A Geek Girl's Guide to Justice (The Geek Girl Mysteries) Read online

  “Are you going to talk to her?”

  “Probably.” I dashed the toe of my shoe against the beautiful white bead board wrapping Grandma’s island. “Anything I need to know before I do?”

  “Besides she’s the devil? Not much. Self-important. Status-obsessed. Power-hungry. In love with her shoes and reflection.”

  I could relate with the shoe thing. “So, she’s mouthy and driven, but would she kill him? Even if she hated Dante, they were divorced. She’d already successfully removed him from her life and taken more than her share in the split. Where’s her motive?” I narrowed my eyes. “She’s the devil doesn’t count as motive.”

  Grandma lowered her shoulders.

  My phone rang. The standard old-fashioned phone ring, not a caller-specific, advanced-warning ring. I braced myself. Phone calls were the pits and usually bad news or a telemarketer, which also classified as bad news. Why didn’t everyone text? No small talk needed. Bring pizza. 7pm. Easy. Bring bail. Straight to the point.

  I accepted the call, prepared for anything. “Hello?”

  “Yeah. This is Trey at Ohio Wiring.”

  Except that. I’d nearly forgotten about my new project. “Yes?” Ohio Wiring had come in at an amazing price on a bid request I’d sent several companies about network cabling. There was nothing Horseshoe Falls residents liked more than their rustic, parklike setting and Wi-Fi. They’d hated the ugly telephone poles and cables, so those went out long ago in favor of underground utility wiring. My new upgrade was a surprise I couldn’t wait to deliver. The whole community was going wireless. In a few days, residents of Horseshoe Falls could enjoy the same high-speed internet access they had at home anywhere within our walls. I could almost see the email praises rolling in. “Everything on schedule for Monday morning?”

  “Actually, we finished our job in Shaker Heights early. We can get the process started at your location today if that works for you.”

  “Well.” I wavered. “It’s Saturday.” I paused. Way to state the obvious. “I have some things to do this morning. When will you be here? I’d like to talk with you before you begin. Is there any additional charge for weekend hours?”

  “No extra charge. We’re still in Cleveland, but we’ll be in the area after lunch.”

  I checked my watch. It was already ten. I preferred they didn’t arrive before the police finished their work at the lake. How long did it take to drag a lake? That probably depended on the size of the weapon the police were looking for. The muck had eaten my shoes in seconds. It seemed unlikely the murder weapon would be recovered if it was truly in the murky depths of our geese-poop-infested lake. More likely, the killer had taken the weapon with him to dispose of properly.

  “Ma’am?” Trey huffed. “Are you there?”

  “Sorry. Yes.” I shook the windstorm of questions from my mind and concentrated on something I could do. Be here to help make the community smile. “Is after two too late?”

  “Nope. We’ll see you then.” He disconnected.

  Four more hours seemed like enough time for the police to finish up. If not, I’d deal with the conflict when it came.

  “What’s at two?” Grandma asked.

  “The guys are coming to start the wireless project today instead of Monday.”

  “That’s wonderful. Did you say you have plans? I’d hoped you’d stay awhile. I can make lunch.”

  I flipped the hem of my skirt. “Can’t. I’m meeting Bree at Le Bouchon at eleven. I put the contractors off awhile so I can be back before they arrive. If the police are still here, I wouldn’t want the wiring guys in the way.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on them. In fact, when I take Bernie lunch, I’ll tell her about the contractors. I’ll find out if there have been any reporters, too.”

  “Deal.”

  “Tell Bree I send my love. Anything new with her today?”

  I whipped her latest list of demands from my purse. “Not much new. She’s lost her blessed mind, but that’s been thirty years coming.” Bree was my identical twin sister, but our list of commonalities stopped with genetics. She was everything I wasn’t, including married and a mother. She also thought sex ran the world and Harley Quinn was a book publishing company.

  Grandma took the list and read it silently, making faces every few seconds. She returned the paper to me with a forced smile. “Well, good luck with that. I’m sure the shower will be lovely.”

  “You can help if you want. We can divide and conquer.”

