"I don't think I like your attitude. And I want you to know I can handle myself. I've thrown a couple of people out of the library before."
"Just go call the Lexington Police Department and ask for Detective Gruber or Detective Sanchez and ask them if they have a Cy Dekker working on an investigation with them."
"Okay, but until I find out, you're waiting right there."
I stood there freezing, thinking "and this was the mousy librarian I had to eat with."
Just as my skin color changed from lobster red to Smurf blue she returned to the door.
"Detective Gruber wasn't there. That Sanchez guy wasn't either, but when they transferred me some woman answered and said 'Detective Sanchez,' so I guess she was answering the phone for him. Anyway she said you are who you say you are. I thought about calling back and asking to speak to a man, but I guess you're okay. Come in and make it quick. You're freezing me to death making me keep this door open."
I walked in and didn't wait for her to ask me to sit. I was afraid she would refuse.
"I'm sorry you had to speak to some woman, but good help is hard to keep these days. Now, I take it that you are Lucy Marlowe?"
"That's right! Some of us don't lie about who we are."
"And you admit that you contacted Just For You about using their service?"
"I must have been out of my mind."
"I assume I can take that as a 'yes.'"
"Take it however you like."
"Miss Marlowe, how many men have you dated through this service?"
"None."
"None? You met me, and I understand you've had dates with others."
"I don't call those dates. We didn't smooch or anything. And you didn't pick me up, of which I'm thankful."
"So, give me the names and dates of the men you met at The Cheesecake Factory."
"I'm not going to do that. You'd probably go to their place and tell them lies about me."
"Okay, then I will give them to you." I read a man's name. "And he's been murdered. And as far as I know you are the last person to have seen him alive."
I didn't know if he'd been murdered or not, since I hadn't received any update, but since Thursday had not yet arrived I guessed that there had been no more murders.
"Well, he probably deserved it. He wasn't much of a catch. Sort of like you."
"A few minutes ago you said you hadn't made up your mind about me yet."
"That's because I was afraid of what you might do if I told the truth."
"You should be afraid of what I might do if you don't tell the truth."
"Are you threatening me?"
"No, just telling it like it is."
I asked her a few more questions, but got nowhere. She was stubborn. I had upgraded her on my likely suspects list, but I had nothing that would allow me to arrest her. So, I told her to watch herself and that I was going. I started not to warn her about being careful about whom she opened the door to, but my conscience got the best of me, so I left her with those encouraging words.
+++
Lou saw a different look on my face when I returned to the van a second time.
"What happened there?"
"I badgered her, but I wanted to batter her."
He laughed.
"So, you won't be getting a Christmas card from her this year?"
"No birthday present, either."
I realized if my dates had been for real one of the three could have been a love connection, but I quickly thought of Jennifer and dismissed that thought. However, I thought better of myself when I remembered that the one of the three women where I told mostly the truth was the one where the dating service gave me a woman worthy of my affection.
+++
I wanted to forget about another woman. This time I turned on the radio. It was after 6:00. Cousin Brucie was doing his weekly show on 60s on 6. Listening to Cousin Brucie always puts my mind at ease. He seems like the kind of person you would call if you had a problem, and he reminded everyone that he would be giving away some more prizes to a caller with the correct answer. I figured that would happen about the time we were questioning another participant in the dating game. I looked Cousin Brucie up on the internet one time. I expected him to be a jolly old fat guy. Then I remembered that no one looks less like what you think they will look like than people on the radio.
31
I wanted to talk to Phil Pendleton before Lou and I headed somewhere to eat. It was already dark, but the wind was calm and there was no snow, so at least that was in our favor. I turned the radio back on and looked again at Pendleton's address. I remembered going there earlier and wondered if I would have any trouble finding his house in the dark. With Lou and I together, I figured one of us could recognize the house. I was through with women, well through with coming clean to those I had met at The Cheesecake Factory, so I planned to take Lou in with me when we found Pendleton's house. A few minutes later I pulled up in front of it and was excited to see there were lights on inside. Lou and I jumped out of the van and hurried to the door. A few seconds later we were greeted by someone I assumed was Phil Pendleton.
"Are you Phil Pendleton?"
"I am. And you are?"
"I'm Cy Dekker, Special Investigator for the Lexington Police Department, and this is my associate Lou Murdock. I have some questions for you about a matter we are investigating."
"If this has to do with my job I'm not sure I'm at liberty to answer any of your questions."
"No, it's an entirely different matter."
"I'm curious now. Come in and have a seat."
"Mr. Pendleton, I'll come right to the point."
Those words seemed to unnerve him.
"Has Just For You dating service arranged any dates for you?"
He smiled.
"One. And it worked out well. At least I think it did. I met a young lady through them and we seemed to hit it off, and I've been trying to call her for a date, but I can never reach her. The call keeps going to voice mail. And I know she liked me, too. She sent back a green card just like I did."
He started to explain what a green card was, but I waved him off.
"I assume the young lady you're talking about is Diane Elliott."
