Hide and Snake Murder (13 page)

Fifteen

I awoke to someone
prying my left eyelid open.

“Are you in there, Shay O'Hanlon?”

“Wha—” My brain felt like it had been pickled in some of the crude oil that had leaked into the Gulf. Comprehension was slow going.

“Hello in there!”

I weakly batted at the intrusion to my eyeball. Everything was blurry, out of focus.

“Wake up, Shay. It is 7:34 in the morning. You should be up bright and early to make the most valuable use of your day. It is late already!”

“Rocky?” I attempted to open my other eye. The room was bright, much brighter than my bedroom at home. The light hurt. I slammed both eyes shut.

“That is me. Rocky.” His fingers were back, forcing my eye open again. An eyeball stared back at me from about two inches away.

“I'm awake. You can let go of my eyelid now.”

The eyeball and fingers of torture retreated. I blinked a couple of times, and things blended into focus. I was in Kate's room.

Rocky sat on the edge of the bed next to me, dressed in his aviator cap and Twins jacket, even though we were indoors. He had an impish grin on his face and leaned forward until his nose almost touched mine.

“Are you awake?”

“I am now.”

His round face didn't move, and he whispered loudly, “I have a secret.”

My eyes crossed as I attempted to look at him. “What is it?”

Rocky gave me two raised brows and a smirk. “If I told you, it would not be a secret anymore.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed my head against the pillow. I wasn't good morning company on the best of days. I was about two breaths from growling, and I was doing my best not to lash out. It wasn't his fault his internal timer went off at six in the morning.

“You need to eat a nice, balanced breakfast every day, with a portion of the recommended daily allowance of thirty-two grams of fiber to help regulate your digestive system.” He paused dramatically. “You know, so you can poop!”

I laughed in spite of myself. I don't know where he came up with his mandates, but he was usually right. I propped myself up on my elbows, thankful the fog was lifting off my brain.

“So what's your secret?” I asked.

Rocky sat up straight, crossed his legs, and then placed his hands one over the other on top of his knee. He said proudly, “I am in love.”

Oh boy. “With who?”

“Tulip. The most beautiful animal creator ever.”

Tulip … Tulip. Then it came to me. The balloon maker in New Orleans.

“She is the prettiest flower in the world.” Rocky's eyes had taken on a far-away, sappy look, and his face glowed.

What kind of a parent would stick a kid with the name Tulip? I supposed it was better than Turnip. I suppressed a grin. “Tulip is a lovely name, Rocky.”

“We are going to get married one day and have two kids.”

I wasn't ready to deal with love and the Rockster. Coop needed talk to him about the birds and the bees, because I wasn't touching that with a ten-foot pole. No pun intended. “Oh.” I tried to think of a better response. “Don't you think she's a bit far away for a relationship?”

“No, we have Facebook.”

I squinted at him. “Since when did you get a Facebook account?” I knew he didn't have a computer at his place, and he wasn't very tech savvy. Coop had tried to give him some basic web surfing lessons, but Rocky had zoned out after ten minutes.

A huge smile creased his face. “Kate got me all set up last night.”

As I inhaled to speak, the phone on the nightstand next to the bed rang. I grabbed it. “Hello?”

A rusty-sounding voice said, “I'm looking for Shay O'Hanlon. This is Harry.”

“Harry, hi. I'm Shay. Thanks for returning my call.”

“No problem. Any friend of JT's is a friend of mine.” Harry sounded like he was talking out of one side of his mouth. “You're having some problems.”

“Yeah. But, ah, I'd rather not talk about it on the phone.” It dawned on me anyone could tap into Kate's landline. Great. Now I was sounding as paranoid as Coop sometimes was.

“If you want to meet, you'll have to come to me.”

“No problem. Where and when?”

Rocky, bored with my call, wandered out of the room. I was going to have to file the Tulip issue away for later visitation.

There was a few seconds of silence on the line, then Harry said, “Come to the corner of Dunwoody and Hennepin at nine-thirty. Dress down. Gotta go.”

The line disconnected.

