by Rose, Sharon
“First of all, no one almost died. Secondly, it wasn’t a stranger; it was Ralph Murphy. Remember, he was on the Las Vegas trip with me. And, Flori, it isn’t CRP, it’s CPR and I have no idea how to do that. No one had a heart attack or stopped breathing. I wouldn’t have even phoned for an ambulance if I’d known Ralph would come to after I dumped a pitcher of water on his head. Also, I’m not stark naked. I’m wearing my sleep pants and Audrey McCalester has been known to wear hers to go shopping.”
“But, Mabel,” she screeched, “what’s he doing at your house? Is it about the murder? Does he know anything? Is it okay if I come to your place?” She paused for a moment and whispered, “You have no idea how people are gossiping about this. I think it’s better if I come over. See you in five.” She hung up.
Flori would arrive in three.
“My friend, Flori, is coming over,” I explained. “She says she’s worried about my reputation but she really wants to meet you and find out what’s going on.”
“I sure didn’t mean to make so much trouble for you, Mabel. All I wanted to do was find out what happened to our friends. It’s so hard to believe that Grace was murdered. But, why? Why would someone kill her? She seemed like such a nice person, didn’t she? It was the other one, that Andrea, who seemed kind of miserable to me.”
The door opened. Flori walked in, panting. I looked at the clock. Two and a half minutes - a new record!
After the introductions, the three of us sat down at the kitchen table. Flori and Ralph talked about Las Vegas while I whipped up some ham and mustard sandwiches, opened a jar of homemade pickles, cut up some cheese, and dumped a bag of barbeque potato chips into a bowl. If this was supper, this was it. I filled everyone’s cup with fresh coffee. Ralph didn’t say anything because he was busy eating. Why, on earth, if you have a tendency to pass out from not eating, would you not eat? I’m perfectly healthy but never miss a meal.
We settled into the living room with our second cup of coffee. I did have a package of store-bought cookies but thought it best to keep them hidden. There was no need to gamble with Ralph’s blood sugar again.
“So,” Flori finally said, “why did you come to Parson’s Cove, Ralph? Did you just come to visit Mabel or was it about Grace’s murder?” She turned to me. “It is really a coincidence, isn’t it? You know, if he just happened to come here?”
“Flori, please don’t talk to me as if Ralph can’t hear you. He’s sitting right in front of you.” I smiled an apology. “Don’t mind Flori. She’s very upset about this murder. All of us are. Flori and I even flew down to Texas to try and find the killer.”
Ralph’s eyes got big. “You went down to Texas?” He put his empty cup down on the coffee table. “What did you find out?”
“Well, for one thing, I can tell you that two of the missing travelers aren’t missing. Hatcher and Williams are both in Yellow Rose, Texas.”
“You’re just telling me that now?”
“Sorry, Ralph, but I thought it might be more upsetting. So, if those two aren’t missing, I’m sure Sally isn’t either. It’s just a matter of hunting her down.”
“So, where would I start?”
“Do you think she wants you to start? I mean, Ralph, if Sally isn’t interested in you, maybe you should leave things as they are. And, be happy she wasn’t with Hatcher in Yellow Rose.”
“I don’t know, Mabel, I was thinking maybe I’d try again with her. You know, our time together was so short she never got to know me all that well. I think if she understood me, she’d come to care for me. I’m a lonely man and she’s a lonely woman. We would be so good for each other.”
I looked over at him. He was no prize. Not that I told him that. I didn’t have to.
“You know, Ralph,” Flori started out. “I know a bit about men and women. I’ve been married for over forty-five years. I’ll tell you right now, you’ll have to make quite a few changes before this woman will be interested in you. To begin with, your clothes are a bit out of date. I noticed too that your shirt collar is worn quite badly. Also, you need a haircut and a good dandruff shampoo.”
I think if Flori’s list would’ve been any longer, Ralph’s eyes would have rolled up and I would’ve had to dowse him again.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s not worry about this love thing right now. You have lots of time to work on your image. What I’d like to find out is, why did all those people get off the plane in Denver? It was right after that, that Grace turned up dead. First of all, what day was it that we landed there?”
