The Treacherous Teddy Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Twenty-six

  Twenty-seven

  Twenty-eight

  Twenty-nine

  A TEDDY BEAR ARTISAN PROFILE

  Afterword

  Praise for the Bear Collector’s Mysteries

  “An unusual—and pleasant—hybrid of cozy and police procedural.”

  —Cozy Library

  “You don’t need to be a bear collector to enjoy this lively and well-plotted series.”

  —CA Reviews

  The Clockwork Teddy

  “An exceptional mystery and highly recommended.”

  —Mysterious Reviews (One of Mysterious Reviews’ Best Mysteries of the Year)

  “The author sprinkles clues and red herrings throughout, making the mystery potentially but not easily solved by the reader. This well-done mystery will keep readers “bear”-ly hanging on.”

  —The New Mystery Reader

  “There’s some amazing twists and turns that keep the reader guessing almost to the end . . . The book may center around teddy bears but that doesn’t mean you don’t get adventure, suspense, and a convoluted mystery to keep you turning the pages.”

  —Gumshoe Review

  “The Teddy Bear Collector’s Mysteries uniquely meld the cozy with the police procedural, yielding a strangely intriguing amalgam . . . If the hardcore elements of this mystery don’t appeal, you might find satisfaction in its cozy components.”

  —Mystery Scene

  “Very tightly plotted . . . The change in location makes this a great place for newcomers to start, and longtime readers will enjoy watching Brad in his old stomping grounds.”

  —CA Reviews

  “The best yet. John J. Lamb’s writing and plotting continue to be top-notch—and he really ratcheted up the suspense in this story. Mr. Lamb’s many fans (and I’m one) hope this series has a long, long life.”

  —Cozy Library

  The Crafty Teddy

  “Don’t be fooled by the teddy bear theme. Lamb’s mysteries are full-bodied police procedurals, and the identity of the primary villain will come as a real surprise.”

  —Richmond Times-Dispatch

  “A page-turner . . . [with] plenty of action. This is an original, refreshing change in the overcrowded amateur-sleuth genre.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Be warned that if you pick this book up, you won’t put it down until you’ve finished reading it . . . You’ll want to read every one of the books in the series—and jump into the world of teddy bear collecting, murder, and intriguing mystery.”

  —Armchair Interviews

  “The story skips along with plenty of humor, interesting and unusual characters, recognizable scenery, and quick-paced action.”

  —The Fredericksburg (VA) Free Lance-Star

  “Full of interesting information on teddy bear lore (including a profile of a genuine teddy bear artisan at the end of each novel), a complex and interesting mystery, and a macabre and twisted sense of humor.”

  —Gumshoe Review

  The False-Hearted Teddy

  “With a quick-moving plot that’s neither too cozy nor too hard-boiled, a likable sleuth, and an original premise, Lamb has another honey of a mystery.”

  —Richmond Times-Dispatch

  “A quirky but surprising read, and one that readers who prefer a little plush to gore should relish.”

  —The Carlisle (PA) Sentinel

  “A fast-paced trip . . . Mystery fans will follow the twists and turns of this tightly woven tale with pleasure.”

  —Teddy Bear and Friends

  “A fast and fun romp into murder and mayhem . . . An enjoyable read.”

  —Armchair Interviews

  “Both story and dialogue are fast paced . . . I finished

  The False-Hearted Teddy in one lazy afternoon because

  I couldn’t put it down.”

  —Cozy Library

  “John J. Lamb will drive you absolutely ursine with his series of Bear Collector’s Mysteries.”

  —Raleigh News & Observer

  “The False Hearted Teddy can’t help but make you smile and want to read more of this series.”

  —ReviewingTheEvidence.com

  The Mournful Teddy

  “Once you start, you can’t bear to miss a teddy mystery.”

  —Rita Mae Brown, New York Times bestselling author of the Mrs. Murphy Mysteries

  “A smart debut.”

  —Mystery Scene

  “[Lamb] provides readers with a delightful whodunit that more than just bear collectors will enjoy.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “Skillfully blends elements of the traditional cozy with the gritty instincts of a tough but tender ex-homicide detective . . . The Mournful Teddy is one teddy bear you won’t take for granted.”

  —Ellen Byerrum, author of the Crime of Fashion Mysteries

  “The Mournful Teddy is a cozy police procedural, an unusual but not unheard-of combination. The author has pulled it off so well . . . I look forward to many more in the series.”

