by Carrie Marsh
The Little Dog Lounge sign was made up of hot pink neon letters with the outline of a poodle next to it. With perfect timing, just as Mary was waiting for a red light to change, a huge Cadillac from the days of the Carter administration pulled out of its spot in front of the bar. As soon as the light turned green, Mary slipped in, locked the car up tight, and headed inside. It wasn’t until after she was on the sidewalk with her hand on the door handle that she realized the psychic energy bombarding her.
“Alabaster was right,” she mumbled, contemplating getting back in the car to speed home. “Something is already picking away.”
“You going in, lady?” asked a grumpy-looking man in a long-sleeved t-shirt and stubble all over his cheeks and chin.
“Pardon me.” Mary giggled insanely then pulled the door and stepped inside. The man followed but quickly walked around her to take what was probably his regular seat at the bar.
Once inside, she smelled stale cigarettes and beer. Little Dog Lounge smelled like every other dive bar across the United States.
See, nothing strange going on here. This is just a bar. She tried to calm herself but the longer she stood at the door, the more attention she was drawing to herself. With a deep breath, she made her way to the bar. The stool she chose was more silver duct tape than the red “pleather” it had originally been covered with. The woman behind the bar was wearing a see-through blouse with a tightly fitting black bra. She looked coolly at Mary.
“What can I get you?”
“Oh, you know, let me think about that for just a minute.” Mary smiled politely but got very little in return. Why didn’t she think to bring Grace with her? She would have had a hoot doing this.
Mary looked around and, within a minute, found who she was looking for.
Bruce McGovern was sitting at a quiet booth near the back with a woman with long black hair. He didn’t look as bad as he had at the funeral. Maybe Grace was right and he was already off to greener pastures. But did that mean this woman was in danger, too?
Without giving herself a chance to chicken out, Mary hopped off the barstool and walked over to the booth. She went to clutch her purse to her shoulder as she sometimes did when she was nervous and realized it was back home on the side table by the front door with her wallet and cell phone.
Nervously, she tugged at the hem of her shirt, squared her shoulders, and approached the booth.
“Excuse me.” She used the friendliest older lady voice she could muster. “Aren’t you Bruce McGovern?”
Bruce’s jaw set tightly, and he squinted at Mary. “Yeah.” His voice was low and menacing.
The woman was no friendlier, looking Mary up and down. She had tattoos in dark black ink on her arms and a ring through her left nostril.
“I’m sorry to interrupt but, well, I saw you at Summer Moran’s wake.” Mary watched as his tough outer shell began to crack before her eyes.
“Yeah, and?” His voice cracked slightly. Mary looked at the woman, who didn’t seem to be too interested in discussing anything about the late Summer Moran and suddenly found the scratches and dents in the wall to be much more fascinating.
“I wanted to tell you I was sorry for your loss.” Mary stood still and waited for a reply. When nothing but a cold stare came back, she took one more shot in the dark and hoped to hit something. “I didn’t think it was appropriate for the family to… act the way they did. I just wanted you to know that.”
She gently patted his muscular shoulder and turned to leave.
“How did you know Summer?”
With her breath hitched in her throat, Mary turned around and looked Bruce square in the eyes. “She had applied at my new shop. I had hired her.”
“You’re the bead shop lady?” His eyes softened slightly.
“You can call me Mary.”
Bruce looked across the table to his companion. “Give us a minute, will you, Crystal?”
Without a word, Crystal slunk out of the booth seat, snatched a leather jacket with the telltale Outlaws semi-circle in white on its back, and strolled to the bar without a second glance.
Mary filled the vacant booth space and folded her hands in her lap. She looked at the glasses in front of Bruce. A beer and a shot glass.
“Mary, can I buy you a drink?” He reached for his wallet that was attached by a thick, silver chain.
“I really don’t think I should.”
“They won’t let you sit here if you’re not drinking.” He looked at her with bloodshot eyes. “Tell you what. I’ll order you a round of what I’m having and you can just let it sit in front of you. Deal?”
