Perplexity on P1/2 (Parson's Cove Mysteries)
Page 13
She leaned forward. “Well, I actually saw them earlier. You know, before they had the argument in the restaurant. I was in the closet where the cleaning supplies are, sneaking a smoke, when they came out of their room.”
“They had a room together?”
“Yep. Well, I mean, they came out of it together. I assumed they were a couple.” She looked around. “I can bring up the date and room number if you’d like.”
“I’d like that.” I wasn’t sure what good the info would be but I could always share it with Reg.
“You know I’d get fired for this, right?”
“I’m not going to tell a soul. I mean it.”
She plunked down in front of the computer and in a couple of minutes, smiled.
“I’ll write it down for you. And also what I heard them talking about,” she added. “When I’m finished,” she whispered, “maybe you’d better go, in case someone starts wondering what we’re up to.”
I nodded. “Good idea.”
An elderly couple came in, each pulling a small suitcase on wheels, and stood behind me.
She scribbled on a page of hotel stationery for a few minutes, folded it, and handed it to me.
“Here, you are, Mrs. Smith,” she said, in a loud voice. “This is the information you wanted about our hotel. We’d love to have you come and stay with us.”
I took the paper. “And, I would love to come and stay here,” I replied with a matching voice. “Thank you so much.” In a whisper, I said, “I’m staying at the Firebird Motel. If you think of anything else, call me. Room 301.”
I smiled at the couple. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy your stay here.”
As I walked out to the car, I felt good, knowing there were other kindred spirits out there. Cindy was just a younger version of me, younger and more hip - I never could snap my gum like that.
When I reached the restaurant, Flori and Stella were waiting in front, leaning against the wall. Flori’s nose was taking on a nice red hue. Beads of sweat were dripping off Stella’s forehead and forming little streams down her cheeks.
“Mabel, where on earth have you been?” Flori exclaimed as soon as she got in the front seat and I settled into the back again. “We had three meals just sitting there and waiting for you. I don’t think I’ll ever eat anything again.”
“You say that, Flori, but trust me, you will. Probably in about two hours.”
“No, Mabel, this time I think I’ve sworn off food for good. Well, fast food anyway.” She rubbed her stomach, belched, and groaned. “If I never see another cheeseburger, it will suit me just fine.” She turned in her seat to look at me. “I hope you accomplished a lot, Missy, after putting us through such torture.”
“First of all, you didn’t have to sit and eat all the time. You can sit and talk. No one would notice. For goodness’ sake, Flori, it’s a fast food joint, not some high-class restaurant and yes, I did accomplish a lot. You won’t believe all the things I’ve found out,” I said. I carefully removed the paper from my jean pocket.
“Well, what, Mabel? Don’t keep us in suspense.”
“Okay, here goes. First of all, Cecile’s wife might not be named Grace. She might be called Andrea.”
“Just a minute,” Stella interrupted. “I know Cecile’s wife is named Grace. It just isn’t the Grace who was killed, that’s all. But, Mabel, her name has always been Grace. I should know - I live next door.”
“Okay, but the Grace who was murdered, who wasn’t, Cecile’s wife, was really named Andrea.”
“Well, that makes more sense, doesn’t it?” Stella said.
“It does?” Flori said. “That is logical to you?”
“Well, sure. She obviously wasn’t who she said she was. She must’ve been pretendin’ to be Cecile’s wife and all the while she was somebody named Andrea.”
“But why? Why would someone take on another person’s name and pretend to be someone else’s wife? Do you know why, Mabel?”
“You’re asking me, Flori? This whole thing is just plain ludicrous. But, hey, that’s why we came here. Right, Flori? We have to find out who Andrea really was. Was she pretending to be Cecile’s wife? I don’t even know if she was. Also, why was Cecile Tucker in Las Vegas and where is Cecile’s real wife? Is she dead too?”
Flori moaned and shook her head. “This is too much for me. This is too much for you too, Mabel. You have to call Reg.”
