The Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries 1-3

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The Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries 1-3 Page 43

by Alexie Aaron


  ~

  I called Bernice, and we chatted about this and that. It felt good not to be consumed by the murder investigation. I told her about Manfred and Tobias. She listened and decided to take my council to stay as far away from those two as she could. Art had called her and told her that the board was having an emergency meeting. The college had temporarily closed down the Avery, and the police had asked the band to not meet until they had the murders resolved. I told her that I hoped that they would listen to the police.

  “Where are they meeting?” I asked.

  “Perkins in Lake Worth. They won’t meet unless they can be fed.” Bernice sniffed. “They do a good egg white omelet though.”

  “And let’s not forget the pies,” I said salivating. “I am going to be out of touch for a while. You can reach me on the cell, but I won’t be at home.”

  “Going on a trip?” Bernice fished.

  “Just spending some quality time with Alex and Harry,” I said.

  “Well say hello to them and kick up your heels some,” Bernice advised.

  “I will take that as a prescription! Take care, Bernice. Bye”

  “Bye, Cin.”

  I heard the upstairs toilet flush and footfalls overhead. Someone was up. I walked into the kitchen and brewed coffee. I nosed around in the freezer and found some Sarah Lee coffee cakes. I took out the butter streusel, my favorite, and popped it in the oven.

  “Smells good!” Alex entered in his boxers. My son spends most of his day half naked. “Harry is out cold. More for me!” He did a little dance that only Alex could get away with, a two-minute performance that was a cross between a football touchdown celebration and the robot.

  “Sit. You will save some for Harry,” I ordered halfheartedly. Alex looks like he is listening, but does he hear? I remembered a teacher saying just the opposite. “Alex hears, but is he listening?” All I know is that he manages quite well on his own wavelength.

  “Food. I need food,” Harry’s voice echoed through the house. He was bedecked in Calvin Klein pajama bottoms, Cary Grant style. I looked at Mr. Wonderful, aka Alex, in cheap Kmart boxers to Harry and back again.

  “I am sensing someone was switched at birth.”

  Alex looked up and gave me his plastic smile - would have been better if he had swallowed his coffee cake first - and said, “Harry was hatched. I, on the other hand, was genetically engineered. Come on, look at this perfection.” He reached over and grabbed his hat from the counter. He put it on backwards after smoothing his mop of hair back. “You must be so proud.” There was that smile again. My green-eyed dishwater blonde son didn’t suffer in the ego department. I blamed myself, and the girls who were throwing themselves at him.

  I shook my head. “Ah, would you like some coffee, hatchling?”

  “Yes, but I don’t want to sit downwind from Alex. Phew!”

  Alex got up and put Harry’s head under his arm and held him there. I stood back and watched the fight. Wouldn’t have done any good to stop them, they were having too much fun. I popped my head into the icebox. Yes, there was ice. I was ready for a bloody nose, bruised shin or maybe stitches.

  “Take it outside,” I said as I opened the door and guided the boys to a less breakable venue. I poured myself a cup of coffee and walked outside just in time to see Harry fly around the corner heading for the beach with Alex’s hat in hand.

  “Harry, you give that back!”

  Alex almost caught him at the tree line. But Harry dove over the hammock and landed on his hands and feet. He soon was upright and running towards the ocean. I think he was very surprised when Alex continued the pursuit. Alex launched himself, flying into Harry, knocking both of them into the surf. I decided I had better get a body count. So I kicked off my bunny slippers and walked barefoot in my “Brat” nightgown to the water’s edge.

  First, all I saw was one wet hat and a striped leg of Harry’s pajamas. I picked them up, cringing at the cool temperature of the water. I looked north along the beach and saw that it was surprisingly empty. I turned around, and the south was clear for a half a mile or so. I scanned the water and two heads, one blonde and one blue-black, bobbed in the water. I shielded my eyes and could just make out their faces. They were laughing. I will never understand male bonding. All I know is someone either ends up bruised or semi-naked.

