by Marja McGraw
He stopped talking, and I didn’t push him. Prudy and I waited patiently. I glanced away, trying to give Stretch some space. I could tell this story was difficult for him to tell.
“I never meant to hurt the old man, but he really pissed me off. I marched up to him and started yelling.”
~ * ~
“You old buzzard! Why didn’t you help my brother? He never hurt you, and those guys were ready to stomp his ass. What’s the matter with you, old man?” Stretch hated Bremmer because he’d been the cause of a break-up between him and his girlfriend. This was the last straw as far as he was concerned.
“But Stretch, yesterday Slim threw a rock at me and – "
Stretch reached out and thumped Matthew on the chest with his index finger.
“Couldn’t you see he was in trouble? You could have taken him into your house until those jerks left.”
“But I – ”
Stretch pushed Matthew so hard that he flew back and hit his head on the corner of the doorframe. The old man reached back and rubbed his head. Stretch looked at Bremmer’s hand and there was blood. Stretch realized he’d crossed a line.
“I’m sorry, Matty.” There was pleading in his voice. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry.”
“Young man, I didn’t know your brother was in trouble. I thought it was the same old garbage going on, as usual. I thought they were here to taunt me. Just like you do.”
Matthew Bremmer turned and walked inside the house without another word, slamming the door behind him. Stretch heard the click as the old man locked the door.
~ * ~
“I walked home slowly, not knowing what to do. I remember my chest hurt, and I was ashamed of what I’d done. Giving Bremmer a bad time was one thing, but hurting him was another. I fought with men my own age and it didn’t bother me, but I never meant to hurt an old man. You’ve got to believe me.”
Prudy cleared her throat before speaking. “I knew that, Stretch. That’s why I spoke to you like I did.”
She turned to me. “You see, Sandi, I saw what was happening, but I wasn’t fast enough to stop it. I yelled at Stretch to stop, but apparently he didn’t hear me. I saw the look on his face and how his shoulders slumped when he left Matthew’s house.” She turned back to Stretch. “I saw you cry that day. That’s when I knew you were salvageable.”
I studied Stretch for a moment, but I couldn’t tell if he was really feeling contrite or if it was all an act. I wanted to believe him, but we were looking for a cold-blooded killer. And murderers have been known to lie, and lie well.
“Was that the last contact you had with Matthew Bremmer?” I asked.
Stretch took a deep breath. “Yes. I thought about going over and trying to talk to him, but I figured it wouldn’t do any good. There was something about the way he looked at me before he went back into the house. His face said I was a lost cause. And I felt like one.”
“So, tell me, Dr. Framer, if you had to venture a guess about who might have killed Matthew, who would it be and why?” I wanted every take I could find on this case.
“You know, I thought about that long and hard after I found out he was dead. The police came to my house and questioned me and I didn’t tell them about my run-in with Bremmer. I was afraid they’d find out about it, but I just couldn’t implicate myself. Self-preservation, I guess.
“Anyway, when I thought about everyone in the neighborhood, the face that kept coming to mind was Hector’s. He was always talking about wanting to find Matty’s money. That’s all Hector ever thought about. Money. And yet, he was so lily-livered that I couldn’t picture him doing something like that.”
Stretch turned to Prudy. “Mrs. Lewis – ”
“You’re an adult now. You may call me Prudy.”
“Prudy, please believe me. I didn’t kill Matthew Bremmer, no matter how much I disliked him.”
“Let me ask you – ” I began.
“There’s really nothing else to ask,” Stretch interrupted. “I’ve told you everything I know. So now, ladies, I have things to do and places to go. If you’ll excuse me.” He stood and indicated our interview was over.
The old Stretch was back. Just like he’d never left.
Prudy stood and picked up her cane, and pointing it at him, she gave him a withering look. “Young man, this isn’t over. We’ll be back to talk to you again. And next time you’ll remember your manners. Understand?” The Prudy I was getting used to was back, too.
He didn’t reply, but held out his hand indicating the direction of the front door. His face had closed and no one would ever believe we’d had a conversation where he acted, well, human.
“See you soon, Dr. Framer. Probably sooner than you expect.” I wanted my words to sound cryptic, but I was afraid they’d fallen short.
When I had Prudy settled in the car and we were headed home, I brought up the subject of her talk with Stretch so many years ago.
“What did you say to him on the day he pushed Matthew?”
“I told him that if he didn’t straighten himself out, he could end up in jail, just like Matthew’s killer would when he was caught. I told him he had to get a grip on his temper, and that I knew he could do it. He was a smart boy, and he needed to put those smarts to work instead of hiding them. And then I put my arms around him and he cried like a baby. I told him I wasn’t going to tell the police about the shove he’d given Matthew, and later I honestly didn’t believe it had anything to do with Matthew’s death. Stretch wiped his eyes and walked away from me, and that was the end of it. But he never bothered anyone in the neighborhood again.”
“That’s it? That little talk made him turn his life around?”
“Well, I said more to him, but that’s between Stretch and me. And it’s gonna stay that way, sister. Now let’s go home and see what Dolly’s up to.”
