I drove out of the parking lot and tried to forget all that had happened that night. That meant I wouldn't think of Bambi, but of some nutcase out there who was running around killing men. Bambi was merely one gumball in the machine, and the chances of her being the murderer were just one in several hundred. I questioned how much it was going to help me to "date" three of these women. Chances were that none of the three the dating service would pair me up with was the murderer. I was hoping that Sam would soon find out more information to help me identify the killer. Should I just give up and let someone else take over? And what if the killer was someone in Las Vegas who came here long enough to murder a few people and then went back to the strip? And what could the motive be? Rejection? Could it be as simple as finding a woman who dated three men who gave her green cards? Or jealousy? Finding a man whose former girlfriend had met someone a lot better?
+++
I took the country roads back to Hilldale, thankful that there was no ice or snow on those roads. Actually my route took me on past Hilldale, to a remote location on the other side of town. It was after 10:30 when I pulled down a driveway that was long overdue to be blacktopped again. I put the lights on bright, because the driveway was narrow, and there were trees and animals nearby. I knew that none of the trees would move. I couldn't say the same about the animals. I slapped the steering wheel as I hit the brakes and came to a stop. My van was nowhere to be seen. I focused, tried to remember if I was at the right house. I thought I was, but the first time I was at this guy's house was just a few hours before, and I didn't pay a lot of attention to where he lived. I thought about walking up to the door and knocking, but there didn't seem to be any other vehicles there and it was dark inside the house. I sat there for five minutes, trying to decide whether or not to wait. Should I keep the guy's truck overnight, go back out to the road and check out another house on down the road, or wait to see if the guy came home? I figured ten minutes wouldn't matter that much, so I would give him that long. Just before the ten minutes were up I saw a light in the distance, heading down the driveway. I figured it was either the guy I wanted or the next one in line to borrow his truck. I felt a sigh of relief when I recognized my van, and there were no dents on the front or the side that I could see. The guy came to a stop and popped out.
"Sorry! George didn't tell me if you were bringing the truck back tonight or tomorrow. Did you see the note I left you on the door? I ran out of pork rinds and what good is a movie without pork rinds?"
I removed my cheesecake and what was left over from my entree from his truck, and he plucked the bag containing his pork rinds from my van. I thanked him for the use of his truck, and he told me that if I gave him five hundred dollars to boot that he would be willing to trade vehicles with me. I told him I would think about it and hurried away down the narrow driveway, trying to locate the moon again.
14
I managed to get home without any more delays, pulled into my driveway just before 11:30, and hurried in the house and to bed. I hoped a good night's sleep would prepare me for what I expected the next day. George was the first to call, just after 10:00.
"Cy, my wife has to run into Lexington today and we were wondering if you and your playmate are registered anywhere?"
"Just at the Humane Society."
"Maybe it was the lighting in that place last night, but it seemed like you were a bit uncomfortable. Was that the first time you've had a date in a while?"
"No, I think it was the ambiance."
"The what?"
"That's another word for the riffraff they serve in that place."
"I noticed that you left first so you could get the truck and pick her up at the door. You didn't break down out on some country road, did you?"
"No, but your friend did offer to trade vehicles with me, provided I kick in five hundred dollars."
George laughed.
"I can understand. That truck has given him a lot of memories."
"Well, I don't plan on it giving me any more memories."
George laughed again.
"So, Cy, have you decided to marry this one, or are you going to take a chance on the next one?"
"No, George, this one is yours if you want her. I'm just waiting until I find out if she's the murderer before I give her to you."
"I admit she's quite a killer. My wife told me she used to wear lipstick that color twenty years ago. And I ran into Lou and a couple of women after you left. One of the women was crying, said she had given you the best years of her life."
"If it's the woman I'm thinking of I think her best years are ahead of her. Well, thanks for checking up on me. Did Lou by any chance tell you what time he'll be checking in?"
"No, but I think he's concerned about you."
"I'm concerned about him, too. I keep hoping he'll start taking his medication. Either that or get himself an old hound dog."
I hung up. George must have called Frank as soon as he quit talking to me because ten minutes later Frank called.
"Cy, it's Frank. I'm just checking up on you, making sure you're still alive. You know how I need to be the first one to call whenever a body turns up."
"Well, as you know, one turned up last night. But she lives down near Nicholasville, so she's out of your jurisdiction."
"So, you're planning on moving down there after you tie the knot?"
"I don't plan to tie any knots, but I'm sure I'll have to move farther away than Nicholasville. You know how they keep looking for someone after they've hung three police officers."
"Three?"
"Yeah, counting Lou. He hasn't checked in yet, but I'm sure he will."
"But he doesn't count. He's a has been. He doesn't work any longer. Kind of like you."
"Goodbye, Frank. If I find any dead bodies I'll send them your way. It'll keep you out of restaurants."
Lou took his time calling. It was afternoon before I heard from him.
"What took you so long to call, Lou? The others checked in hours ago."