  “Mom!” Alex swam in closer. “Have you seen my hat?”

  I shook my head no.

  “Cin, Alex tore my pants off.”

  I lifted my shoulders to say, “So what do you want me to do about it?”

  “Mommy, can you please bring us something less revealing to wear?”

  I lifted my hand to my ear and shook my head.

  “You can too hear me!”

  I just stood there laughing at them for a moment. “Hang on I will be right back.”

  I walked into the house and up to my room. I gathered what I needed and made my way back to the beach. I tossed each of them something to wear.

  “No way!” Harry protested

  “You’re out of your feckin mind,” Alex complained.

  Each boy held up a pair of pink and black Scottie panties. Their expression of utter disgust was too good to be true. I did cave in and throw them each a pair of Harry’s shorts I had also taken. But I took my time.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Alex’s guitar chords drifted down from the second floor and over to the hammock where I was lying. After a hot shower and plenty of soap, I felt better. Earlier while the boys frolicked in the ocean, I took the opportunity to look in on my car. All seemed fine. I was surprised to see that Dudley had filled the tank. What a guy. I almost felt bad he was an idiot. Laughter bubbled up, and I knew I was going to be fine. After finding towels and piling them on the beach, I found myself lured to the hammock. It only took three tries to get on and stay on. I wondered what graceful people did with all the time they didn’t spend dusting sand off their behinds.

  Harry’s voice fell in with Alex’s as they worked on some harmonies for a song that Alex had written. Could life be any better? Well, minus the murders and poisoning attempts and police harassment, it wasn’t too bad.

  My cell phone’s ring sent me in pursuit of which pocket I had put it in. Finding it almost unseated me.

  “Hello?”

  “Cynthia, this is Manfred Tuttle.”

  My hand started shaking, and I had to grab it with the other one to keep from dropping the phone. “Yes, Manfred. This is a surprise.”

  “Tobias and I were talking last evening about your valiant rescue of us Tuesday. It occurred to me that Tobias and I have not adequately thanked you for the part you played.”

  “Really, Manfred, you don’t have to.”

  “Nonsense. How about joining old Tobias and me today for lunch?”

  Not in a hell’s breath. “Manfred, I’m really going to have to ask for a rain check. I’m entertaining a guest at the moment. Some other time.” I kept my voice as friendly as possible.

  “Quite understandable. I will ring you early next week. Ta Ta.” Manfred hung up.

  Alex was leaning over the balcony. “Who was it?”

  “Manfred.”

  “Manfred. Hey Harry, isn’t he one of the murder suspects?” Alex called into the house.

  Harry came out with his mouth full of toothpaste. “Manfred is one of the old farts. Why?” he asked.

  “Because he just called Mom on the phone.”

  Harry spit the toothpaste out, just missing me. He leaned over the rail. “You’re kidding?”

  “Nope.”

  “Shit. What did he want?”

  “Wanted me to go to lunch with Tobias and himself. Wanted to thank me for my involvement in their rescue.”

  “Nearly killing you wasn’t enough?”

  “We don’t know it was them...” I started to say.

  “It was them. I know it was them. What did you say?” Harry demanded.

  “I declined. Told them I was entertaining.”
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br />   “How’d they get your cell number?” Alex asked.

  “Probably had it on Manfred’s phone under missed numbers.” I shrugged my shoulders.

  “I’m going to finish getting dressed. I think we should move you. Just in case he has some idea of where you might be.”

  “Wait.” I stopped to gather my thoughts. “I think Manfred, if he is indeed our killer, is trying to flush us out. He doesn’t know where we are. You’re renting this house, correct, Harry?”

  “Yes, but...”

  “Is your name listed in the phone directory?”

  “No, but the school has this as my address.”

  “Mom, he has a point there. If the killer is clever enough to get away with killing Carl without a peep, then hacking into the school computers wouldn’t be too hard,” Alex added.

