Page 23 of 3rd Tango
“Really, Meg? That’s what you’re going with?”
Shame churns inside me, making my cheeks hot. “I’m sorry,” I blurt. “I didn’t mean it in a rude way. I’m just…surprised. You normally flag that stuff.”
“Tough to catch this one. The AG started an internal investigation into how Al and his partner were able to close cases so fast. And then a key witness, who was going to give the proof they needed to dig deeper, went AWOL.”
“And he still had a job?”
“Not exactly. The Bureau didn’t have enough evidence, but the rumor is they encouraged him to retire early. If he took the deal, they’d bury the investigation. It allowed him to keep his reputation—and commendations—intact.”
I let out a low whistle and Charlie spends the next few minutes filling me in on an informant who accused Alfonzo of entrapment. The entire thing sounds way too sordid for Schock Investigations, so I don’t blame Charlie for waffling on hiring the guy.
Employment status with our agency aside, our mother has aligned herself with this man. “Mom thinks the world of him.”
“I know. Which is why I’m going to excavate every secret he has. We need to know who—and what—we’re dealing with.” She slides her strap to her shoulder and pulls her keys from the front pocket. “She was planning to come in and make some calls this morning, but she’s got a migraine. You’re off the hook. You still coming in?”
I gaze off at a passing car. Our neighbor two doors down with the yappy dog. We exchange a wave and I go back to Charlie. “I was thinking I’d ride out to Mom and Dad’s. Maybe stop by Marie’s.” I circle my hand around my head. “Something isn’t sitting right about her. I can check on Mom while I’m there.”
“Your instincts are good, so if you feel like you need to explore it, have at it.”
“I keep thinking about this FBI most wanted angle and all those paintings. She’s been a lot of places.”
“Maybe she likes to travel.”
Charlie playing devil’s advocate. Something she enjoys when we’re hashing out cases.
“Perhaps. But if we’re going to get Mom to back off, I want to satisfy myself. So, I’m off for a visit where I’ll stop and purchase one of the paintings I saw on Marie’s website. Windswept. Which, by the way, is a horrible name for a painting of a lighthouse.”
At that, Charlie chuckles. She heads to the driver’s side of her shiny BMW that glistens under a perfect morning sun. “Check in when you’re done. Let me know what you’ve found.”
Ninety minutes later, after showering and dressing in a fresh pair of jeans and my favorite tie-dyed T-shirt, I park in front of my parents’ and text mom, letting her know I’m doing reconnaissance and she should not, under any circumstances, make an appearance.
Gayle and Marie already know she’s spying. Marie made that clear at the art fair. Mom showing up while I’m buying a painting won’t help our cause.
I spot an SUV along with an older model Toyota—Gayle’s car. Damn. I was hoping to catch Marie alone, but whatever.
Winging it has never been an issue for me, something that irritates the hell out of Charlie.
I stride up the walkway, keeping my pace casual in case they have one of those cameras everyone is chattering about. I sure as heck don’t want to appear nervous or up to something. Nope. Not me. Just a friendly neighbor stopping in for a chat.
As I approach, I draw in a breath, easing it out slowly while I punch the doorbell.
A few seconds later, the door opens and I’m greeted by Marie in a pair of paint-stained hospital scrubs. Her long hair is in a ponytail and her right cheek marred with a smudge of black.
Clearly, I’ve caught her at work.
“Hello,” she says, her eyes brightening.
“Hi, Marie. I’m sorry to barge in on you.” I gesture to my parents’ home. “I was visiting and wanted to see if you still had Windswept available. I saw it on your website.”
Her jaw drops and I’m left to wonder if her shock is over my willingness to buy her stuff or the fact I’ve shown up at her door to do so. Maybe both.
“Windswept?”
“I’d like to buy it. Is it available?”
A wide, open-mouthed smile splits her face. “Oh, my goodness. Yes. Of course I have it. I can’t believe you want it.”
I let out a soft laugh. “Um, Marie? No offense, but you need to fix your sales strategy.”