Mary nodded. She could tell by the sound of his voice he had probably been at the Little Dog Lounge since they opened.
He whistled to the bartender, giving two fingers, to which the barkeep nodded. Hunching his shoulders and leaning in a little closer, Bruce gave Mary a sinister smirk.
“So, what in the world possessed you to hire Summer?” Bruce tipped the bigger glass far back and swallowed the last couple drops of beer.
“She applied. When I spoke with her, I liked what she had to say.”
“You new in town, lady?” Bruce chuckled bitterly. “Summer wasn’t exactly what you’d call a nine-to-five kind of girl. Unless you meant nine in the evening until five in the morning.” He slapped the table and laughed at his own joke.
“No. I’ve lived in Morhollow my whole life.”
That seemed to sober Bruce up just in time for Crystal to bring their drinks and set them on the table with as much enthusiasm as she had when she was sitting there.
“So, you know what people said about her.” Bruce took a sip of beer. “You some kind of church lady? Trying to save a soul?”
“Would it have been so bad if I were?”
Bruce didn’t answer. Instead he picked up the shot glass and held it in front of him with a crooked smile on his face and tears in his eyes. “Well. Let’s toast to Summer. Wherever she is.”
Mary picked up her shot glass and flashed back to when she and Ward had gone away to Arizona for a vacation. Having fun with some locals, they’d decided to do a shot of tequila.
Ward, a real man’s man, handled his liquor. Mary, on the other hand, was throwing up the food she ate the night before within fifteen minutes.
Not wanting to ruin her interview, she took a small sip to match Bruce’s toss all the way back and winced. Even those few drops burned their way down her throat and took her breath away. A small cough escaped.
Bruce shook his head as if Mary were some kind of embarrassment.
“Why did Summer’s cousin act that way with you at the wake? Do you know?” Her voice was raspy, so she cleared it and coughed outright into a closed fist.
“Sure, I know.” Bruce clenched his jaw. “I’ll bet you do, too.”
Mary pursed her eyebrows together and shook her head no.
“Look, she had a way with the guys. I knew that. I was wrapped around her finger and I’ve admitted that from the beginning. I did what I thought would make her see how much I…” Bruce shook his head and stretched his neck, tilting his head back and to the side. “She was into things. I tried to help her but she wouldn’t listen. How many times can a guy ask nicely, right?”
Was he admitting that sometimes he didn’t ask nicely? What did that mean? Mary let him continue talking.
“She was going to come with me. We were going to leave together.”
“Where were you going to go?”
“Anywhere. When you have a bike, Mary, the highway is your home. Ain’t you ever heard that song?” He nodded his head, the effect of the shot starting to sink in.
“What happened?”
“She took a job at your store!” Bruce slapped the table. “All of a sudden she wants to stay here. Says family is more important.”
It didn’t make any sense to Mary, except that Summer had suddenly realized that Bruce wasn’t going to change. She went to the only people she could trust and that was her cousin and
his wife. But Bruce didn’t like that.
Looking to her left, Mary saw Crystal heading in their direction.
“Sorry, Bruce. But I didn’t get your friend’s name.” She glared at Mary with eyes encrusted with black eyeliner and heavy mascara.
“Just cool it, Crystal.” Bruce waved lazily.
“I’m sorry.” Mary extended her hand. “Mary Tuttle.”
Crystal backed up with both her hands raised as if Mary had just offered her a leprosy-covered claw.
“Tuttle!” Crystal shook her head and glared at Bruce.
“Tuttle. Like Captain Tuttle?”
Mary swallowed hard.
“Jeez, Bruce!” Crystal shouted. “Why not just march yourself down to the station!”
“Shut your mouth, Crystal!” Bruce hissed.
Mary slid out of the booth and shook her head, waving her hands, trying to calm everyone down. The entire bar was looking at the display going on at the booth, a few of the men stepping off their barstools ready to jump in if necessary.
