by Marja McGraw
“As soon as possible, I’ll have the paperwork done and you can move in, Sandi. I’m glad I can do this for you. And then guess what we’re going to do.”
“What?”
“We’re going to have a treasure hunt.”
“You don’t really believe the gold was hidden there, do you? Vincente didn’t even live there at the time he hid the gold.”
“Sandi, I have a gut feeling. And don’t forget all the things that were stored in that attic. Why, who knows what we’ll find?”
I smiled at her, not knowing what else to say, and I knew I was close to tears because of what she was doing for me. I didn’t want to do that – to cry. So I ended up giggling with her.
Mother settled herself into Pete’s chair at the office while I checked the answering machine. There weren’t any messages. There was work to be done, but I was too excited.
Mother started patting her chest.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Heart palpitations. It’s one of the symptoms of the curse and it drives me nuts sometimes. It’ll stop in a minute.” She started fanning herself again. I was actually beginning to get used to the frequent fanning.
Then the phone rang. Isn’t that always the way? You’ve got work to do and you’re trying to carry on a conversation, and the phone interrupts. It seems like you never quite get back to where you were before the ring.
“Webster & Goldberg. May I help you?”
“Sandi? This is Amanda. I think I’m in major trouble.”
“What’s going on?”
“It’s him. Somebody bailed Alan out and he says he’s gonna take care of me.”
“Where are you?”
“Pete called to warn me Alan was out, so my friend said I could spend the day at her place. He can’t find me right now, but I can’t hide forever. He left a message on my cell phone, and he sounded really pissed off.”
“He’s bound to be angry after last night. Can you stay with your friend for the night?”
“No. Long story, but no, I can’t. I’m gonna have to go home later. I can stay here until around five, but then it’s home for me. What am I gonna do?” I could hear her cracking her gum. She was chewing rapidly and definitely sounded agitated. The childlike voice gave her concerns even more emphasis.
“Give me your cell phone number so I can reach you wherever you go, and I’ll find Pete. We’ll work something out and I’ll call you back.”
“Yeah, that Pete is really something, huh? Is he, like, married or something?”
Oh, for crying out loud! “No, Pete’s not married or something.” I knew I sounded testy, but I couldn’t help myself. His affect on women wore thin sometimes.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you guys had a thing going,” she apologized.
“We don’t have a thing. It’s just that it’s been a very busy day,” I lied. “Besides, don’t you think you have enough problems for the moment without worrying about Pete?”
“Like I said, sorry. Call me as soon as you know something. I’ll be holding my breath.” She chuckled and hung up.
Not too professional on my part. I shouldn’t have snapped at her.
“What was that about?” Mother asked.
“Amanda’s stalker is out on bail and threatening her.”
“No, I meant what you said about Pete.”
“Oh, that. Nothing. Nothing at all.”
“He is a charismatic man, Sandi. I can see why women would be attracted to him, but I honestly don’t think you have anything to worry about. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I don’t think he has eyes for anyone else.”
“Yeah? You think so?” Suddenly my mother’s opinion meant so much to me. I wanted her to be right. It felt so natural to be with Pete.
“I do, honey. Quit worrying. You and Pete seem to have a very special relationship. Besides, who else would put up with your line of work?”
I glanced at her and she was smiling.
“Thanks, Mom.”
I tapped my fingers on the desk. I had to find Pete so we could put a plan together.
“Say, I have an idea.” Mother’s voice slipped past my thoughts about Amanda and finding Pete.
“What’s that?”
“Frank and I will be gone for a few days, so why not hide Amanda in our room at the motel? This stalker person would never think to look for her there.”
“Mother, you’re a genius. I should have thought of that. Pete and I had to hide out in a motel once. Guess I had other things on my mind. A motel would be the best place for her.”
“Yes, dear, and if you put her in our room, it will be under Frank’s name. He won’t find her there. Besides, our motel isn’t anywhere near her house. You and Pete stayed in a motel?”
