My Bad Grandad

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My Bad Grandad Page 11

by A W Hartoin


  I sat down and was served the first course of the biggest breakfast of my life and that’s saying something since Aaron was my partner.

  Virginia sat next to her sister, who didn’t look related to her at all. Kathleen was a pale red-head and like Grandad, she was practically emaciated. Maybe it was a red-head thing.

  “Please sit down, Aaron,” said Virginia.

  Instead of sitting, Aaron bounced up and down on the balls of his feet and didn’t answer.

  “He can’t,” I said. “Not until we love it.”

  “We will,” said Kathleen. “Virginia and Aaron spent five hours developing this soufflé—green chili, pear, and blue cheese.”

  It sounded disgusting but smelled great. Aaron’s food was like that a lot. It was always fantastic, unless it was crab. There was no hope for crab.

  Everyone broke through the crusts of their individual soufflés and went silent, except for the groans of pleasure. Grandad broke through his top, too. I watched as he took two bites, declared it great, and pushed it away.

  “You have to eat the whole thing,” I said, between bites.

  “But there are more soufflés.”

  “You can eat them, too. Six hundred calories.”

  “How many are in this?” he asked Aaron.

  Aaron shrugged. Calories weren’t any concern of his.

  Janet pulled out her phone. “I’ll put the recipe in my tracker.” She worked on that and another soufflé came out, white cheddar and bacon. I think the smell had a hundred calories alone. Janet came up with 300 calories per soufflé because they were so small. I persuaded Grandad to eat all three because he didn’t want to hurt Aaron’s feelings. All in all, he ate 1000 calories and I gave myself a hearty pat on the back. Mom might even be happy with me for once. Then I realized I’d been happy and content all breakfast.

  “Is Raptor still in town?” I asked.

  “As far as I know,” said Robert before inhaling a grapefruit mimosa. “She’s a good girl. I’m glad you two are friends. Maybe you can liven her up some.”

  Friends? Do grandparents pay attention at all?

  “She seems pretty lively to me.” And bitter. And vicious.

  “She’s doing her best to cover.”

  I frowned and before I could ask, Grandad was up, stacking dishes for washing. Virginia and Kathleen protested, but he insisted and got Robert to help. I think he was just afraid there was more food coming.

  We all helped clear the dishes and I was about to go elbow deep in soap suds when Barney leaned over to me. “Wallace needs a walk.”

  Wallace didn’t need a walk. She needed an antacid. Aaron made her breakfast, consisting of three kinds of sausage and two kinds of cheese. I didn’t know a pug could eat so much. She lay on her back with four paws straight up in the air and was making little whimpering sounds.

  “I think Aaron killed her with kindness,” I said. “She can’t roll over, much less walk.”

  Barney looked into my eyes. “She really needs a walk.”

  “Er…okay.

  “Janet, I’m going for a walk with Mercy. Got to work off those soufflés.”

  She nodded from where she was sitting with Aaron. I thought I heard the word “nattō.” Shudder. Best not to think about what Aaron might do with slimy, fermented beans. It couldn’t be good for me no matter what.

  I went to Wallace and attempted to roll the porker over. She rolled right back, legs in the air, kind of like a Weeble.

  If this dog dies, I’ll be the world’s worst ex-girlfriend.

  “Virginia, do you have a good vet?”

  She chuckled. “That dog just needs some fresh air. I’d say use a leash, but I don’t think you’ll need it.”

  “If she sees a squirrel, you never know,” said Kathleen. “Here, take one of ours, just in case.”

  I picked up Wallace and held her like an overinflated football. Barney opened the door for me and we walked out into the brilliant sunshine, blinking and shielding our eyes.

  “Let’s go this way,” said Barney and I noticed he was taking the path that went directly away from the B&B, instead of the one that meandered through the outbuildings, spa, and pool.

  When we got well beyond eavesdropping range, I asked, “What’s up?”

  “You haven’t been out to see Blankenship lately,” he said.

  I shrugged. “Yeah, I can’t see the point. He’s toying with me.”

  “You don’t think he knows anything?”

