Dangerous Comforts (The Ruby Danger Series Book 3) Page 4

  Millie placed a trembling hand on Ruby’s arm.

  “I remember. Have you found Tinks?”

  “Not yet, but we’re going to look for her this morning. Do you know where she might be?”

  Millie contemplated her congealing porridge.

  “She’s never run away before. Never.”

  “What happened at your house, Millie?”

  Ruby had to lean in to hear her whispered reply.

  “Those men wanted to see Norris, and I didn’t know where he was, so they pushed me, and then Tinks…” Millie’s chest heaved and she sniffed.

  “Norris?” Ruby asked.

  “My son.”

  “Does he live with you at the house?”

  Millie shook her head.

  Ruby plucked a tissue box from the nightstand and offered it with a sympathetic shake of her head.

  “Did these men say why they wanted to see Norris?”

  “I don’t think so,” Millie said, taking a tissue. She wiped her nose and looked up at Ruby. “You won’t take Tinks to a shelter, will you?”

  Ruby shook her head vigorously.

  “Of course not. We’ll find Tinks and keep her safe until she’s back with you.”

  “Ruby, no,” Felicity whispered, “don’t make promises—”

  Ruby gave her a warning look and Felicity ducked her head.

  “Can you describe these men?” Ruby asked.

  “I can’t remember, I’m sorry.”

  “Had you ever seen them before?”

  Millie screwed up her face. “I don’t … remember.”

  “Could Norris be in trouble?” Ruby asked.

  Millie gave a start, and then gripped Ruby’s arm.

  “Is Norris in trouble?”

  “I don’t know. I was only asking if—”

  “He’s a good boy,” Millie said, releasing her grip. She absently swiped her nose again with the tissue while staring out the window.

  “It’s a mystery, then,” Ruby said softly, furrowing her brow. Then she smiled. She had never been able to resist a mystery.

  Felicity walked over to stand beside her.

  “Ruby, don’t get involved with this. As your agent, I have to warn you that the repercussions could—”

  Ruby looked up with a grin.

  “Be my friend today, Felicity, not my agent.”

  Felicity shook her head, the traces of a smile playing over her face. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “You’re not the first person to notice.” Ruby turned back to Millie and patted her arm. “Why don’t you give me your address so we can check your house to see if Tinks is there?” She pulled a small notepad from her purse, leaning in to hear Millie’s dry whisper, then jotted down the street and house number and replaced the notepad in her purse.

  She looked up as a white-coated man with a stethoscope looped around his neck charged into the room and tugged a clipboard from the bedrail. He rapidly flicked through the pages without looking up.

  “How are we doing this morning,” he flipped back to the top page, “Mrs. Havelock?”

  Millie regarded him gravely.

  “These girls are going to find Tinks.”

  “That’s great,” he said. “Any pain?”

  She shook her head.

  “Problems eating?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” He replaced the clipboard and hustled out.

  Ruby hurried after him.

  “Doctor?” He turned in the corridor to face her. “How is she, really?”

  “Her injuries aren’t serious, a few bumps and bruises, but she’s confused. Her medications are on file but we can’t tell if she’d been taking them as prescribed, so we’re adjusting the doses by trial and error.”

  “Is there anything we can do to help?”

  He shrugged. “I suppose if we had the actual pill bottles, we could check to see how many she’s taken since filling the prescription. It’s not essential, but it might speed the process.”

  Ruby walked back into the hospital room and sat on the bed.

  “Millie, can we borrow the key to your house? That way, Felicity and I could pick up your pills when we check on Tinks.”

  “It’s in my purse,” Millie said.

  “And where is that?”

  Tears welled in the elderly woman’s eyes.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Never mind, we’ll manage. I’ll come back later and let you know how we get on.”

  Millie gripped her arm.

  “Please, can you bring me my photos? From the mantel?”

  “I’ll do my best. Are these photos of Norris, by any chance?” Ruby asked. It might be useful if they knew what he looked like.

  Millie nodded, then leaned back on the pillow with her eyes closed.

