by Marja McGraw
“Find something?” I asked.
Pete looked disgusted. “No. Not a thing.”
“We found out a few things while you were gone,” I said. Somehow I felt triumphant.
I shouldn’t have felt that way.
Chapter Twenty-three
I shared the information we’d come up with and expected kudos in return. I was disappointed when there wasn’t a great reaction.
“Don’t you guys get it?” I asked.
“No. Explain it to me,” Pete said.
“Someone was getting rough with Loretta and the brothers were out to put a stop to it.”
“That’s a stretch. Can you really relate that to their murders? What was the time span from the incidents to the murders?”
I wondered why Pete seemed to be in a bad mood. Oh, well, maybe he’d simply slept poorly. Maybe he was coming down with the flu or a cold.
As if I’d spoken aloud, he sneezed.
“I’ll go back to the diaries and try to figure out the timing,” I said, glancing at my watch. “It’s getting late. Why don’t we go home and pick this up in the morning?”
“If it’s okay, I’ll take some of the diaries home with me.” Felicity picked up a few and stuffed them in her purse.
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll do the same.”
Pete was quiet on the ride home and he sneezed a few more times.
“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.
“Allergies,” he replied.
We arrived home and after I fed the dogs I started getting out pans. The idea of breakfast for dinner had stuck with me.
Pete sat on his recliner while I cooked, saying he’d eat whatever I fixed.
I walked over and felt his forehead for a fever. He was only slightly warm.
He pushed my hand away. “I’m fine.”
“I hope so. I hope you didn’t expose Rusty or Estelle to anything. At their age they can’t afford to get sick.”
He glanced at me and tightened his lips, but didn’t reply.
I prepared fried eggs, bacon, toast and hash browns, and Clem sat by my feet, apparently hoping I’d drop something. When I called Pete for dinner, he didn’t answer.
I found him in the living room, sound asleep in his recliner. I didn’t really want to wake him, but dinner would get cold quickly.
“Pete?” I gently shook his shoulder.
“Hmm?”
“Come eat. Dinner will get cold.”
He ate half-heartedly before asking if I had any allergy pills.
I gave him two and he took them, and he went off to bed.
This was unusual in a few different ways. For one, Pete is one of those people who never gets sick. I’d never seen him with allergies before, either, and it was very rare to find him in a bad mood. I could only hope he’d be better in the morning.
It was too early for me to go to bed, so I sat downstairs and read more entries in the diaries. I didn’t learn much more – just enough to make me curious.
I could hear Pete coughing and climbed the stairs to check on him, taking a glass of water and a couple of aspirins with me.
He was awake but his eyes looked feverish.
“Can I get you anything?” I asked.
“No. Just let me be.” He turned over, away from me, and coughed again.
I know that a lot of men want to be waited on and babied when they’re sick. Apparently Pete wasn’t one of those.
I got my things together, ready to leave the bedroom. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything. Drink some water and take an aspirin.”
He grunted. “Good place for you. I’ll be fine.”
I wanted to be the good wife and take care of him, but he wouldn’t let me. I’d decided to sleep downstairs on the daybed. As much as I loved him, I didn’t want to catch whatever he had.
I didn’t sleep well and got up during the night to check on my husband. He’d stopped coughing, but he seemed restless. Checking his forehead, I found that he still felt warm. I ran cold water over a washcloth and put it on his forehead.
“Thanks,” he said, reaching out and patting my arm. “I’ll be fine in the morning.
~ * ~
The next morning, Saturday, I checked on Pete and found him sleeping soundly. I took my shower and ate breakfast before he came downstairs.
“I’m not saying I’m sick, but I think I’ll stay home today. I’ve got this achy feeling and my chest kind of hurts from coughing.”
“Maybe you need to see the doctor,” I suggested.
“No. I’ll be fine. Don’t fuss over me.”
I made him breakfast, but he only picked at it.
“Do you want me to stay home with you?” I asked.
“No. Just leave me to my miseries. And leave the dogs here. I’ll take care of them.”
Oh, brother, here it comes. He’s going to be a martyr.
I figured he was going to start complaining, but he wouldn’t let me do anything for him and he didn’t mention his health again. I was learning new things about my husband. Shoot! I’d probably be whining and asking for favors if it were me, but it just wasn’t who Pete was.
“Go spend the day with your friends,” he said. “If I need anything, I’ll call.”
I stopped and bought Tammi a birthday present. She loved books and I bought her two that were appropriate for her age.
With that I left the mall and drove to the office. In my business, it didn’t matter if it was Saturday or not. I didn’t expect to find Felicity and Stanley there, but they’d arrived earlier and were hard at work.
Fel looked up and toward the door. “Where’s Pete?”
“Home sick,” I replied. “He won’t admit he needs me, but there’s nothing I can do about that.”
Stanley looked at me and grinned. “He hasn’t learned to take advantage of the situation. If it was me, and thankfully it’s not, I’d be asking for a bell to ring. You know, just in case I needed something.”