  “I would, sweetie, but I don’t want to.” She followed me to the door. “Would you do me a favor when you have time?”

  “What do you need?” I held my breath as she picked polish off her thumbnail.

  “Will you look into Marvin for me?”

  Today was full of surprises. My muscles tensed. “Why? Is something wrong? Did he do something?”

  “No, no, no. Nothing like that.” She flapped her hands. “We’ve been dating for six months, and it’s getting serious for me. I don’t want to be foolish with my heart.” She averted her gaze briefly but shook off the strange vibe with the lift of her chin. “I thought your grandfather was my one true love, but I’m beginning to think Marvin would make a nice long-term companion. As long as he isn’t a criminal or hiding a perversion of some sort. I don’t deal with perverts. Also make sure his finances are in order. And check for alter-egos and outstanding warrants.”

  Jeez. “Okay.” She partially lost me at perverts, but I got the gist.

  She opened the door. “No need to tell anyone about this.”

  “None.” I wondered if I should stay and ask more about this “long-term” business, but if I hurried, I’d have time to pay Angelina a visit before lunch with Bree. The Happy Farmer headquarters was right down the street from Le Bouchon.

  She nearly shoved me onto the porch, as if she’d read my mind. “Thank you. Call me after you finish.”

  “After I finish with Bree?”

  “No,” she guffawed. “With El Diablo.”

  Oh boy.

  * * *

  I parked on the street outside Happy Farmer and checked my watch. If I hurried, I’d still be late for lunch, but it couldn’t be avoided and Bree held me to unreasonable standards where time was concerned. She was born with a stickler gene. Science might not have located the chromosomal predisposition yet, but Bree was evidence it existed. I, on the other hand, couldn’t get anywhere on time. I tried. It never worked. Things happened to me. I forgot details. Lost directions. Got sidetracked. Followed combine tractors at eight miles per hour. You name it, it happened. The fact Bree, or anyone, was never late baffled me. I assumed black magic.

  I stepped into the revolving door at Happy Farmer and cringed. The jingle from their commercial played on hidden speakers. It was one of those adorable numbers that wormed into my head and made me slowly insane. Not unlike the cheerful children’s chorus in the It’s a Small World ride at Magic Kingdom. Our parents had taken Bree and me when we were six, and I’d lain flat on the boat’s bottom through nine countries and fourteen childhood strokes. That ride was terrifying. I’d filled many journal pages on the topic afterward and actively avoided animatronics to this day.

  The revolving door dumped me inside a soaring four-story foyer. I headed for the welcome desk, ignoring the jingle that seemed to come from everywhere. “Hello. Angelina Weiss, please?”

  The bright-eyed coed behind the counter beamed. “Sure thing!” She typed on her keyboard. “Looks like she’s in her office. Go right up.”

  “Thanks.” I took my time passing the desk and rubbernecked the coed’s computer screen. Tiny blue dots moved around a grid. “You track the employees?”

  “It’s a big campus.” She smiled wider, a little manically, but it might’ve been the damn jingle getting to me.

  I scanned the bo
ard outside the elevator for Angelina’s office number. Fourteenth floor. I climbed onboard and pushed the button.

  The shiny doors closed, trapping me with the munchkin sounds of “Hap-py Far-mer. Hap-py, Hap-py Far-mer. Fruits and veggies, breads and grain, all organic, washed with rain. Hap-py Far-mer...”

  The doors opened and I dove off. Dear Lord. How could people work here?

  I hustled down the sterile white hall, lined in framed photos of the Happy Farmer employees and campus, to Angelina’s slightly opened door and knocked before swinging it wide.

  “Hello.” A beautiful woman with olive skin and sleek black hair pushed to her feet behind the desk. “Come in.” She motioned to the chair across from hers. “Thank you for coming on such little notice.”

  Well, that explained how I’d gotten in to see her so easily. She thought I was someone else.

  I extended a hand her way. “I’m Mia Connors, but I don’t think you are expecting me.”

  She raised perfectly sculpted brows. “Oh? May I ask why you’re here?”

