by Elise Sax
“Oh, good,” I said. “What a relief. Wait a minute. What do you mean?”
The doorbell rang, interrupting her. I stuck a finger in the air. “I’ll be right back,” I told Alice and went for the door.
This time it was Bridget. Her belly looked bigger.
“I need pickled,” she said and walked past me.
“Pickled? You mean pickles?”
I followed her into the kitchen, where she opened the refrigerator. “I mean pickled. Everything pickled. And your grandmother is the only one I know who has pickled everything.”
She was right. There was an entire pickled shelf in the fridge. Pickled cucumbers, pickled beets, pickled turnips. All kinds of pickled. Bridget put the jars on the table, and I handed her a plate.
She popped a pickled turnip in her mouth and shut her eyes in appreciation. “I couldn’t sleep all night. My cravings were so strong. I walked around the town but nothing helped,” she said with her mouth full.
“Are you feeling all right? How’s the baby?”
“Fine. My tax season is over, thank goodness. Lucy told me that you had a lead on Brad’s murder.”
A wave of hope washed over Bridget’s face. “It was sort of a dead end,” I told her. The hope vanished from her face, and she put a forkful of pickled beet in her mouth.
“I was hoping something was moving because of the ruckus last night,” she said.
“You mean the gunshots?”
“There were gunshots?”
“You know, into the floor tile.”
“What floor tile?”
“Hold on,” I said. “What are you talking about? What ruckus? You mean, Buckstars?”
She pointed at me and nodded. Her cheeks were distended, like a chipmunk, full of pickled vegetables. “Buckstars. That’s it. Those Buckstars people. Didn’t Spencer tell you about the raid and the FBI?”
My mind raced with possibilities for an FBI raid. I worried that Lucy and Ruth got caught up in it. “Spencer got home when I was asleep. What happened?”
“I saw the FBI drive into town. There was a sting at the Buckstars’ owners’ house. Drugs.”
My brain tried to make sense of it all. The committee wanted to call off the Easter egg hunt because of murder and drugs. And maybe the two went together. Ford Essex had been in business with Brad. Was it the drugs business? If Ford was a drug smuggler with Brad, it all made sense, and it made Ford the obvious murder suspect.
“This means you’re off the hook,” I told Bridget, excited. “Now Ford will be the number one suspect.”
“Really?”
My phone rang. “Gladie? Gladie Burger? This is Bruce. Oh, Gladie!”
It was the match I had made for Terri. “Bruce, it’s six in the morning.” The only time a match had ever called my grandmother at six in the morning was because of a Viagra malfunction.
“I’m at the hospital,” he said.
“Bruce, you’re only supposed to take one pill at a time.”
“What? I didn’t take any pills. I’m here with Terri. Oh, Gladie, it was terrible!”
“She’s in the hospital?”
“Yes,” Bruce said. “I had to sign a waiver because she’s not capable.”
“Gallbladder?” I asked.
“No.”
“Kidney stones?”
“No.”
“Appendix?”
“No.”
“What are we talking about here, Bruce? Are we talking lockjaw level or Ebola level?”
“So much worse, Gladie. So much worse.”
“Aliens!” I heard a woman shout on the other end of the phone. “Beam me up, Scotty, can bite me on the ass. Where’s my gun? I need to shoot me some aliens!”
“What do I do, Gladie?” Bruce asked.
Griffin walked into the kitchen and gave Bridget the stink eye. “This is your fault!” he yelled at her. “You’ve ruined the egg hunt! I’m going to sue you! Why aren’t you in jail?”
Bridget started to cry and spit a mouthful of half-chewed pickled vegetables onto the table.
“Bruce, can I call you back?” I asked into the phone.
“No! I need help now. You did this! You’re responsible for this!”
“Okay. Okay. I’ll meet you at the hospital in thirty minutes.”
“All right,” Bruce said. “I don’t think she can bite through the restraints in thirty minutes.”
I hung up the phone and stood up. Wow, matchmaking was not as easy as it was portrayed on TV.