“Well, surely, you remember,” Flori said. “It was your vacation. You left here on Monday, July 18th and returned on Friday, the 22nd. On Friday, you arrived in Denver at one in the afternoon and immediately boarded the other plane. The limo brought you right to your door at three in the afternoon. It would’ve been sooner but it took awhile to find your luggage. Delores stayed at the shop on Saturday because I told you, you needed to rest but you were back at work on Monday morning. If you could have gotten a direct flight from Las Vegas to the city here, you could’ve been home by one on Friday. I don’t know why they have so many flights going all over the place. It’s so confusing.”
“Thank you, Flori. That means Esther found Grace’s body on the Tuesday because it was the day after I got back to work. So she was killed somewhere between here and Denver sometime between Friday and Monday, which means that only three took that flight to Houston: Hatcher, Williams and Sally.” I put my cup down on the coffee table a bit too hard and a few drops slopped over the side. Flori quickly reached over and wiped them up with her napkin. “Where would Grace have gone and who went with her? And, why didn’t she take the flight to Houston? Who stopped her from leaving?”
“It must’ve had something to do with either the drugs or the money,” Flori said.
Ralph looked confused. “Drugs?”
“Oh, I guess we didn’t explain everything,” I said. “The real reason why I hope Sally didn’t get involved with Hatcher is that he’s a gangster.”
“He’s a gangster? What kind of gangster?”
“He’s in with some Mexican and who knows how many others, dealing drugs and doing some sort of illegal gambling. I don’t understand that part. The thing I do know is that this whole ‘Win a Trip to Vegas,’ was a front. We were just a front for Andrea and Hatcher.”
“What about Grace?”
“Grace was an undercover cop.”
“A cop? Someone murdered a cop?” Ralph’s face turned chalky. His hand shook as he set his cup down. “So, that’s pretty easy to figure out then: either Hatcher or Andrea murdered Grace.”
I shook my head. “Not if they were on a flight to Houston that night. They couldn’t kill her, move her body to Parson’s Cove and make the flight in time. Besides, neither one of them knew that Grace was dead. I’m quite sure of that. In fact, I was actually right inside Grace’s house when Andrea phoned. She thought Grace was home but she wasn’t, she was dead.”
“Well, of course, she’d say that if you were there.”
“No, Ralph, you don’t understand. No one knew I was there. Andrea left the message on the machine and I heard it.”
“Of course,” Flori added, “at that point, Andrea Williams thought it was Grace Hobbs while it really was another Andrea Williams.”
“Pardon me?” Ralph said. I was even confused for a moment myself.
“Flori, let’s not get into that. Just take my word for it - neither Williams nor Hatcher knew Grace was dead.”
“You believe that?” Ralph was starting to get agitated. “You said Hatcher was a crook. It had to be him if he found out she was a cop. They would kill her for sure.”
“I know it seems that’s the way it must’ve gone but I was there when they found out that Cecile and Grace were undercover. Trust me, they didn’t know.”
“How come you were always there?”
I shrugged. “Pick of the draw, I guess. Somehow, I always manage to be in the wrong place at th
e wrong time. Just ask Flori.”
Flori finished her coffee. “Trust me, Ralph, it’s true.”
“Well, no matter what you say, Mabel, I still think it had to be Mr. Hatcher or that Andrea. I didn’t like her. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“It would appear that way. Well, I guess we’ll find out. The cops were picking them up when we left Yellow Rose.”
The clock on the wall behind Flori struck eight. I didn’t want to be rude but I was exhausted and I was ready for everyone to go home.
“Would you like another cup of coffee?” Flori asked Ralph.
I felt like giving her a good kick but instead, I said, “Ralph has to go and get a room at the hotel, Flori. We don’t want to keep him any longer. Besides, he had that fainting spell today and you’re really supposed to rest afterwards.”
I don’t know if Ralph took the hint or just wanted to get out of my house and go to bed, but anyway, I was relieved when he stood up and made his announcement.
“It’s been a long day. Thanks for everything, Mabel. I’ll drop by tomorrow before I leave town to say good-bye.”