  Ruby and Felicity tip-toed out. In the corridor, Felicity turned to face her.

  “Did you just promise a dying woman that we’ll search her house when we don’t even have a key? And that we’ll find her missing dog too, and,” she imitated Ruby’s voice, “‘keep her safe?’ Where are we going to do that? In our hotel room? I don’t think the Starlight even allows dogs.”

  Ruby placed both hands on her hips.

  “First,” she sputtered, “Millie is not dying. Second, she obviously ran out in a panic, so she won’t have locked the door. And third—we won’t tell the hotel about Tinks.” Thrusting out her chin, she marched to the elevator.

  * * *

  After stopping at a convenience store for dog biscuits, they pulled up outside Millie’s stucco bungalow. An aging sedan sat in the driveway and weeds poked through the pebbled front yard. As they headed up the cracked walkway, Ruby stopped to grab Felicity’s arm.

  “Look.” She pointed to the house. A tiny white dog pawed at the front door, whimpering. Ruby crept up the walk, crouched on the terrace by the door and held out a biscuit.

  “Tinks,” she said softly. “Tinks.”

  The Maltese turned to look at her, then trotted over and licked her hand, ignoring the biscuit. Tinks nestled into Ruby’s side with a whimper. But when Ruby picked her up, the little dog shrieked and nipped at her hand. She put her down and watched the Maltese scuttle back to the door.

  “I think something’s wrong with her.”

  Felicity peered at Tinks from the sidewalk.

  “She’s scared.”

  “It’s more than that. Look how carefully she’s moving. She’s injured.” Ruby tapped her fingers on the terrace, trying to get Tinks’s attention. She looked over her shoulder at Felicity.

  “Can you go back to the car and get that shawl I bought yesterday? It’s still on the back seat.”

  They spread the shawl over the terrace. Ruby lured Tinks onto it, wrapped her up and carried her to the car. She set the little dog on the back seat.

  “Wait here, Tinks.”

  The Maltese burrowed into the shawl. After opening the car windows, Ruby and Felicity walked back to the house. As they stepped onto the terrace, a bright yellow paper stapled to the front door caught their attention. Ruby opened the screen door and stared at the poster.

  foreclosure notice

  keep out

  The warning topped three columns of tiny type and a blurry stamped signature, Sheriff T—, Clark County, Nevada. Frowning, Ruby tapped the four-inch padlock attached to the door behind the screen. Millie’s pills and photos were in this house. How could she leave without them?

  Chapter Six

  Ruby ran her fingertips across the notice stapled to Millie Havelock’s front door.

  Beside her, Felicity turned back to the car.

  “So much for retrieving Millie’s meds.”

  “Hmm-mmm.” Propping the screen door open with her foot, Ruby studied the poster. Maybe the sheriff’s men were the ones who frightened Millie. And then slapped up a padlock and a notice without even bothering to find out what had happened to her. Ruby narrowed her eyes at the poster. Bast
ards. Slamming the screen door, she turned to follow Felicity back to the car. Then she halted.

  It made no sense. Why would the sheriff’s men be looking for Norris? He didn’t even live here, according to Millie. Ruby grimaced. Millie. The old woman didn’t yet know that she had lost her home. The least they could do was try to retrieve her photos.

  Felicity swiveled, saw the look on Ruby’s face, and walked back up beside her.

  “Look. It says,” she tapped the screen door with her forefinger, “Keep out. There’s nothing we can do.”

  “Hmm-mmm.” Ruby stepped off the terrace to duck across the yard.

  Felicity followed, still talking.

  “We’ll have to go back to the hospital and tell the doctor—”

  Ruby scurried around the side of the house.

  “Where are you going?” Felicity called, an edge of panic in her voice.

  Ruby looked over her shoulder.

  “Where do you think? To check the other door.”

  Felicity, wobbling slightly as she negotiated the pebbles and overgrown weeds in her three-inch heels, caught up with her on the back stoop.

  “Ruby—”

  Ruby slapped the door, grinning.

