They shimmied up to the window, but a dark shade prevented them from seeing in. Daisy said, “I hope the window isn’t locked.”
“What do we do if it is?”
“Go home. Mother, I’m not about to break in. I do have my own moral code. I figure if an entrance is unlocked, it’s fair game. But I won’t actually break a window.”
“I will.”
“No, you won’t. Anyway, we won’t need to.” She slid the window open quietly. They pushed past the shade and slipped in. Daisy turned on her flashlight giving just enough illumination to guide Angela to the light switch. Suddenly the attic was filled with hundreds of little twinkling lights running back and forth across the ceiling.
They looked around the room and Angela gasped. Daisy said, “Wow!”
Angela replied, “Exactly.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Angela said, “Oh my goodness,” as she walked from poster to poster. They were standing in a room completely devoted to B movies, especially spaghetti westerns. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly autographed by Lee Van Cleef. The rest of the Dollar Trilogy posters signed by Clint Eastwood and the director, Sergio Leone. One wall held movie memorabilia from the Zapata Westerns, including an original script from Damiano Damiani’s A Bullet for the General.
And the crowning glory of the room was a seventy-two inch HD TV mounted on the third wall. A leather recliner was placed directly in front of it on the other side of the room. And a bookcase lined the rear wall holding hundreds of DVDs of lousy B movies, including Rocky.
Beside the chair was a small refrigerator. Daisy opened the refrigerator to find bottles of Yoo-Hoo and Gatorade. She started giggling.
Angela hooted when she opened a cupboard full of every Tastycake snack cake known to man. Not to mention Twinkies, Sno-balls, Little Debbie’s, marshmallow peeps, and those horrible orange candy peanuts. There was also a decent selection of Twizzlers, Sno-Caps, root beer barrels, sour balls, and various other movie theatre treats.
Angela said, “No popcorn machine. I’m disappointed.” Daisy gasped, “He’s a secret junk-food, junk-movie junkie!!! I love it.” They were practically rolling on the floor laughing when Daisy said, “Why here? He has a perfectly good house of his own. Why hide this stuff here?”
“Yes, why here? That’s exactly what inquiring minds want to know.”
“You know what would really put the icing on the Tastycake? If he lives with someone who won’t let him indulge his passion at home.”
Angela stiffened. “You think he’s married and dating Rose at the same time. I’ll sick Percy on him!”
Daisy smiled sweetly and said, “No, I don’t think he has a wife. I’m thinking he has a mother!”
Angela and Daisy did wait up for Rose. They cuddled up on the couch with a nice little Pinot Gris and watched Field of Dreams. They were well into The Natural when they heard a car pull up outside. A minute later Rose came up the stairs alone.
“No Peter?” asked Angela.
“He went home. It’s late. Why are you still up?”
“We wanted to see how the night went,” asked Daisy. “Did you have a good time?”
Rose sat down, slipped off her sandals, and put her feet up on the table. “I did - for the most part. I met Colin Powell and his wife! And the president of the university and a couple of senators. Peter does move in a sort of rarefied atmosphere. And the music was wonderful and Peter is a great dancer. So that was good. And we had dessert at the Old Ebbitt Grill which was nice-ish. And then we stopped by his house on the way back here.”
Daisy said, “Woo-woo!”
“Not so much. We stopped by so we could take his mother home.”
Daisy looked surprised and said, “Really? His mother was at the party?” She gave Angela a nudge. “And she lives with him?”
“Just until her new home is finished. Apparently, she sold her house in Georgetown and is having one built on the Bay somewhere. She’s been at Peter’s for six months already. And it looks like she’ll be there at least another six.”
Angela asked, “What’s she like? You don’t sound too enthusiastic.”
“Well, she is really beautiful, if you like tall, slim and steely. She sort of dominates the room, if you know what I mean - but not in a good way. What is this?” Rose picked up the pitcher of Midnight Marauders and poured herself a glass.
Daisy said, “It’s a little concoction I mixed up for this evening.”