  “Blankenship knows plenty, but he’s not interested in giving it up. He’s got all the time in the world to mess around.”

  “He gave you that safety deposit box.”

  “A lot of good it did.”

  “The detectives will figure it out eventually.”

  I nodded, but I seriously doubted it. Everyone seemed to think Kent Blankenship was some kind of special idiot. Being a mass murderer didn’t make you an idiot and he certainly wasn’t one. He gave me a box at The Missouri Bank. It contained a man’s blood-stained clothing, complete with shoes and socks. Forensics found five different DNA samples on the clothing. There were also hairs, fibers, and insect cocoons. All for nothing. None of the DNA popped up in any database. Blankenship’s DNA wasn’t one of the five, which floored the detectives. There was nothing to link Blankenship to the box, except that he told me about it. We couldn’t even prove that he rented it and the clothes were run of the mill business attire that you could buy at any Men’s Wearhouse. So there was a body, but we didn’t know who it was or where it was. Nobody could’ve survived that many stab wounds and that’s where our knowledge ended. Blankenship had nothing to say about it, except to hint at more boxes. I had a terrible feeling that they’d have worse things in them than just clothing, ears or a tongue. I’d rather not know to be honest.

  “Are you coming back?” asked Barney.

  Wallace spasmed in my arms and I placed her on some grass under a large elm tree. She rolled on her back and groaned.

  I poked her. “Don’t die.”

  Tiny bark.

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “Mercy?” asked Barney.

  “You want me to continue to be that sick bastard’s plaything. Is that it?”

  He sat down next to Wallace and rubbed her bloated belly. “I think you should come back.”

  When he said that, I knew I didn’t want to. No. Not just didn’t want to. I’d rather have gotten an endometrial biopsy and those are excruciating.

  “I’m not doing it. I know everyone wants me to, but it’s costing me and pleasuring Blankenship. Screw him.”

  “I really think you should come back,” said Barney.

  “How about being a little more specific? Did Blankenship say something to you? I thought you didn’t handle him much,” I said.

  “I don’t. You should come back.”

  I sat down on the other side of Wallace and tickled her ears. “Nope. Not gonna do it, unless you give me a damn good reason.”

  “There are more victims out there,” he said rather weakly.

  “And there are other boxes with horrifying yet useless evidence. Blankenship’s business is murder and he’s good at it. He won’t serve up anything that we can trace.”

  “He’ll make a mistake. He got himself locked up in Hunt,” said Barney.

  “Pure luck. Monique Robertson was an outlier. How many waitresses would attack an active shooter? How many people in general?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Blankenship made a mistake and now we’ve got him for life.” Barney reached over and took my hand. “You need to come back.”

  “I need to come back? Me?”

  “I’m not supposed to talk about patients.”

  I laughed and lay down in the sweet-smelling grass. It made me think about Blankenship never smelling such a nice thing ever again. That was a happy thought. “I know. We can’t violate the rights of crazed murderers. Heaven forbid.”

  “If I tell you things, you’ve got to tell people things.
That’s how it goes,” said Barney.

  I rolled over and propped my head up. “I’m not a cop or a lawyer. I never swore an oath.”

  Barney looked away from me. “He’s had a visitor.”

  “Blankenship? So what? His parents are dying to get in to see their rotten apple.”

  “It wasn’t them. He still won’t see those poor people.”

  Now he had my interest. “Who then?”

  “Matthew Woods.”

  “New lawyer?”

  “Nope. His court-appointed hasn’t been out in a couple months, not since he tried to vomit on her.”

  “What the what?” I asked. “Weren’t they in the fishbowl?”

  They were in the fishbowl, basically a super-secure rubber room. I’d sat at the bolted-down table in there, separated from Blankenship by several feet. He was chained to his chair, but it was fairly close. Projectile vomiting. It could make it.

  “Gross. Who vomits on their own lawyer?” I asked.

  “Well, he couldn’t bite her. That was as close as he could get. She was hysterical. Young girl, not like you,” said Barney.

  “What do you mean by that? How old do you think I am?”