"I wasn't sure if you came home last night."
"I thought about waiting out in the bushes at your place, with a round of buckshot."
"Is that any way to talk to a friend who spent an entire night protecting you from a murderer?"
"Maybe next time we trade places?"
"I think I'll pass, Cy. It was nice last night. I could tell everyone was jealous because I had two good-looking women."
"Did you give both of them a green card?"
"I'm leaning toward yellow. I want to keep my options open."
"I'm glad to hear that. You should hear back this week on that application you sent in to the dating service. Write this down so you won't forget. Your name is Norville Ledbetter."
"Very funny. I don't look anything like a Norville Bedwetter."
"Have it your way. Maybe the woman they fix you up with will see through you right away. You interested in reading today?"
"I thought I might."
I looked at my stack of books as I asked Lou what he wanted to read. We talked it over and decided to spend our weekend with Mary Higgins Clark. That sounded good to me. She was one of my favorites.
The last thing I told Lou before I hung up was not to answer the door in case some cute young thing knocked on it. Particularly if she had something to drink in her hand.
+++
I located the Mary Higgins Clark book, read a couple hundred pages, then took a break for a nap. It's nice to be able to take a nap whenever I want, and not have to take one to catch up on all the sleep I had missed.
A little less than an hour later I woke up and looked out the window. No one was sneaking up on me, trying to kidnap me. I wouldn't mind getting kidnapped, as long as the kidnapper was Jennifer.
I was feeling good so I walked over to the Wii and gave it a workout. I warmed up by dodging oncoming soccer balls, then switched and played some ping pong. I upped the ante and moved on to tennis, before ending with boxing. I was tired by the time I got through,
particularly my arms. I lay back in the recliner before wrestling up something for supper. My refrigerator no longer looked like one found by a homeless man, who stored his under the bridge where he slept during the summer. Mine had even been upgraded from one that looked like it belonged to Oscar Madison, but it didn't quite mirror one from one of those cooking shows on TV. In other words I had a couple of choices other than a peanut butter sandwich. I fixed the one that took the least time and plopped it down on a TV tray while I located a movie suitable for Saturday night for a man who was all by himself and full of himself. I opened the case, carefully removed Dirty Harry, and slid the DVD into the player.
+++
I got up Sunday morning and started working, checking items off my list. I wanted to eliminate looking in the mirror while I shaved, but was too afraid if I did so I would draw blood. I shaved, showered, and popped out of the bathroom without needing reconstructive surgery. I was even able to fix my breakfast without burning myself and eat it without spilling any on the shirt I intended to wear to church. I usually don't burn myself when I eat cold cereal, but I have been known to spill some of it. I wanted my streak of good luck to continue, so I spent some time with God before heading out to spend more time with Him. I prayed and read my devotionals, put my shoes on, and walked over to the phone. It was time to call Lou to see if he had been kidnapped again. This time he answered on the first ring. That was good because it really depresses a person if they get kidnapped twice in the same month. There were two bad things about Lou's first kidnapping. One, the kidnapper, who more than likely was also a murderer, hadn't been apprehended. Two, because Lou escaped we never got to find out what he was worth to the kidnapper. I cast my vote for $2.99.
"Hey, Cy! Have you looked outside this morning?"
"No. Are you trying to tell me that someone stole my van in the middle of the night?"
"No. Just wanted you to know that the white stuff we have been expecting has just made an appearance."
"Lou, haven't you heard of Head and Shoulders?"
"I'm talking about snow."
"How much so far?"
"My guess is a sixteenth of an inch, but they're saying we might get ten inches or more by the time it quits."
"If they're saying that, I'm saying I won't be going anywhere after I get home from church. So, are you ready? I'm out the door as I speak."
I picked up my keys, put my coat on, and headed out the door. As I hit the first step a huge snowflake hit me in the right eye. Well, at least the ground wasn't covered yet, and I didn't think it would be too bad when church was over.
15
Lou and I were pelted with falling snow as we walked out of the church. On the way to the parking lot I had an epiphany.
"Lou, if what they say is true, we aren't going to want to go anywhere else for a while. Do you have any interest in going out to eat and stocking up for the rest of today and tomorrow?"
I explained to him what I meant and he was game. We headed to Antonio's. Both of us ordered a large Stromboli with French fries and gravy to eat there, and a medium pizza and a sandwich of prosciutto ham and fontina cheese to go. My pizza had pepperoni, sausage, green peppers, black and green olives, red onions, and extra cheese on it. Lou chose bacon, green peppers, and Roma tomatoes on his. I planned to eat half of the pizza each of the next two nights, and the other sandwich for lunch on Monday. I would worry about Tuesday when Tuesday arrived.
After we left Antonio's, I dropped Lou at his place, drove home on streets with few tracks on them, and gave the van a running start so that I could make it into my driveway on my first try. My guess was that we had four inches of snow so far, but I refrained from going into the house and finding a ruler to see how close my guess was. I also resisted a mild urge to build a snowman or build a snow fort and crawl inside. I didn't do those things as a boy, and I had no desire to live the childhood I never had. At least not that part of it.