Rose took a sip and said, “It’s good.” Rose leaned back and twirled the orange liquid in her glass meditatively. “I can’t see this woman whooping it up with her girlfriends. Or even quietly enjoying whatever this is.” She took another sip. “She seemed to find most things distasteful. She sent her Peach Crumble back at the restaurant which truly annoyed the waiter. I can see now where Peter gets some of his ideas.”
Daisy said, “Me, too. Did he order dessert?” Angela started tittering and Daisy giggled, “Stop that, Mother.”
Rose looked puzzled and said, “No. It was late and he really doesn’t eat a lot of sweets.” Daisy and her mother burst out laughing.
Rose demanded, “Okay, what the hell is going on?”
“I guess it’s time to fess up.” Angela pulled out her cell phone, brought up the photo album and said, “Just look at this!” Rose scrolled through shots of Peter’s attic -TV, candy cupboard, refrigerator contents, and movie shelf.
“Where did you get these pictures?”
“In the attic of Peter’s bookshop,” said Daisy. “We had a little adventure ourselves this evening. I know. I know. I know. It was totally wrong. But I really thought Peter might be up to something rotten. And Mother and I decided we had better find out just what he gets up to in the shop.” She got very serious and pronounced, “And, I’m sorry to say this, it’s not good.”
Rose stood up, hands on her hips, and stared at them. “I cannot believe you would do this!”
She paced around the room a moment, then said, “What am I saying? Of course I can believe you would do this. You really had no business spying on him. You do know that, don’t you?”
Her mother shook her head and said, “Rose, calm down. We were only thinking of your safety. He could have been some sort of drug fiend or bomb maker. Daisy even thought he could be entertaining prostitutes. But, we’re all relived to know, it’s nothing of the sort.”
Daisy hooted, “No, he’s just a pompous hypocrite who loves bad movies and junk food! He probably didn’t order dessert because they don’t serve Moon Pies at Old Ebbitt’s!”
Rose started to get all huffy, but then started laughing. “That little rat! He’s been trying to make me eat raw fish and snails.”
“That’s not all,” said Angela. “He has all six of the Rocky films! I lined them up and took a picture for you.”
Rose looked at the picture Angela was showing her. “Boy, this really roasts my potatoes. He had me thinking that all he watches are foreign language art films. Just wait until I see him.”
Daisy squealed, “You can’t say anything to him. Technically, we weren’t supposed to be in his attic.”
“Technically?! How about not in any way, shape or form were you supposed to be in his attic.” Rose paced some more and huffed, “Well, now I don’t know what to do. I really would love to give him a piece of my mind, but I can’t think how I’d explain why my mother and sister happened to be sneaking around his shop.”
Angela said, “Perhaps you could tell him we saw an intruder and went to investigate.”
Rose plopped into a chair. “Right. Instead of calling the police, or even just calling Peter, you and Daisy slipped in through the attic window. Somehow, I don’t think he’d believe it.
“Anyway,” she sighed. “I don’t know. Just a couple of hours with that woman and I’m ready to climb the walls. The thought of living with her might make anyone turn to junk food and bad movies. I guess it’s better than becoming an alcoholic.” She took a large sip of her drink. “It’s jus
t so sad that he can’t admit it.”
Angela said, “Yes, it is sad. Aren’t you girls pleased that you can tell me anything at all? I pass no judgment. It’s a gift of mine. Why, you could drink this whole pitcher of Marauders and I wouldn’t utter a word.”
Daisy picked up the empty pitcher and said, “That’s true, you wouldn’t.” She smiled at her mother, “Not unless we didn’t leave any for you. Okay, ladies, time for bed. It’s really late.”
Rose yawned and said, “Thank God we don’t have to get up in the morning.” As they were trailing up the steps she asked Daisy, “Did he have any really good candy? Anything I’d like?”
“Ab-zo-lutely, as Rocky would say. Twizzlers and Good’n’Plenty.”
“Okay, then. It’s really all good, isn’t it?”