“You’re leaving already?” Flori said.
He nodded. “As shocked as I was to hear about Grace, I can see that Mabel doesn’t have any information about Sally. She’s the one I was the most concerned about.” He turned to me. “You’re sure she isn’t in Yellow Rose?”
I shrugged. “We didn’t see her. I guess that doesn’t mean she couldn’t be there,” I said. “Does she have your number?”
“Oh yes, she does.”
“Then, Ralph, why don’t you let her contact you? You wouldn’t want Sally to think you were stalking her, would you?”
Ralph’s face turned red. “I would never stalk her. Don’t you ever accuse me of that, Mabel.”
“No, I’m not. I’m just saying that you wouldn’t want people to think that, that’s all.”
Without saying another word, a very red-faced Ralph Murphy turned and walked through the kitchen and out the back door. Perhaps, Miss Sally had accused him already.
For the record, I can honestly say that no one has ever attempted to stalk Mabel Wickles. I’m not sure if I should feel relieved or disappointed about that.
Flori’s Cabbage Soup
In a very large saucepan, brown 12 oz. of lean ground beef, breaking it up with a spoon. Transfer to a bowl (use a slotted spoon). Drain the fat from the saucepan before continuing.
Heat 1 tbsp. of oil over medium heat; cook 1 diced onion, 1 clove of minced garlic, 2 bay leaves, ½ tsp. of thyme, marjoram, and salt. ¼ tsp. of pepper and a pinch of cloves. Stir about 5 minutes. Stir in 3 cups of chopped cabbage, 2 sliced carrots, and 2 stalks of sliced celery. Cook and stir for a few minutes.
Add 3 cups of beef stock, 3 cups of water and ¼ cup of tomato paste. Return beef to saucepan (I told you, you needed a large saucepan) and bring to boil. Reduce heat, cover, and simmer about 15 minutes. Stir in 1 cup of cooked rice. Discard the bay leaves.
Chapter Thirty Two
You know how sometimes in the middle of the night a thought comes into your subconscious mind and it wakes you up? You sit up in bed and wonder what, on earth, was I dreaming about? Well, maybe it hasn’t happened to you. Usually, when it happens to me, I’ve found that the best thing to do is go down to the kitchen and get a drink of water. By the time I’ve had my water and made a trip to the biffy, I sometimes remember my dream.
This time, I decided to try the same ritual; however, before I was half finished my water, I knew what had forced me to wake up. I put the glass down on the counter and walked cautiously to the phone. This time, my eyes were watching for any quick-moving cats. I didn’t want to land on the floor again. My tailbone still hurt. I hit the message button to listen to my two old messages. Reg told me not to erase them until Maxymowich solved the crime. He had a lot of faith in the Captain. Once he caught the killer, I would get rid of, not only the messages, but the whole damn telephone and answering machine. Unless, of course, I could prove the first one was Esther and if it was, I might keep the tape. Mind you, not for blackmailing purposes but I’m sure I could figure out some way to harass her with it.
“I knew it,” I said to the closest cat after I’d listened to the second message for the third time. “It was Sally on the phone. That’s why I couldn’t understand her; she talks through her swollen lips.” The cat gave me a questioning look and meowed. “You wouldn’t understand,” I said. “You, my dear cat, will never have to have rat poison shot into your lips with a big needle.” I’m not sure if it was the word rat, poison or needle, but the cat ran out of the room and I could hear her discussing it with the other cats, who all sounded quite dismayed.
I went back to bed but I couldn’t sleep. The first thing I was going to do in the morning was contact Reg Smee. Also Ralph. I wondered how he would feel about knowing his beloved had been right here in Parson’s Cove. Personally, I was wondering ‘why?’
Chapter Thirty Three
“I don’t think you had to get me out of bed at six, Mabel, no matter how important this information is.”
Reg Smee sat across from me at my kitchen table.
“Be happy it was this morning. I almost called you in the middle of the night.” I got up and refilled his cup of coffee. Reg muttered his thanks.
“By the way, Reg, not that I want to hurt your feelings or anything but you look terrible. Are you sick or what?”
