by Marja McGraw
Pete was returning to his old self, so I decided to do as he suggested, and let it go. At least until I might need it at some future time. I neatly filed the story in a small folder in the back of my mind.
“Alright, Pete. There’s something else I want to talk to you about anyway. And I have a picture to show you. We might have a new case, but it’s something we need to talk about.”
“What kind of new case?” he asked.
“A murder. But it’s not your average investigation.”
“Murder never is.” A killing was not something Pete took lightly.
“Well, in this case… Come look at this photograph and I’ll tell you as much as I know.”
Stanley walked over to join us and check out the picture. I’d caught his interest, as well as Pete’s.
“Who the heck is that?” Stanley asked.
“This is Prudy Lewis. She was a P.I. back in the late forties and early fifties.”
“And what’s that getup she’s wearing?” Pete asked.
“Apparently that’s how she used to dress. My mother faxed it to me.”
“Your mother.” Pete hung his head. “Your mother is involved in this case? I should have known.”
“Now, wait a minute. Prudy is my mother’s neighbor. And she wants to hire us to solve an old murder.”
“Is there a buried treasure involved?” Stanley asked suspiciously.
The last time I’d handled an old murder the case had involved a hidden treasure. And some nasty people had done some crazy things trying to find it.
“No treasure. This happened during World War II. Prudy’s husband was actually the P.I., but he’d enlisted and left for the war before it was solved. She took the case over and never solved it. She was raising her son by herself and continued to accept cases because they needed the income.”
“Her husband didn’t find the killer when he returned from the war?” Pete’s expression was just as skeptical as Stanley’s.
“Brian Lewis came up Missing in Action in the Pacific. He never came home.”
“Oh.” Pete had a special interest in World War II. He’d lost a great-uncle in the war and his mother had never quite gotten over it. Her pain was Pete’s pain.
“So what do you know about the murder?” Pete seemed more interested now that he knew about Brian.
“Not much. I know that an old man in their neighborhood was killed and several kids on the block were suspects.”
Pete and Stanley glanced at each other.
“That’s it? That’s all you know and you’re ready to take on the case?” Pete didn’t sound too happy.
“Well, here’s the thing. I’d like to take a short trip to see my mother and Frank, and to meet Prudy. She can tell us the rest of the story while we’re there.”
“What do you mean we?” Pete was looking suspicious again. “I’ve got plenty to do here.”
“I guess I could go by myself, but I thought maybe a couple of days away would do us both good. Stan can cover the office while we’re gone. We don’t have anything earth-shaking going on. And Dolly can keep my dog for me. She adores Bubba.” I gulped. My mother had hooked me without even trying.
He scrunched up his mouth, causing the small scar on the right corner of his mouth to turn white, and narrowed his eyes, appearing thoughtful. I waited patiently while he considered his options. “Okay, we’ll go.”
“Right. And we don’t have to take the case unless we feel there’s something we can do.” I knew he’d come around.
“Uh huh.” He knew I’d take the case. I loved a good challenge, and at least this time there might be some suspects still among the living.
“I’ll call my mother and tell her we’ll be there on Friday. Let’s just stay for the weekend and make it a mini-vacation.”
Three
After taking Bubba to Dolly’s house, Pete and I were on the road at seven o’clock Friday morning. By the time we reached Bullhead City it was near lunchtime and we were both hungry.
“Hey, Pete! Look at that. Mad Dog’s Bar & Grill. I wonder if that’s anything like Crazy Larry’s in L.A. Guess not. Crazy Larry’s is only a bar.” He slowed down and I took a closer look. “It looks clean. Why don’t we stop and eat?”
He pulled in the driveway and parked around back. It was warm outside, but not as hot as I’ve heard it can be. It was spring and the really hot weather hadn’t attacked yet.
Mad Dog’s was great, with good food and atmosphere. I knew there was a motorcycle rally in Laughlin every year, I thought it was called the River Run, and I could picture bikers bellying up to the counter. We’d have to stop at Mad Dog’s again before leaving town.