  “Ha. No padlock here. The sheriff must be slipping.” Crouching on the stoop, she rummaged in her shoulder bag for a small leather case. After extracting two thin metal tools from it, she stood up and bent over the door lock.

  Felicity gasped. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

  Ruby slid the lever into the keyhole’s lower portion. She inserted the pick above it while putting pressure on the lever, holding her breath as she felt for the pins at the top.

  Felicity gasped again.

  “Tell me you’re not breaking into this house.”

  The pick hit a seized pin and she worked at it until it slid up with an audible click. Halfway there. Biting her lip, she aligned three more loose pins and worked on the remaining seized pin until there was another click. She turned the handle, grinning at Felicity over her shoulder as the door opened.

  Felicity gaped at her.

  “Oh, my God. Where did you learn to do that?”

  “Sam Mitchell taught me. For a scene in Secret Assassin. Philippe said it would be more realistic if I knew how to pick a lock for real. This one was a cinch. Come on, hurry up.” Ruby stepped inside, held the door open and tilted her head at Felicity. “Was that wrong?”

  Felicity nervously looked to either side and followed her in.

  “Sam knows how to pick locks?”

  “He knows lots of stuff like that, you’d be surprised.” Ruby gave Felicity a sidelong glance as she closed the door. Or maybe not. She looked around. “Where should we start?”

  The bleached oak kitchen cabinets were far too spacious for Millie’s belongings. A battered aluminum kettle sat forlorn on the stove, an ancient toaster perched on the counter, and a three-foot-wide cabinet opening dwarfed the four-foot-high fridge that sat within it. Ruby opened the refrigerator door. A thick layer of ice coated the tiny freezer.

  “I’ve never seen a fridge without automatic defrost,” Felicity said over Ruby’s shoulder. She wrinkled her nose. “Something’s gone bad in there.”

  Ruby raised a finger to her own nose and closed the door.

  “No kidding.” She opened the upper cabinet doors. “I don’t see any prescription meds, do you?”

  “Maybe they’re in the bathroom.”

  “Good idea. Can you check?” Ruby bent to open a bottom cabinet. She crouched on the floor, pulling out dog food. Felicity hadn’t moved. Ruby looked up at her, a can of Dainty Dinner in her hand. “A little faster, please, Felicity. Strictly speaking, we’re not supposed to be here.”

  Felicity’s eyebrows shot up and her voice rose to match.

  “Of course we’re not supposed to be here. I just told you that.” She tugged at her ponytail and eyed the dog food. “We can’t take stuff out of here. I’m not sure it’s … legal.”

  Ruby rose to stack the cans on the table.

  “We have no choice. This is a medical emergency.”

  “That’s dog food,” Felicity said.

  “We’re here. Might as well take these.”

  Felicity threw up both hands and turned to the kitchen door.

  “I’ll check the bathroom for prescriptions. But after that we’re leaving.”

  Felicity’s heels clicked on the bare floors as she walked down the hall and into the bathroom. Ruby retrieved an empty cardboard box from the back door, dropped in the dog food, and carried it into the living room. A cremation urn stood out among the photos and knickknacks on the mantel. She placed it into the box along with the framed photos. One photo caught her eye so she picked it up for a better look.

  Felicity’s heels sounded in the hall again, coming back.

  “Millie must have a heart condition,” she called. “I recognize most of these from my Nana’s prescriptions.” She stepped into the living room, holding a plastic bag of bottles and jars, and halted. “What are you doing in here? I thought we agreed—”

  Ruby held up a photo of a young man in an army uniform.

  “I think this is Millie’s son. He’s in this other photo, too, but much younger. Mother and son look alike, don’t you think?” She opened the frame and pulled out the photo to read the inscription on the back. Millie and Norris, Grand Canyon, 1990. Ruby flipped the photo over. Norris was a teenager in this picture, but Millie’s hair was streaked with gray. “Norris must have been a late arrival.”

  Felicity pointed at the cardboard box.

  “What’s that?”