"That's right," was his response, but his look returned to one of concern.
"Mr. Pendleton, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Miss Elliott has been murdered."
"Murdered?"
"And not only Miss Elliott, but others who have used the agency have been murdered, too."
"You mean some maniac has been running around murdering innocent women?"
"Well some of the victims were men."
"But who would do something like that?"
"That's why we're here. Tell me, when was the last time you saw Miss Elliott, or talked to her?"
"Well, it was the night we went out. We had a great time together. I felt good about having more dates with her, and I left that place with a smile on my face."
"By that place do you mean The Cheesecake Factory?"
"That's right. That's some place."
"Have you been back there since your date with Miss Elliott?"
"No. No reason to go back."
"Tell me about your day last Thursday."
"Was that the day she was murdered?"
"Just answer the question."
"Well, it was about like every other day. I was out calling on doctor's offices all day."
"And after work?"
"Let's see. Thursday. Oh, yeah! That was the night I met some friends for dinner at Malone's."
"And what did you do between work and dinner?"
"Well, the friends I was meeting were a couple of couples I've known for a while. We get together every so often for dinner and catch up. Sometimes I take a date, but I didn't that night. Thursday was my friend's wife's birthday, so I went shopping and bought her something, then met them for dinner."
"Let's stop there. Why didn't you have a date this time?"
&nb
sp; "I just never took the time to ask anyone. Besides, I thought I might have something going with Diane."
"And you didn't call her to invite her to join you that night."
"I thought about it, but I wanted to get to know her a little better before I turned my friends loose on her. They would have tried to have us married before the month was over."
"And before you met her, where did you get most of your dates?"
"Most of the women I took to dinner were nurses or receptionists in one of the doctor's offices I call on. I must tell you. I'm a flirt. I flirt with all the women, even the older ones."
"And you say that Thursday was a typical day for you."
"Except for dinner out."
"And what is your normal work schedule?"
"I call on doctor's offices Monday through Friday."
"Pretty busy are you?"
"Pretty much."
"Let's say you have to pick up some dry cleaning, or have a bill to pay. Does your day allow you to take time to do things like that?"
"Oh, yeah! Well, most days. Occasionally, I have a day where I have to grab lunch on the run."
"Some days busier than others?"
"Yeah, Monday and Friday are my busiest days. Wednesday's the slowest."
"And have you dated any other women through this service?"
"No, she was the first. And I thought she was a perfect match. I hate it that this happened to her. I sure hope you find the guy."
"Oh, we'll find him. Or her. We're not sure yet who the murderer is. It just looks like it might be someone who filled out an application for the dating service."
"So, you think the people who run the business are on the up and up?"
"Well, we can't rule them out completely. But for one of them to do it would be like a wolf chewing off his own foot."
"I see what you mean. Well, you can cross me off, too. No man would kill a woman who made his heart go aflutter."
"Well, technically, we can't rule out anyone yet. But whoever it is, we'll get them."
"I'm sure you will. Well, will that be all?"
"Just a few more things to go over with you."
I asked him a few more questions, then got up to leave. I stopped on my way to the door and turned to ask him another question.
"Oh, Mr. Pendleton, will you contact the agency again for another date?"
"Probably. After all the first one worked out okay. Well, except that she was murdered. Do you think that I or another young lady I might date could be in any danger?"
"Well, there is that possibility. But we will be watching more closely, now that we have some idea what we are dealing with."
"Well, maybe I'll see you soon at The Cheesecake Factory. Of course with that place, I don't think anyone could have a really bad date."
I thought of mentioning the names of two of my dates, but refrained from doing so. Instead, Lou and I walked out.
+++
"Well, what do you think, Lou?"
"I think it's time to eat."
"Me, too. Where do you want to go?"
"We're going home tomorrow, Cy. Is that right?"
"We are."
"And if we come back we won't be back right away?"
"Well, it depends on your definition of right away. I don't think we'll be back before next week at the earliest. I think we need to take back what we've gathered so far and go over it."
"Well, The Cheesecake Factory still has a lot of things on the menu we haven't sampled."
I smiled. It was the best thing Lou had said all day. But then I couldn't think of anything else he had said that day that I agreed with.
+++
We were most of the way through our meal, and about to order a piece of cheesecake each when I got an idea. I looked up at Lou and waited until he looked at me.
"Lou, would you be interested in doing something tomorrow, for old times sake?"
"You mean checking out early and driving home to eat breakfast at the Blue Moon?"
"How did you know what I was thinking?"
"Well, we are twins."
"Twins?"
"Well, except that I got the looks and the brains."
"Lou, it's always bothered me that you got the looks and brains you did. But it's never seemed to bother our friendship. You've resigned yourself to the fact that I look and think better than you do."
He shook his head, and then we returned to the matter at hand.
"So, Cy, if I say 'yes,' can you go there without falling off the wagon?"
"Yeah, Lou. Let's limit ourselves to two eggs and three pieces of bacon each, like we do at home."
"Do you think Rosie will be willing to serve us so little?"