The shop was closed on Sundays and Mondays, Daisy and Rose adamantly refusing to give in to the 24/7 school of doing business. So Sunday mornings were slow and easy.
They had just had their first cup of tea and Angela was fixing omelets when Bill Greene dropped by about noon to pick up the police file Elyse Dove had given them.
Daisy answered the door and said, “This is Sunday. I thought you were off duty.”
“Technically, I am, but I need to get a handle on all this. So far, we’ve got a lot of nothing.”
As they got to the kitchen Rose said, “Coffee? Tea?”
“I could use a cup of coffee. I’ve been up most of the night.”
Rose put the coffee on and they sat at the table. Daisy asked, “Anything new on the investigation? Have you figured out what was used to kill Brad?”
“We know it was the same thing that killed Peggy Merritt, but we’re not sure what it is. Something round and flat, about three inches in diameter.”
“Like a hammer?”
“We’re not sure. The depression’s kind of big for a hammer.”
Rose suggested, “Maybe it’s some specialty mallet.”
“Could be. The techs are hammering away with everything from a metal crab mallet to a small sledgehammer trying to find something that leaves the same mark.”
Angela asked, “Any forensics? DNA, hair follicles, clothing fibers? Was there petechial hemorrhaging? I always like the sound of that. Was there skin under his nails? Any defensive wounds?”
Bill shook his head and said, “You watch too much TV, Angela. No. We haven’t found much at all actually. We do know that Brad wasn’t killed where you found him. It looks like the murderer just dumped the body back there.”
Rose asked, “Why? That’s a lot of trouble to go to. I mean they really had to work to shove him behind the garage like that.”
Daisy said, “And there was a huge chance they’d be seen. That’s crazy.”
Bill said, “Could be a number of reasons. Most obvious would be that wherever Douglas was murdered would clearly incriminate the murderer. Maybe he wanted to lay the blame on you two or just scare you silly. Or maybe he just wanted to hide the body hoping to obscure the time of death. Who knows?”
He finished his coffee and said, “Thanks. Have you got that file for me on the girl from Virginia?”
Daisy picked it up and handed it to him. “I hope it helps. I just know that baseball card is at the bottom of this mess. And I would love to find it and give it back to Elyse.”
Bill took the file and said, “I’ll let you know what I find out.”
Daisy walked out with him to get the morning paper. She looked up at the clear, blue sky and sighed, “Oh wow, what a beautiful day. Mid-eighties and sunny. What a relief. I hope the whole week will be like this.”
“Daisy, what planet do you live on? We have a hurricane headed this way. They think it’s going to hit us late in the week.”
“A hurricane! How did I miss that? I’ll go check it out right now.”
Angela was putting the omelets on the table when Daisy hurried back up the stairs. “Come on, honey, eat it while it’s hot.”
Daisy said, “Just a minute.” She quickly scanned the newspaper and, sure enough, there was a picture of Hurricane Bathsheba heading toward the east coast - estimated landfall Thursday evening.
“How could I have missed this? Did either of you know about it?” she asked as she handed the paper to Rose.
Angela read over her daughter’s shoulder and said, “I did hear something at the salon, but those ladies totally exaggerate everything, so I didn’t pay attention.”
They finished brunch and cleaned up. Then Rose got out a paper and pencil.
Daisy asked, “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to make a list of what we need to do before this thing hits. Thank God we’re not in a flood zone, but we could lose electricity or have wind damage. We’d better be prepared.”
Angela jumped up and cried “Hurricane party!”
Daisy said, “Not here, Mother. You’re going home where it’s safer.” Angela lived in an upscale senior citizens community near Annapolis just half an hour’s drive from Old Towne.
“Must I?”
“Yes, you must. They have backup generators and a whole staff working to make sure you’re safe and you have what you need. Invite some friends over and have a hurricane party there.”
Angela brightened. “You’re right. I’ll call the girls and we can all wear our pajamas. We’ll have fun.”