“No. I mean, yes, I am Andrew’s mother but I’m not here—”
“Andrew?” Crystal barked.
Bruce yanked himself up and out of his seat and towered over Mary. The smell of whiskey and cigarettes was overwhelming. Mary stood straight and looked up into Bruce’s face. Recalling her protection spell, she knew she’d have to move carefully.
“You doing the digging for your son, Mary?” Bruce growled. “You tell him if he sends his mama to do his job again, his mama may not look the same when he sees her again.”
Mary didn’t flinch. Who did this boy think he was talking to her this way?
“I am sorry for your loss, Bruce.” She looked Crystal up and down as if she were something she saw on the bottom of her shoe. “Truly, I am.”
“Mary, I better not see you in here again.” Bruce’s voice was almost apologetic. He took a step back and looked toward the exit.
Taking the hint, Mary turned and headed in that direction. For a moment, she was sure Crystal was going to ambush her with a clunk upside the head. But all she heard were her desperate whispers at Bruce who ultimately told her to shut up.
Stepping outside the bar, Mary felt her entire body shaking. She wasn’t sure if she’s been trembling this way inside. But it took her what felt like twenty minutes to get the keys in the lock on her car door and safely behind the wheel. Pressing the button, she heard the soothing sound of the doors locking.
Looking at the clock on the dashboard, she saw she had only been inside the Little Dog Lounge for fifteen minutes. It felt as if she had been in there for over an hour. The psychic negativity began to pound at her like the bass of some very bad rap music. The shadows had started to creep closer to her, and they had nothing to do with the sun going down. These were of another realm, the realm that lived simultaneously with this one.
“My spell casting skills have seriously diminished,” she mumbled to herself. “I am out of practice. And that’s dangerous. Especially if I’m going to be visiting places like this.”
Just as Mary was starting to relax and wait for traffic to ease up, the door to the bar snapped open and Crystal stepped out. In the little bit of natural light that was still left, Mary saw she was a lot older than she’d appeared inside. But the hatred on her face was unmistakable. Quickly, Mary maneuvered her car into traffic, nearly colliding with a bright red Mustang. The driver leaned on his horn, and Mary waved politely, gunning her car and quickly getting out of there.
CHAPTER NINE
LUNCH DATE
LUNCH DATE
After visiting the Little Dog Lounge, Mary was physically and psychically exhausted. She went to bed early, dragged through an extraordinarily busy day at the shop and decided after getting a second wind around four, that she was going to get some food to go. While in the drive-thru, she was struck with an idea.
“I know how much he loves Caesar’s Subs,” Mary told Officer Katie Phillips at the police station, patting the giant carry-out bag she had with her.
“I wish my mom would stop by and bring me lunch,” Katie whined. “She lives in Cincinnati.” She buzzed Mary into the bullpen behind the bulletproof front glass of the station. For a small-town police department, Morhollow had a safe station and for that Mary was eternally grateful.
As she followed Katie through the bullpen, the other officers waved and said hello. Everyone knew Captain Tuttle’s mom.
“Did you bring enough for all of us?” Officer Tom Higgs teased.
“Nope.” She lifted her chin. “Just for my one and only baby boy.”
The officers chuckled and went back to their work. They’d tease Andrew after his mommy left. Mary was sure of it and secretly loved it.
“Hey, Mama.” Andrew smiled when he looked up from his desk.
“Hi.” Mary smiled at the sight of her son behind a huge oak desk with his badge shining and stacks of important papers and folders on his desk. “You got time to have a bite with your old mom?” She held up the bag of Caesar’s Subs.
“Mom. You are a lifesaver. I was just wondering when I’d get out of here to get something to eat.” He stood up and stepped around the desk. “I’ll get some plates.”
“They got you working hard?”
“Ugh! If this Summer Moran was trouble when she was alive, she’s doubly so dead.”
Mary let out a laugh and then covered her mouth.