“Griffin, don’t talk to Bridget that way,” I ordered and pointed to her stomach. “She’s pregnant.”
“Spawn of the devil,” Griffin said. “Everyone knows she killed that guy, and now the egg hunt is canceled.”
A few committee members came into the kitchen. “I beg to differ. I beg to differ,” the mayor said, wagging his finger. “Not about Bridget killing that poor, unfortunate man. I differ about the Easter egg hunt. The hunt isn’t canceled. We will prevail and overcome our now tarnished reputation as a sex-crazed, drug fiend, murder town.”
“With an Easter egg hunt,” Josephine said, not sounding convinced.
“World record Easter egg hunt,” the mayor corrected. “We’re not going to let the little ones down. This is a service we’re doing.”
“What if she kills again?” Griffin demanded. I was getting furious at him for attacking my best friend.
Bridget slammed her hand on the table. “I didn’t kill Brad!” she shouted, like she was in a scene from The Exorcist. “I’m an unflinching, never tiring advocate of human rights. Unflinching, never tiring advocates of human rights don’t stab men to death!”
“Likely story!” Griffin shouted back.
Bridget poked him in the chest as she spoke. “I’m going to sue you for slander! Slander! Or worse!” she yelled and poked him repeatedly, like she had gotten hold of Ruth’s jackhammer and was digging for dildos.
“Ow!” Griffin yelled and jumped backward, slapping his hand over his chest, as if he had been shot. “Did you all see that? The murderess attacked me and threatened me! Did you see that?”
“I did not! I would never attack a human being!” Bridget yelled and threw a handful of pickled turnips at his head. They landed with a splat, and the committee members gasped in unison.
“If you weren’t pregnant, I would punch you in the face!” Griffin yelled.
“If you weren’t a creep, I would…I would…I don’t know!” Bridget yelled back and threw another handful of pickled turnips at him. She wasn’t good at being mean. I put my arm around her.
“Come on, Bridget. Let’s get out of here.”
“You’re lucky I wasn’t craving bone-in beef ribs!” she yelled at Griffin and walked out with me.
We left the house and stood outside by my grandmother’s rosebushes. “It’ll work out,” I said. “The weird Essex people are now the number one suspects.” But I didn’t know that for sure. All I knew was that they had buried a dildo in their coffee shop. But probably that was one step away from murder.
“What’s that?” she asked, looking down.
“What?”
“Your finger. There’s something on your finger. Did Spencer put that on your finger?” She sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “And it’s a sapphire, so you didn’t get a blood diamond, which is responsible.” She began to blubber. “I love love. I love my baby even though he’s not born yet and even though the sperm that made him came from a monster.”
“You’re a very loving person, Bridget. Maybe you should get some rest.”
“I’m so happy for you,” she cried, giving me a hug. “Normally I don’t approve of marriage, but Spencer is a good man. You know, even though he arrested me.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“Do you smell that?” she asked.
“Sorry about that, too. I haven’t showered, yet, and I was around a used dildo last night.”
“Not that,” Bridget said, looking around. “I
smell eggs Benedict.”
I didn’t smell eggs Benedict, but my stomach growled just thinking about it. “Are you all right to be alone? I have to go to the hospital. You could come with me. I would like your company.”
“Maybe later. I think I’m going to go for a walk and get some fresh air and find the eggs. Then, I’m going to grab a quick nap or eat a cheesecake. Lunch?”
I kissed her on the cheek. “Lunch,” I agreed.
I went back inside. The committee had moved to the entranceway, and Alice had pinned Griffin on the floor. Wow, she sure was strong.
“Cool it, pal, or I’ll choke you out!” she warned him.
“Can’t we all be friends?” the mayor asked. His world record representative was clutching his briefcase tighter to his chest.
“Shut up,” Josephine growled. “You’re dumber than a Victoria’s Secret model without her wings.”
“Now, that’s uncalled for, Josephine,” the mayor said. “Listen, committee members. We’re so close to painting those eggs. We can make this happen!”
“Let me up! I’m outta here,” Griffin said. Alice let him up, and he stormed out of the house.