~ * ~
After arriving at my house, I checked my messages while Prudy got her things together. There were three messages, the first being from my mother. She wanted to know how everything was going.
The second message was from Prudy’s son, saying he’d call her in the morning before leaving for a meeting. He said to be sure to tell his mother that she’d “better not be involved in the P.I. business again.” His voice reeked with the sound of frustration.
The third message began to play as Prudy walked into the room. My back stiffened while I listened to an obviously disguised voice. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman.
“You could end up like Matthew Bremmer if you stick your nose into his death. I did it once, and I can do it again. I enjoyed it the first time, and they say the second time around is even better. So let it go. Now!” There was an odd noise as the caller hung up. It sounded almost like a chuckle.
I glanced at the caller I.D. It said Private Caller. A lot of help that was, but what did I expect?
“I don’t like this.” Prudy was standing so close that I could feel her breath on my neck. “That voice sounded so weird. I don’t like this at all.”
“Don’t worry. Someone is just trying to scare us off.”
“You don’t scare easily?” I turned around and Prudy was watching me closely, with hope in her eyes.
“No, I don’t. At least, phone calls don’t scare me.” I wasn’t about to tell Prudy the call had unnerved me a little bit.
“I’m impressed with you, Sandi. It wouldn’t have scared me either, when I was younger.”
“This isn’t my first rodeo, Prudy. I received threatening calls when I was working on another case. Sometimes it comes with the territory. Remember, it’s a lot easier for people to be threatening on the phone than when they’re face-to-face with you.”
Prudy nodded. She was wearing her cowgirl boots, had her fur coat hanging over her arm and held something in her hand. She grasped her suitcase with the other hand. Setting everything down, she put on her coat and shoved a black cigarette holder in her mouth.
“I’m ready. I can handle anything.”
She turned toward the door, suitcase in hand.
I followed Prudy outside as she headed for Dolly’s house and had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. That cane of hers was hitting the ground with a loud thump accompanying each step. Her fur coat swung from side to side as she stomped down the walkway. She was a woman with a purpose – to solve a murder.
Sixteen
Dolly met us at the door and took Prudy’s suitcase from her.
“I see you’re wearing your coat. It’s lovely, but the cigarette holder ruins the effect.” Dolly wasn’t one to mince words, usually. She turned and led Prudy to the room she’d be occupying.
While wondering what Dolly would have thought if she’d known Prudy used to carry a gun in her coat pocket, I relaxed in the living room. I could hear Dolly’s high-pitched voice coming from the bedroom, droning on and on.
“I think we should take that reporter up on her offer to help,” Prudy said, returning to the living room.
“I’ll think about it.” No I wouldn’t. Prudy wasn’t thinking about the ramifications of publicizing our investigation.
“Good. Now let’s sit down and figure out our strategy for tonight. Maybe we should actually take the reporter with us.”
“Not a bad idea,” Dolly said.
“I thought it was good,” Prudy agreed.
I threw my hands up in resignation. Prudy wasn’t going to take things seriously enough, and I knew it was going to be up to me to protect her. I decided I’d better talk to Pete, and the sooner the better. I was becoming too emotionally attached to Prudence Lewis. And then there was Dolly. I loved that woman; she was like a grandmother to me. I knew Prudy would end up involving Dolly, and I wasn’t happy about that.
“Why don’t you two discuss tonight’s strategy, minus the reporter? I need to drive over to the office for a while. I’ll be back in about an hour.”
Leaving before they could protest, I didn’t give either of the two seniors a chance to stop me. I took Bubba with me, having a feeling that he’d be on their side if he spent too much time with them.
I loaded the big brute into the backseat of my car, no easy task, and headed over to the office, hoping Pete would still be there.
After parking the car and unloading bulky Bubba, I headed for the front door of the office. The sound of laughter drifted out of the door. Bubba’s ears perked up.
I opened the door and let the dog enter ahead of me. His tail began waving madly and he made straight for the guest sitting next to Stanley’s desk. She had to be Felicity. Her laughter was like the delicate trill of a small wind chime. Light and sparkly, and infectious. I was grinning before I reached the desk.
“Sandi,” Stanley said. “I’d like you to meet my friend, Felicity DuBois.” He stood up so fast that he knocked his chair over, and the woman’s laughter tinkled brightly.
“My pleasure,” I said, reaching for her hand.
“Oh, I’ve heard so much about you,” she said, grasping my hand with her delicate appendage. Yes, she had small and beautiful hands. So small that I was almost afraid I’d hurt her if we shook firmly.
Felicity was one of the tiniest, most adorable women I’d even seen. She had long, almost black hair, pulled back in a French braid, very long, thick and dark eyelashes shadowing blue eyes, and rosy cheeks. And this woman had deep dimples that set off an already beautiful face. The only thing marring her appearance was a slightly blackened eye, although it was skillfully covered with make-up. She couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, if that, and she had tiny feet. She reminded me of a little China doll.
I glanced at Stanley, taking note of his matching black eye. He was beaming. Pete stood up and joined us, and his expression mirrored Stanley’s. This woman had quite an effect on the two men. And she wasn’t even trying.
