Read Where's Hansel and Gretel's Gingerbread House?: A Gabby Grimm Fairy Tale Mystery #2 Page 10


  Chapter Ten --

  “You want me to what?” That was the first thing out of my cousin’s mouth when I arrived back at the farmhouse. She was incredulous. Not to mention furious. I thought she was going to take a chunk out of me. “You must be joking.”

  Ervina and Gerhard met us there a few minutes later, so I could go over the plan. They would handle the FBI when the agents arrived to accept possession of the gingerbread house, taking them to collect it at the winery. Hopefully, that would give us enough time to walk into the Albany field office, toting the original gingerbread house, the photocopies, and the photos on the phone I bought, to offer our services in bringing down Frist and Company.

  “No, Nettie. I am not joking. We have to do this, not just for you, but also to prevent Frist from getting away with his scheme.”

  “But how do you know he’s involved?” There was disbelief written all over her face. Jondahl predicted she would be skeptical. Part of the reason she was suspected of being a co-conspirator by the FBI was that she was a champion of her boss and her company. We expected her to deny any possibility of wrongdoing by Kevin Frist and she did, talking about all the charity work he did and the scholarships he funded. By the time she finished, I was almost convinced the man walked on water and turned the water into wine.

  “I’ll explain it on the way,” I promised, “but we have to go now. Ervina, can we borrow the cheese van?”

  “Of course. I put gas in it yesterday.” She went to the key rack and pulled down a key chain with a plastic cow dangling from the silver ring. “Take good care of her.”

  That was “Ervina speak” for don’t get shot at or run off the road, her way of telling me she would worry about us the whole time we were gone. Far from being the archetypical evil stepmother, she was a very warm, caring person, and sometimes that made my job as a deputy even harder. Lord knows I didn’t plan on throwing myself into danger on a daily basis, but sometimes it’s just what happens when bad guys do what they do. I occasionally managed to keep the less serious incidents from her, but in the case of the tumble off the roof of the Kinsey Building, some idiot by the name of Earl shot his big, fat mouth off and asked her how I was the next day at the post office. I had a very frantic stepmother on my doorstep at nine in the morning, wanting to make sure I was still alive and kicking.

  “This is nuts,” Annette announced, shaking her head as she pulled on her parka. She was still glaring at all of us, annoyed that Gerhard and Ervina were in agreement with me. “It will never work, Gabby.”

  “It has to work. The FBI is planning to force you into becoming an informant by threatening to charge you with federal offenses. We’re going to grab that bull by the horns and take charge of the situation, so we can better control the outcome. We want you to look like a heroine, not some floozy who can’t keep her panties on.”

  “Gabby!” The woman was positively apoplectic. But let’s be honest. Her post-husband interludes with men were less than stellar. Having been someone’s wife for so long, she was out of practice with the dating game, and that made her look like bait to the circling sharks.

  “Nettie!” I returned fire.

  “That was unnecessary!”

  “On the contrary, it was very necessary. You’re in deep doo-doo and we’re doing this to get you out. Unless you want everyone to find out that you slept with Willy Boy!” I gave her another dose of reality to help her understand just how embarrassing this was going to get if we didn’t make this work. Sometimes ripping that Band-Aid off quickly yields the best results. If she was appalled that Gerhard and Ervina knew about her sex-capades, how was she going to feel when it was in all the newspapers during the trial?

  “How dare you!” Those big blue eyes were blazing, her fists were tightly clenched, and for a fleeting moment, I actually thought my cousin was going to slug me.

  “You slept with the FBI agent on the case?” Thank you, Gerhard, for putting two and two together and shouting out the answer. “What were you thinking?”

  “I didn’t know he was an FBI agent!” she cried, like a wounded bear.

  “He took advantage of you?” Ervina wanted to know. “That wasn’t very nice.”

  “Yes. I was used. He fooled me.” Perfect. She walked right into the “I was a victim because I am an idiot” scenario. Even as my cousin defiantly stood her ground, my stepmother shook her head sadly.