  “Of course.” I lifted my chin. Could she be any taller? As if being beautiful and shapely enough to model lingerie wasn’t enough of a golden ticket to life, she had to be six feet tall, too? Maybe five ten, but still. She probably never had to have her jeans hemmed or ask for help reaching things while shopping.

  Her eyebrow inched higher.

  Right. Why was I in her office? “I dragged your ex-husband from a lake last night.”

  She clutched the pendant on her necklace. “What?”

  I cursed my inability to make small talk or negotiate tough conversations with grace. I wetted my lips and started again. “Dante Weiss made an appointment to meet with a Horseshoe Falls resident last night, but he never arrived.” Cold memories flashed in my mind. I took the chair to settle my stomach. “May I?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Is he...?” She let the notion linger.

  “He didn’t make it. I’m sorry.” I gripped the straps of my handbag for strength. Clearly, I hadn’t thought this through. Meeting new people was stressful. Telling a stranger I pulled their murdered ex-husband from a lake was the epitome of awful. Also, why hadn’t the police contacted her? Was it because they were divorced?

  We stared at one another. I’d plotted a clever line of questioning on my drive into town, but all those thoughts had vanished, eradicated by the obnoxious chorus trilling outside her door.

  Angelina looked away first. What did that mean?

  Think, Mia. What would Jake say? “Where were you at eight o’clock last night?” I pressed my lips together. She didn’t have to answer me and we both knew it.

  “Here. Working.” She raised glassy eyes and a troubled expression to meet my stare. “Why?”

  “Can anyone confirm that?”

  Her jaw dropped. She lifted her phone from her desk and wiggled it. “They track us.”

  I pulled my lips to the side. Why would employees agree to be tracked? “That’s an odd practice, isn’t it?” Was that the age we lived in? Employers tracked their employees? Why? To verify they stayed on task, or didn’t linger over potty breaks? George Orwell might have been a few decades off, but he’d seen this coming.

  Angelina dabbed a tissue to her eyes. “It’s a big campus.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  She lowered gracefully into her chair and crossed her too-long legs. “I can’t believe he’s dead.” Sincerity rang in her voice. She was shocked, and I’d delivered the news with the grace and humility of a drunk monkey.

  “You left Dante several heated messages recently. Do you have any idea what he was up to last night? When was the last time you saw him?”

  Distress turned to anger on her pretty face. “I didn’t kill my ex-husband, if that’s what you’re asking. Though whoever did probably had to fight for position in line.”

  “Are you saying you know of someone who wanted to hurt Dante?”

  “Everyone wanted to hurt Dante. He was a tyrant and a greedy bastard. Ask any of his clients. He made himself sound like their savior with his startup funds, then he cheerfully collected a chunk of their income forever as repayment. He made far more from his clients than he’d ever put up front, and he never stopped taking.”

  I inched forward on my seat. “I’m sure that was all spelled out in their contracts. They must have known what they were getting into. They agreed to the terms.” Everything had to have been done legally or the public would’ve heard about it. Someone would’ve sued. I’d checked him out thoroughly. No one had ever filed any complaints against him or his practice.

  “Legal doesn’t make it ethical.”

  That was sadly true.

  “If there’s nothing else, I think it’s time you go.”

  I scanned the room, desperate for a follow-up question before she forced me out. The room was tidy. Inbox clear. Pens lined up like soldiers. Framed photos of gardens and fresh produce adorned the walls. A plaque on her cabinet named her employee of the year three years ago. A manila folder from A-Res Labs mounted a stack of evenly piled papers.

  I stood slowly, formulating a parting question. The files brought her accusation back to mind. “Any particular clients of Dante’s who might want to hurt him?”

  “Yes. All of them.”

  “Can you narrow that down a little?” I could’ve found out on my own if every minute of my life wasn’t already spoken for, but this was quicker. “If you know something and don’t tell, it’s considered obstruction.”

  “Isn’t that your job?”

  And it hit me. She assumed I was with the police department. Not clearing that mistake up was probably also a crime, but I hadn’t introduced myself as a detective and she hadn’t asked, so I’d file this away and ask Marvin later. Lucky for me, Grandma’s boyfriend was an excellent attorney.

