by Dennis, Pat
It could be fun. I need fun. Maybe I’ll even win a little. Maybe I’ll win a lot. Besides, he wants to do it. It’s not like I asked him. And if I win, that could solve a lot of problems. It was his idea. It’s not like it’s my money, or Take A Chance Tour money …
The phone rang again and jarred her from her delusional skyrocket.
It’s probably Gillette calling back, she decided. She’d tell him no, tell him she’d changed her mind. She picked up the receiver.
“Listen Tony, I really don’t think I ...”
“Lori, is that you?” the voice asked, wavering.
“Gloria?” Lori said, surprised to hear her employee’s voice on the other end.
“Uh-huh,” Gloria answered in a small, trembling voice.
Lori’s throat went dry. “What is it?”
Gloria said, “I can’t get ahold of your aunt. She’s not answering her phone.”
The woman was speaking in a very slow and precise manner. That fact alone told Lori something was very wrong.
Lori asked, “What happened?”
“Someone’s broke into the office. We’ve been robbed.”
Chapter 17
Two glasses of champagne and one hour of mutual flirtation later, Betty hustled through the hotel lobby. She was still bewildered and bemused from her time spent with Boris. Her plan now was to grab a quick nap. Even a half hour would keep her going until bedtime. She only hoped that if she did sleep, she didn’t dream of The Baffler.
Betty wasn’t exactly sure why she found the flamboyant mentalist so damned charming, and, she had to admit it to herself, hot. She’d always laughed at her mom’s friends and their tales of being turned on by Liberace. Betty realized now that she should have been more understanding. The women were barely out of their teens in the1950s when the word gay only meant happy. And decades later she too was attracted to a man of questionable sexuality. Boris did act straight, but it was the word “act” that bothered her.
Maybe, her being celibate returned her to a 1950s naeveté again? Or maybe she’d become a refurbished virgin? After all, they refurbished computers, so why not …
A thought struck her. Did the Baffler use mind control on her? Could that be why she suddenly found herself desiring something other than an afternoon of crème-filled Ho Hos?
How could she be attracted to Boris to begin with? was at least twenty years younger than she. For another, he wore guyliner. Men in make-up did not usually tickle her sexual fancy. She grew up on South Side Chicago where a man was considered a sissy if he ate with a fork. If he needed to stir his cup of black—and only black coffee—he was expected do it with a tire iron. She was just about to press the elevator button when she heard Tillie’s voice.
“Hold the elevator!” Tillie stopped the door from closing with her outstretched hand and stepped inside. Through a wad of chewing gum, she asked, “Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Betty decided against mentioning she’d been drinking with Boris. Somehow, it didn’t seem right for her to take time off to indulge in bad behavior. “What’s up?” Betty asked, as the elevator rose. If Tillie wanted to chat, they could do it on the way to her room. After that, Tillie would have to leave. Only a shower and a quick nap were on her agenda.
Tillie waved three crisp hundred-dollar bills in the air before folding them into fourths. She pulled aside the neckline of her blouse and slipped the money deep inside her bra.
“I won three hundred bucks at bingo! I told you that Irish leprechauns kick Norwegian troll butts,” Tillie said proudly.
“Good for you!” Betty cheered. “By the way, has the sheriff called you with any new information?”
“Nope. And in case you’re wondering, I couldn’t find Lori either. The two of you disappeared off the face of the earth. I called both of your cells a dozen times.”
The elevator stopped and they stepped out into the corridor. Betty said, “I didn’t hear my phone ring once.”
She unzipped her bag and poked around the bottom. Then she reached into her pockets. Her phone was missing.
Tillie suggested, “Check your bra. That’s where I’ve lost mine, though once I forgot I had slipped it inside my underwear.”
Betty didn’t ask Tillie how she could forget that, or how she could sit down with a phone in her panties. Betty didn’t bother to check inside her brassiere. Unlike Tillie’s ample storage space, her bosom couldn’t hide a quarter, much less the small cans of hairspray she’d seen Tillie pull from her cleavage. To Betty, being a plus size woman with miniscule breasts was a lesson in spiritual enlightenment. It reminded her daily that life could be so unfair.
Betty said, “Damnit, losing that phone is a disaster.”
“Maybe it’s in your room?” Tillie said, gesturing down the hallway.
“Maybe,” Betty answered. It might be frozen inside the huge snow bank she’d fallen into earlier, thought Betty. Or perhaps she’d left it in Boris’ bus.
“You don’t have any idea where you left it?” Tillie asked.
“A few places,” she admitted. She knew she’d be too embarrassed to return to Boris’ place. She doubted he would think she was just looking for a phone to hold in her hands.
“Let’s look in your room, first. I’ll help you search,” Tillie offered.
As soon as they opened Betty’s door, she had an idea. “Call my cell.”
Tillie flipped opened her cell phone and hit speed dial. The phone started ringing on Tillie’s end, but neither heard a ring coming from anywhere in the hotel room.
“I’m not hearing ...” Tillie paused, and then sang the words, “First I was afraid, I was petrified ...” Betty’s ring tone was the Gloria Gaynor hit.