“That’s not all though. Get this: Would you believe that Mr. Hatcher and Grace were sharing a hotel room right here in Yellow Rose? I was going to say, before someone killed her, but that’s sort of a ‘given,’ isn’t it? Obviously, that was before the trip to Vegas. And, not only that, they had a big fight. Cindy thought they were mad enough to shoot each other.”
“Cindy? Who’s Cindy?” Flori asked.
“She works at the hotel where the two were staying. They booked in that morning, had the fight, and never returned. Weird, isn’t it? I’ll tell you, I would’ve sworn on a stack of Bibles that they were strangers when I saw them together. But, you will never believe what else I found out. Flori, you were right - this whole Las Vegas thing? It was a hoax.”
Chapter Twenty Two
“Let me see that paper again.”
We were back in our hotel room. Now, when it was probably over a hundred outside, the air conditioner decided to work only on the lowest setting. Stella was with us. Flori took Cindy’s note out of my hand and read it aloud for the fourth time.
Room 322. Registered to Bob Hatcher. Heard the woman saying the Las Vegas trip was a great cover up. Nobody suspected. It sounded like she didn’t want Cecile Tucker involved and he said she was crazy if she thought he’d trust her. Last thing I heard was him saying, Cecile recommended you so you’d better live up to our agreement.
“Aren’t those what you call, famous last words?” Stella said. “I wonder what they were coverin’ up? If Cecile was involved, you’re knowin’ it was somethin’ bad. Maybe drugs or guns.”
“Do you think Grace was the one behind it? You know, the one who planned it all?” I wondered, aloud.
“Tucker would be my bet,” Stella said. “I tell you, I wouldn’t wanna meet up with Cecile or that Hatcher character in an alley, I’ll tell you.”
“No,” Flori said. “It’s never the one you think. Mark my words, there’s always some nameless person behind these things - someone who never gets caught. Someone who keeps doing more diabolic crimes but keeps getting away with it. You see it all the time on TV. I bet Maxymowich could torture Hatcher forever and he would never divulge any information.”
“Flori,” I said. “Your imagination is getting away on you. This isn’t a television series or a mystery book. Those things don’t happen in real life. You know that.”
Stella snorted. “Yeah, but this isn’t real life. This is Yellow Rose, Texas. Flori could be right.” She shook her head. “There’s people here who’d do most anythang for money. Trust me, I know. Some of the most law-abidin’ citizens have done things they never thought they’d do. It ain’t easy bein’ poor.”
Flori looked at me with an ‘I told you so’ look.
“So, now, Mabel,” she said, feeling a bit more confident. “You’d better give Reg a call. I think you have enough information to make him happy.”
She was right. It’s just that I would’ve liked to call and tell him who Grace really was, why someone killed her, and why that someone left her body behind the nursing home in Parson’s Cove. Of course, handing over the killer would bring me the greatest joy, but I had to be realistic and surrender to the circumstances. After all, I should leave something for the authorities to solve, shouldn’t I?
“You’re right.” I checked my watch. It was after five. “But, you know what, Flori? He’s at home having dinner now so why don’t I phone later? You two probably aren’t hungry but don’t forget - I didn’t have any lunch.”
They both looked at me as if I were nuts.
“That,” Stella said, “was hou
rs ago. I’m famished, aren’t you, Flori?”
Flori giggled. “This detective work really gives a person an appetite. Where should we go for our dinner?”
So much for never eating again.
Flori got out the phone book and they checked the restaurants. Stella had eaten at every one. We decided it was time for Chinese. I was excited too, not so much about the food but I felt that for the first time we were close to solving this mystery.
The restaurant was small and, as usual, packed. I don’t know much about Chinese food so I let the other two order for me. When the plates arrived, they were over-flowing with steaming fried rice, sweet and sour chicken and Chinese vegetables. We shared a pot of green tea. The cups were small but after four of them, I made a dash for the washroom.
“Do you know what I noticed?” I said, after getting back to the table. “The door to the kitchen was open and all the cooks back there are Mexican.”
“That’s why we came here,” Stella said. “They make the best Chinese food in town.”
