think so.’
I thought for a moment and then plowed ahead. Why not? I had to ask it. ‘Was he involved in anything…illegal?’
A guarded look came over her face. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, anything to do with the mob, for example?’
She gasped. ‘Are you talking about the mafia?’ She began shredding the napkins.
‘Yes.’ I sank back in the chair, observing her carefully.
She blinked at me, astonished. ‘No! Dad would never do anything like that.’
‘Is there a Mrs. Fandango?’
‘No. Why?’
‘Well, if anything has happened to him, I’m just trying to establish who stands to inherit his vast fortune.’
She dabbed at her eyes with a tiny morsel of shredded tissue. ‘That would be me.’
‘Do you know where he kept his will?’
‘Probably in the office safe, at his house.’
‘Do you know the name of his lawyer?’
She sniffled. ‘No…oh, wait a minute. I think the name sounded a bit like a cake.’ She pursed her lips together and stared into space for a moment. ‘No, sorry. I can’t remember.’ She patted her eyes and looked down at the shredded remains of her paper napkin like she couldn’t remember doing it.
‘Well, can you think of anything else that might help?’
She thought long and hard, finally giving me a firm shake of her head.
I paid the bill and ducked out of Starbucks while Tia rearranged her make-up in the restroom, just in case she decided to follow me. Either she really didn’t know anything and was genuinely upset, or she was a good actress. I hadn’t made up my mind yet. For all I knew, she might not even be Fandango’s daughter. I’d know more after I made a few phone calls.
****
It was late afternoon when I arrived back at the old flour mill. The car park was empty, and the building looked unoccupied. From my tour with Fandango, I knew all the security codes for the keypad entry system, so after checking to make sure the coast was clear, I let myself in.
My first stop was Fandango’s office. I sat at his desk, switched on his computer, and had started rifling through the papers on the desk when I heard a door slam somewhere outside. I froze for a second in disbelief when I heard the familiar clack of heels on the floor outside the office. No doubt, they were coming my way. My heart flip-flopped around in my chest as I looked for somewhere to hide. The desk was made of glass, so, unless I could make myself invisible, hiding underneath it would be a dead giveaway.
Crappy-doo-dah! I was going to get busted. I frantically scanned the room, hoping for a big black hole to suddenly open up and swallow me. Two seconds later, it still hadn’t, and I heard the beeps of the keypad lock on the other side of the door.
I launched myself behind the silver sofa as the door clicked and swung open. I could hear my breath rushing in and out and, as the heel-wearer came into the office, I caught a whiff of the now familiar, otherwise unusual perfume. It was the same stuff I’d smelled earlier in the day.
Shooting up from behind the couch, I came face to face with Tia.
‘Aagh!’ she screeched, rearing back in surprise.
Three thoughts ignited in my brain. One, she was here to batter me to death with the furry rodent bag. Two, she was trying to cover her tracks by getting rid of evidence, or three, she was doing the same as me – trying to find the missing fashion designer.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ I hissed.
‘Looking for a clue,’ she hissed back.
‘I thought I told you not to follow me!’
She looked like she was about to cry any second. I felt bad for even suspecting her of wanting to do me harm. I threw my hands up in the air in a hopeless gesture. ‘Well, seeing as you’re here, you can stand guard.’ I sat back down at Fandango’s desk and tapped away on the keyboard, looking on his computer for anything that said clue in big, bold letters on it.
‘I can help you look.’ She picked something up off the desk. ‘What about
I thought for a moment and then plowed ahead. Why not? I had to ask it. ‘Was he involved in anything…illegal?’
A guarded look came over her face. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, anything to do with the mob, for example?’
She gasped. ‘Are you talking about the mafia?’ She began shredding the napkins.
‘Yes.’ I sank back in the chair, observing her carefully.
She blinked at me, astonished. ‘No! Dad would never do anything like that.’
‘Is there a Mrs. Fandango?’
‘No. Why?’
‘Well, if anything has happened to him, I’m just trying to establish who stands to inherit his vast fortune.’
She dabbed at her eyes with a tiny morsel of shredded tissue. ‘That would be me.’
‘Do you know where he kept his will?’
‘Probably in the office safe, at his house.’
‘Do you know the name of his lawyer?’
She sniffled. ‘No…oh, wait a minute. I think the name sounded a bit like a cake.’ She pursed her lips together and stared into space for a moment. ‘No, sorry. I can’t remember.’ She patted her eyes and looked down at the shredded remains of her paper napkin like she couldn’t remember doing it.
‘Well, can you think of anything else that might help?’
She thought long and hard, finally giving me a firm shake of her head.
I paid the bill and ducked out of Starbucks while Tia rearranged her make-up in the restroom, just in case she decided to follow me. Either she really didn’t know anything and was genuinely upset, or she was a good actress. I hadn’t made up my mind yet. For all I knew, she might not even be Fandango’s daughter. I’d know more after I made a few phone calls.
****
It was late afternoon when I arrived back at the old flour mill. The car park was empty, and the building looked unoccupied. From my tour with Fandango, I knew all the security codes for the keypad entry system, so after checking to make sure the coast was clear, I let myself in.
My first stop was Fandango’s office. I sat at his desk, switched on his computer, and had started rifling through the papers on the desk when I heard a door slam somewhere outside. I froze for a second in disbelief when I heard the familiar clack of heels on the floor outside the office. No doubt, they were coming my way. My heart flip-flopped around in my chest as I looked for somewhere to hide. The desk was made of glass, so, unless I could make myself invisible, hiding underneath it would be a dead giveaway.
Crappy-doo-dah! I was going to get busted. I frantically scanned the room, hoping for a big black hole to suddenly open up and swallow me. Two seconds later, it still hadn’t, and I heard the beeps of the keypad lock on the other side of the door.
I launched myself behind the silver sofa as the door clicked and swung open. I could hear my breath rushing in and out and, as the heel-wearer came into the office, I caught a whiff of the now familiar, otherwise unusual perfume. It was the same stuff I’d smelled earlier in the day.
Shooting up from behind the couch, I came face to face with Tia.
‘Aagh!’ she screeched, rearing back in surprise.
Three thoughts ignited in my brain. One, she was here to batter me to death with the furry rodent bag. Two, she was trying to cover her tracks by getting rid of evidence, or three, she was doing the same as me – trying to find the missing fashion designer.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ I hissed.
‘Looking for a clue,’ she hissed back.
‘I thought I told you not to follow me!’
She looked like she was about to cry any second. I felt bad for even suspecting her of wanting to do me harm. I threw my hands up in the air in a hopeless gesture. ‘Well, seeing as you’re here, you can stand guard.’ I sat back down at Fandango’s desk and tapped away on the keyboard, looking on his computer for anything that said clue in big, bold letters on it.
‘I can help you look.’ She picked something up off the desk. ‘What about
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