I rolled out of bed and looked at myself in the mirror on the dresser. My short black hair stood on end, and one side of my face was imprinted with a latticed stripe from the lace border on the edge of the Kate's pillowcase. The area around the three Steri-strip bandages holding my forehead together was starting to bruise. I sighed and trudged into the master bathroom. It was Frankenstein's shower time.

I pulled on a clean t-shirt and a pair of black jeans, about as “dressed down” as I was going to get. We were going to have to do some laundry soon. I followed my nose toward the kitchen, where some kind soul had put coffee on to brew.

Eddy, Rocky, and Agnes, who looked much less bleary, were all seated around the kitchen table. Coop leaned against the counter next to the refrigerator, his eyes at half-mast, holding an open can of Coke. At my entrance, he looked up and saluted me with his can. “Morning,” he said wryly.

Agnes looked over her coffee cup. “I want to apologize for what happened last night. I shouldn't have wandered off—”

Eddy snorted. “Sure as a chicken has feathers, you shouldn't have wandered off. Scared us silly. And you should know potato juice always kicks your skinny butt. It practically dumps itself down your throat. Dum-dum.”

Agnes stiffened. “Who're you calling—”

“You! Ya boozer.” Eddy narrowed her eyes. “I don't go into strangers' houses and chug their alcohol.”

“Oh, no? What do you call having one too many and falling out of Sula's window?”

“I tripped, and she wasn't a stranger. But she did make a mean J
ä
ger Bomb.”

This was a tale Eddy hadn't told me. “You fell out a window?”

Agnes cut her eyes toward me. “She sure did. Landed right on her head in the flower bed.”

I looked at Eddy, whose lips were pressed tightly together. She said, “I'm just glad it was summertime and the ground was soft.”

Rocky picked that moment to say, “Hi, Shay O'Hanlon!” He grinned, fork in hand, oblivious to the sniping he'd unintentionally cut short. The pan of cinnamon rolls was in front of him with maybe two bites left.

He said, “I love Kate's rolls. And cinnamon lowers cholesterol and inhibits bacterial growth and food spoilage. And tastes great!” He shoved the rest of the gooey roll in his mouth and chewed happily.

“Sit down, Shay,” Eddy told me.

I sat. She stood, went over to the coffee maker, and poured a cup.

Eddy placed a chipped mug adorned with a Rabbit Hole logo in front of me. I took a careful sip and sighed as the dark liquid seared its way down my throat. “Where's Baz?” I asked.

Coop's glower deepened. “Still out on the couch.”

Nice.

“Rocky,” Coop said, “why don't you go and give Baz the eye treatment you gave me this morning?”

Nice to know I wasn't the only one who had their eyelids peeled apart as a wake-up call.

“No, thank you. I don't like Spaz Man. He's mean.” Rocky slid the pan away and stood.

“Basil's not mean, Rocky. He's just a little misguided,” Agnes said.

“I have to go Facebook.” Rocky zipped out of the kitchen.

Agnes pursed her thin lips in disdain. “Facebook? That's all the kids talk about nowadays. Doesn't anyone talk with their real faces anymore?”

“Not when they can do it on a piece of technology.” Coop rubbed his scruffy chin. “Rocky doesn't have a computer.”

I said, “Kate let him use hers and set him up last night so he can communicate with his newfound love.”

“Love?” Eddy said. “What love?”

“Tulip of the balloon animals.” I took another sip of coffee, feeling the caffeine spread into my veins like hot lava.

Coop asked, “Tulip from New Orleans?”

“Yup. He's in love, and they're going to date via Facebook.”

Agnes said, “My goodness, things have changed since I was young.”

“You haven't been young for sixty years, Aggie.” Eddy poked her arm. “Maybe Kate should give you Facebook lessons. Nicholas got me all set up, and I can friend you.”

Agnes harrumphed. “I don't know a thing about computers, and I'm too old to start now. He tried. I failed.”

Eddy said, “You might be old, but you still have a brain in there.”

Agnes gave Eddy a sharp look. “Are you saying I'm old?”

“You called your own self old.”

Agnes frowned. “Guess I did.”

“Anyway,” I jumped in before the conversation veered too far off the path. “We need to run to Target or somewhere and buy a couple pay-as-you-go phones.”

I turned to Eddy and Agnes. “How much cash do you guys have on you?”