After eating, we pulled out on Highway 95 and I checked the directions to my mother’s house. “It looks like we might still have a ways to go. According to the map, the town is long instead of spread out. It must take people forever to get where they’re going.”
“Not a bad little town,” Pete said. “The older part could use some work, but it has character.”
“As hot as it is here in the summer, I’m not sure I’d be out painting a building to spruce it up.” I’d heard rumors, from my mother, that the temperatures could go as high as 128 degrees. “Mom tells me you adjust to it. She says it’s a ‘dry heat.’”
“Oh, I’m sure if it’s too hot the people here either find an air-conditioned building or go for a dip in the lake. Didn’t your mother say a lot of the houses have pools, too?”
“Yeah. She said she and Frank spend a lot of time swimming during the hot weather. And they spend time on Lake Mohave with their boat.”
My mother had explained that Bullhead City, Arizona, and Laughlin, Nevada, were separated only by the Colorado River. Now that I was seeing it for myself, I understood. There was a bridge we had to pass on the way to her house that led from one city and state across the river to the other. I could see several casinos on the Nevada side, built right on the edge of the river.
We found the street we wanted and turned right, driving into my mother’s neighborhood. Pulling up in front of her house, we saw her waiting for us out in front. When I saw gloves in her hand, I realized she’d been gardening, not waiting for us.
“Sandi, sweetie, I’m so glad you’re here.” She gave me one of her bigger hugs, something that was new to both of us. We don’t come from a family of huggers, but now that we’d started the tradition, we found we liked it.
“Hi, Livvie. Nice place,” Pete said, glancing around. That earned him a hug, too. “Where’s Frank?”
“He’s making a quick trip to the store. He’ll be back in a few minutes.” She turned to the car. “Come on and I’ll help you carry in your bags.”
“We’re going to stay at one of the hotels in Laughlin, Livvie.” Pete was uncomfortable about staying with my mother and Frank.
“Nonsense. You two will stay here. We’ve got two guestrooms so you’ll both be very comfortable. And I won’t take no for an answer. I want Sandi right here where we can visit anytime we want.”
I didn’t think that was quite the scenario Pete had in mind, but he’d never win an argument with my mother, and he knew it. I knew he’d given in when he opened the trunk of the car and retrieved our suitcases. Well, my suitcase and his overnight bag. He always traveled light.
Watching him give in to my tiny mother was amusing. At five feet even, with a slender build and short light brown hair and hazel eyes, she didn’t appear scary. Never judge a book by its cover. He’d tangled with her before and knew better than to push her. He’d learned the hard way while trying to make her do what he wanted done. I almost giggled, but took a deep breath and smiled instead.
“Come in and I’ll show you to your rooms.” Mother took Pete’s bag from him and marched up to the house, leading our mini-parade.
I turned to him and he appeared to be resigned to the situation. He shrugged and followed behind my mother. “I sure hope Frank comes home soon,” he said softly.
At least I cou
ld tell Mom was taking her hormone pills. Her mood was up, a plus. Sometimes she’d forget to take her pills and all hell would break loose. Menopause had a firm grip on her.
“We’ll have a good time, you’ll see.” I wasn’t sure if I was assuring Pete or myself.
He actually likes my mother. He just wishes he could figure out how to handle her. Some things aren’t possible, except in dreams. I held back another giggle.
Our rooms were separated by a bathroom. After we put our things away, Mother took us on a tour of the house. It was very Southwestern; bright, colorful and comfortable.
Frank returned while we were touring the backyard, oohing and ahhing over the waterfall and pond he’d installed.
“Pete, good to see you.” They shook hands and Frank turned to me. “You’re looking wonderful, Sandi,” he said with a smile and a hug.
“Great place,” Pete said. “Did you ever get…” They wandered off and Mother sat down with me at the patio table.
“I told Prudy all about you, sweetie. You’ll just love her. How about some lunch?”