  Angelina huffed, seemingly disarmed by my silence. “Regency Antiques. Cornwall Sheets. Maggie’s Muffins. Little Timers. Like I said, ask anyone.”

  A knock fell on the door. “Ms. Weiss?”

  “Got it. Thanks.” I excused myself, repeating the list mentally as I passed a woman in a pantsuit and boarded the elevator. Inside I made a note on my phone to contact those companies first.

  I hastened across the soaring foyer, struggling not to press my hands to my ears, and jogged down the street to Le Bouchon.

  In accordance with my life, I was ten minutes late for lunch with Bree.

  And certain to hear about it.

  Chapter Five

  I tiptoe-ran through the first set of double doors and nearly toppled the doorman attempting to open the second for me.

  “Sorry!” I skittered to a stop at the podium and addressed the man peering down his nose at me. “My sister’s expecting me.”

  “Name?”

  “Mia Connors. No. You mean her name. Bree Connors.” I shook my head hard, begging my brain to catch up. “Bree Macangus.” Four years after their wedding, and I still struggled to think of Bree as anything other than a Connors.

  The man snapped his fingers.

  A maître d’ manifested. He smoothed his lapels and stuck his nose in the air. “This way.” He strolled slowly through the crowded room, shoulders back, head high. Overdressed couples and clots of men in golf gear filled the high-backed chairs surrounding tables dressed in black linens and anchored with floating candles in crystal vases.

  I longed to push him out of the way. Didn’t he realize I was late? I imagined Bree staring at a stopwatch, deciding my punishment. She’d be homicidal if he moved any slower.

  We turned a corner, breaching a private area where tables were farther apart and set more finely. Waiters stood along the perimeter, hands folded at their backs, awaiting their next summons.

  Delectable aromas of tangy red sauces and bu
ttery rolls tangoed in the air. My tummy sang in excitement, planning my menu. I’d devour a thick slice of lasagna and wipe the empty plate with a fat hunk of garlic bread.

  Bree’s laugh shocked me still.

  The maître d’ looked over one shoulder. “Madame?”

  “Right.” I regained my place at his heel, joy bubbling in my tummy. I was saved. Bree was smiling openmouthed at Nate. I’d live to see another day thanks to the world’s best friend ever.

  Bree turned a cold stare my way, as if she’d sensed me coming. She waved dismissive fingers at my escort. “Thank you.”

  He bowed and left.

  I took the chair beside Nate. Sitting next to Bree seemed risky.

  He stood until I was situated, then helped me with my chair. His crisp white shirt was rolled at the cuffs and unbuttoned at the neck, revealing freckled skin and matching white undershirt. Both emphasized his green eyes and ginger hair. “How are you feeling? Bree filled me in on all the crazy. I had no idea any of that went on last night or we would’ve come over to check on you.”

  Nate was now a “we.” If only he’d known then they’d have come. It was strange. Neither of us had ever been attached to anyone. The dynamic I’d grown comfortable with was changing. I rubbed my arms.

  Bree lifted her water glass and swirled the contents. “Welcome to my world, Nate. I wouldn’t have heard about it either, if Grandma hadn’t started the phone tree last night.” Her expression puckered. “Are those cats on your dress?”

  “It’s vintage.” The soft black material was cinched at the waist and sprinkled with cream-colored feline silhouettes. It was adorable. “Are those beach balls on your blouse?”

  She set her glass on the table with controlled effort. “They’re polka dots.”

  “Oh.” I nodded in mock agreement. “Must be the size of the framework that threw me off.”

  Nate coughed into his fist.

  I turned to him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I love hanging with you and Bree. You know that.” Translation: he liked the way Bree ruffled my feathers. “How’s the grant work coming along?” he asked her. “Have you finished the human sexuality study?” Another topic he knew made me wildly uncomfortable, not due to the topic so much as the way she used my identical face and body to research it. Last year, she’d played the role of harlot at Ye Ole Madrigal Craft Faire, and I ended up playing her in the burlesque routine she’d volunteered for, after she was poisoned by a lunatic bent on hurting me. Our relationship was complicated.