates and flowers. Shit.

Almond recovered quickly, pushing any uneasiness he might have felt from Mrs. P’s jibe aside, and smiled again. “The main thing is that our Ms. Dodd had a wonderful time last night. Fine French restaurant, a little laughter, coziness, small talk…. Did I mention how helpful the talking part was?”

Grrrrrrrrrrr.

Okay, firstly the ‘our Ms. Dodd’ sounds like something out of a Jane Austen novel, and I’m the last candidate for a character in one of those. Secondly, did he have to blab to the whole world I was so foolishly manipulated?

“Why Deputy,” Tish purred. “A French restaurant? You’d think you’d have taken a real lady.”

“Maybe someday I will, Tish.” He smiled at her and winked.

Oh God, he winked!

I cleared my throat. Twice. This one was for my mother.

I nodded to Mother and Mrs. P, who each took a seat on the small sofa at the room’s far end. Sensing something was up, Mona left the crib table and joined them.

With a quick look to Dylan (who was still unsmiling), I began. “I am sure the fact that my mother, Katt Dodd, has spent the night in jail hasn’t escaped the notice of anyone here.”

Beth Mary faked a hand-to-chest, I-had-no-idea gasp, but dropped it when she looked around the room and realized she was the only one pretending.

“It would be pretty hard to miss such a thing,” I said, “since Deputy Almond was kind enough to send a full police escort to pick up my mother. Apparently, the Sheriff’s Department feels they need full backup to escort a compliant, upstanding, innocent (if I said little old lady, Mother would kill me) woman to jail.” I looked to Almond. “Did I mention innocent?”

His expression had not changed — the smirk had not dropped, the eyes didn’t betray anything but that annoying amusement I loathed. “Katt Dodd, innocent?” he said. “That’s not where the evidence leads.”

I laughed. “Oh, that’s exactly where the evidence leads. I know who the real thief is.”

Yes, I can’t help it. My own personal theme song was playing through my mind.

Harriet grunted. “I hardly think we need be wasting our time listening to this.” She turned to Deputy Almond. “Is this how you conduct your investigations, Deputy? By letting some … some porn star,” (and she said it like it was a bad thing!) “make accusations? Refute evidence?”

I glared at Harriet Appleton. And though Wiggie (looking paler by the moment) seemed to deflate behind her, she didn’t budge under my best evil glare.

“My first thought — hell, my first prayer — Harriet, was that you were responsible for the thefts.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” she said.

“Like I said. That was my first thought. But unfortunately, wishes don’t always come true. You’re a loud-mouthed, obnoxious, mean-spirited old coot, but you’re not a thief.”

“Is this what we have to expect from this little show of yours, Dix?” Tish poured her words into the room. “One by one, you go around insulting us? This your hard evidence? Name calling?”

“Not quite Tish. And may I ask where you were on the night the broach was being stolen from Roger’s condo?” My eyes narrowed.

“That’s easy,” Tish said. “That’s idiotic also. I was down at the Roxie’s Bar. Ask Buckie, the bartender with the mermaid tats on his forearms. He’ll tell you.”

“I will.”

I wouldn’t. I had nothing on Tish. Just wanted to see if I could get her to answer. me. God, I loved the power. Okay, now with that out of the way….

I addressed the crowd again. “Any one of you could be responsible for the thefts. You all know each other. You know where each other lives. Hell, if my guess is right, you know the details of each others lives very well — right down to the rings on and off fingers, the birthdays, weddings and funerals. I’ve seen this community. Everyone knows everyone else’s business.”

“It’s called caring, Dix,” Mona said. “And that’s not a bad thing.”

She was right of course. And she squeezed my mother’s hand as she said it.

Oh I wanted her to remember those words.

“I know it is, Mona. And for the most part, it’s a great little community you have here. But there is a thief in the henhouse. A rooster in the tool shed. A goat in the foyer. An umbrella in the….”

Jesus, I really do suck at metaphors.

I quit while I was ahead. (Okay, so maybe I wasn’t ahead, but I quit anyway.)

“Get to the point, Dix.”

Okay, if anyone but Noel Almond had said that, I would have gotten to the point. Because I was damn good and ready to. I would have gotten to the point right then and there. But because Noel said it, my first inclination was to drag it out as long as I could

No chip on my shoulder. Much.

“My point is,” I said. “The real thief here at the Wildoh is not Katt Dodd as you’ve all been so willing to believe. My mother has been set up. Set up by the only one who could possibly do such a thing. By the only one who had the technology. The capability to enter locked doors so very well.”

Harriet hmphed. “Your mother’s the escape artist. The one with the expertise.”

“Ah,” I said. “Big Eddie Baskin is the one with the keys. Big Eddie, aka the Taker-Charger, is the one with the access to every accommodation on site, day and night, without suspicion. The one who could sneak into my mother’s place, take her watch and plant it for evidence at Roger Cassidy’s”

“That’s preposterous!” Mona leapt up. Judging from the brilliant flush on her face, I’d say her blood pressure had just shot up to way-too-big-a-number over holy-shit. She looked ready to rip me apart in defense of her boyfriend. “Eddie is as honest as the day is long. I’ve known him for years! We … we all have.” She looked to Mom. “I’m sorry, Katt. I want your name cleared as soon as possible. I know you’re not one bit guilty. But we were together the night the watch went missing. All night, Dix. I stayed over at his place.”