Misty was very busy on Thursday and didn’t have time to keep walking to Cabin Six to see if Arlo had returned. She stayed up until eleven, then went to bed. She had just gotten to sleep, when she heard the key turn in the back door. Arlo barged in and dragged her out of bed. He started accusing her of all sorts of things. Most of the accusations were false, such as she’d been cheating with men for years, which was ridiculous because she’d been loyal to Arlo until Josh.
When Arlo got to the part about Josh, she couldn’t lie. Worn down by the argument, she confessed. She hoped it would make her feel better, but it didn’t.
Arlo went into a rage and threatened to kill Josh. He ran out of the cabin and took the dune path in front of the cabins. Misty ran after him. Instinctively, she knew he was heading for Josh’s cabin, which didn’t make sense because she’d already told him Josh wouldn’t be back until late Friday night. She thought, if only Arlo would fall down the dune and break his neck. Then, his death would purely be an accident.
She’d caught up with Arlo as he was turning the manager’s key in Josh’s door. “I told you already. He’s not coming back until tomorrow night. Can we talk this through?”
Arlo stopped and glared at her.
“Say something? Where have you been?” Misty asked angrily. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”
“Don’t you fret about me. You better worry about what I’m going to do to lover boy.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s simple. I’m going to break his neck.”
“Arlo, please, I beg of you. Don’t kill him. I’ll call it off. I’ll break up with him and tell him to leave. You’ll never see him again. I promise. I made a terrible mistake. Please, come back home with me.”
Arlo brushed past her.
“Now where are you going?”
Arlo didn’t answer. He headed to Cabin Six, opened the side door and walked in.
Misty ran after him. “Arlo, I need my keys. I have supplies to pick up tomorrow.”
Arlo reached into his pocket and pulled out her keys. He threw them at her. “Have fun hitching a ride to Gary,” he fumed.
“Gary? What are you talking about?”
“I drove it to the Bigmart and left it there, but I’m not telling you where I parked it. Have some more fun finding it in their busy parking lot.”
“You lie. You didn’t do something so stupid. If you did, how did you get back here?”
Arlo laughed. “My buddy Joe picked me up.”
“Damn you,” Misty cursed.
“Oh, and another thing, I’m going to call Sheriff Earle and tell him Josh stole my truck. How do you like those apples?” he said, slamming the door.
“I hate you,” Misty yelled through the closed door. She walked to the service road behind the cabins. She stopped several times to call Josh, but he didn’t pick up. Finally, she left a voicemail and told him not to return until Monday. She hoped by then Arlo would have calmed down. When she got back to her cabin, she turned to see who was driving down the lane. Her heart skipped a beat. Josh pulled up in the new Sierra.
Josh parked, opened his door and stepped out. Misty met him on the sidewalk.
Josh yanked Misty in an embrace, but when he tried to kiss her, she turned her face. “Hey, what’s the matter with you? Didn’t you miss me?” he asked, dejected.
“What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming back until Friday.”
Josh ignored the question. “That’s a fine welcome,” he said, pushing her away. “I’ve been bustin’ my chops getting that drug you wanted to off your husband.”
“Shhh,” Misty said. “Voices carry. Someone might hear you.”
“What are you doing outside this late at night? What’s up?”
“Look, Josh, Arlo knows about us. He freaked out.”
“Where is he?” Josh asked, suddenly concerned. He didn’t want to fight Arlo, who was strong as an ox.
“He said he was going to kill you. He ran off to your cabin, but I chased him down and said you weren’t there.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Where is he now?” Josh said, looking around.
“He moved into Cabin Six.”
“Great. Right next to mine. That sucks.”
“Big time.”
Josh caught her by the arm and put his hand over her mouth. “Someone’s walking up the sidewalk next door.”
Misty broke free. “It’s Kate,” she whispered. “Come inside. We don’t want her to see us.”
They ducked into the manager’s cabin.
Josh said, “I don’t think she saw us, but I’d better move the truck.”