  “Maybe. I think before we go scurrying about, maybe we should let the police know about the phone call,” I suggested.

  “I’m on it,” Harry said, disappearing into the house.

  The phone rang again, and I was flabbergasted to see the caller ID. I took a deep breath and answered, “Luke?”

  “Hello, Cindy.”

  I winced at the Cindy. Even though we were no longer a couple, I thought he would at least remember that I didn’t like to be called Cindy. “What do you want?” I asked, trying to keep the chill out of my voice.

  “Can’t I call my ex-wife without wanting anything?”

  “Not in my experience.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that.” He paused, and I could almost hear the gears turning. “Anyway, I wanted to know if you’d rented out the mother in-law apartment yet?”

  “No. Why?” I was getting a bad feeling.

  “I’d like to use it for a while.”

  “You can’t.”

  “I believe since we still jointly own the house, I can.”

  “No, you can’t because it’s not safe.”

  “You better explain.”

  “Not before you tell me why you and missus moneybags need to live in my backyard!”

  “Just me.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Well, we’ve hit a bump in the road.”

  Oh, I knew what kind of bump, the kind that wiggles and giggles and pretended to be a flight attendant. Luke was irresistible to women, and they saw him as a possible road to retirement. I didn’t really expect his present situation to crash and burn so quickly, although inwardly I was feeling quite smug.

  “How soon do you need the apartment?”

  “Why?”

  “Well, it’s not safe presently.”

  “There’s that ‘not safe’ again. Please, explain.”

  I started to fill him in on what had happened. I could tell he was only half listening until the words multiple murders and police protection came up, then I had his attention. He asked questions and offered to come home and take Harry’s place as body guard. I declined.

  “The basic situation is that no one in our family is going to be safe until the killer is caught. I suggest you find a nice hotel where you can cool your heels until I call you. Don’t you have a job to go to?”

  “Well, that bump in the road includes the loss of my job.”

  I steeled myself before my nurturing went into high gear. “Are you looking for another job?”

  “There are a few I heard of in south Florida.”

  “Why here?”

  “Why not there?” I could now hear the insensitive tone I was used to in his final days at home before he admitted to having an affair with the pickle heiress. “You don’t have dibs on the state! I own half that house and still pay for the kids’ colleges. Right now, the jobs are there. If you want to get off your soft ass and go to work then...”

  “Shut up,” I couldn’t believe I said that. “I have a very nice settlement that you will have to abide by.” I stopped. “Listen, I will call you, or Alex will, when the police say we can inhabit the house. Right now, you will be making a killer very happy by presenting yourself all tied up neatly in a bow.”

  “You are such a problem. Always getting into scrapes.”

  “Listen to me. All the people died quite painfully, and if you want to join them, so be it.”

  “I’ll be out of the country for a week or so. I’ll just stay with you and Alex, where are you staying?”

  “None of your business.” I was determined to keep Luke out of trouble and out of my life at the same time.

  “That’s childish.”

  “We’re staying with a friend, and the police would like us not to tell anyone - and that includes you - where we are presently.”

  “Oh, well, that’s different. I’ll call you when I get into Florida. Have the place cleaned.”

  “You clean it,” I snapped and hung up.

  “Who was that?” Alex asked, leaning over the deck looking down at me. “You look like you could kill someone.”

  “Oh, I could.”

  “Was that the killer?”

  “No, it was your father.”

  Alex rolled his eyes. “What did Daddy Dearest want?”

  I told him about the “bump in the road,” and he just shook his head.

  “I guess we’re going to have a full house soon.”

  “He doesn’t have to live with us.”

  “No job, and I doubt he’s saved much.”

  “I suppose Noelle and I better start looking into student loans.”

  “Might not be a bad idea,” I pondered out loud. “Let’s just take this one day at a time. First let’s catch a murderer, and then we will deal with your father.”

  “I wonder which one will be hardest?”