We stopped on the beach road down from our hotel and watched the sunset. I took out my camera and snapped a few pictures of the sun reflecting on the water. In the west, the sky was orange and in the east, it was pink and powder blue again. I doubted we would ever see such a beautiful sunset in Parson’s Cove.
“I’m going to try to remember this,” Flori said. “It’s so beautiful.”
“And,” I said, “if you forget, you can always look at my pictures.”
“Or, y’all can come back for a visit.” Stella had been quiet all evening. “I’m going to miss you two.” She started to tear up. “I never realized what a boring life I lead. Ever since you came, things have gotten lots more excitin’.”
I grabbed a box of tissues off the back window and passed it up front. Stella, I found, almost matched Flori in the crying department.
When the sobbing, hiccoughs, and snorts had desisted, I said, “Well, we don’t have to call it quits. After all, we still have to find out who the real Grace was. Besides that, we don’t know who Hatcher was going to see in prison. Do you think there’s any way you could get back in there, Stella?”
They both turned in their seats and glared at me. Okay, so they didn’t want to do any more detective work tonight. I took the hint.
Instead, they decided we would rather spend a lovely evening in the hotel room, watching a movie. Stella stopped at a little corner store and came out with a gigantic bag of snacks. Much to Flori’s horror, in the other arm, she had a six-pack of beer. Beer isn’t gin but it’s better than soda pop. We’d barely stepped foot in the lobby when the young man from behind the desk came rushing over to pounce on us. Well, me in particular.
“Miss Wickles?” he said. “There’s been an urgent message for you from someone in some place called Carson’s Cove.” He handed a piece of paper to me. There was a phone number on it. “The gentleman who called sounded extremely upset. I hope everything will be all right.” The faster he talked, the more his freckles and pimples reddened. He placed his hand on my arm. “If there’s anything we can do to help, let us know. I told the manager and he said that if, and heaven forbid this might be true, but if someone has been in an accident or something like that…” His grip got tighter. “Perhaps, a death in the family and heaven forbid this might be true, we can make arrangements for a shuttle bus to take you and your friend, to the Houston airport immediately.”
Flori gasped and made a low moaning sound. “Are you sure it was for Mabel?” Her voice shook. Stella put her arm around her to steady her. “Did this man say Mabel or was it Flori?”
“No, it was Mabel. Mabel Wickles.”
I looked down at the phone number.
“Flori, there’s nothing to get excited about. This is Reg’s phone number.” I looked at the young man and smiled. “By the way, it’s Parson’s Cove, not Carson’s Cove. And, don’t worry. I doubt there’s an emergency. Did he happen to leave any sort of message? Knowing Reg, I’m sure he must have said something.”
The boy blushed. “Well, I thought because he seemed so upset that there must be something terribly wrong. I’m sure he didn’t mean what he said.”
“I’m sure he didn’t either. Can you remember the exact words?”
He cleared his throat. “I think he said something like: ‘Where the hell’s Mabel Wickles? (Pardon my language but you said ‘exact words.’) ‘You tell her that if she’s not home on the next flight, I’ll send a posse out to search for her.’ At this point, I said, ‘Are you threatening one of our guests?’ Because, you know, Miss Wickles, we would never allow that. However, this very upset gentleman then said, ‘If I don’t hear from her within the next four hours, I’ll be there to collect her, myself.’ At which point, I said, ‘I’ll get this message to her as quickly as possible.’ He seemed to settle down a bit when I said that because then he said, ‘She better be all in one piece when I see her.’ I think that was very nice of him. I mean to say that, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was. And, you did a very good imitation of Reg.” I removed his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll call him right away. He tends to worry too much.”
He smiled. “He must be a very good friend to be so concerned.”
“No.” I rolled my eyes. “He’s just the local Sheriff.”
Chapter Twenty Three
Half way through the first ring, Reg picked up.