  —Mystery News

  “Entertaining . . . A fun romp . . . [Lamb] evokes the beauty of the valley while creating characters and a puzzle worthy of the setting. Fans will need to bear patiently the wait for the Lyons’ next outing.”

  —Richmond Times-Dispatch

  “The Mournful Teddy is a fur ball of fun. There’ll be no hibernating once you start reading it. Best of all, it’s the first in Lamb’s Bear Collectors’ series.”

  —Harrisburg (PA) Patriot-News

  “This is the start of a series and already I want to know more about these people and their lives; so I look forward to the next adventure and to learning more about bears.”

  —Gumshoe Review

  “The unique mystery surrounding collectible teddy bears provides this cozy an element of fun that is hard to find. The author’s personal experience as a police officer shines through the tale and lends an air of unmistakable authority.”—The Romance Readers Connection

  “The Mournful Teddy is a cozy police procedural . . . The author has pulled it off so well—and with subtle humor—that I predict readers of both subgenres will find it more than satisfying.”

  —Cozy Library

  Berkley Prime Crime titles by John J. Lamb

  THE MOURNFUL TEDDY

  THE FALSE-HEARTED TEDDY

  THE CRAFTY TEDDY

  THE CLOCKWORK TEDDY

  THE TREACHEROUS TEDDY

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc. 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australi
a (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

  Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India

  Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  THE TREACHEROUS TEDDY

  A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / September 2009

  Copyright © 2009 by John J. Lamb.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-13998-1

  BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME

  Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME and the PRIME CRIME logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  Dedicated to the memory of our sweet and beloved

  four-footed kids . . .

  Baby Bear, Kristen Noel, Laddy (AKA Kitchener),

  and Cammie

  One

  I like the gentle patter of raindrops against the window. The sound is soothing, but tonight it made me edgy.

  It was early evening on a Thursday in the first week of November, and after nearly three weeks of unseasonably warm and dry weather in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, a light rain had begun to fall. I was upstairs in our workroom, putting the finishing touches on my newest teddy bear, while unsuccessfully trying to keep my mind off the fact that the first few hours of a rainstorm turns the roads as slick as a politician’s answer to an unwelcome question. Ordinarily, I don’t worry about highway conditions while sitting at home, but tonight my wife, Ashleigh, was out in a patrol car, working as an auxiliary deputy for the Massanutten County Sheriff’s Office.

  I glanced at the police scanner on the shelf above the big worktable. The device had been quiet for about the past ten minutes, but I knew the silence couldn’t last. Gene Kelly sang in the rain, but folks around here speed in the rain, and it’s the rare storm that doesn’t produce at least one horrific traffic collision that looks as if a tactical nuclear weapon caused the damage. As a consequence, I knew it was merely a matter of time until the sheriff’s dispatcher sent Ash out to a major crash scene. Then I’d have something new to fret about.

  I realized that I was learning something my wife had discovered more than twenty-seven years ago: being married to a cop was often scary. Unfortunately, I wasn’t handling the stress as well as she had.

  My name is Brad Lyon and I used to be a homicide inspector with the San Francisco Police Department until a murder suspect’s BFB—big freaking bullet—pretty much destroyed my left shin. The orthopedic surgeon did what he could to repair the damage and I diligently rehabbed my leg, but it was a long and painful exercise in futility. I was forced into early retirement from the PD three years ago when it became clear that I’d always have a bad limp and need a cane if I wanted to walk any more than a few feet. Afterward, we’d relocated to Ash’s hometown of Remmelkemp Mill, Virginia, where we now lived in a hundred-year-old farmhouse beside the South Fork of the Shenandoah River. Then, under her gentle tutelage, I’d followed my wife into an improbable yet satisfying second career as a teddy bear artist.

  I wasn’t the only one reinventing my life, however.

  Over the past two years, Ash and I had assisted the local sheriff’s office with a couple of murder investigations, and those experiences had whetted my wife’s previously unsuspected appetite for police work. She’d become a volunteer deputy sheriff and quickly demonstrated that she was a born street cop. Indeed, her performance was so outstanding that Tina Barron, the sheriff of Massanutten County and a good friend of ours, had recently asked my wife to join the force as a full-time deputy.