  “There’s young and then there’s young. She’s young, a couple years out of school. She caught Blankenship because he’s not going anywhere.”

  “No kidding. So who’s this Matthew Woods?”

  Barney had a feeling about this Woods, like he and Blankenship knew each other, but they weren’t friends. Woods was a middle-aged hispanic guy with bad acne scars and a midwestern accent. He wore Cardinal gear, but it was brand new. Barney had the sense that it was purchased for the occasion.

  “Like a disguise?” I asked.

  “I think so, but jeans would’ve made me less suspicious.”

  “Maybe that was the point. He wanted to be noticed.”

  That idea bothered Barney and I could see why. Some criminals like to mess with the cops, sending letters, taunting them, stuff like that. It wasn’t a sign of a good mind.

  “I was on the fishbowl that day. Bostitch had the flu. It’s usually his gig.”

  What happened in the fishbowl that day wasn’t particularly worrying. What was worrying was Barney’s reaction to it. I’d lived with Tommy Watts too long to discount intuition. My dad based his career on his own and listening to others.

  Woods asked about me. He wanted to know how Blankenship felt about me and when I’d be there next, how long I’d stay. He wanted to know my schedule. Woods asked about my attitude and what got to me. What was my demeanor? Blankenship wouldn’t answer a single question and only stared at Woods. Barney thought he would give the guy something, but he didn’t. Nobody else was concerned. They thought Woods must be a writer, trying to get info for a book about me. Journalists showed up from time to time.

  “Why are you telling me this, if nobody cared?”

  “I cared.”

  “Okay. Why?”

  “Blankenship let Woods in. He won’t see his parents or journalists or the sickos that think they’re in love with him. He’ll see you, that poor lawyer, and then this guy. Why?”

  “Do you have a feeling?”

  “Like your dad? No, not exactly. He made me nervous and I don’t get nervous.”

  “Good enough,” I said. “I’ve got a friend. I’ll have him look into this guy.”

  “You can’t. Everyone will know it came from me. You have to come back and get it out of Blankenship yourself.”

  “I can try, but in the meantime, my friend isn’t going to ask where the info came from. He didn’t take any oaths either.”

  “Morty will tell your father and he’ll go batshit crazy.”

  I hesitated. “It’s not Morty.”

  “You have someone else? Does your father know?” asked Barney.

  “No, and you’re not going to tell him, just like I’m not going to say who gave me Woods.”

  Barney nodded. “As long as you check this guy out. I looked on the internet and got nothing. I think it was an alias.”

  “I’m sure it was.”

  We sat in silence watching Wallace groan, the greedy buzzard, until Janet came out looking for us. “That’s some walk. What was that? Fifty yards?”

  Barney grinned at his wife. “Wallace was tired.”

  “I’m sure she was,” said Janet. “Mercy, Raquel wants you to call her. You haven’t been answering your phone.”

  Groan.

  “I turned it off. I’m on vacation,” I said.

  “There’s no vacationing from friendship.”

  I bit back a retort on that one. Why did they think we were friends? That was just nutty. I pulled out my phone and turned it on. There were three calls and two messages from Raptor. She was probably missing tormenting me.

  No good can come of this.

  “Did you tell anyone?” Raptor asked.

  I took Wallace out of my truck and set her on the ground, where she immediately fell over. “No, there’s nothing to tell.”

  “What happened to the pug?”

  “Aaron fed her.”

  She slammed my door, catching me in the arm.

  “Hey! Watch it.”

  “We’re in a hurry. Do you have your lock picks?”

  “Yes, but if you’re so freaked, why didn’t you call the cops? They’ll get you in the door.”

  Raptor lowered her voice. “Because I have you and you have no scruples.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Like you don’t break into hotel rooms all the time.”

  “That’s overstating the facts.”

  She picked up Wallace, who belched and farted sausage stink. Raptor didn’t seem to notice the smell. “Can we just go? Hal’s room is Number Twenty-seven.”

  “Alright, alright, but if something is wrong, we will have to call an ambulance or the cops,” I said. “How’s Big Mike?”