At five feet and three inches, barely, I felt like an Amazon warrior next to her.
Turning to Bubba, I saw he was grinning from ear to ear as Felicity scratched his nose.
“Why, look at this dog,” she said. “He’s smiling at me.” There was wonder in her voice. At least she didn’t think he was snarling, which was what most people thought.
“Stan and Felicity are going out to dinner with us tomorrow night,” Pete said.
So much for our romantic evening.
“I look forward to it,” I said. And I did, mostly. It was great to see Stanley so happy. It was just that I’d been looking forward to spending time alone with Pete.
For the briefest moment I wondered about Felicity. She was gorgeous, and Stanley was, well, Stanley. But when I saw the look in her eyes while she spoke to him, I knew that she’d found someone she really liked. A lot.
“Pete, we need to talk for a few minutes,” I said, pointedly glancing at my desk.
“What’s up?” We walked over to my desk, Pete’s hand on my back.
I proceeded to tell him about Prudy’s and Dolly’s attitudes, the reporter, our meeting with Stretch and the threatening telephone call.
Pete listened patiently while I recounted the day’s events. “You’re right about keeping the reporter out of this. In fact, I had a call a while ago that may have been the reporter. Some woman called saying she wanted to do a story on you. You know, about you being a female P.I. and how it was an unusual career choice for a woman. Something didn’t ring true about it, and now I know why. She asked if we ever worked on ‘cold cases.’ I sidestepped her question because it didn’t feel right.
“As far as Prudy and Dolly, you’ll have to figure that one out yourself. I wouldn’t know how to deal with two little old ladies. I have enough trouble figuring you out.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“Oh, you know what I mean. Men and women think so differently.”
“No kidding.”
“Uh oh. I think I’m putting my foot in my mouth right now.” Pete took a deep breath. “So let’s move on to your meeting with Stretch. What was your take on him?”
“He started out acting like a real snob, but finally opened up to us. I want to say he’s not the killer because he seemed to come clean with us, but you and I both know appearances can be deceiving. And when we left he shifted back into his snobbish self. Just like he flipped a switch. That threw me.”
“Let’s wait and see how things go with Opal tonight. Maybe she’ll be able to add something to what little we already know. And what about this threatening phone call?”
“I can’t tell you much. The voice was weird, like he or she was trying to disguise it, so I can’t even tell you if it was a man or a woman. It could have even been a tape recording that someone had fooled with. But I do know this much. It doesn’t matter if it was one of our senior citizens or not, because they’re just as dangerous as young people. In fact, they’ve lived so much life that maybe they’d be even worse. More devious.”
“You’re beginning to make too much out of this. It was just a call, not the Senior Boogeyman. The last time you had a call like that it was followed by a rock through the window. I think this was just a scare tactic.”
“You’re probably right. At least there wasn’t a rock. I’m just surprised that the call came so soon after we started working the case. We’ve only contacted three people. Of course, those three people may have talked to others. No telling how many people know what we’re up to.”
“Yeah. And I have the feeling that none of them are too happy about us dredging this up after all these years.” Pete glanced up at the sound of the door opening.
I turned around and saw Sharon Stone standing in the doorway. How had she found me? I hadn’t given her my name. Well, she was a reporter, and in a way they’re probably like P.I.’s. They know where to find information.
“Sharon. You don’t waste any time, do you?” It hadn’t been that long since I’d seen her at the diner. “What do you want? I meant it when I said I don’t want any publicity on this case.”
“I know you did. However, I’ve had an idea. How about if I ride along with you and write
a story after the case is over. Whether you solve it or not, it will still be interesting.”
I sighed. “Read my lips, Sharon. No! I can’t have you trailing along while we talk to potential witnesses. It’ll scare them off.”
“Okay, so what if we talk after your interviews and you tell me what’s going on?” Sharon wasn’t backing down.
Neither was I. “No! No, no, no! There is no story here for you, so don’t get in my way.” The reporter had walked over to my desk. I stood up. She had the advantage by looking down on me, and I didn’t like that. It was a war of wills, and we both knew it.
We glared at each other. She really wanted the story. I really wanted her to leave.
Pete jumped in with both feet. “Ladies, enough is enough. The last thing we need around here is a cat fight.”
I didn’t even glance at him. “Pete? Be quiet.”
“Yeah, shut up!” Sharon said.
“Butt out,” I said to her. “This is between me and Pete.”
“I thought it was between you and me,” Sharon said. “How did he get into it?”
Sharon stopped and took a good, long look at Pete.
“Although, he is kinda cute, isn’t he?”
“Yes he is. And he’s mine!”
“Yours?” Sharon sounded like she might be taking that as a challenge.
Stanley had walked over and stood next to Pete. Felicity watched wide-eyed from her chair. Bubba stood with his head tipped to the side.
Pete’s mouth was hanging open.
Seventeen
I smiled. “Nah, you can have him if you want him. But you still can’t have the story.”
Sharon looked from me to Pete and back again. She began laughing. “You know, you and I could probably be good friends.”
“Maybe so, but I’m still not telling you about this case.”