I dug through my bag for the notebook with my laundromat notes, dated a new page for today, and tossed it on the passenger seat beside me.
I pulled out the mayor’s folder to review the sparse information. Bradley didn’t use the nickname Bubba in Indianapolis. He was simply Bradley Bones, and he worked for a rent-to-own furniture store.
Arnie hadn’t found any information prior. Where was he born? Where did he go to school? Had he ever been married? All of this information was somewhere but most likely under another name.
I grabbed the notebook from the seat and turned to a new page. Across the top, I wrote The Mayor. I started a list with names - Bradley Bones, Bradley Bubba Bones, and Brad Bones.
One of the things Arnie had taught me was that most people, especially men, kept some part of their real name when they chose an alias. It might be their initials, a portion of their first or last name, or a nickname.
I grabbed my laptop from the back seat and turned it on. Hopefully, the signal from the bookstore would be strong enough for me to connect this morning. Peggy’s bookstore was the only business on Main Street that didn’t have their internet connection password protected.
I logged on and searched nicknames for Bradley. The most common were Brad, Lee, and Brady. My next search was for his last name of Bones. I was positive he made the name up.
He didn’t. There was even an English family crest for the name.
I glanced across the street and saw the mayor enter the laundromat. I grabbed my notebook and jotted down the time. He walked out four minutes later and went into the bakery. I noted the time, grabbed my bag, and jogged across the street.
The smell inside the bakery was irresistible. Glenn wasn’t home when I left for work this morning, so there hadn’t been any breakfast. He had sent a text to my phone that he was working over a couple of hours to catch up on paperwork before the weekend.
“Morning, Jo,” Walt called out from behind the counter.
“Jo!” the mayor exclaimed and rushed over to shake my hand. I had to hold back a shudder as he pressed his flesh into mine. “It’s good to see you this morning.”
“Good morning, Mr. Mayor. Walt.”
“Now, Jo, call me Bubba. We’ve been over this already.” He smiled his perfect politician’s smile.
“Yes we have,” I said with only a hint of irritation creeping into my voice. I turned to Walt at the counter. “I’ll take a blueberry muffin.”
“Comin’ right up,” he said. “How about a cup of coffee, too?”
I never told Walt how horrible his coffee was. I was hoping someone else would have by now. “I think I’ll pass on coffee today.”
He poured a half cup and set it in front of me. “Try this. I have a new coffeemaker. I’m using purified water and imported coffee.”
I smelled it before tasting it. It smelled good. “You’re not using monkey poop coffee are you?”
The mayor laughed uproariously. He really made my skin crawl.
“I tested the poop kind from forest cats,” Walt said. “It was the best cup of coffee I ever had, but I knew it wouldn’t go over well here, so I went with a solid Brazilian.”
“You can’t go wrong with a Brazilian,” the mayor said.
He said it in a suggestive way, and I made a mental note to find out if he was gay. It might make a difference when it came to finding out who he was looking for.
I tasted the coffee. It was as good as it smelled. “You know, Walt, this might be better than your coffee was at the flea market.”
His broad smile showed he was pleased by my compliment. He took my cup, filled it to the brim, put a lid on, and bagged my muffin. “It’s on the house,” he said.
Keith’s words came back to me about the mayor getting a free lunch all over town. I insisted on paying, but Walt wouldn’t hear of it, so I put a five-dollar bill in his tip jar.
Turning to the mayor, I asked, “Did you find any good books at the sale last night?”
“A few,” he said. “I’ve been looking for a copy of Treasure Island. They didn’t have any.”
“Are you sure? I could have sworn I saw more than one.”
“Maybe, but they didn’t have the one I’m looking for. I don’t know the name of the illustrator, but I’m looking for one like I had as a boy.”
I clenched my lips to keep from blurting out that just last night he said he hadn’t read the classics as a youngster. I didn’t want to ruin my chances of getting information from him by antagonizing him and possibly making an enemy.
An enemy.