Once I had deposited my rations into the refrigerator I headed for my recliner and reached for the Mary Higgins Clark book I had left on the end table next to it. Before the night was over I planned to read the rest of the book and solve the crime. After all, I was Cy Dekker, crime fighter extraordinaire.
+++
In a weak moment I felt I needed to compare Bambi Fontaine to a couple of other women who had contacted the agency about a date, so Sunday night I filled out a second application. This time I listed things that were the truth, except for my name and former profession. It's easier not to get caught as long as most of what you say is the truth. I wondered with whom the agency would fix up the real Cy Dekker. Well, almost the real Cy. I tucked another one hundred dollar bill inside the application, folded it, and opened the door and put it over the mailbox.
+++
I woke up Monday morning in familiar surroundings, and freezing. I picked myself up from the floor, climbed back up onto my bed, and covered up. I looked at my watch and contemplated a suitable time for a man to get out of bed, a man who doesn't have to go to work and doesn't have a wife to tell him to get out of bed. A few minutes later I sniffed but couldn't smell the bacon frying, then remembered who was the only person there to fry bacon.
It was still a little chilly, so I got up, put on my robe, and tied it. I remembered what it looked like outside the day before, just before dark, so I looked out my bedroom window to see what changes had unfolded. All the snow on the ground made me sad that I wasn't a student who would be missing school that day, and then I remembered I didn't have to go anywhere anyway. The day was mine. No one was going to ruin it. At least I hoped not.
I fixed myself a breakfast of bacon, eggs, hash browns, toast, butter, and jelly, and sat down to enjoy my creation. No one was there with me. Still I refrained from playing in my food or licking the egg yolk and jelly from my plate when I finished.
I had to spend the day with myself, so I headed to the bathroom to shower and shave, so I wouldn't look or smell too bad. I got dressed, and added a sweater to my ensemble. It was a solid red one that Jennifer bought me for Christmas. I wasn't sure how I was going to spend my day, but ten minutes later someone made it easier on me. No, no one had left any bodies on my doorstep, nor any clues on how to solve the murders I already knew about. But someone did knock on my door. I wondered who would come calling on such a day. I hadn't heard a vehicle pull up. I satisfied my curiosity, and opened my front door to find, Bob, my mailman, standing there.
"I have a delivery for you, Lieutenant. Something you might want to help you spend the day."
I had forgotten that I had ordered a couple of movies.
"Well, thank you, Bob. I'm sorry you have to come out in this weather."
"You know what they say, through rain and snow and sleet and hail. Besides, tomorrow is my day off. I don't think all this stuff will melt before then, so making tracks to your house will be someone else's problem tomorrow. Not that you're a problem. Oh, and on the way over here, I saw Mark. He said he will be by this afternoon to shovel your snow, but if you need to go anywhere before then to give him a call."
"Thanks, Bob. Would you like to come in for some hot chocolate before you go? I can have it ready for you in a couple of minutes."
Bob realized how cold he was and stepped in. But before he did he picked up the envelope I had put over the mailbox the night before.
"Hey, Lieutenant. Who's this Al Monson guy?"
"Al Monson?"
"Yeah, it says on this envelope. Al Monson."
"Oh, that Al Monson. He's a friend of mine."
"I thought I knew everyone who lives in Hilldale. Being a mail carrier and all, you know. And he lives over on Yardley. My mother lives on Yardley. I'll have to ask her if she knows him."
"Well, Al's a low profile kind of guy. Doesn't mix much."
"Wonder why he didn't mail it from his place. I know the guy who delivers over there. He would have picked it up."
"Al was over here a few minutes ago, said he forgot to mail it from his place. Wan
ted to know if I'd mail it for him."
"That's odd."
"Oh, I've mailed things for people before."
"That's not what I was talking about. It's not snowing as hard now. I wouldn't have thought it wouldn't have covered up someone's tracks yet if he was just here a few minutes ago."
"Could have been over an hour. You know how time flies. Bob, why didn't you go to work for the department? You would have made a good detective."
"So far no one's shot at me on this job. Besides, I think I understand now. I think I know who Al Monson is. But that's okay. You're not married. No one's going to care if you step out every now and then. And I won't say what Just For You sounds like. You know what they say. A mailman knows someone better than the guy's neighbors know him."
It was too late to rescind my invitation of hot chocolate.
"It's not what you think, Bob. It has to do with a case I'm working on."
"I thought you retired."
"You know how it is. When you're good someone will always come knocking at your door. So, do you have any idea how much snow we've had?"
"I was talking to Mrs. Edmonds over on Mockingbird and she said her digital gauge said we've had 11.7 inches so far."
Steve Demaree - Dekker 09 - Murder on a Blind Date Page 7