“I don’t think it’s safe for you to go to your cabin. I want you to stay at the Seagull Inn until Monday.”
“Monday. Seagull Inn? Do I look like I have money?”
“I can give you some.”
Josh shrugged the offer off. “I don’t want your money. I’ll drive down to the truck stop and sleep in the truck.”
Misty said, “And, that’s another thing, Arlo wants the truck back. He said he was calling the sheriff and telling him that you stole it.”
“I ain’t afraid of no country bumpkin sheriff.”
“Josh, you have to give it back.”
“Well, I can’t.”
“Why?”
“I’ve got things to do.”
Misty didn’t ask him what kind of things he had to do. She began to cry.
Josh took her in his arms. “It’s gonna be okay,” he said tenderly.
They kissed a long, passionate kiss, then Josh left.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he called from the side door.
“No, don’t come back until I tell you to. I have to work this thing out with Arlo.”
Josh didn’t answer but got in the truck, fired up the engine, and took off.
Chapter Eight
Friday Morning
Back at the Erie Diner
The Erie diner was buzzing with its usual morning crowd, who were mostly men. Cushioned-seated booths lined three of the walls. In the center was a number of tables pushed up against each other to form a long table. The set-up was similar on the right-hand and left-hand sides. The tables were not reserved, but there was an understanding in Erie that you sat at the table with your group mostly comprised of the town gossips. The peak period of the “gossip, general news, and downright lies” was between five and nine a.m. The far-left table was the ball-cap table, and was frequented by construction, maintenance, and HVAC workers. Jake’s dad Johnny and his Uncle Cokey sat at this table. Whenever Jake would come to the restaurant, he’d join them at the ball-cap table. His friends at the table affectionately called him Professor Jake. The far-right table was where the farmers sat with their caps advertising the latest corn hybrid or the name of a feed store outside the town limits. The center table was frequented by retired men from all sorts of professions. This became known as the liars’ table based on the frequency of downright tall tales that were spun by this group of very imaginative men.
By nine a.m. the breakfast crowd would clear out. Men would settle their checks, go outside, jump in their pickups, and either go home or to work. Servers would divide and move the tables to accommodate the lunch crowd. If you were a woman in Erie, and you didn’t want to be talked about, you wouldn’t go to the diner until lunch time.
The dynamics of the diner never changed.
At seven, in the morning, James John, known around town as Jimbo, arrived. He walked in the diner to find two long tables filled with patrons, but the liars’ table was empty. He was dismayed that his cohorts hadn’t shown up yet. He had some news that would blow their minds. He took a seat, grabbed the empty coffee cup that was sitting on the table, and tapped it on the table. That was his way of ordering coffee.
Ruby, a good-hearted widow in her forties, with curly, prematurely gray hair, grabbed a fresh pot and headed to Jimbo.
“Good mornin’, Ruby girl,” Jimbo greeted. “How’
s business?”
Ruby scoffed, “Been the same as it’s always been.”
Jimbo teased, “You should know. Didn’t ya start workin’ here in 1950?”
“Ain’t been here that long,” she said with one hand on her hip. “Keep that up, Mister, and you’ll find a fly in your eggs.”
Jimbo roared with laughter. “Ah, you know I love ya, Ruby.”
“Yeah, right,” Ruby answered, heading to the next customer.
Jimbo fidgeted at the table. He sipped his coffee and checked out newcomers as they came in. After ten minutes, he was thrilled when his two friends, Clarence and Buster, arrived. The two men walked into the restaurant and greeted everyone they knew with a loud hello, the word reverberating off the metal-clad diner walls.
“Ruby,” Jimbo called. “Bring that coffee pot over.”
“Just a sec, buddy. Can’t ya see I’m busy?” She went over to another table and poured coffee, took their orders, then came back over to Jimbo. “What are you liars gonna be talkin’ about today?” she asked with a big smile.
“I ain’t sayin’,” Jimbo said, winking.
Ruby poured coffee in the newcomer’s cups, then topped off Jimbo’s. “I guess I’ll find out soon enough. Word travels fast around here.” She moved off to wait on another customer.