Reg looked up at me with bloodshot eyes. His hair was standing on end and it looked like he’d slept in his clothes. Before saying anything, he gulped down about a quarter of his coffee. My coffee is scalding. I would’ve been begging for a fire extinguisher for my throat if I’d done that.
“I’ll tell you, Mabel, I hope this investigation wraps up soon. I can’t stand working out of my car anymore.” He sighed and ran his hand through his thinning hair, making most of his remaining strands stand straight up. “Maybe if Maxymowich would keep me informed, it wouldn’t be so bad but this not knowing anything…”
“I have an idea, Reg. Why don’t you and I work together? Maybe we could solve it and you could get your police station back, along with your new leather chair, and I could get my life back.”
Reg stared at me for several seconds, then grinned. “Mabel, you say the damndest things. You and me, solve a murder? Are you serious? No, forget I said that; I know you’re serious.” He laughed, grunted, and said, “Hell, why not? At least, I’d feel like I was doing something. Who knows? Maybe we could find the killer.”
“Of course, we can. You can’t use cuss words around me though.”
“What cuss words? You know very well I don’t swear, Mabel.”
“Okay.” I reached over and shook his hand. “Let’s get started.”
“First,” he said, “what’s all this about the phone message? Let me hear it again. You said you recognized the voice?”
I sat down. “Yes, it came to me in the middle of the night. This sometimes happens to me. I’m either dreaming or you know, kind of half awake and half asleep…”
“Just a minute,” Reg interrupted. “I won’t cuss if you won’t ramble on about things. Now, who phoned you and does it have something to do with the murdered woman?”
I leaned forward. “I don’t know but I think it might be significant. It was from Sally Goodrich. Remember? She was on the trip with me to Las Vegas. Now, if she’d phoned and said, ‘I’m in Parson’s Cove for the day, sorry I missed you,’ that wouldn’t have been too mysterious, but it was what she said and how she said it, that worries me.”
“What did she say again?”
I got up and took a paper out of my cupboard junk drawer.
“Here it is. I copied it down as best as I could.”
Reg read it aloud.
Sorry, I don’t have time to explain. Don’t want to make trouble for you. Just wanted some information. You could’ve helped. I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll see you again.
“See what
I mean, Reg? Why did she say she never meant to make trouble? I don’t think she made any trouble for anyone except Ralph and why would she think that involved me? But it’s the part about needing my help that worries me. What did she mean when she said she might never see me again?”
“She probably thought she’d never be in Parson’s Cove again.”
“Or, someone was threatening her life. She might be dead now. In fact, I think that’s exactly what she meant, Reg. She knew she didn’t have much time left.”
“Okay, Mabel, let’s not start speculating too much. First, what about this Ralph character? I hear he was at your place. Why?”
“Oh dear, I almost forgot about Ralph. I guess I’d better phone and tell him to come over and listen to the tape. He’ll know it’s Sally’s voice for sure.”
“Phone him? You mean he’s close by?”
“Of course. He stayed at Main Street Hotel last night. I’ll give him a call.” I looked up at the clock. “He’ll probably be up already.”
Millie Clark answered. She’s Parson’s Cove’s answer to Minnie Pearl. The farthest south she’s ever been is Hazelnut Junction, which is a half hour drive at the most, going top speed. Somehow, she returned with a southern accent.
“This here’s Main Street Hotel,” she said when she picked up. “How can I help y’all?”
“Millie,” I said, “this here’s Mabel. I wonder if you can get Mr. Murphy for me. It’s quite important.”
“Mr. Murphy? Are you pullin’ my leg, Mabel? Is this here some kinda joke?”
“No. Why would you think I was joking?”
“Cause, honey, there ain’t no Mr. Murphy here.”
“One of your guests. He checked in last night. Probably, about 8:30.”
“No, we ain’t got no Mr. Murphy here.”
“You’re sure? Did you check the book?”
“What book?”
“Well, don’t you have a book that all your guests have to sign or something? I believe it’s called a register. Doesn’t everyone have to sign their name when they check in?”