  “Nettie, that’s no good. You sound like a loose woman who sleeps with every Tom, Dick, and Harry.” That was the wonderful thing about Ervina. Good-hearted, decent, she understood a lot more about people than most of us.

  “Not to mention Joe,” I pointed out helpfully. “And don’t forget Pete.”

  “How many men were there?” my father wondered. He’s rather old-fashioned and circumspect, believing that people should control their passions in a reasonable fashion. It’s not that he’s a prude. He just thinks you shouldn’t discuss your steamy sex-ploits of swinging on the chandelier or share photos of your naked water skiing adventures on Lake Champlain in mixed company.

  “You’re just plain mean!” Here come the waterworks, I warned myself. Annette was always good at turning on that faucet when all else failed. I went to the hallway and I grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on the bachelor’s chest there. Returning to the kitchen, I thrust my hand out, the tissues flapping like a white flag. She snatched them out of my fingers and drew them up to her damp eyes, dabbing delicately. Classic stage performance. It wasn’t going to work today. Time to kick some sense into her.

  “You don’t think the defense attorneys will bring that up on the stand? Or that Rita Maloney, the Assistant United States Attorney will keep that quiet if you don’t give her what she wants? We need to control the damage on this, Nettie. That was part of the sheriff’s reason for getting some legal advice from Ronny Glieb, the defense attorney. Rufus doesn’t want your reputation smeared all over Manhattan, and mine with it.”

  The death glare my cousin shot me would have been really scary had I been a civilian, but I’ve worked in law enforcement circles a long time. I know that sharks are born swimming, they have really sharp teeth, and if you don’t keep up, you become chum. I wasn’t about to leave my cousin dangling on that federal fish hook. I was going to reel her back in the boat in once and for all. We were going to march into that office with the evidence in hand and present it like we had no idea that Joe Fortuna and Will Jondahl were one and the same man. And then, if we were lucky, the FBI would arrange for my cousin to work with their inside guy.

  The drive was quiet, thanks to the wet blanket sulking in the passenger seat. I put my foot on the accelerator once we were on I-87 and never let up. Annette slouched down lower than a teenager who’s grounded for the big dance, so I waited until she thawed out a bit before I explained about Will. She took it about the way I expected, calling him every name in the book and likening his morals to those of Jack the Ripper. I let her get it out of her system before I laid out the plan.

  “We want the FBI to suggest that you help him build the case.”

  “But that means I have to go back to Manhattan!”

  “Yes, Annette, it does. I’m really sorry.” I kept my tone even and my eyes on the road. “It also means you have to act surprised when you find out that he’s not Joe Fortuna, Frist employee, but actually an FBI agent.”

  “I hate that bastard!” she growled. “Wait until I get my hands on him! I will lay him out in lavender.”

  “For God’s sake, restrain yourself from threatening to kill the guy. Must I remind you that assault on a federal agent is a serious crime? You do not want to display any hostility to Will, Nettie. That’s a sure giveaway that you two were more than just co-workers at Frist. This is going to take some serious acting skills.”

  “I still want to....”

  “You really are dumb when it comes to men,” I declared, hoping to distract her away from Will Jondahl’s lesser qualities.

  “Excuse me? This from the woman wh
o has never been married? Who are you to give me advice on men? At least I was married to one!”

  “Ouch! I stand corrected. You’re a real expert on the male species. That’s why you shed your panties faster than a co-ed on spring break in Cozumel. What’s next? A wet tee shirt contest at the local grocery store? Boinking against the bookshelves at the New York Public Library? Mimicking Rodin’s lovers statue in the sculpture gallery at the Metropolitan?”

  “You,” she sniffed with an air of great disdain, “are a real stinker, Gabriella!”

  “Do you want to know a secret, or are you going to spend the entire ride being your obstinate self?”

  “What secret could you have that I would possibly be interested in?” she scoffed. There she went, picking that imaginary lint off her lap again. She was like a porcupine, all her quills ruffled and ready to inflict some serious pain if I got too close.