  I looked at my son and him at me. We didn’t need to vocalize the answer. Luke coming home was going to be a nightmare.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  I’ve never been one for patience. Sitting still while others were in danger wasn’t a forte of mine. Noelle and Luke’s comments hit home. I had found myself in a few jams over the years. The trip to Cornwall was the first encounter in my banner year of involvement with psychos. All I wanted was a trip to the UK to see my daughter. I didn’t mind the work of cataloging music and instruments. In reality, the trip, involved the police, knives and three people’s death, two of which I was in part responsible for.

  I eased myself out of the hammock, kicked off my slippers and walked to the water’s edge. The Atlantic was peaceful, waves caressing the shore with plenty of time for the sandpipers to run and feed in between. The warm September wind blew my hair away from my face and dried the tears as they fell. I mourned the end of my marriage, Maurice Sherborn, Carl, Cheryl, Miles and the young policeman, whom I had only for the briefest of time met. All this death, attached somehow to me.

  True Maurice was not on my plate but the others were. What was I missing? If Harry was right, why would Manfred and Tobias kill these people? Was I the reason or just the next victim? I had no training in investigation so Tony had every right to resent my and Harry’s involvement. But how can I not be on the offensive. I, quite reasonably, had a reason to be afraid. I had to be careful here. It wasn’t just me involved but my whole family and, yes, my family of musicians too. People whose only crime was that they liked to make music, sometimes noise, but mostly music.

  Alex’s music drifted over, calming me. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. The sadness was replaced with a new determination. It was time for me to use my head. As my favorite little Belgian detective was oft to say, I needed to “use my little grey cells.”

  Walking back to the house, I admired the setting. It sure would be nice to be able to afford a house on the water, be so rich that you wouldn’t worry if a hurricane blew it all down. Just throw up your hands, open the check book and start again. But my present life barely gave me enough to put a roof over my head, and that I now had to share with my ex. There would be no watching the sunrise on the Atlantic from my patio. The best I could do was enjoy this as long as it lasted.
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  I wondered if it was this urge for the better life that pulled Luke away from me. “It couldn’t have been my fashion sense,” I thought as I looked at my ensemble. I was styling. I returned to the hammock, successfully situated after the third try. “Sure, classy and graceful,” I said as I closed my eyes.

  ~

  I heard the gravel crunch as a car pulled in behind Alex’s car. I eased out of the hammock and carefully crossed the yard and peered around a tree. Pete and Sergeant Dave were getting out of Dave’s 4 Runner. I followed behind them to the door.

  “What’s wrong?” I hissed.

  They turned around, and Pete had drawn his gun. Dave put his hand on his arm and guided it down.

  “She’s friendly. Bites but friendly.” Dave walked over and hugged me.

  “Something must be wrong. Tell me.” I looked over his shoulder at Pete.

  “Tony’s missing.”

  “Wha... Tony? What’s going on?”

  “Are the boys inside?”

  I nodded.

  “Let’s go in. I’d rather tell one story. Saves time.” Dave kept his arm around me as we walked into the house.

  “Come on.” I walked into the living room. “Alex! Harry! We have company.”

  By the sound of the pounding feet you would think I was living in a house with a Marine platoon instead of two boys. Harry came down the south stairs and Alex the north set.

  “Alex, this is Officer Pete Smith and Sergeant Dave Buslowski. Gentlemen, my other son, Alexander Lathen.”

  “Sirs.” Alex shook each of their hands.

  “What’s wrong?” Harry was on the same wavelength as I was.

  “Let’s sit down.”

  Each of the boys flanked me on the couch. Pete and Dave chose chairs across from us. I don’t think anyone was breathing deep enough. The stress level of the room was extremely high.

  “Tony... ” Dave started. “Tony has been missing for four hours now. He went to check out a lead and didn’t return. He hasn’t answered his phone.”

  “We know that he was heading over to speak to Doctor Sanders.” Pete bit his lip. “We do know where he was going, but we don’t know where he is now.”

 

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