Spencer stumbled down the stairs, rubbing his tired eyes. “Are you kidding me? What’s going on here?”
“Committee members,” the mayor said, ignoring Spencer. “We must remain strong. We can make this happen. We can show the world that Cannes is worthy. So, disperse to your kitchens. Finish boiling those eggs and start painting!”
There was a murmuring and a couple outbursts of “we can do it.” I decided to push them over the edge in order to get rid of them so that I could go to the hospital and check on my match.
“You can do it! You’ll beat the record!” I yelled with my hand up, like I was the Statue of Liberty. It worked. Filled with renewed enthusiasm, they left to boil more eggs. Phew. I couldn’t wait until the Easter egg hunt was finished.
Spencer ran his hand over his hair and hugged me. “Am I wrong, or are these matchmaking meetings getting earlier and more violent?”
“It was an egg meeting.”
“This is such a crazy town,” Spencer said. “Last night the feds came in to quash a drug smuggling operation, and you’ll never guess who the drug smugglers were.”
“I have no idea,” I lied.
“Those Buckstars people. And the topper was that they were sex maniacs, too. Not that I have anything against sex maniacs, but these guys were off the charts. We busted in when they were having a sex party. Old people getting it on for as far as the eye could see.”
“Gross,” I said, not letting Spencer know that we were almost participants in the sex party.
“And that’s not the craziest part,” he added.
“There’s a crazier part than the drug smuggling sex party?” I asked.
“Yes. For some reason, those lunatics also dug up the entire floor of their new coffee place and Superglued dildos all over the front door.”
“More than one dildo?” I asked.
“At least a dozen. Now, if you want to push or pull the door to Buckstars, you’ve got a hand full of shlong.”
“Bizarre,” I said, wondering how Ruth got her hands on a dozen dildos. But I didn’t like where the conversation was going, which was too close to Spencer finding out that I was responsible for the Buckstars vandalism. “Oh no, I have to go. Matchmaking emergency,” I said, pulling away from him.
“That’s fine. I have to get to work. Terri called in sick. I hope she isn’t faking.”
I nodded. “That would suck.”
After getting my purse, I ran outside and opened my car door. I was shocked to see Griffin sitting on the passenger seat, his face against the window. Seeing him there, hiding with only the back of his head in view, he looked like a man, dejected. Like a man who had boiled fifteen thousand eggs and had gotten pulverized with pickled turnips by a pregnant woman.
I sat down and put my seatbelt on. “Hiding out, huh?” I asked him. “It’s been a tough few days, for sure. Would you mind if I drove to the hospital? I have a matchmaking emergency. You can come along, if you want.”
He didn’t answer, so I took his silence for a yes. I turned the motor on and backed out of the driveway. “Beautiful day,” I said. There was a huge crowd on Main Street in front of Buckstars. Ruth was standing on the sidewalk, looking at her handiwork with a big smile on her face. She waved as I drove by, and I waved back.
“I think this murder thing is going to get wrapped up, quickly, Griffin,” I continued. “By the time you get the world record for biggest Easter egg hunt, Ford Essex will be behind bars, and not just behind bars for drug smuggling. I have it on good authority that he had been in the drug business with Brad. So, you see, Bridget had nothing to do with it.”
I rubbed his arm for a second. “I’m so sad to see you so low, Griffin. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress. Don’t you worry about it. Take the time you need to recover.” I turned into the hospital’s parking lot and parked by the entrance. “You want to come in with me or stay in the car?” He didn’t answer and slumped further against his window. “I get it. You need more time.”
I cracked my window and left Griffin in the car. I had no idea what I was walking into. Bruce had said the date had gone bad, but that could have meant a million things from bad breath to an armed brother to typhoid. I hoped it wasn’t typhoid because I wasn’t good around communicable diseases.
I called Bruce when I walked into the lobby. “Where are you?”
“Emergency Room. Third bed on the right.”
I knew the Emergency Room well. I had gone there when I had stepped on a nail. Business was booming today, but I found Terri’s bed quickly. I gasped when I saw her.