Arnie said the old Chinese saying of keep your friends close and your enemies closer was helpful when investigating.
I tried to sound cheerful when I asked, “Bubba, do you have plans for dinner this Sunday?”
His politician’s smile was twice as big now. “Can’t say that I do. What did you have in mind?”
“Our family gets together at Mama’s for dinner on Sundays. Would you like to join us this week?”
I hadn’t ever really looked closely at the man. He was shorter than I was by about three inches – just like Pepper. His thick middle indicated he never refused a meal. The gray at his temples appeared natural, but the rest of his black hair was too dark, and I suspected it was dyed. He wasn’t attractive, but his full face and rosy cheeks gave him a friendly appearance.
“Thank you, Jo. I’d love to. I’ve stopped by Estelle’s book club a time or two to say hello to the ladies, so I know where to go. What time should I be there?”
It further rankled me that he kept saying my name when he talked to me, but I smiled and shook his hand again. “One o’clock,” I said. “Be there or be square.”
He threw his head back and laughed as if I’d just told the funniest joke in the world. I couldn’t resist looking at Walt and rolling my eyes a little before thanking him for the coffee and muffin and leaving the store.
I didn’t want the mayor watching me go back to my truck, so I walked over to the office. Arnie was standing at Nancy’s desk.
“Walt’s got a new coffee maker. Best cup of coffee I’ve had in a long time,” I said.
Nancy handed three letters to me for signatures. “Thank goodness. Arnie can drink that black tar I make every morning, but I can’t, and there’s nowhere close to get good coffee.”
She threw on her sweater and dashed out the door.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“Fine. The mayor might be gay, and I’ve invited him to dinner at Mama’s on Sunday. If anyone can get information out of him, Mama can.”
Arnie smiled an honest-to-goodness smile.
Chapter Three
A hush fell over the room.
Mama’s jaw dropped so far, I was afraid her teeth would fall out. Everyone around the table had a look of disbelief on their face.
Mama broke the silence by letting out a loud guffaw followed by even louder laughter. She was quickly out of control.
The look on Pepper’s face was downright scary. I was sure I saw wisps of smoke come out of her nostrils and ears.
Keith looked more frightened than I had ever seen him.
“Uh-oh. You’re gonna get it now,” Kelly whispered to him.
Buck put his hand on Pepper’s arm to calm her while the mayor pulled a whoopee cushion out from under his rump.
“It wasn’t my fault,” Keith yelled. “Grandmama made me do it.”
The mayor took one look at the offensive item and howled with laughter, which essentially gave everyone in the room permission to laugh. Except Pepper. There wouldn’t be any laughter from her.
The noise from the cushion had perfect pitch, and if the mayor hadn’t produced the cushion, no one would have believed he didn’t pass gas when he sat down.
Mama could finally speak. “Phew-eeee! I haven’t heard a good one like that come out of that bag in a long time. You got a good backside, Bubba.”
Glenn squeezed my hand under the table and gave me a big smile. I knew he was tr
ying not to laugh at her. Mama was so incredibly inappropriate so much of the time, I had ceased to care. It had become much easier to laugh with her and at her. I did feel bad for Pepper though. Mama was always talking Keith into doing things he knew would make his mother mad, but he was apparently powerless to tell his grandmama no.
Pepper had grounded him for a week last month when Mama convinced him to slip a wireless fart machine into Rhoda Minsky’s casket during calling hours. Rhoda was over one hundred years old, and she was just as bad as Mama was when it came to potty humor. Mama said Rhoda would have wanted to have the last laugh. Keith managed to startle several elderly people before Pepper caught on to what he was doing and dragged him out of the funeral home.
The mayor laughed again and said, “I suppose I do have an ample behind.” He patted Keith on the arm. “That was a good icebreaker, son.”
Keith was no longer afraid of his mom. “I think it should be a law that every family meal start and end with a laugh.”
“That’s a grand idea,” the mayor said. “I’ll bring it up for a vote at the next council meeting.”