I ignored her question.
“Great plan. I’ll call Pete and tell him what I’m doing.”
I started to dial his cell phone, then saw it sitting on his desk. Pulling the telephone book off a filing cabinet behind my desk, I turned to the yellow pages and found the number for the bar. I picked up the phone and dialed.
“Crazy Larry’s,” a gravelly voice answered. There was a lot of background noise. I could hear the game on the TV, and I could also hear men’s loud voices.
“Hi. Would you please see if there’s a Pete Goldberg there?” I asked.
“Hold on.” He sounded bored.
“Is there a Pete Goldstein here?”
Goldberg, you doofus, I thought to myself. I waited for what seemed like an eternity.
“Yo.” Good. Pete was there.
“How are you guys doing?”
“Hey, Sandi. We’re doin’ okay. Knockin’ back a few brewskies and watching some baseball.” His voice was loud, and unfortunately, he sounded a little too happy. I wondered how many beers they’d had.
“Pete, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, sweetie. How about you?”
“I’m fine.” This wasn’t going to be easy. I could tell he was a bit too relaxed for what we needed to take care of over the next few hours. “Any chance you could quit drinking and sober up soon?”
“What’s up?” His voice took on a more serious tone.
“Amanda just called and the ex-boyfriend is on the prowl again. He left a threatening message on her cell phone. I’m going to put her up in Mother and Frank’s room for the night so she’ll be out of the way and you and I can take care of business.”
“Hmm. Maybe you’d better come pick us up. Don’t think any of us are really in the best condition to drive. I’m not drunk, Sandi, but I am feeling pretty – ”
“We’ll be right there,” I replied.
“We?”
“Mother will be with me.”
“Oh. I’d better go talk to Frank. I’ll get the guys started on coffee.”
“You do that, and we’ll be there in a few minutes. Bye.”
I checked the phone book again for Crazy Larry’s address and jotted it down on a piece of paper.
“Come on, Mom. We’ve got to pick up the guys. And by the way, it sounds like they’re all in a pretty good mood.”
“Really? Well. This could prove to be an interesting afternoon. I did say I wanted Frank to have some time away from me.” She paused. “Uh oh, is he drunk?”
“I don’t think so, but it sounds like they’re sure not feeling any pain right now. Pete’s going to switch everyone over to coffee, for all the good that will do.”
“Amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Frank drunk.”
“I don’t think they’re actually drunk, Mom, but they shouldn’t be driving either.”
We found Crazy Larry’s without any problems, and I parked in the side parking lot, next to a couple of motorcycles. As we approached the front door, we could hear rowdy voices. I wondered what we were walking into, but straightened my back and moved forward with purpose.
“I’m going in,” I said.
“You sound like you’re entering a war zone,” Mother replied.
&
nbsp; “You never know.”
Chapter Twenty-five
I pushed through the door with my mother following. It was dark, smoky and smelled like beer.
A guy with long hair, a shaggy beard and a mustache looked up from the pool table. He was wearing ratty jeans and a T-shirt with an old denim vest over it. His arms were covered with tattoos.
“Hey, baby,” he hollered.
“Hey. That’s my baby,” Pete said. He slapped the guy good-naturedly on the back as he passed him.
“Lucky you,” the guy replied.
I glanced at my mother and her expression seemed to be somewhere between amused and concerned.
“The older broad ain’t bad either,” his partner commented. He had the same general appearance, but fewer tattoos.
“That’s my broad,” Frank stated in no uncertain terms, “so hands off.”
Both of the bikers laughed and one of them gave Frank a thumbs up signal.
“Broad? Now I’m an old broad?” Actually, Mother sounded quite amused. “Oh, well, at least I’m Frank’s broad, and I ‘ain’t bad’ either.”
“Pete. Get the guys and let’s go.”