“Yep, they bandaged her entire face,” Bruce said, at her bedside. “I have no idea what’s going on underneath. She started off looking like Gisele, but now, it’s anybody’s guess.” He shook his head, like he was sorry his football team was having a rotten season.
“What happened?” I asked. I didn’t want to know, but as the matchmaker, I was responsible.
“It was going great,” Bruce explained. “I brought her the kitten, and she loved it. Golly, Terri was so pretty. Like a doll. I almost asked her to marry me right then and there.”
“Did she like you, too?” If Fred was her type, then Bruce would probably be her type, too, but there was no accounting for taste.
“I think so. I asked her to get a bite to eat with me, and she said yes.”
“That’s great!” I cheered, giving him a quick hug. Matchmaking was very satisfying when it worked.
“It was great,” he agreed, running his hand over his hair. “She changed into a pretty outfit, and she put on makeup and lots of perfume. She smelled great,” he said and sighed, deeply. I wanted to tell him that I had given her the perfume, but I was impatient to hear the rest of the story. “We went to a little place I know, and she told me all about her family and about how she used to be a detective, but some nosy woman cost her her job.”
“That part’s not too interesting,” I said. “Then what happened?
“It was going real well. We had chemistry. So, we went back to my place.”
“Already? Not that I’m judging.”
Bruce’s face turned a light shade of red. “Like I said, the chemistry was real good.”
I nodded. “I’ve been there. Go on.”
“I got five cats, you know. There’s Milly and Geronimo and Blackie and…”
“I don’t need to know about the cats, Bruce. What happened to Terri?”
“Aliens!” Terri shouted from her bed. “Aliens did this to me!”
The nurse ran to her bed and injected something into Terri’s IV. “We keep upping the dose, but she’s got the constitution of a horse,” the nurse said.
“Aliens did this to her?” I asked Bruce.
“No. Petunia did.”
“Petunia?”
Bruce put his hand up, as if he was testifying t
o Congress. “As God is my witness, I forgot about Petunia’s aversion.”
“Who’s Petunia?”
“My cat. Normally, she’s a sweet little tabby. Cute as a button. She loves to play with my mouse on a stick. Such a cutie pie.”
“The cutie pie did this to Terri’s face?” I asked.
Bruce put his hand on his face and dropped his head to his chest. “I forgot about the perfume. Petunia hates perfume. She doesn’t mind deodorant or a spritz or two of scent, but she can’t handle real strong perfume.”
I didn’t like where this was going.
“The minute Terri walked into the place, it was Apocalypse Now,” Bruce said, looking into space, like he was reliving a bad dream. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Petunia first screeched. It was a sound I had never heard before. Nothing like it in nature, Gladie. Nothing.”
I patted him on his back. “There. There. I’m sorry you’re traumatized.”
“Thank you. I’ll never stop seeing my little tabby Petunia spring into the air. She looked like one of those flying squirrels in the Amazon, but she was going up instead of down. Her legs were stretched long to the sides, and her claws were out and eerily long.”
“Like Wolverine,” I breathed, envisioning the horror of Petunia.
Bruce pointed at me. “That’s it. That’s it exactly. Petunia was just like Wolverine. She opened her mouth, hell bent on clawing Terri’s face and erasing the smell of her fancy perfume.” Bruce bit down on his knuckle and suppressed a cry.
“Then, what happened?” I urged.
“It was awful. Petunia leaped onto Terri’s face, like it was Alien versus Predator. At first, Terri didn’t realize what was going on. It was like she thought Petunia was playing with her. Then, when Petunia bit down on the top of Terri’s head, she knew. Oh, Lord, she knew! Petunia was screaming. Terri was screaming. I was screaming. There was a whole lot of screaming, Gladie! Terri spun around and tried to rip Petunia off her face, but Petunia was locked in good with her long claws. Terri spun around and knocked into the television, making it fall to the floor. Then, she spun around again and knocked into the recliner and then the kitchen counter and then the knife set. I stood there frozen. I couldn’t move a muscle. Maybe because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.”