“Mabel,” he bellowed. “Who gave you permission to go to Yellow Rose, Texas? And, who said you could take Flori all the way out there? Are you out of your mind? Flori’s kids are worried sick about her. Well?” He paused. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“First of all, Sheriff Smee, I don’t need anyone’s permission to go on a vacation to Yellow Rose, Texas. Or, to any other place, for that matter. Secondly, Flori’s kids are not worried sick about her because she’s been phoning them and most of them couldn’t care less where she is. Well, I mean, they care but they’re not worried at all. And, thirdly, I’m not out of my mind. Is there anything else you have to say to me?”
“Yes, there is something I have to say: this is the most bone-assed trick you have ever played on me.”
“Don’t think so much of yourself, Reg. I didn’t have you in mind for one minute when I came here. And, for another thing - you can watch your language.”
“If you weren’t thinking of me, why’d you tell Jake to say you were in Florida? Why’d you try to hide it from me? Tell me that, Miss Wickles.”
“Okay, I will. I didn’t want you to know because I knew you would react exactly as you’re reacting right now. And, besides that, I was going to phone you tonight. There was no need for you to scare that young desk boy half to death.”
“You were going to call me, were you? Easy to say that after I called, isn’t it?”
“Just one second, Reg.” I handed the phone to Flori. “Here, tell the old coot that I was going to phone him this evening anyway.”
“Hello, Reg? This is Flori. How are you? I’m sorry we didn’t phone sooner. It’s really true, we were going to talk to you tonight. We’re having a wonderful time, Reg. I wish you could meet our new friend, Stella. The folks here have to be the friendliest in the world. And, the sunsets over the water? They are marvelous. Pink and orange and blue. Something you never see in Parson’s Cove. And, you know, Reg, we have a room that looks right out onto the water. Oh, and another thing, the food is wonderful. Stella has taken us to so many different places. I never thought I would enjoy Mexican food so much. Well, the first time, we drank too many margaritas and we were up all night.” She giggled. “Did you know that’s a Mexican drink, Reg? Mabel says they get very offended if you don’t have one or two with your supper.”
Flori stopped to catch her breath and Reg must have asked to speak to me again.
“Here, Mabel. He wants to talk to you.” She handed me the phone.
“Okay, Wickles, I’ll hand it to you, it sounds like Flori is having a good time. At least, I’m
glad you’re looking after her. You? I know you’re up to something. I haven’t known you for all these years for nothing. There’s no way you would’ve traveled all that way unless you were going down there to find Grace Hobbs’ killer.”
“Hey, Reg, I know I can never pull one over your eyes. I have to admit I did do a bit of investigating while I was here.”
“I knew it. All I can say is, you better not upset Maxymowich’s investigation. You’ll be in big trouble then. This isn’t some little game you can play, you know. You get mixed up with these thugs and you might end up like Grace. Did you hear me, Mabel? You could very easily end up like Grace - dead in a morgue.”
“Well, you don’t mean like the real Grace because she’s probably still alive.”
“What real Grace? I’m talking about the murdered Grace Hobbs, whose dead body ended up in Parson’s Cove. Who on earth are you talking about?”
“That woman who was murdered and whose body was discovered behind the nursing home in Parson’s Cove? That’s not the real Grace Hobbs. Actually, there might not even be a Grace Hobbs. Her name might be Grace Tucker. Unless, she didn’t want to use her husband’s name and I wouldn’t blame her at all. Grace Hobbs was the name the dead woman gave when she was on the trip to Las Vegas, but that’s not her real name. Her real name was Andrea.”
“You’re not making any sense, Mabel, as usual. Are you trying to tell me that the dead woman’s name is Andrea, not Grace?”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you.”
“Okay, say you’re right. Then, who was the Andrea who went to Las Vegas? Isn’t that what you said her name was? The one you said was Grace’s friend?”
“That’s something I’m still working on, Reg.”
“Well, you can quit working on it. I thought I’d save the best until last. Maxymowich and his men are probably in Yellow Rose right now and I don’t want them to see you. If you mess things up, I’m the one who’ll get H, E, double L hockey sticks. I want you out of there tomorrow morning, latest. Got that?”