Felicity rolled her eyes. “Don’t plan on getting sick anytime soon, love bug. I’m not good about waiting on people. I’d have to keep a hammer handy just in case I had to take care of that bell.”
“Oh, you…”
“Did you have a chance to read more of the diary entries?” I asked.
“I did. There were a few entries about Water Boy. Officer Humin didn’t trust him. He told his wife that the kid was too sneaky and he suspected him of pilfering things from the customers.”
“I found a couple of references to him, too,” I said. “Humin’s wife said her husband described Water Boy as someone who walked around with a dark cloud over his head. He actually suggested firing him to the brothers, but they wanted to give him a chance to prove himself. Horace said – “
The phone rang and I picked it up. I had a feeling it might be Pete asking me to bring something home for him, like chicken soup, but instead I heard Eloise’s voice.
“Would it be okay if I come in to your office?” she asked.
“Of course. Is everything okay?”
“Yes and no. I’ll be there shortly.”
I turned to my friends. “Eloise is coming in.”
“Is she okay?” Felicity asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I asked her that and she said, ‘Yes and no.’”
Half an hour later Eloise arrived and plopped into the chair we reserved for clients.
“What’s up?” I asked, noticing that she looked worried. “Is something wrong? Did someone try to break in again?”
“No, no one broke in.” She rubbed the palms of her hands on her knees. “You’re going to think I’m being silly, but I can’t get rid of the feeling that I’m being watched.”
I glanced outside but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.
“What makes you think that?” Felicity asked.
“I can’t explain it, but it doesn’t feel very good. I even felt like I was followed over here, but I didn’t see anyone.”
She turned to me and I notic
ed her shoulders were hunched.
“Sandi, would you go with me to look for a dog today? I called a shelter and they were really nice. I told them I didn’t want a puppy, and they said that was fine, that they have a number of older dogs. I don’t mean old, just not puppies. I think I’d feel a lot more secure with a dog around the house. I’ve always wanted one anyway, and… I’m starting to babble. I’m sorry.” She pulled out a tissue and patted her lips.
“Don’t be sorry. I’d be happy to go with you.”
“Me, too,” Felicity said.
Eloise’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “Thank you. Oh, thank you so much!”
“Would you like me to accompany you?” Stanley asked.
“No,” I said. “I think we’ll make this a girls’ outing.”
He turned back to his computer, Fel and I grabbed our purses, and we left with Eloise.
Since there were three of us and we planned on adding a dog to the group, I drove the Jeep.
Eloise had to fill out a lot of paperwork at the shelter before we started looking at dogs. We looked at several, and she kept shaking her head.
“No, this isn’t the one. No, I don’t see the right dog.”
I was afraid we weren’t going to find a new friend for her.
Then she saw a dog that made her eyes light up. He, or she, was a very large yellow Labrador Retriever. I guessed him – I’d already decided it was probably a male – to be at least one hundred twenty pounds. Definitely not as big as Bubba, but still, big.
She approached him and his tail began to swing back and forth, and I’d swear he grinned at her.
“This is the one,” she said, grinning back at him.
He lifted a paw and held it out to her.
Chapter Twenty-four
When everything was said and done, the woman from the shelter walked out to the car with us.
I opened the back hatch and waited for the dog to jump in. His name was Butch.
“Come on, Butch,” I said, trying to encourage him. I patted the inside of the back of the car.
He just sat and looked at me, almost as though he thought I was stupid.
Felicity stood next to him which was rather comical because she was so tiny and he was so large.
“I mentioned to you that he had surgery on his left knee, didn’t I?” the woman said. “Because of that, he can’t jump into the car. You have to lift his front feet up and prop them on the back of the car, and then lift his rump to get him in.”
She demonstrated for us, grunting because he was so big.
“If that means you’re changing your mind, I understand. He really is a good dog though. We love him here at the shelter.”
“Would he have trouble climbing into a regular-sized car?” Eloise asked.
The woman paused and looked thoughtful.
Before she could answer, Eloise shook her head. “No, it doesn’t matter. We connected and he’s mine. I’ll work it out. Maybe I can buy a ramp or something.”
The woman looked relieved. “He’s got a lot of love to give to his human.”
“So do I – to my dog, that is.” Eloise looked very happy.
She read the papers they’d given to her while I drove back to the office.
“This says he’s about seven years old, and he’s even-tempered. He tore a ligament in his knee and that’s why he had surgery, which was about six months ago.”
“I wonder why he was in the shelter,” Felicity said.
“He owner moved out of state and couldn’t take him with her,” Eloise said.
She glanced at me.
“Could you move away and leave Bubba behind?”
I didn’t even hesitate. “Not on your life.”
We drove back to the office so Eloise could get her car and take Butch home. We helped her finagle him into the backseat, and she left.
“Okay,” I said. “Back to work.”
“What about Eloise thinking someone is watching her?” Felicity asked.