"Well, probably, but first she'll ask, 'What do you really want?'"
+++
As soon as I got back to my room I made a phone call.
"Eve Sanchez."
"Cy Dekker here."
"And you're not stuttering. Have you found our murderer yet?"
"Well, I'm going around meeting all the suspects. Some of them are higher on my list than others. I told you I'd check in with you. Tomorrow's Thursday. Murder day. Lou and I are going home, but when we get there we're going to look over everything we know and see if we can solve this thing from a distance. But I have a question. Since all of the murders have happened on a Thursday, does the department plan anything tomorrow to check on suspects or possible victims?"
"We don't have the manpower to check on everyone, but I'm curious as to who is or is not leaving the house where the dating service operates. So, we'll have someone posted outside of that house. And we'll have a couple of guys checking some of the more recent ones who sent back green cards. They can't babysit them, but they can check a few times a day and hope none of them have their final visitor."
I thanked her and told her I'd let her know if I came up with any ideas.
+++
I ended one call and punched in the number of the next call.
"This is Sam I am, dining on green eggs and ham."
"Eating late tonight, aren't you, Sam?"
"So, Cy, did you just get in from a date? Is that why are you calling me so late?"
"No date tonight. I just got back to my suite at the Hilton Suites and figured you might be lonely. Actually Sam, I've got some people I want you to check on. Add that to anything else you come up with about all these murders and I'll be happy."
"You're in a suite, Cy? Was the homeless shelter full?"
I ignored Sam's question and gave him the names of the people I wanted him to check on, and if he knew the whereabouts of any of them on the last two or three Thursdays that would be great, too."
He told me he would get back to me before Christmas.
32
I love listening to 60s on 6 in the morning. Not only do I get to listen to the songs I didn't get to listen to growing up, but Phlash Phelps makes the show more interesting with his City of the Day and talking to callers who call in from every burg in the country. Phlash seems to know every large and small town in America and to have been there on his many vacations. Anytime I think of him I think of the song I've Been Everywhere. He has callers guess the City of the Day from a clue he gives them, and each day he chooses something that fits in with current events. I felt good as I drove and he talked to a caller who was knee-deep in snow, but not so good when another person called in and told Phlash the temperature where he lived was seventy-two degrees.
+++
It was a little after 10:00 when I pulled the van up in front of the Blue Moon. Lou and I sat there, studied the building for a few seconds, thinking of all the good memories we'd made there. Overeating. Playing Mountains and Roads with our mashed potatoes. Seeing which one of us could flip the most peas into the other guy's volcano. And just knowing that we were welcome every time we darkened the doors of the place. Finally, we got out of my van and walked in. There was a woman sitting in a chair at one of the tables. It took me a minute to realize that it was
Rosie. A little grayer, but still Rosie. She didn't realize who we were at first either, but as soon as she did she jumped up and down and starting screaming. She hurried over and looked at us.
"Is it really you?"
When we both grinned and nodded, she asked, "What is it? Cancer? How long do they give you? You've already wasted away to nothing."
"Rosie, as far as we know there's nothing wrong with us. We've both just lost a lot of weight. We feel better and can move around better now. Now, do we get hugs, or not?"
She lunged at both of us and managed to get her arms halfway around us.
"What's it been? Two years?"
"I don't think it's quite that long. I just know it's been too long. So, what's new?"
"Well, I own the place now. Old man Cooper practically gave it to me. My house is paid for. I'm drawing Social Security now. So, I only have to clear $400 a month from this place. Some months even that is tough, without those thousands you two used to drop here. So, can I fix you some breakfast?"
"You can. But just two eggs and three pieces of bacon."
"So you're still dieting?"
"If you call bacon and eggs dieting."
"Oh by the way, we stopped baking pies after you two left us high and dry. But if you want to drop by sometime, just call me ahead of time and tell me what you want and I can fix it for you."
We agreed to do that, then shushed her so she could go fix breakfast. Not only did she own the place, but she seemed to be the only one there.
She read my mind and said, "I have a cook that comes in on busy days. We have some retired guys that meet here twice a week for breakfast. There are enough of them to fill the place. Well, almost fill it."
Lou and I walked over, hoisted ourselves up, and plopped down on the same two stools where we always sat, with one vacant stool between us, while Rosie went to the kitchen and fixed our bacon and eggs. We spun around on our stools until we started to get dizzy. When we stopped I could see Rosie laughing at us from the kitchen. We could see her through the opening, so the three of us talked while she cooked. It was good to be home again and getting up on the stool was less of a struggle considering I didn't have as much weight to hoist up. Ten minutes after Rosie left to cook our breakfast she brought us our food, and both of us played with it and joked with Rosie, who told us to behave or she would tell the owner. We filled her in on how our lives had changed since we had seen her, minus the details of our current case. We were there over an hour. When a woman with two small children came in for an early lunch, we knew it was time for Rosie to go to work and Lou and I to go to my place and do the same.
Steve Demaree - Dekker 09 - Murder on a Blind Date Page 15