I was ready to leave. Crazy Larry’s was a good name for the place. While I waited for the boys, I took a good look around. Surprisingly, there were a couple of men in business suits huddled in the far corner. I assumed the guys at the pool table owned the motorcycles I’d seen in the parking lot. Two very old men sat at the far end of the bar, and a bum was walking out of the Men’s Room. I noticed as I took a step that the floor crunched under my feet. Glancing down, I saw peanut shells decorating the linoleum, along with cigarette butts and things I’d rather not take the time to identify. There were Christmas lights strung along the wall behind the bar, presumably to give the place a festive air. It didn’t work.
“You play pool?” The biker guy pointed at me.
“Never learned how.”
“I do.” Mother was walking toward the table.
“My kinda woman.” Mr. Biker was racking up the balls and offering my mother a pool cue with the same finesse a waiter would use to offer a bottle of wine.
“Mother, we’ve got to get moving,” I said.
“Lighten up and let the lady play.” This came from Biker Number Two. “You could learn how, you know.”
“Not today. But thanks.”
I sighed. I guess I could join the boys for a while.
“I didn’t know my mother could play pool.” I stood in front of Pete, Frank and Stanley, feeling like the proverbial party pooper.
“I have a feeling there’s probably a lot you don’t know about your mother,” Pete said. “Pull up a chair and talk to me. What’s so important that you had to drive over here to pick us up?”
“I told you, Amanda called. Alan is out of jail and gunning for her.”
“Ah.” This from Stanley, who probably didn’t even know what we were talking about.
“Anyway, we’re going to hide her in the motel room where my mother and Frank have been staying. Then you and I have to get this guy off the streets and out of Amanda’s life.”
I’d been watching Stanley while I spoke to Pete. He was tapping his knee with his hand in time to the music coming from an old jukebox. Every once in a while he missed his knee. It was very distracting. And he was smiling. It was the goofiest grin I’d ever seen.
“What has Stanley been drinking?” I asked, no longer able to contain myself. “He looks like he’s ready to fall off his chair.”
“He’s okay. He’s only had beer, but he’s had a few. How ya doin’, Stan? You okay over there? Sandi thinks you’d better slow down. She’s probably right, you know.”
“I’m jus’ fine,” he replied, missing his knee again. “This place is awright. I think I better straighten up and find the little boy’s room though. Things are lookin’ wavery. No, I guess they’re feelin’ wavery.” He jumped up and ran toward the restroom, running right smack dab into the door, bouncing back when he missed the knob. At least he caught himself and didn’t fall.
“Pete, you’d better go help him,” I suggested.
“Not on your life. Stanley’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
“Frank?” I looked to him for help.
“I agree with Pete, Sandi. Let Stanley be a man. He can do it.”
By that time Stanley had finally found the doorknob and disappeared.
“Sandi, relax and have a drink. Have a coke or something while we sit here and sober up – not that we’re drunk, but still…” Pete’s voice trailed off into nothingness.
Had I entered another dimension? My mother was playing pool with bikers, Pete and Frank were feeling their oats, and Stanley was, well, blasted. What next?
I watched my mother playing pool. She was bent over the table, picking off the balls like an expert. Click. Click. A ball hit the side of the table, bounced off and hit another one, knocking it into the pocket.
I didn’t like the way one of the bikers was watching her backside. He was leering at my mother’s rear end, for crying out loud! I turned to Frank to say something, but never got the chance.
“Wanna dance, lady?” The bum had singled me out.
“Thank you, but no.”
“Aw, come on.” He was persistent. “I’m a good dancer.”
“I’m sure you are, but I’m not.” I slid a bit closer to Pete.
“Next time, pal.” Pete waved the bum off.
“Okay. Promise?”
“I promise,” I said. “Next time.”
Glancing back at the biker, I saw that he was no longer watching Mother’s derriere. Click. He took a shot and missed. Mother laughed and shook her finger at him.
Stanley shuffled his way back to the table and sat down, resuming his knee tapping. His eyes didn’t look too focused, and he was still grinning.
“No more for you, Stanley.” I took his beer mug and set it across the table from him.