“Thanks, but we ate on our way into town.”
“Where’d you eat?”
“We stopped at Mad Dog’s Bar & Grill. Do you and Frank ever go there?
“Oh, absolutely. There are a lot of good places to eat around here. But let’s talk about Prudy. She’s looking forward to you helping her. She’s pretty excited about working on the case again, maybe a little too excited.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, she’s just a frail little old lady, after all. I just hope this isn’t too much for her. She’s already talking about driving back to Los Angeles with you and Pete.”
“No! I mean, she can’t go back with us. She’s too old, and from the way you describe her, she’d probably be in our way.” A frail little old lady wasn’t in my future plans.
“Wait until you meet her. Maybe you can talk some sense into her. Want some iced tea?”
“Yes, please.”
My mother disappeared and returned shortly with two glasses and a pitcher.
“I knew that picture would hook you.” Mother grinned. “I think Prudy did, too, or she probably wouldn’t have shown it to me.”
“When can I meet her?” I was anxious to find out what the story was and decide if we could help her or not. And I wanted to get started on our vacation weekend.
“You can meet her tomorrow morning. I told her we’d take her to breakfast at a casino buffet over in Laughlin. She loves those buffets. Frank and I want to take you and Pete out to dinner tonight and show you around a little. You know, this really is a terrific place to live.”
“I’m sure it is, Mother.” Her tone led me to believe she was going to start talking about me moving to Bullhead City. I love Los Angeles, and have no intention of leaving.
“So, Mom, tell me more about Prudy. Her picture made her look like quite a character.” The best thing to do was change the subject.
A gentle breeze had come up, and with the sound of the waterfall, I was at peace with the world. There were no goons, guns or… Uh oh. Gnats. There were hordes of gnats moving in and I couldn’t shoo them away. I jumped up and ran in the house when one of them flew into my mouth.
“Gnats, Mom. There’re gnats everywhere. Let’s have our iced tea inside.”
Following me into the house, my mother laughed. “I told you I love this town. I saw a bumper sticker that says, ‘Bullhead City - Ten Million Gnats Can’t Be Wrong.’ But we don’t usually have them here at the house. Now down by the river, they’ll drive you nuts.” She glanced out the door. “See? They must have just been passing through. They’re already gone.” She gave me a look that seemed to say, You big sissy.
She handed me my glass of iced tea and we trooped back outside. She was right, they were gone.
“Okay, back to Prudy. Tell me what you know about her. I don’t mean to be rude, but could her story have been embellished a bit? I mean, she is in her eighties, and the elderly have been known to forget things or become confused.”
“Why, Sandra, I’m surprised at you!” My mother was giving me a look that I didn’t like, one of disappointment. “What about your neighbor? Dolly. Is she confused?”
Dolly is in her eighties, but I wasn’t sure of her exact age, and she’s sharp as a tack. She never forgets a thing and you couldn’t put anything past her.
“Okay, you’re right. But is Prudy sharp, too? I want to know what I’ll be dealing with when I meet her.”
“She’s every bit as alert as Dolly. I said that she’s a frail old woman, but I didn’t mean mentally. She reads the newspaper every day, watches the news every night, and keeps up with current events. She was taking a taxi over to see the movies once a week, but now either Frank or I drive her. She frequently goes to the Senior Center for lunch and to see her friends, and she plays Bingo at one of the casinos. Everyone in town knows her. She’s very vocal and involved in local issues. This woman doesn’t let the grass grow under her feet, and she refuses to let herself feel old. She has a real zest for life.”
“You’ve convinced me. She’s a sweetheart and involved in things, but she sure doesn’t sound frail.” I knew there was more to her than that. After all, she’d been a private investigator at a time when women were supposed to stay home and take care of the kids, except for the women who worked in the factories during the war, and many of them were sent back to their roles as the little woman after the end of World War II.
Prudy obviously had guts and had plotted her own course in life. She’d trespassed into what would have been a man’s world at that time. Even in this age of equality, I had some problems because of my gender.