Betty said, “Start looking around. It could be here with the ringer turned off. I’ll check the bathroom. Would you mind looking under the bed?”
“No problem.” Tillie headed toward the bed. Betty took an immediate right into the bathroom. Just for the heck of it, she pulled back the shower curtain and checked out the tub. She looked under the counter as well. She looked inside of the waste paper basket and the pockets of her terry cloth robe that hung on the backside of the door.
“Nothing under the bed!” Tillie yelled from the other room. “Want me to check the dresser drawers?”
“Sure, I have nothing to hide,” Betty said stepping back into the bedroom. She watched as her friend began to rummage through the top drawer.
Tillie turned around and gave her a quizzical look. “Are you sure about that?” Tillie held up a pair of sheer black thongs, embroidered with tiny red hearts.
Betty’s cheeks flushed pink. “There was a sale at the big woman’s store.”
“Big sexy woman’s store you mean.” Tillie tossed the panty back into the dresser. “Like they say, it’s always the ones you least suspect.” She closed the drawer.
Betty searched the nightstand then pulled it away from the wall. Except for electrical cords plugged into sockets, there was nothing behind it.
“I knew it!” Tillie announced proudly, holding the door to the mini-bar door wide open.
“My cell phone is inside the fridge?” Betty asked, shocked. She’d discovered missing items in a lot of places, but that seemed odd even for her.
“No, there’s no phone but there’s no chocolate either. As soon as I saw the truffles in my room, I knew you’d break down and pay the big bucks for the ones in yours!”
“My addiction’s that obvious?” Betty asked.
“Are you kidding, me? You’d stuff your Thanksgiving turkey stuffed with chocolate if you could,” Tillie admonished.
“Actually, I have,” Betty admitted. “It was called Mole Poblano. I had it one Thanksgiving in a casino outside of Tucson. It’s this great Mexican turkey dish made with melted chocolate and hot chilies.”
“Really? Turkey and chocolate together? I’ve never heard of that. But then, the fanciest Mexican restaurant I go to is Taco Bell,” Tillie admitted.
The two continued to search. The bed was already made. Betty could tell that nothing was lying beneath the spread. She checked underneath the four king-sized pillows. Then she did a quick peak into the armoire and announced anxiously, “I guess it’s not here.”
“Maybe you should call the cell phone company and cancel your account?” Tillie suggested, sitting down on the bed.
“You’re right. Can you look up the number on the Internet while I shower?” Betty asked, heading toward the bathroom. Her time with Tillie had eaten up any chance for a nap, but at least she could be clean for her clients, if not fully awake.
“Look it up, how?” Tillie asked, looking around the room.
“Use my laptop to ...” Betty stopped in her tracks. She swirled around and saw that her slim black laptop was no longer sitting on the desk. Her heart sank. Her computer was missing as well.
If someone had access to her computer, they had access to all of her financial records, including the Take A Chance files she’d downloaded before the trip began. Her laptop was not password protected. She’d never gotten around to entering a password although it would have taken only a few seconds to do so. Now, it was too late.
Betty picked up the room phone to dial the front desk when she heard Lori’s frantic voice calling out her name. Betty dropped the receiver and rushed to open the door.
Lori barged in, talking full speed. “Aunt Betty, I have some very bad news.”
Tillie gasped, a look of fresh horror on her face. “Don’t tell me they’ve found another body?”
“No. There’s been a robbery,” Lori said, walking to the edge the edge of the bed, her arms folded across her stomach as if she were in pain. She sat down next to Tillie. She hadn’t taken time to put on make-up or even brush her hair. Betty had never seen Lori look as frazzled or act as flustered.
“Are you talking about my laptop being stolen?” Betty asked, confused that Lori knew about the theft before she did.
It took a moment for Lori to answer. “No, I’m talking about our office being robbed.”
Dazed by Lori’s announcement, Betty plopped down onto the edge of the bed. She grabbed her niece’s hand and said, “Tell me about it.”
Lori said, “Gloria called. Someone broke into the office this afternoon.”
Betty’s immediate concern was for her employee’s safety. “Was Gloria hurt?” she asked.
Lori shook her head. “She was downstairs at the coffee shop when it happened.”
“What was taken? The cashbox?” Betty asked, wondering briefly if Gloria remembered to lock the door to the office. She’d forgotten to do so in the past.
Lori answered, “That was untouched. Only two things were taken. One was our desktop computer.”
“And the other thing?” Betty asked.
Lori paused before admitting, “A trip file.”
“Which one?” Betty asked, even though she already knew what Lori’s answer would be.
“The one we’re on.”
Chapter 18
“Let me get this straight,” Severson leaned back in the conference room chair, his hands linked behind his head. “Your cell phone is missing. Your laptop was ripped off from your hotel room around the same time your Chicago office was broken into and your office computer taken which just happened to contain the file pertaining to the trip you’re on.” He paused. “Is that about right?”
Betty fidgeted as she sat across from the sheriff. She said, “I don’t know if it was exactly the same time, but darn close. Our assistant was out of the office on her coffee break when it happened.”
“Did she leave the office unlocked the same way Tillie left the bus unlocked?” Severson taunted.