  “Will is sweet on you.”

  “What? How can you possibly say that after what that bastard did to me? Are you defending him?”

  “Heavens, no!” That made me laugh. “He doesn’t even know it, but he is. Do you know why he disappeared? He was afraid that if you would wind up as an FBI informant. He wanted you to run to me for help. Will knew the FBI wanted to flip you, kiddo. He said several times that you were a decent woman. That’s cop speak for someone who deserves protection.”

  “You’re just saying that to get me to do what you want me to do!” There it was. Annette convinced herself that I was playing her as a deputy, to get her to do what I wanted her to do to make my case. Time for an attitude adjustment.

  “You know what? I’ve had enough of this. You want to handle this on your own, that’s fine with me. We’ll go back to Latimer Falls and you can surrender to those FBI agents when they come to collect the gingerbread house. And you and Will can both self-destruct from your bad behavior. Knock yourselves out.” I put my blinker on, as if I were going to take the next exit. I was just about to turn off when she stopped me.

  “Wait.” It was just one word, but I took it as a hopeful sign. I drove past the exit, waiting for her to make a commitment to the plan. I let the silence go on, putting the onus on her to speak. “How do you know he’s sincere?”

  “Honestly? He doesn’t even know that he’s broadcasting his feelings for you in every word he says. He feels really guilty that he compromised your virtue by sleeping with you. And he’s been doing things for you ever since he met you. He got your purse back after you were robbed. He transferred the photos of Paul from your cell phone. He even shot at those thugs at the Mobil station.”

  “That was Will?”

  “That was him, Nettie. He was following us to make sure we were safe. He said you talked about me and Sam a lot, so he knew I would help you. Does that sound like a cold, heartless bastard?”

  “I suppose not.” Her voice was calmer now. She was rolling the idea of Will’s affection for her around in her mind. I wondered if that ball would remain in play or go out of bounds.

  “Look, Nettie, I know this has been a really, really hard year for you. Paul was sick for a long time before he died. You’re a healthy woman with needs. I get that. But you’ve been out of circulation for a long time. You’re out of practice with dating. You have to be a little more cautious. You don’t just sleep with a guy because you’re horny, not unless that’s all you want to have. Look at the guy’s character. Check him out thoroughly. Test the waters before you dive in. No guy is ever going to replace Paul. But that doesn’t mean that when you’re ready, down the road, you can’t find a new love, someone who will adore you for you.”

  “I don’t even know how to date any more, Gabby. I thought that’s what men want in a woman.”

  “What, sex?” I laughed as she nodded. “Of course they want sex. They’re men. But they also want to have fun. The good ones want someone to talk to, to share with, to trust. Let’s be honest. Paul liked sex, didn’t he?”

  “And then some. I miss all that lust, Gabby.”

  “Of course you do. But you didn’t just dive into that bed, did you? It took time for you and Paul to find your rhythm, to mesh as a couple. You waited to have sex, until you were sure there was more than just that spark, right?”

  “He pestered me for three months, day and night. I used to call him ‘Octopus Hands’. And then one day we were talking about the future. He started telling me what he was seeking out of life and I suddenly realized he wanted me.” A small, wistful smile crossed her face as she fondly remembered the old days with Paul, and then it disappeared quickly, as the new reality of her life returned to her conscious mind.

  “A good relationship takes time to develop,” I reminded her. “You have to test each other. You have to really know the other person. Otherwise, you’ll get blindsided, and when the going gets tough, you might find your partner takes a powder.”

  “I thought Will already did,” she admitted.

  “In a way. But he really did it to protect you, Nettie. He knows that when the FBI spends that much of its budget and uses that many resources to make a case, the Department of Justice expects the prosecution to be successful. That makes the attorneys involved rather ruthless. Will didn’t want you to be coerced into cooperating.”

  “And how is what you are doing now any different? Aren’t you expecting me to cooperate with the FBI?”