Bones, Booze & Bouquets

by Marianne Spitzer

  “The murder of Willy Wiley,” we blurted out at the same time.

  “You better tell Clark,” Georgie said pulling her keys from her pocket.

  “Not before we check out the basement at the flower shop and make a phone call.”

  “Phone call?”

  I nodded. “We need to head over to the phone booth next to the park. You can make the call. You can change your voice well.”

  “Who are we calling and why the old pay phone?” She pulled her car door open.

  “The pay phone won’t show our phone numbers, and if the police come to check it out, we’ll be long gone.”

  “Why would the police come,” Georgie bit her lower lip.

  “Because you’re going to call them and tell them Bart Quigley’s life is in danger. I’ll ride over to the park with you.”

  “Wait, why can’t you tell Clark? Why do I have to make the call?”

  “Clark will tell that creepy new detective, and you disguise your voice well. All you have to do is say ‘I heard two men saying they’re going to kill Bart Quigley and hang up.’”

  Georgie shook her head and slid behind the wheel of her car. She leaned her forehead on her steering wheel and mumbled, “Why me?”

  “They won’t connect you. Clark will hear about it and think it’s me. I can honestly tell him I didn’t do it. Besides, that creepy detective thinks I’m involved. He told me not to leave town.”

  I closed the car door, and Georgie started the car. She looked at me, “This time I’ll be arrested. It’s illegal to make a false police report.”

  “It isn’t false. Someone killed Willy because of his connection to the bootleggers. Bart could be next. We should help him, and you know the police will never listen to us. I’m sure they see me as a possible suspect. If we tell them, they’ll think I’m trying to toss them a red herring.”

  “Agreed.” Georgie shook her head most of the way to the park.

  Georgie pulled up near the old pay phone and turned off her car. “How much does it cost to make a call? Last I remember it was fifty cents. I bet it’s more now. Do you have any quarters?”

  Between the two of us and the cup holder in Georgie’s car, we came up with several quarters. “I hope it’s enough,” she mumbled as she climbed from her car. “Come on; I’m not doing this alone.”

  A light mist began to fall, and Georgie muttered, “Wonderful, all we need is rain. Now I’ll get drenched.”

  “Calm down; it isn’t raining yet. Let’s hurry.”

  Georgie reached for the phone and pulled her hand back. “Fingerprints. Do you have a glove or something?”

  “It’s too warm for gloves. Pull your sleeve over your hand.”

  She shrugged and picked up the receiver and before she dropped in two quarters she asked, “Hey, shouldn’t a call to 911 be free. They could get fingerprints off the coins. I bet ours will be the only coins in there.”

  I nodded. “Just skip the coins and dial. It might work.”

  Georgie pushed the number 9 then 1 and 1 with a shirt covered finger. Her eyes grew huge, and she lowered her voice in pitch but raised it in volume, “Help, someone is going to kill Bart Quigley. Send someone to save him.” She slammed the phone back and ran toward her car. “Hurry up; I bet the police are coming.”

  I ran after her, and we both jumped into her car. Georgie drove off down the street without her seat belt until she pulled into the lot behind my bookstore. Georgie never goes anywhere unless everyone is buckled in securely. She’s nervous.

  “Let’s go in the bookstore and calm down. I don’t want to drive while I’m shaking and your store is the perfect place to hide.” She hurried out of the car and straight to my store’s back door.

  I followed and unlocked the door. Georgie walked in and dropped on the sofa in my reading lounge. “Do you have chocolate? Please tell me there’s chocolate in your office.”

  “Always.” I smiled.

  As I pulled out the jar containing my hidden stash of chocolate, I heard sirens. Georgie ran into my office and grabbed the jar from my hands. She pulled off the lid and handed it back to me. Stuffing several pieces in her mouth, she mumbled, “I bet they don’t have chocolate in prison. I think those sirens are coming for me.”

  “Calm down,” I led her back to the sofa and gently pushed her to sit down. “We are only three blocks from the phone you used. They’re probably heading over there and not here. Eat some more chocolate. I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Just to be sure there isn’t a police car out front.” I heard Georgie groan as I hurried to the front of the store in the dark. The street was empty, and I didn’t see any flashing lights. I walked back and smiled at her. “It’s okay. I checked out the back door just to be sure. All’s clear,” I told Georgie.

  My best friend smiled at me and stuffed two more pieces of chocolate in her mouth. “Hey, what if they recognize my voice?”

  “How can they?” I took a piece of chocolate while there was some left. “You lowered your voice. You sounded like a guy, well more like a teenage boy. Your voice rose in pitch and squeaked a bit.”