Rose had been jotting down her own list and said, “Sounds good to me. I wish we could come. Our list isn’t nearly as much fun.”
“I hope you put the wine and vodka on it, at least,” said Daisy.
“Of course, I did. But we have a lot to do. The patio furniture has to be brought in, and I think we should tape the sunroom windows.”
“Isn’t that a tad excessive?”
“The paper says we could get a direct hit. Trees might come down and if something hit those windows that glass could be really dangerous.”
Daisy asked, “How bad do you think it’s going to be? Do you think we need to put away the crystal and glass in the shop?”
“Not really. I’m just worried about all that wall of glass.”
“Well, now I am, too. Thanks a lot.”
Around two Wednesday afternoon Rose was in the office when Tonya stuck her head in and said, “I’m running down the street to see if Mom and Dad need any help, if that’s all right.”
“Sure. Take your time. Daisy and I are fine here. In fact, I think we’ll close up soon anyway. Take the rest of the day off.”
“Thanks.” She turned to go, but stopped, turned back to Rose and said, “What am I doing? I was going to walk out with this.” She handed her a large brown envelope. “I found it on the floor under the counter. I don’t know who left it or when.”
“Rose took the envelope and said, “Thanks. Go help your parents. And don’t come in tomorrow. I don’t want you fighting your way home if this thing comes in earlier than expected.”
Tonya left and Rose looked at the envelope. A cold feeling came over her. “Daisy, come here and look at this.”
Daisy looked at the envelope and said, “What? It doesn’t say anything.”
“Exactly. Who leaves an envelope with no name on it?”
“Well, open it! It might not even be for us.”
Rose carefully opened the envelope and pulled out a sheet of paper, looked at it and dropped it on the counter. The message was a cut and paste job. Rose said, “Short and to the point.”
the card or your dead
“Rose! This is creepy,” said Daisy.
“You got that right. I’m calling Bill now.” As she dialed she said, “Who could have left this?”
Daisy said, “Anyone. This place has been Grand Central Station all week.”
Rose said, “Bill’s not answering. I’ll have to leave a message.” She listened for the beep, then said, “Bill, it’s Rose. Call me as soon as you get this. We just got a letter from Brad’s killer.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Rose put the phone down and said, “What do we d
o now?”
Daisy practically shouted, “How should I know? We don’t even have the card. That bastard has it! He practically killed you getting it!”
“Daisy, calm down. We have to think this through. I just hope Bill calls back soon.” She took a deep breath. “Okay. Apparently, the killer does not have the card. So where is it?”
“Could it possibly still be here?”
“How? Where? I checked. You checked. The envelope was gone right after the bastard attacked me. This makes no sense at all.”
“Maybe it was Brad who attacked you and stole the card back.”
“Well then, why didn’t the killer find it? Why would he think we still had it?”
“I have no idea why anyone thinks anything anymore. I do know that I am not happy with this situation. The idiot didn’t even tell how we are supposed to get the damned thing to him.”
Rose sighed. “I know. If we could figure out when this note came, maybe we could narrow down who wrote it.”
Daisy said, “It wasn’t there on Monday. I swept the floor and dusted the entire counter. I would have seen it. But it’s been so crazy anyone could have dropped it, pretty much any time after that.
“Rose, it’s probably someone we know. It could be a friend. They’ve all been around this week; Peter, Marc, Mary, the neighbors, everybody. The only person I didn’t see around this week was Jeff Moody.”
“Jeff Moody? Somehow, I’d forgotten all about him. I guess I kind of ruled him out when we found out that he’s the bobber. But really, Daisy, you could be right. He could easily be the blackmailer.
“And just because we didn’t see him, doesn’t mean he didn’t drop off the envelope. He could have come by while we were out.”
“What are we going to do?”
“First things first. We’re not going to panic. We’re going to get this place hurricane ready while we wait for Bill to call back.”
Daisy looked at her sister for a long moment. “You’re a very practical person. Did you know that?”
Roses are Dead My Love Page 16