Mama started the passing of the food by handing a huge platter of pot roast and carrots to Roger. Hank set the mashed potatoes in motion.
“Are you coming to our open house next Saturday?” Roger asked the mayor.
Bubba spooned a large serving of buttered corn onto his plate. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I didn’t have an opportunity to see the original building. I hear it was an impressive structure.”
“Three floors of pure awesomeness,” Roger said. “The top floor was all new goods, but we don’t want new stuff in our flea market, so we only have two floors.”
I let out a loud, “Ha!”
No one else reacted. Surely, I wasn’t the only one who found his reasoning for not having three floors absurd.
“You did a fine job of getting the building up in a hurry,” the mayor said.
Roger nodded and grabbed a biscuit from the breadbasket as it went by. “We used all local labor. They knew how important it was to the people who lost businesses in the fire to get ‘er done fast. We didn’t have no labor disputes or red tape problems or walkouts.”
“We already rented all the spaces on the first floor,” Mama said. “And it’s decorated real pretty for Christmas.”
Keith looked at the mayor and said, “You’ll like the free cookies and punch.”
Pepper’s eyes bugged a little, but it was hard for her to be too mad when Buck was laughing at him.
Plates filled, and everyone began shoveling food in. I took the opportunity to ask, “So, Bubba, how did you get your nickname?”
“My pa gave it to me when I was seven. He never called me by my name. If he wanted my attention, he would say, ‘hey you.’ After Ma had two more boys, he started calling me Bubba. Ma always said it was because I was the oldest, and I’ve been Bubba to everyone ever since.”
Oblivious to my need for information, Glenn asked innocently, “Where’d you grow up?”
“Born and raised in Indiana.”
“How’d you wind up here?” Roger asked.
“I wanted a change of pace. I’d been in Indianapolis for a while, and I thought I’d go back to small town living. I like Buxley’s location. You’re not too far from Columbus, Pittsburgh, or even the casino in Wheeling.”
“You’re a gambling man?” I asked.
The mayor smiled. “Now and again. I like to give the one-armed bandits a try.”
One-armed bandits? Had he even been in the casino at Wheeling? Most of the slot machines were push-button types.
“Have you ever been to Vegas?” I asked.
He smiled. “I have. It’s an exciting town.”
Keith’s eyes lit up. “Did you hit any jackpots? I can’t wait until I’m old enough to play slot machines. I’m going to win a jackpot”
“Play the lottery,” Mama said. “Your odds of winning are better.”
“You’re all nuts,” Pepper said, passing the roast again. “Put your money in the bank. It’ll serve you best there.”
The conversation hadn’t yielded anything of substance so far. Bradley Bones was the oldest of three brothers, he liked to gamble, had traveled to Las Vegas, and he was an Indiana native. It wasn’t much to go on.
“Aunt Jo,” Kelly said. “Those books you found at the book sale turned out to be really good.”
“I forgot to tell you,” Pepper said. “I had to take the Hardy Boys books back from Keith. They all have dustjackets, and they’ll sell for some big bucks. Some of the other books are really great, too. We already sold a Tom Swift Junior for three hundred dollars, and it didn’t have the dustjacket. It sold in less than three hours. That’s our biggest sale yet.”
The mayor looked at me and asked with all seriousness, “Do you get a finder’s fee?”
I realized this man was a mooch through and through. He probably hadn’t worked hard at anything his entire life. He didn’t even put money or effort into his run for mayor. The only person who ran against him was Rita from the bed and breakfast, and she only ran because Mama’s cronies at the beauty shop forced her to run. When it came time to vote, everyone was already so enamored by Bubba’s friendliness and his nickname, he won in a landslide.
“Of course not,” I said. “I do everything I can to assist the Swenson vacation fund.”
“We’re going to Virginia Beach next summer,” Keith said.
“I’ve been there,” the mayor said. “It’s a beautiful place.”
“Jo always says it’s for lovers,” Kelly said.