  She pulled her legs up under her on the sofa and set the chocolate down on the table. “Seriously, Annie, what if they have voice recognition software and they’ll figure out it was me?”

  I twisted on the sofa to look at her. “All you did was warn them. They aren’t going to go through all kinds of trouble to find out who you are.”

  Her eyes grew large, and she stammered, “What if we’re too late and he’s already dead?”

  “I never thought of that.”

  Oh, goodness gracious. I didn’t think of that before I came up with the dumb idea. If Bart is dead, they will try and find the person who placed the call. Think, Annie, think. They’ll say Georgie killed Bart and send her to prison. She can’t go to prison. She hasn’t done anything. It was my idea. I need to take the blame.

  “Georgie,” I spoke softly hoping not to upset her. “If Bart is dead, I’ll tell the police the call was my idea. They won’t blame us. We were together all evening and with others during the day.”

  Georgie dropped her head in her hands. “If he’s dead, I bet he was killed last night about three in the morning. Isn’t that when killers kill people? Paul was asleep. He can’t be my alibi. You were alone, too. We’ll be in trouble.”

  “Don’t worry, no one is dead, and we’re not in trouble…yet.”

  ~ * ~

  Yummy licked my face until I woke. “What is it, little guy? Did I sleep too long?” I knew I tossed and turned most of the night worried Clark would show up and question me or worse that Detective Wilton would arrest me.

  My phone rang, and I wiped the sleep from my eyes. Caller ID showed it was Georgie, but she never calls in the morning. A quick text but not a call.

  “Hi, Georgie.”

  “Hi, I only have a couple of minutes while Paul’s in the shower. Dot texted me a few moments ago. Bart Quigley was taken into protective custody late last night. He’s not dead, but whoever listened to the call must have taken it seriously. Did we commit a crime and if so which one?”

  “No, I believe we saved a life. Someone killed Willy Wiley and whoever killed him would go after Bart next. It’s all connected with the moonshine operation, and I think the mayor is in the middle of it up to his neck.” I sat up on the edge of the bed and pondered what to do next.

  “I hope you’re right and they won’t look for me, but I’m worried they’ll wonder who knew he was in danger and why. They might hunt me down anyway.”

  “No, they won’t. If the police connect the call and Willy’s murder, they’ll look for someone who knows them both. Have you ever met Bart Quigley?”

  “I think he came into the Grille once.”

  “You’re safe. Don’t worry.”

  “I’ll try. Gotta run, the shower just stopped. Call later.”

  Georgie hung up, and I sat on the edge of my bed contemplatin
g our next move. The mayor must know something but how do we find out?

  After my shower, I walked downstairs and let Yummy out to run. Aunt Irene and Uncle Lyle were having coffee at their picnic table while Peanut ran around the puppy run. I set Yummy in to play with Peanut and accepted Aunt Irene’s invitation to have a cup of coffee. She slid a large piece of coffee cake on a plate and handed it to me while Uncle Lyle poured the coffee.

  “You look a bit worried, Annie. Is something wrong?” Aunt Irene asked.

  “Not really, I just have a lot on my mind. You know, wedding plans, hoping Laci’s attitude doesn’t change, and worried about the town blaming Lizzy’s family for the death of that man I found in the mansion.”

  “You’re good at solving mysteries,” Aunt Irene insisted. “You’ll find out Lizzy’s family didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  “Our last shot is if we find something in the basement of the flower shop that the police missed. Last night we learned the mayor’s grandfather owned the building before Mr. Smalls, but I can’t figure out why his family would be involved. Even if he was, there’s no way I can investigate him. I wouldn’t know where to begin.” I leaned my elbow on the table and propped my head up with my hand.

  “You like to investigate places,” Uncle Lyle offered. “Why not search Helga Hagenbak’s house?”

  “Old lady Hagenbak? Her house is haunted, and it’s been abandoned for well over twenty-five years. No one in their right mind goes there. That old woman’s ghost will get them.”

  “Annlynn Ryan,” Aunt Irene reprimanded. “Don’t speak ill of the dead. That old woman does not haunt the house. You kids always need a scary house, and you chose hers.” She shook her head.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. I’m not going there.” I looked at Uncle Lyle. “Why would I want to search an abandoned, haunted house?”

  He smiled and slid a bite of coffee cake into his mouth. After he chewed, swallowed, and took a sip of coffee, he answered, “Because Helga Hagenbak was Mayor Scrumbly’s maternal grandmother. I believe he owns the property.”

  My mind raced with possibilities. If the mayor owns the property, he might hide something there. I doubt many people in town connect him with the town’s haunted house.

