Free Traci Tyne Hilton - Mitzi Neuhaus 04 - Frozen Assets by Traci Tyne Hilton Page A

right one.”
    “Nah,” Alonzo said. “By the time we get there, word will have spread. The first house we go to will direct us to the right one.”
    Mitzy moved to the window. The sky was darkening, but there was no rain or snow. “If we go now we can stay relatively dry.”
    Alonzo shoved his phone in his pocket. “Let’s get this done.”
    ***
     
    Alonzo was right. They parked on a side street and went to the first little house promising palmistry. They were met at the door, and pointed to a small Old Portland house a half a block away. It had a blinking neon sign that said Tarot.
    Mitzy held Alonzo’s hand at the door. Cars whizzed past them on Sandy, and the clouds had begun to spit their demoralizing sleet after all. The door creaked open, and a round face peered up at them.
    A short, thick woman whose black curls were sprayed firmly in place and added a few inches to her height waved them inside. The room was lit by several tall brass table lamps and a scattering of candles on a fireplace mantel. Neither the candles nor the incense that smoked on a side table masked the scent of garlicky dinners past and unwashed humanity.
    “I don’t want to mess around with a card reading or any of that.” Alonzo stood in the doorway, his feet far apart and his arms crossed on his chest. “Just tell us what you know and we’ll get out of your hair.”
    Mitzy jabbed him with her elbow. “Forgive us,” she said.
    The woman nodded. She took Mitzy’s hand and led her to a table.
    “I can read your cards, but I don’t know that I can tell you what you want to hear.” She had a peculiar, round accent with a slight lisp. Mitzy knew it for the local Gypsy accent—as she knew that this community preferred to be called Gypsy rather than Romany.
    “No. You know why we are here. What did you see on Concord Street on the night of December 2nd?” Alonzo did not move an inch.
    “Al…” Mitzy lifted her eyebrow. She wanted to play along, to massage the situation and ease the information she wanted from this woman.
    The psychic sat down on a threadbare, tan sofa. “I was sleeping when Charlie drove away from that place.”
    “And?” Alonzo said.
    “And he told me to tell you that he didn’t see nothing.” She crossed her arms over her ample bosom.
    Mitzy sat on the same sofa, facing the psychic. She gave Alonzo a warning look. “But maybe the cards could tell us something?”
    The psychic waved her hand. “Bah. That’s not why you are here.”
    “Charlie sent us to talk to you. What did he want you to tell us?” Alonzo’s voice was a growl.
    The psychic simpered. “He said to tell you that Santa’s elf let him down.” She quirked her lip into a sorry kind of smile.
    “Does that mean there were two men at the house?” Mitzy leaned forward, wishing she knew what would speak respect to this woman.
    “Santa’s elf, eh?” Alonzo took a step closer. “So one man was on the roof—er—the balcony, but the other wasn’t?”
    The psychic lifted an eyebrow. “St. Nicholas doesn’t come when you are awake, does he? I was asleep, so how should I know?”
    Mitzy chewed on her bottom lip. “But there were definitely two men there?”
    The psychic shrugged.
    “Don’t mess with us. This was a murder. We want to know what you know.” Alonzo leaned forward.
    The psychic fluttered her eyelashes.
    Mitzy caught Alonzo’s eye and curled her lip, ever so slightly, in disgust.
    He hinted at a smirk.
    “Two men, one up high, but not on the roof. The other down on the ground. The man up high wasn’t on the roof, so he was on the… balcony, of course. Is that right?”
    The psychic simpered again. “You are a very smart man.”
    “And if the elf let Santa down, then Santa was Arnold English.” Alonzo pulled a chair out from the table and straddled it, his arms crossed on the back. “Who was the other man?”
    “He was a very big elf. A big elf with a red hat. But really, I don’t know anything. I was asleep, as I