Jimbo began, “I’ve got news that will make your teeth drop.”
“Out with it,” Clarence said.
“It’s a good one,” Jimbo said.
“Well, tell it,” Buster insisted.
“You know how I had to go to Rensselaer yesterday?”
“Yeah, to see your daughter,” Clarence answered, then prodded, “And?”
“I took my daughter and my son-in-law to this great BBQ place. If you haven’t been there you really need to go,” Jimbo said.
“I think I’ve been there. Lou’s Place, right?”
“Yep, that’s it. I had a stack of ribs oozing with Lou’s brand of BBQ sauce, a mound of special seasoned French fries, and a bowl of coleslaw that had just the right amount of celery seeds and sugar in it.”
“Get to the point? What’s your juicy gossip?” Buster asked.
“I walked in and there sittin’ in the back was Stevie Sanders.”
Ruby caught the name Stevie Sanders and walked over to the table. Any topic relating to one of the Sanders boys was hot news. The Sanders dated way back in Erie’s history. Great Grandpa Sanders was a bootlegger; his son’s son, now deceased, was a kingpin of criminal activity. Stevie was a less-frequent topic because he had gone clean, so there wasn’t much to talk about him, until . . .
“What was he doing there?” Ruby asked nosily.
A crowd of men walked in the diner, laughing at something they’d been talking about in the parking lot. They joined the three men at the liars’ table.
Clarence said, “Sit down, fellahs. Jimbo has a good one to tell ya.”
In unison, the men asked for coffee, but Ruby didn’t move to get it. “Keep talkin’,” she said to Jimbo.
Jimbo filled them in. “I was in Rensselaer last night at that BBQ place — Lou’s Place. I spotted Stevie Sanders sittin’ at a table with a woman from Erie.”
“That’s not a scoop,” Clarence said.
“Let me finish.”
Buster elbowed Jimbo on the arm, “Who was she?”
“Jake Cokenberger’s wife.”
“No way!” the men said, shocked.
Clarence added his two cents. “Word is all over town that Stevie hasn’t dated anyone since he got out of the pen because he’s in love with Jake’s wife.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” one of the newcomers reflected. “He even bought the house next to hers.”
Another one added, “That’s suspicious. Stevie would know the whereabouts of Jake at all times, then you know . . .” He didn’t finish the comment, but the group at the table got the gist of what he’d said.
“Her name is Katherine,” Buster said. “Nice lady. It couldn’t have been her. She’s nuts over her husband.”
“You callin’ me a liar? It was her,” Jimbo begged to differ. “Since I had my cataracts removed, I can see clear as a sunny day.”
“What did she look like?”
“She had long black hair and beautiful green eyes.”
“How the heck did you see the color of her eyes?”
“She had this emerald green blouse on, and the lighting in the restaurant was such, that when she glanced at me, just one time, I could see how green her eyes were.”
“You’ve got it wrong. Katherine Cokenberger has short black hair,” Buster corrected.
“I know it was her.”
“Maybe she was wearing a wig,” Clarence said.
“A wig. Don’t be ridiculous!” a man at the far end said.
“As a disguise. She didn’t want anybody to recognize her.”
“In Rensselaer? That’s miles from here. Takes a good hour to drive it. What are the odds that three people from Erie would be there at the same time?”
“Just sayin,” Jimbo defended. “Three from Erie. Stevie, Jake’s wife, and me.”
“Yeah, how many people from Erie hang out there?” Clarence asked.
“I was there,” Jimbo said adamantly. “I tell you it was Jake’s wife.”
“Can we get some service here?” a man sitting in a booth, called over to Ruby.
“Yes, coming,” she said, heading to the other customer.
One of the ball-capped men sitting next to the liars’ table leaned over and asked Jimbo, “Are you sure about that? I wouldn’t want to cross the Cokenberger clan. Or the Sanders bunch. If Stevie finds out you’re talkin’ about him, you better hide.”