“I’ll be right back.” Andrew stepped out of the office while Mary took a seat in the chair in front of her son’s desk. As she leaned forward, she just happened to see the mug-shot photo of her new friend Bruce McGovern. Tilting her head slightly, she managed to make out the words Summer Moran on the file underneath it. Looking behind her and holding her breath, she tried to listen for her son. The kitchen was just on the other side of the bullpen. If she was going to make a move, she was going to have to do it immediately.
Without thinking, she set the bag down, grabbed Summer’s file from beneath Bruce’s, and flipped it open. Inside were the photos Edgar had taken at the crime scene as well as the autopsy photos.
Mary didn’t flinch. She was fascinated by the close-ups of Summer’s fingernails, each scratch and bruise she had received as well as the gruesome indication of something stuck in her throat. The last image was of the giant jellybeans. Mary thought they were the size of grape tomatoes.
“Yes, my mommy brought my lunch. You got a problem with that?” Andrew yelled to the officers ribbing him as he came back to his office. Quickly, she put the folder back underneath Bruce’s and began to unpack the contents of the sack.
“Are they giving you a hard time?”
“They’re just jealous.” Andrew handed her a couple of paper plates and took his seat behind his desk.
“You know, they’d really be jealous if you had some pretty lady bringing you food. You know. Like a girlfriend or something.”
Andrew took the sandwich marked ‘turkey’ for himself and put it on the plate. He cracked open both bottles of tea, placing one in front of her and the other next to him.
“Mom. I’ve got a murder to solve. The ladies are going to have to wait.”
“How’s all that coming?” Mary took a sip of tea.
Andrew took a giant bite of his sandwich, rolled his eyes, and shook his head. “Let’s just say the only thing I am sure of is that this is the best turkey sub in the world.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“Not too good, huh?”
“Well, we were going to pay the ex-boyfriend a visit but turns out he skipped town.”
“What?” Mary nearly choked on her first bite of Italian sub.
“Yeah. We went to his apartment and the bars he hangs out at, but one of our informants told us he skipped town in the middle of the night, just last night.” Andrew took a big gulp of tea. “Something spooked him.”
“Oh, dear.” Mary bit her lip.
“Mom?” It was as if Andrew could read her mind.
She looked him in the
eyes. “I saw Bruce McGovern.”
“What? When?”
“Last night. Well, it was more like early evening. Around seven o’clock. That’s when I ran into him.”
“Where did you just ‘run into him’?” Andrew leaned forward in his chair.
“The Little Dog Lounge.” She winced as she said the words.
“Mom.” Andrew’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Are you absolutely crazy? Have you lost your mind? Really? Please tell me you have some kind of mental condition you’re keeping from me. Dementia. Turret’s. Anything that might explain why you’d do something so dangerous.”
“Honey, I wasn’t in any danger.” Mary waved her hand in front of her. “I just happened to be there and so was he.”
Andrew stared at her, waiting for her to continue.
“I didn’t like how he was treated at Summer’s wake. They escorted him out.”
“And I can’t blame them, Mom.” Andrew took another swig of tea. “The guy hangs with a rough crowd. He’s got his fingerprints all over this. And now a little bird tipped him off and he’s fled.” Andrew waved his hand in the air like a bird taking flight, whistling.
Mary looked at her sandwich and then to her son. “Well, what are you going to do now?”
Andrew pulled open the bag of chips.
“Well, I’m not going to tell the chief my mom chased away our prime suspect. That’s for sure.” Andrew shook his head. “We knew there was a chance he was going to bolt anyway. We kept a lead of where he might be headed. No real harm done, Mom.”
“Well, I’m glad.” Mary took another bite of her sandwich.
“Hey, Andy. Can I bend your ear one… Oh, sorry.” Chief Karnes stepped into Andrew’s office. “Hello, Mrs. Tuttle. I didn’t know you were here.”
“Hi, Chief. I just brought Andrew some lunch.”
“Now isn’t that nice.” Chief Karnes smiled underneath his gray, bushy mustache. “I hope you realize how lucky you are to have a mom like this, Andy.”