  Ash had declined the offer, but I knew my wife was utterly hooked on cop work. Our discussions over morning coffee were once mostly about teddy bears and the shows we were going to attend. Now the topics were just as likely to be interrogation techniques or crime scene analysis, as my wife picked my brain. I just hoped she hadn’t passed on the permanent position with the sheriff’s office because she thought I’d be unhappy with our reversed roles.

  That wasn’t the case. In fact, I was damn proud of her and wanted to provide her with the same opportunity she’d given me when we were first married. Back then, Ash had put her life and personal goals on hold to raise our two children, who are now grown and I’m glad to report are self-sufficient and successful adults. Our son, Christopher, is a vintner at a winery in Missouri, while his older sister, Heather, followed in my footsteps and is a detective with SFPD. Ash deserves all the credit for how our kids turned out. She managed our household while I pursued a rewarding career. It was finally her turn to chase a dream and I’d support her in whatever way I could, which I suppose included learning to deal with my apprehensions.

  I forced myself to concentrate on the Bernina sewing machine and the small pieces of black fabric that I was stitching together to create a miniature sports jacket for Bear-atio Caine, my teddy bear incarnation of the crime lab lieutenant played by David Caruso in the television program CSI: Miami. Back when I first started creating stuffed animals, I came up with the somewhat quirky idea of making bears modeled after characters from cop TV shows and movies. I never expected there’d be a huge demand for my “Claw and Order Collection,” and I was right. Still, I was having fun, and my bears had found a modest following among collectors who either were married to cops or worked in law enforcement.

  Made from reddish-orange mohair and standing twenty inches tall, Bear-atio Caine was the most challenging bear I’d ever undertaken to create. It was my first effort using a Loc-Line mechanism—essentially a plastic skeleton, which allowed greater freedom in posing a teddy bear, especially the head. This extra flexibility was vital. When Caruso plays the sad-eyed detective on television, one of his signature stylistic touches is to tilt his head at a variety of peculiar angles. I wanted Bear-atio to be capable of this same macawlike suppleness.

  I finished sewing the jacket pieces together, carefully folded the collar and lapels into their proper positions, and put the tiny garment on the bear. Even by my own harsh standards, I had to admit the jacket looked pretty good. All I had left to do was make some miniature black slacks, affix a pair of tiny sunglasses on the bear’s muzzle, and then pose Bear-atio with his paws on his hips—another delicious Caruso acting tic. Bear-atio would be finished in time for the teddy bear show we were hosting at the church community center in town on Saturday.

  The scanner emitted the tiny bleep that signaled the beginning of a radio transmission. It was Ash, though the device’s small speaker made her voice sound tinny. She said, “Mike-Eleven to dispatch.”

  “Go ahead,” said the dispatcher, sounding bored. I knew the dispatcher’s name was Gloria, and she liked to spend her shifts doing crossword puzzles.

  “I’m making a traff
ic stop on a red Nissan Sentra.” Ash read off the Nissan’s license plate and said her location was on Port Republic Road, about a half mile east of Doe Hill Road.

  Our Old English sheepdog, Kitchener, was lying at my feet. He’d become so accustomed to hearing Ash’s disembodied voice coming from the little box that he didn’t even bother to lift his head to look at the scanner anymore. I envied his laid-back attitude. Then again, maybe he’d have been more attentive if he knew how many accounts of cop killings begin with the words The officer was making a routine traffic stop.

  After a few seconds of silence, Gloria came on the air and said, “Dispatch to Mike-Eleven, I need you to clear your stop. We have a priority call.”

  “Will do. Go ahead with the information,” said Ash.

  “Negative. Give me a call on your cell phone and I’ll explain.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Now, that’s interesting, Kitch,” I said, reaching down to scratch him behind his ear. “Usually, the only reason you dispatch a call over the phone is because you think a suspect is monitoring the police radio and you don’t want to let him know the cops are on the way to his location.”

  Kitch cocked his head and gave me a questioning look. It was obvious he’d picked up on my fresh surge of uneasiness. It’s been my experience that the kind of crook who eavesdrops on police radio frequencies is also a prime candidate to resist or flee the cops. My first instinct was to warn Ash of the potential danger, so I sat up and reached for the portable telephone on the table. Then I withdrew my hand, suddenly feeling chastened. If I called Ash to kibitz about how she approached the call, it would say that I didn’t trust her abilities, which I did. My wife was a good cop, and I realized it would probably be best if I turned the scanner off and stopped obsessing over her safety.