“Spoil sport,” he grumbled.
“You’ll thank me in the morning.”
I turned around to see how Mother was doing and noticed that someone new had entered the bar. He bought a pack of cigarettes from the bartender and sat down in the seat nearest the door. Something about him seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place the face.
“Are you okay, Stanley?” I asked, concerned about this usually oh-so-quiet man.
“Please, Shandi, I’d prefer you to call me Shtan from now on. No more Shtanley, jus’ plain ol’ Shtan. Oookey dokey?”
“Sure, Stan. Are you okay?”
“Jus’ fine. Havin’ a good time.”
The bartender started yelling and I turned toward him.
“Hey!” He was yelling at the newcomer who was now running out the door. “Get back here and pay for your drink.”
I glanced at the door just in time to see the back of a man with a thick neck, thinning hair and a short, braided pony tail fleeing out the door. I didn’t know the face, but I sure knew the back of his head. I jumped up.
“Pete, it’s that guy. Come on,” I urged, pulling on his arm.
“What guy?”
I pulled harder, trying to make Pete understand that we needed to catch the man and find out what he wanted.
Useless. It was absolutely useless to try to catch him. By wasting time pulling on Pete’s arm, I’d given the guy too much time to get away. I was beginning to feel like I was chasing a shadow.
“It was the guy who’s been following me.” Frustration was oozing out of my pores.
I hurried over to the bartender. “Excuse me, but do you know that guy?”
“He comes in every once in a while. Why?”
“Do you know who he is?” I asked.
“Don’t know his name.” The bartender looked at me suspiciously. “Why do you want to know?”
“No particular reason. He looked familiar. That’s all. Why did he leave so suddenly?”
“Funny you should ask. He was sittin’ here, gettin’ ready
to throw one back, and he looks back at you guys and says, ‘Oh shit.’ Then he hightailed it outta here like you was shootin’ at him, without paying for his drink, I might add. Now why would a nice little lady like you scare off a big bad man like that?” Laughing, he turned away from me and starting drying glasses.
I returned to the table, shaking my head. “This guy is an enigma. We keep running into him, but we can’t seem to make contact with him. Got any ideas?”
“Buy ’im another round,” Stanley suggested.
“Good grief. Let’s get Stanley, I mean Stan, out of here and take him home.” I’d had about enough for the time being. He’d pulled his beer mug back across the table.
“Yeah, we’d better get going.” Pete stood up and held his hand out to Stanley. “Let’s get you home, pal.”
“Okey dokey,” Stanley said. “Le’s get me home before I do any damage.” His feet seemed to get tangled as he stood up and he lurched forward. Pete grabbed him and kept him from falling, but the beer mug hit the floor, making a big mess even messier.
“Whoops.” Stanley stopped and stared at the mug for a brief moment, losing interest quickly.
“Mother?” I walked over to the pool table. I noticed the biker was pulling money out of his pocket. “We’ve got to get going. Are you ready?”
“Yes, dear. Thank you for the game, Mr. Walker.”
“My pleasure, ma’am. Sorry, I mean Livvie. Come back sometime and we’ll do this again. Gimme a chance to make back my twenty.”
My eyebrows rose in surprise. He was handing her a twenty-dollar bill. Apparently, she’d won.
My head was starting to pound. I opened my backpack and fumbled for a bottle of aspirin I carried with me. I swallowed one without water and it stuck halfway down. I was choking when someone handed me a beer mug. I got the aspirin down, but my throat felt raw. My head pounded harder.
“Where did I go wrong?” I asked of no one in particular.
It was time to stop all the nonsense and get back to business. We had to make sure Amanda was safe and get rid of her stalker. And we, I, had to get back to my research and try to solve a hundred-year-old murder. On top of that, we had some insurance cases that needed looking into, and I had a company who had hired us to start doing background checks for them. It was all getting away from me. At least for the moment, I felt underpaid and overwhelmed.