A strange look crossed Agnes's face. She said, “Oh … A few bucks.”

I restrained myself from rolling my eyes. Eddy hated when I disrespected my elders.

“I have,” Eddy said as she emptied her pockets on the tabletop and counted, “Two hundred seventy—”

Agnes interrupted her. “Where did you get all that dough?”

Eddy narrowed her eyes at Agnes. “Are you accusing me of something?”

“No, I was just asking. No need to get defensive.”

“I won this money fair and square, Aggie.”

“Didn't say you didn't.”

“But you implied—”

“Ladies,” I burst out. “Stop.”

They tore their gazes from each other to look at me.

“I'm meeting with JT's co-worker, Dirty Harry—”

Eddy said, “Silly name.”

I gave Eddy a look. “Why I was asking for money is this. Hunk and company probably already know my pickup, and if they don't, they can find out. I think we should rent a car, something unassuming, and if you pay in cash … ” I trailed off, leaving the obvious unsaid. “And we'd have a heck of a lot more room. Coop and I can drop you off and we can meet back here when we're done.”

Plan agreed upon, we left Dawg still snoozing on Kate's bed, Baz sound asleep on the couch, and Rocky chortling periodically in front of the computer screen.

We dropped Eddy and Agnes off at Enterprise Rent-A-Car and headed to Target in Edina. The sun was shining, and puffy white clouds floated high in the sky. I should be out running around Lake Calhoun or getting frisky with JT, not on a mission to buy untraceable phones.

Target was open when we arrived, and the place was busy even at this early hour. We procured two basic phones, and headed back to the car. I activated them, then called and left a message for JT, relaying the new numbers to her.

I pulled into Kate's driveway less than an hour later, and we'd just stepped from the car when a loud rumble filled the air.

Coop looked at me. “What is that?”

“I dunno. Sounds like a car with a glasspack, or a missing muffler, maybe.”

The rumbling grew louder. A neon-orange Dodge Charger with black stripes and shiny black tires pulled into the drive and stopped next to my pickup. The rumble of the engine vibrated the cement beneath my feet.

My jaw dropped.

Eddy hopped out, beaming like a mom with a newborn. The passenger door opened more slowly, and Agnes emerged from the dark interior, looking a little pale but slightly smug herself.

Eddy patted on the hood. “What do you think of this little baby?”

Coop walked slowly around it, whistling under his breath the tune that usually accompanied clowns under the big top. He claimed it was “Entrance of the Gladiators,” but I hadn't believed him until I Googled it myself. He was right.

I said, “Why?”

Eddy's grin stretched from ear to ear. “Gotta use a credit card at Enterprise even if you pay cash. So me and Aggie had to take a cab to this little place in North Minneapolis that would accept the greenbacks. It was called,” she drew a large rectangle in the air, “Stan & Ione's Classic Rental Cars. ‘We take cash.' ” She eyed me. “You did say no credit cards.”

Guilty on that count.

“And this was all they had left.”

Of course it was.

“And it sure goes fast.”

And that's why Agnes was pale. Eddy loved speed, whether she was in her old yellow truck or driving someone else's car. Whenever I rode with her, I regretted not having the forethought to take Dramamine, and I prayed for my very life the duration of the trip. It didn't help that Eddy's peripheral vision had gone to hell and she refused to admit it.

Coop trailed a hand over the glossy paint. “How much did this set you back?”

For the first time, an abashed look clouded Eddy's face. “Don't ask. It's Aggie's fault.”

“I thought,” I said to Agnes, “you had a few bucks. You
did
use a credit card, didn't you.”

Eddy said, her voice well into accusatory range, “Are you deaf, child? I told you we had to go somewhere else. We didn't use a credit card. But Agnes whipped out a roll the size of a drug dealer's.”

She'd definitely watched too many episodes of
Weeds
.

Coop said, “Did you win more than you let on, Agnes?”

“Perhaps.” She didn't elaborate.

Maybe she lifted money from the bear. That would make me laugh.

Eddy said, “She was holding out.”

A rare look of guilt crossed Agnes's face. “Okay, okay. Fine. I won a titch more than I mentioned.”