Nancy piped up. “Hank and I are thinking about honeymooning there.”
“Have you set a date yet,” Kelly asked.
“Not yet, but I’ve always wanted to be a June bride,” she said. “So …” She gazed wistfully at Hank.
“Then it’s settled,” he said. “Next June it is.”
“Wonderful!” the mayor said. “I love a good wedding.”
The man had a lot of hutzpa, but Nancy and Hank didn’t seem to mind that he invited himself to their wedding. She giggled and said, “We’ll be sure to send you an invitation.”
He rubbed his hands together in glee. I found him to be a repulsive man.
“So, you’ve traveled a lot,” I said to him.
The mayor cocked his head and looked at me with an odd expression. I knew I needed to stop asking questions and not push my luck. I attempted to backpedal. “I haven’t traveled much, and I like to hear where others have been.”
Pepper wasn’t the only person at the table to give me a puzzled look, but before anyone could ask what I’d been smoking, he answered. “I haven’t traveled outside the country, but Pa took us on a driving vacation every summer, so I’ve been through a few states.”
Mama turned the conversation back to the flea market, and I didn’t ask any more questions. After dinner, the mayor announced, “I brought pies from Crump and Crumpets. I hear there are some blueberry eaters here.”
“That would be Jo,” Mama said. “She can eat her weight in blueberry pie.”
It felt good to have no reaction to her words. Six months ago, I would have bristled, but living with Glenn and working toward a future with him had done wonders to quell the dissatisfaction in my life. I’d harbored so much anger for so long over Alan leaving me, I not only wondered if I would ever find happiness again, but I was taking my unhappiness out on my family and friends with increasing frequency.
Besides, I hadn’t eaten an entire pie in months, and with Glenn’s cooking, I was down twelve pounds since we moved in together. I only had twenty-three more to go before I was at my pre-divorce weight.
Pepper and Nancy cleared the table in fast order. The mayor went to the kitchen with Mama to unpack and slice the pies. Mama carried clean plates and silverware to the table, while the mayor balanced a pie in each palm.
He leaned over and set them on the table. When he sat down, a resounding fart sound filled the room.
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br /> Keith threw his arms in the air as if signaling a touchdown. “And there’s the laugh at the end of the meal.”
The mayor pulled the cushion out from under him. He laughed, but it wasn’t quite as boisterous as the first time. Maybe there was an angry man under all the fake personality.
“How many of these do you have, boy?” he asked.
“Grandmama’s got a million of them,” Keith said.
I had no doubt that was true. Mama was laughing so hard, all she could do was nod in agreement.
After dessert, everyone moved into the living room for an afternoon of charades, but Glenn and I excused ourselves. We loved playing games with the family, but after only getting a few hours of sleep, Glenn needed to grab a few more before going to work tonight.
Pepper walked out to my truck with us.
“Will you be going to your office in the morning?” she asked.
“Of course.”
She opened the trunk of her car and pulled a box of books from the back. It was a mix of the newer books she liked and some of the older books I had found.
“I was going to take these to Peggy at the bookstore tomorrow, but the kids want to go to the indoor Christmas tree festival over in Patterson.”
“That’s a great festival,” Glenn said. “They have it every year. The trees are all artificial and decorated to the max. You vote for your favorite, and the winner gets five thousand dollars.” He turned to me. “You should go with them. You’d love it, and you can buy one of the trees for us.”
I smiled. We did need a tree. Christmas was nine days away, and neither of us had been able to find the time to get one – real or artificial. “I would, but I can’t take a day off from watching the laundromat, and Arnie isn’t going to volunteer to do it for me just so I can go vote for a Christmas tree.” I turned to Pepper. “Does the mayor know about the festival? You’d think he’d want to get in on that action and win five thousand dollars. Oh, wait. He’d have to spend money and do some work, so I’m sure he passed.”
“What’s with you and the mayor?” she asked. “I know you don’t like him, so why did you invite him to dinner?”
Murder Between the Covers Page 3