“I watched to see if we were followed, but I didn’t see anyone. I don’t know if she’s nervous and frightened because someone broke into her house or if someone is truly watching. My honest opinion? She doesn’t scare easily.”
Fel nodded. “And if both of your houses were broken into, chances are someone really is keeping an eye on her. Maybe waiting for just the right moment.”
I laughed. “I think Butch just put the kibosh on that idea.”
“Can you believe how quickly those two bonded?”
I nodded. “Bubba and I bonded almost instantaneously.”
We found Stanley sitting at the desk reading Humin’s notes. He glanced up when he heard the door open.
“I may have found something, but I’m not sure,” he said. “I decided to start reading the notes Humin kept near the end of his life. I believe if he was murdered because he was getting too close to the answers, then maybe he found something out at a late date.”
“Well, don’t keep us in suspense, big boy,” Felicity said. “What’d you find?”
“For years Officer Humin… Oh, by the way, by this time he was Detective Humin. Okay, for years he went on the premise that Harley had murdered his brother and run away with Loretta. Of course, he had no way of knowing they were already dead.”
“You just made me think about something,” I said. “Why wasn’t the speakeasy ever searched? It seems like Loretta’s body should have been found.”
“Good question.” Felicity patted my back.
“I think I need to ask Estelle what happened after Horace was killed. I mean at the speakeasy.” This was going to drive me to distraction until I had the answer.
“May I return to my new information?” Stanley asked. “I may be able to answer your question.”
We both looked at him.
“Humin was bothered by the fact that he couldn’t track down the two supposed miscreants. He searched high and low, but he couldn’t find a trace of either one of them. Toward the end of his life he decided maybe he’d been looking at the crime in the wrong light. He began to suspect that there was more to the story than what he already knew.”
“I get it,” I said. “He started thinking that maybe Harley wasn’t the killer and something had happened to him and Loretta. Right?”
“Correct. Police procedures had changed somewhat over the years. Horace was murdered in his home, not at the speakeasy. The police never inspected the gin mill, but concentrated on the house. With him deceased and Harley missing, no one wanted to take over the business. Their family came in and covered up the opening to the back room and the place was boarded up. Actually, it was closed and boarded up for years, that is, until Eloise took over. She’s the one who finally opened it and leased it out for business.”
“I wonder why no one emptied out the back room before closing the place.” Felicity looked thoughtful.
“A comedy of errors maybe?” Stanley picked up some notes and tapped them on the desk, straightening them and making them more orderly. “From what Humin wrote, he had the same question on his mind. He said he contacted the brothers’ mother and she said their business had embarrassed the family. They didn’t want anything to do with it.”
“Interesting,” I said. “It seems that those times and people having a past seems to embarrass more than just their family. Pete and I got the distinct impression that Rusty’s family was embarrassed by his past, too. Of course, we are talking about illegal activities. On the other hand, Ollie seemed to get a kick out of his father’s stories.”
“Did he write anything else?” Felicity asked.
“It was truly bothering him that he couldn’t find the runaways, and he kept digging into every aspect of the case. At one point he wrote, ‘I may be onto something. I need to talk to a few people from the old days.’”
“Did he say who?” I asked.
“No. Just people from the old days, and honestly, I think we have a pretty good list of names. I think he wanted to talk to the same people we�
�ve been contacting and looking into. I haven’t finished reading his copious notes yet, but I will.”
“Stan, you’re becoming quite the perceptive detective,” I said.
My cell phone rang.
“Sandi, would you come home and get Clementine? It’s like she has radar. Every time I settle down she starts barking and I have to get up again.” Pete sounded stuffy, as though he couldn’t breathe through his nose very well. “And she keeps licking me. I hate that.”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” I said.
We hung up.
“Is Pete worse?” Stanley asked. “Nothing personal, but Felicity and I don’t want to catch whatever ailment he’s suffering from.”
“I don’t know, but Clem is getting on his nerves. I may just stay at home. If you come up with anything else, would you call me?”
“Sure.”
When I arrived home I found Pete sitting on the couch and leaning forward with his head in his hands.
“Headache?” I asked.
“Yeah, and it’s got a name. Clementine.”
Oh, yes, he was definitely in a bad mood.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and go to bed. I’ll bring you some soup.”
“Thanks.” He trudged up the stairs like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Clem sat at the bottom of the stairs, wagging her tail. She didn’t understand illness. She began to follow him up the stairs and I called her. She came running to me.
“You stay down here with me.”
She watched me as though trying to understand what I was saying.
“Where’s Bubba? Let’s go find Bubba.”
She recognized his name and ran to the kitchen door. I let her out and she immediately started barking, so I brought both dogs inside.
It didn’t take long to heat up the soup. I still heated it on the stovetop instead of in the microwave. We’d added a retro stove like something from the 1920s to the kitchen and I loved using it.
I was about to find a tray and take a bowl of soup up to Pete when he walked into the kitchen.
“Okay, Sandi, I admit it. I’m sick. I don’t know if it’s a cold or the flu, but I can’t deal with this. Do something.”