Betty admitted, “I don’t know. Sometimes, Gloria forgets things. But, it’s never caused a problem until now.”
Severson shook his head in disgust. “Does anyone from Chicago ever bother to lock a door?”
Betty didn’t respond. The two were alone in the conference room the sheriff had deemed as his temporary on-site office. His men were upstairs in her hotel room, going over it inch-by-inch, looking for any shred of evidence.
She had dispatched Tillie and Lori to check up on any passengers they could find. Taking care of her clients was something Betty was used to doing by herself. The guilt of neglecting them on this trip was nagging at her. She didn’t have time to answer idiotic questions from a stupid man-child.
Severson jotted down a few notes and asked, “Did the stolen file contain information about the tour you’re currently on?”
Betty reached for the carafe of coffee sitting on the tabletop. She refilled her cup as well as well as the sheriff’s. If acting like a girly-girl secretary would help him to treat her with respect, she’d do it.
She answered, “Fortunately, the file’s information is on the USB drive I burned for you earlier. All we have to do is figure out why my office and hotel room were broken into at the same time. Obviously, whoever took my laptop from my room is connected to someone back in Chicago.”
Severson glared at her with a smug look on his face. “We?”
Betty knew she’d taken a leap of faith to include the term we in regards to the investigation. She said, “I know I can help you. We can go over the information together. If there’s anything that looks suspicious or out of place, I can ...”
“Solve the mystery? Like some sort of Angela Lansbury?” he interrupted right before half-a-grin emerged.
Betty couldn’t tell if he wasn’t being sarcastic. He appeared ready to accept her offer of help.
He removed his arms from behind his head and pointed his finger accusingly at her whenever he used the word you. “I know you like working a case and that you think of yourself as an amateur detective.”
“Why do you think that?”
Your son called me this morning.”
“Codey called you?”
“He told me you and your husband would …”
“Ex-husband,” she corrected.
Severson continued, “…work his unsolved cases together when you two were married. I guess even the Chicago Police department considers you something of a …” he paused.
She grimaced at what word could have been said about her constant involvement. “Buttinsky?” she asked.
“Expert at crime analysis,” Severson answered. For the first time, his remark sounded like a compliment rather than an accusation.
She relaxed and leaned back in the comfortable swivel chair. “My son would say that, but I’m not sure that my ex would completely agree. I couldn’t figure out he’d been sleeping around from day one of our marriage. I think that proves I’m not the great amateur detective I thought I was.”
Severson smiled gently. “Maybe you didn’t figure anything out because you didn’t think there was anything to figure out.”
“You’re right, I didn’t,” she said. One of Betty’s biggest flaws was in trusting the people she loved unconditionally.
“Well,” Severson said thoughtfully, “a spouse shouldn’t have to.”
Betty looked at the Sheriff who seemed to grow a little older before her eyes.
The sheriff turned his attention back to the case. “There must be a connection to Take a Chance.”
Betty realized that, without saying so, Severson had just accepted her offer of help. Or, at the very least, admitted she was no longer an adversary.
Severson reached into his attaché case and pulled out a stack of papers. They were the printed version of the documents Betty had given to him on the USB drive. He started shifting through the items. “There has to be some sort of incriminating evidence with this file, or it wouldn’t have been stolen.”
“Or there’s a third possibility,” Betty suggested, pausing to ensure he wanted her to continue.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“The murderer is trying to throw us off track. He, or she, knows we will spend a lot of time investigating the data in this file.”
&nb
sp; “Time that could be spent investigating other leads,” he said, finishing her thought. The sheriff nodded his head in understanding. “Could be. By the way, is anyone connected with Take A Chance involved in any sort of criminal activity or have a criminal background?”
Betty wondered if he were still testing her. “You mean a criminal background other than Tillie’s? I assume you already know everything about her felony conviction.”
“I mean anything of late. I’m looking for an activity that wouldn’t be on the books.”
Betty answered, “Not that I know of. To be honest, even though we’ve become friends, Tillie and I don’t socialize outside of work. But, I’m sure she’d never do anything that would land her back in prison.”
“How long has Tillie been an employee?”
“Technically, Tillie doesn’t work for us. She works for the bus company we contract with. If I ask her however, Tillie will do favors for me while on tour—like track down a passenger. I don’t pay her a salary but I tip her very well. The only employees at Take A Chance are Lori, Gloria and myself.”
“What about Lori? Any dark secrets lurking in her background?”
For a change, Severson didn’t blush when he mentioned Lori’s name.
Betty grinned. “Her one continual act of lawlessness is speeding. But, my niece usually charms her way out of any ticket.”
Severson tapped his pen methodically on the tabletop. “What about the people the three of you hang with? Are any of them experiencing problems? Drugs? Gambling? Money issues?”
Betty shook her head. “Not only are the three of us boringly normal, but so are our friends.”
“Even Gloria?”
“Well, she did tell me she would like to kill every single patron who failed to return their library books, but other than that she’s pretty normal.”
“Still, you don’t spend every single moment with either Tillie, Lori or Gloria,” he reminded her. “There’s no way you can know what a person is up to behind closed doors.”
“That’s true,” Betty answered.