“Why don’t you just wait until you meet her to make up your mind?”
“I think I will.”
Four
That night Pete and I went out to dinner with my mother and Frank, and after we ate they took us to a show at one of the casinos. It was an outdoor concert at the Flamingo and we had a good time. After the show we strolled over to the Riverside Casino and dumped a few nickels in the machines, and still managed to arrive home before midnight.
The next morning my mother woke me from a sound sleep, explaining that many older people often like to get up and moving early. Prudy was one of those. She was hungry and wanted to be in the buffet line before it got too crowded.
Pete was already up and drinking coffee with Frank when I made my appearance and met them on the patio.
“Good morning,” Frank said. “Ready to go?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Your mother walked over to meet Prudy. They’re coming back here and we’ll leave in a few minutes.” Pete finished off his coffee and turned to take the cup inside.
I heard voices and looked up to see my mother entering the backyard with a tall, slender woman who walked with the aid of a cane. She was around five foot six and had curly white hair that was pulled up into a ponytail with soft tendrils hanging down her neck. She had green eyes and freckles – lots of freckles. So I’d been right about that. She was wearing stylish slacks and a silk blouse. I couldn’t help noticing that she still wore cowgirl boots. I smiled at her.
“Sandi, I’d like you to meet Prudence Lewis.” My mother sounded proud of the introduction.
“Please call me Prudy,” she said in a very deep, but still feminine voice. Maybe the cigarette holder I’d seen in the photo hadn’t been a prop and she really was an ex-smoker. “No one calls me Prudence anymore.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Prudy. I’m looking forward to hearing your story.”
“That can wait. Let’s go eat before I faint from hunger.” No-nonsense Type A personality. I recognized that trait immediately, and had to remind myself that my mother had called this woman a “frail little old lady.” I watched her walk into the house and noticed that the cane seemed to be more of a security blanket for her than an aid. It rarely touched the ground.
Pete drove us to Prudy�
��s favorite casino and used Valet Parking so she wouldn’t have to walk too far. Apparently, he also thought of her as frail.
You pay prior to eating at a buffet, and Frank insisted on picking up the check for all of us. We were shown to our table, but Prudy didn’t bother to sit down. Instead she latched onto my hand and headed straight for the food. “Come on, Sandi. Let’s get to the blintzes before they disappear.” She waved at my mother. “Hurry up, Livvie. Let’s get moving.”
We headed toward the trays with pancakes and waffles, which is where the blintzes were located. A blintz, as I was soon to learn, is a type of pancake wrapped around a fruit filling. “I want to ride back to Los Angeles with you and your young man. I can stay with my son while I’m there. I want to be in on this investigation.”
“Sandi,” my mother whispered, “she’s just a little old lady. You can’t take her back to Los Angeles and let her get involved in a murder case. You’re going to have to do this on your own.”
That’s when the trouble began. And it all started over Blueberry Blintzes. I turned toward Prudy when I heard a loud voice.
“Hey, ol’ lady, that’s mine.”
I glanced up to see a kid around sixteen, maybe five feet and five inches wearing a sleeveless, ribbed white undershirt and baggy pants held up at the waist by a tightly cinched belt. He had a knit cap with no cuff pulled down on his head, covering his ears. He sported nasty looking tattoos on each muscular arm and across his back. He worked his neck around and flexed his back muscles, posturing and showing off. His stance was apparently a tough guy thing, but it was actually very reminiscent of ballet, with one foot backed up and centered against the inside of the other foot.
Prudy and the kid were each reaching for the last Blueberry Blintz, both of their hands within easy grabbing distance.
Before I could open my mouth, Prudy said, “You’re in my way, sonny. You move, because it’s mine. I was here first.” Uh oh. Trouble was abrewin’.
“Look you skinny ol’ crow, you’re on my streets now, an’ you better get outta here. Now!” He took a threatening step toward Prudy.