  “Sleeping. Maybe a minor concussion. Nothing’s wrong with Hal either. I’m just being silly.” Raptor stomped down the row of bungalows at the Rally Inn. There were two rows of little cottages, a little worse for wear with peeling paint and lots of dead weeds, but cute in a playhouse sort of way.

  I ran to catch up. “If you’re just being silly, why am I here?”

  She stopped in front of twenty-seven. “Just open the door. He’s supposed to go on the Vet ride. I have to sober him up.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  “Come on.”

  “This has nothing to do with me.”

  “He won’t answer the door.”

  “He’s probably not there.”

  “I saw him go in.”

  “Still don’t see how—”

  She grabbed my arm. “You gotta get me in. He’s going to be late.”

  “Me? What about the staff?” I asked, trying to prevent her acid green fingernails from piercing my skin.

  “They lost the keys,” she said.

  My hands went to my hips. “Are you kidding?”

  “Okay. They were drunk.”

  “Was anybody not drunk last night?”

  “Yeah, you and me.” Her pointy nails jabbed me and I screeched.

  “Raptor!”

  “Don’t call me that. You are going to pick the lock.”

  “No, I’m not,” I said. “If he’s in there, let him sleep.”

  “It’s my job.”

  “Then do it and leave me out of it.”

  “Pick that lock!”

  “Call the cops, if you’re so worried,” I said.

  “I can’t.” She lowered her voice and glanced around like someone might be lurking in the shadows. The Rally Inn had no trees and no shadows. It was pretty desolate.

  “Why not?”

  “Because Hal has a warrant out for his arrest, okay?”

  “What’d he do?”

  “Credit card fraud.”

  “Holy crap. Does my grandad know?”

  “Of course he knows. They all know,” said Raptor.

  �
��Fine. Fine. Keep your panties on.” I dug my picks out of the bottom of my purse and there was a screeching down at the end of the bungalows. A woman, half-dressed and fully angered, stalked down the row toward us. A shirtless man wearing threadbare boxer shorts that left nothing to the imagination chased after the woman, yelling in Spanish. For a second, I thought she was going to punch Raptor. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen that expression directed at my nemesis. But she didn’t punch her. She did the next best thing. She hurled a heavy keyring at Raptor’s face, cracking her in the nose. The woman and her pursuer didn’t miss a step. They rushed by even as Raptor dropped Wallace and fell backward, hard on her rump.

  “My nose!” Blood seeped through her fingers and Wallace threw up at her feet.

  “This a terrible motel,” I said. “On the upside, I think she found the keys.”

  “Mercy! My nose.”

  I dug in my purse until I came up with the lone napkin I’d stuffed in there last night. I gave it to her, but it didn’t help much. It was a real spurter. I craned her head back and had her pinch her nose.

  “I’m going to kill that woman,” she gurgled.

  “From the sound of the screaming, you’ll have to wait in line.”

  Raptor started yelling about my lack of compassion, Sturgis, geezers who won’t get up, and a whole bunch more that was hard to understand through the gurgling.

  “Quiet down, Rap…Raquel. People are sleeping.”

  “My nose!”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know you’re in critical condition.” I picked up the keys and took a few minutes to find the right one. It’s always at the end of the keychain.

  “Hurry! I need a twowl.”

  “Hold on. I’ll get you your twowl.” I grinned and unlocked the door.

  Raquel bolted past me. “Hal?” She tripped and went sprawling.

  “Holy crap, Raptor. Get a grip.” I groped for the light switch. “Jeez, it’s freezing in here.”

  I flipped the light on and saw that Raptor wasn’t the only one in critical condition. There was a good reason Hal hadn’t gotten up for Raptor. He was never getting up again. He lay on the floor with a pool of vomit next to his head.

  Oh, God, how do I tell Grandad?

  Chapter Ten

  I WENT TO slam the door, but not fast enough. Wallace darted through, light on her feet after the big heave. She sniffed and then went nuts, charging at Hal’s body. I stepped on her leash and stopped her short with a strangled yelp.

 

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