Jimbo put up his hand. “Scout’s honor, Ben! I saw it with my own two eyes.”
Ben turned in his chair and told the man on his left who told the next man. The information was hot. The word spread like a children’s telephone game. In less than five minutes, the entire diner was buzzing with the news: Stevie Sanders was having an affair with Katherine Cokenberger.
Chapter Nine
Friday Morning at the Seagull Cabin Three
Scout and Abra sat side-by-side on the bedroom’s windowsill and were looking intently at something outside. Scout’s tail was twitching; Abra’s was flipping back and forth.
“At-at-at-at-at!” Scout clucked.
Katherine jumped out of bed. “What’s going on?” she said in a low voice, so as to not disturb Colleen, who was still asleep.
“How did you two get in here?” The bedroom door was standing wide-open. “What are you looking at?” she asked, joining them at the window. She tugged the curtains open and looked outside. A large seagull was perched on the other side of the window. When the bird saw the human, it began pecking on the glass. “That’s the biggest gull I’ve ever seen.”
Colleen moaned from the top bunk, “What’s that noise? Make it stop.”
The seagull squawked and continued pecking on the glass.
Scout reared up and drummed the window with her front paws.
“What time is it?” Katherine said to the lump on the top bunk.
“I don’t care,” Colleen said, pulling the comforter over her head.
Katherine grabbed her cell phone off the charger and checked the time. “Oh, my, it’s nine o’clock. Doesn’t Mum have something planned for us this morning?”
Colleen threw the covers off. “You’re right. We’re supposed to go to the spa today.”
“There’s a spa at the Dunes State Park?” Katherine asked incredulously.
Colleen laughed. “There’s one in Michigan City. Supposedly, it’s the best spa in the Midwest.”
“Okay, I vote the gal on the lower bunk gets the bathroom first.” Katherine ran out of the room.
“Cheater,” Colleen called.
The seagull gave a final squawk and flew away.
Colleen climbed the bunk’s ladder to the floor, then threw on her robe. She walked into the small kitchen.
Mum was sitting at the table, drinking a cup of tea. “Good morning. How are you this morning?”
“Not so good,” Mum answered.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve got a bit of a headache. Would you girls mind if I don’t go to the spa with you this morning.”
Colleen sat down across from her mother. “I know why you have the headache,” she said knowingly.
“I don’t need a lecture, dearie.”
“If you don’t go with us, what are you going to do today?”
“Just putter about the cabin, sit on the porch and read.”
Katherine came into the kitchen with her hair lathered up with shampoo.
“The Saints preserve us. What happened to you?” Mum asked.
“I was halfway through my shower, when the hot water gave out.”
Mum suggested. “Sounds like a problem with the water heater. Find me a match and I’ll go light it.”
Colleen and Katherine said in unison. “No, that won’t be necessary.” Neither one of them trusted Mum to know what she was doing, and feared she’d blow the place up.
Katherine asked, “Do you have the manager’s card?”
Mum answered, “It’s on the refrigerator. It has a magnet of a fish on it.”
Katherine moved over and extracted the business card. She punched in the number on her phone. While the phone rang, she asked, “Mum, what’s his name again? It just has a first initial here.”
“I never met the man. Ask for Misty.”
Katherine mouthed the word thanks, then spoke into the phone. “May I speak to the manager, please? Oh, he’s not at home. I want to report a problem in Cabin Three. Yes, a problem. There’s no hot water,” she complained. “Yes, today would be good, but tell him to not use his key. I have two cats and I don’t want them to get out. Yes, yes. Two cats. I paid a pet deposit when I booked the room, remember? Of course, you remember. I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise. Okay, I’ll be here to meet him. Noon, you said. Yes, that’s great. Thanks,” she said, hanging up.
“She was rather testy,” Katherine commented. When Colleen and Mum didn’t answer, she said, “I won’t be able to go to the spa with you two. I have to be here at noon to let in the maintenance man.”
The Cats that Walked the Haunted Beach (The Cats that . . . Cozy Mystery Book 10) Page 6