  Ruby followed her gesture.

  “A few of Millie’s things. She has nothing with her at the hospital, not even—” She snapped her fingers. “We should get clothes, too.” She brushed past Felicity on her way to the bedroom. Felicity grabbed her arm and hauled her back.

  “No, stop.”

  Ruby turned her head. Once she saw the look on her friend’s face, she swung around to face her.

  “Oh, come on, Felicity. Millie left this house with nothing. A few comforts can’t hurt.” She pointed at the urn that stuck out of the box. “Why would anybody want her husband’s ashes, for instance?”

  Felicity tipped her head back to stare at the ceiling and then straightened up with a sigh.

  “Okay, clothes. But that’s all. And I’ll get them.” She pointed to the cardboard box. “Take that to the car so we can leave.” Felicity disappeared down the hall, heels clicking.

  Ruby carried the box through the dining room to the unlocked back door, past a stack of documents that teetered on the dining table. She stopped and put the box on the table to rummage through the stack. A checkbook slid out. Millie Havelock was written on the front in a spidery hand. Ruby flipped through the first pages and stopped. Maybe she shouldn’t read this. She decided to add it to the box, but as she closed the checkbook one entry caught her eye. It was a check for $700, dated two months ago, marked Mortgage payment.

  She ran her finger down the list to the previous month. There it was again. Mortgage payment, another $700. The previous month showed an identical entry. In fact, according to her checkbook, Millie had made a $700 mortgage payment every month. Ruby frowned at the entries, her chest tightening. Why had she been evicted, then?

  Felicity tottered up to the dining table, clasping an armful of clothing to her chest. She dropped it into the cardboard box.

  “Nightgowns, underwear, sweaters, a couple of dresses. Let’s get out of here.”

  Ruby tossed the checkbook on top and picked up the box.

  “Right behind you.”

  Ruby stood outside with the box in her hands, waiting for Felicity to open the trunk of their car, and scanned the street again. No one was stirring. It was still early, but you’d think someone would wonder why strangers were standing outside their neighbor’s foreclosed home.

  The early morning sun was pleasant, but hot enough to signal a scorching day a
head. Ruby strained her head toward the leaves rustling above her, but the breeze remained out of her reach. This was not the way she had expected to spend her precious break. She had envisaged fruit drinks in a cabana by a deep turquoise pool. Never had she pictured herself outside an elderly stranger’s padlocked home, waiting to toss her most cherished belongings into a rented Audi. The trunk popped open and Ruby placed the box inside, grinning. She was on the track of a mystery, and that was so much more intriguing than lounging for endless hours by a pool.

  Felicity snapped the trunk shut.

  “Let’s go,” she said, turning to the passenger door.

  “Wait. I think I see someone.” Ruby glanced at the house next door and immediately looked away again. She swiveled her eyes to point out the house to Felicity. Felicity swung her head to see what she was staring at.

  “Don’t look,” Ruby blurted.

  Under the pretense of checking her shoe, Ruby studied the house. She had caught movement out of the corner of her eye. And there it was again, a flutter in the window. A woman had drawn back the curtain and stood behind it, staring at them.

  Ruby straightened up.

  “I’m going to talk to her.” She took a few steps toward the house, but turned at the sound of a short siren blast. A police car pulled up behind the Audi and stopped.

  Two armed men in beige short-sleeved uniforms walked over. The older one took off his cap, revealing a severe brush cut that drew attention to his knitted brows and sharp nose.

  Tucking a thumb into his belt, he glared at Ruby.

  “What’s going on here?”

  Chapter Seven

  London

  With a heavy heart, Hari reached into the first-floor coat closet to retrieve the tweed sports jacket he had stashed there when he first arrived in London. Dinner. That meant conversation. He slipped the jacket over his shirt and jeans and headed next door. Maybe he could leave early.

  Jayden opened the door, sniffed, and then held the door open with a gesture at the interior. Hari walked past him and into the front room, where Watson was on his feet with a glass of Scotch in his hand.