Driven to Ink

Chapter 30

“What do you think it means?”Sylvia asked as I stared at the receipt.

I had absolutely no clue, but ideas were starting to form.

“Why are you showing this to me?” I asked.

Sylvia sighed. “I haven’t told Jeff yet. About Ray. I don’t know how. And then Bernie hands this to me this morning. He said it was in the glove box in the Gremlin. I let Ray borrow the car last week. He must have left it there.”

Little bits of Ray Lucci were ending up in the oddest places. Sylvia’s car, my car.

I thought about what Tim would say.

“You should give this to Detective Flanigan,” I said. “Not me. It’s a clue.” It proved that Joel’s missing clip cord probably wasn’t the one that strangled Lucci. And it would be great if that little bit were cleared up, so we could all get on with our lives.

I couldn’t help but wonder, however, why Lucci would buy a clip cord. And if it was the one around his neck, how did his own cord get used against him? Just like how did he end up stealing my car and then end up in the trunk, with the car right back where Sylvia and Bernie had left it for me?

I tried not to think about Tim. How on earth could I possibly let this one go?

Sylvia tucked a stray hair in back of her ear. “I don’t want to get Ray in trouble.”

“But Ray is dead,” I said softly, and not unkindly.

Sylvia reached over and patted my hand. “I know that, dear.”

Sometimes I’m not sure what Sylvia knows or doesn’t. So I have to make sure.

“You need to tell Jeff about Ray,” I said.

“So you really think I should turn this over to that policeman?” Sylvia obviously wanted to change the subject. “He was dressed all fancy. Bernie says he doesn’t trust a policeman who’s got more money than he does. He thinks he’s on the take.”

On the take? What were we? In a Scorsese movie?

“I think you should give it to Detective Flanigan,” I said again, knowing Tim would be happy I was doing the right thing.

She picked up the last piece of her bagel and chewed slowly.

I’d put the receipt on the table and now picked it up again.

“He had it delivered to the chapel, not his home,” I said. “Where was he living?”

Sylvia touched the corners of her mouth with her finger, to brush away any leftover crumbs. “He had an apartment up in North Vegas.”

“Why wouldn’t he have the package delivered there, then?” As I asked the question, I realized the probable answer. He didn’t want it in his apartment. Did he plan to use the clip cord against someone else, who then used it against him?

My thoughts were all mixed up like a milk shake in a blender.

“Why would Ray need a clip cord?” Sylvia’s voice interrupted. “He could’ve asked to borrow one, if he needed one.”

If Ray was planning something that he didn’t want anyone to know about and he didn’t want anyone to know he had a clip cord, why be so careless and leave the receipt in the car?

Maybe he forgot about it. It’s not as if that doesn’t happen.

I looked at the receipt again. It had a customer account number on it. I hadn’t heard of Tattoo Inc., but there were a million Web sites that sold tattoo equipment. I could even contact the place where I get my equipment; maybe someone there had heard of it.

“Can I make a copy of this?” I asked Sylvia.

She nodded. “What are you going to do with it?”

I wasn’t sure exactly. I went into the small den off the living room, where we kept our printer, which was also a copy machine and a scanner. Amazing what a hundred bucks can get you these days.

I made a copy of the receipt and gave the original to Sylvia. “Detective Flanigan,” I said again.

“But I won’t tell him you have a copy.” Sylvia winked at me.

I smiled. “No, that might not be the best idea.”

“You’ve got a plan, don’t you, dear?”

“No-I don’t know,” I said. “We’ll see.” I looked at the wall clock. It was almost eleven. I needed to get into the shop. Sylvia saw me and got up, smoothing out her skirt as she stood.

I walked her to the door but stopped her before she went out.

“You need to tell Jeff about Ray,” I said. “Does Bernie know?”

She nodded.

“You need to tell Jeff. Today. Before Flanigan does.”

Sylvia squeezed my arm. “I know, dear. Thank you.” She shoved the receipt back in her pocket and went out to the car. I watched as she got in, started the engine, and backed out of the driveway.

When the little white car had disappeared around the corner, I went back into the house and found my laptop. I put the URL for Tattoo Inc. into the address field, and the site popped up immediately.

Tattoo Inc. promised all your tattoo needs would be met-at the lowest prices, of course. And as I perused the site, I wondered whether maybe I shouldn’t be changing my purchasing policies. These prices were far lower than what I was paying.

Granted, I’d have to talk about it with Bitsy. She did all the purchasing for the shop, and maybe she’d already found Tattoo Inc. and decided for some reason that it wasn’t worth saving a few pennies.

I went to “My Account,” entered Ray Lucci’s name and account number in the space allotted, and waited for the page to load.

When it finally opened, I couldn’t believe it.

Ray Lucci hadn’t ordered only a clip cord.

Three days ago, the day before he was killed, he’d ordered all the parts needed to build a tattoo machine. And he’d had them shipped to That’s Amore.