  I leaned closer to Uncle Lyle and asked, “Why would the mayor keep that old house?”

  “It isn’t the house; it’s the land. I’m not sure how much there is, but the back of the property butts up against the Kelleher property on the other side of the lake.”

  “So, if the city has the land and develops it, the mayor’s property would become quite valuable. It explains why he wants me to give the land to the city but has nothing to do with the body in the mansion’s cellar.”

  “What if…” Uncle Lyle continued his face twisted in thought. “Let’s say the Kelleher’s and the Hagenbak family were friends. They were neighbors, after all. Back then, there weren’t many homes here. If the mayor’s grandfather courted the Hagenbak’s daughter, they might have attended the same parties. Maybe they went to the Kelleher’s and Scrumbly became involved in your bootlegging mystery.”

  “Courting? Didn’t they do that in the 1800s?”

  “Uncle Lyle shrugged, “Sounds better than dating.”

  Uncle Lyle has a point. Not with the courting comment, but there could be a connection with Old Lady Hagenbak and Mayor Scrumbly. What if there’s evidence in that old, haunted house. Georgie and I need to find out. I hugged my aunt and uncle and told them I had to get ready for work. I also had to text Georgie.

  Chapter Ten

  Have you lost your mind?

  That’s all Georgie’s text said. I waited, and she didn’t text again. I think she thinks I’m joking. I’ll give her some time to adjust to the idea of searching Old Lady Hagenbak’s haunted house. I’ll text her again when I get to work.

  Yummy and I arrived at the bookstore a half-hour before opening time. Expecting a shipment of books, I like to arrive early and work on daily chores around the shop so I can take the time to put out the new shipment. Right at nine, I turned the Closed sign to Open and heard the rear door buzzer. My book delivery.

  Before I unpacked the books, I texted Georgie again.

  Her reply: Ha ha have you been drinking?

  I remember the last time we were in Old Lady Hagenbak’s house. We were still in high school. Georgie and I double-dated with Paul and Steve. The guys thought it’d be fun to check it out. Georgie, the bravest in our group, was the first to agree. She was also the first out the door when we heard moaning coming from upstairs and swore she’d never return. I hope I don’t need to do this alone, but Georgie never backs down from a challenge. Well, maybe this one. We’ll see.

  My next text to Georgie was during my lunch break.

  Her reply: Really? Have fun.

  The first part of the afternoon kept me busy with customers and a phone call with Clark. We decided that we’d do a cake tasting the following morning if Betsy wasn’t busy. Betsy was thrilled and said she’d see us at ten. With that settled, I texted Georgie again.

  She texted back: Uh Huh what time are you going?

  Progress. I texted back that I planned to leave at six after I had dinner. I didn’t think there would be any electricity in the old house and I’d need to go before the sun sets.

  She texted back: I’ll meet you at the store at 5:45.

  Yes, my best friend is truly the best. I knew she’d come.

  I left the diner through its back door and unlocked the back door of the bookstore just as Georgie pulled in and parked. I waved at her and gathered Yummy from his favorite spot on the sofa, and he walked sleepily into his carrier.

  “Hi,” I said as I walked up to her driver’s side window. “I’d like to drop Yummy off at home. Do you want to follow me? We can take your car.”

  “Sure,” she nodded and squinted at me. I wonder if she’s upset with me or just nervous. Guess I’ll find out on the drive to Old Lady Hagenbak’s.

  Ten minutes later, I climbed into Georgie’s car after making sure Yummy had time for a quick scamper through the yard and taking care of business, then settling him in my powder room.

  “Let’s go,” I smiled at Georgie.

  She stared at me and bit her lip. “We’re actually doing this? Do you remember the last time we were in Old Lady Hagenbak’s house? I heard that ghost groan.”

  “Paul thought it was other kids upstairs.”

  “I refused to go out with him for nearly a month after that comment.”

  “I remember, and I’m glad you’re coming with me. I can’t do this alone.” I hoped my smile calmed her.

  She signed and pulled out of my driveway.

  Georgie’s never quiet, but she didn’t say anything on the ten-minute drive to Old Lady Hagenbak’s house. She drove passed the house and pulled into the parking area of the Wilderness Hiking Trail a quarter block down the street the same way we did that night over twenty years ago.

  After she had shifted into Park, she turned toward me and smiled. It was Georgie’s smile that meant she wasn’t happy but trying to be agreeable. I know her as well as I know myself.

  I dropped my shoulders and blew out a breath. “Start the car, back up, and drive me back home. I can’t make you go in there. I didn’t think you’d be this frightened. We’ll find another way to prove the mayor is part of this mystery.”

  Georgie’s eyes narrowed, and she said, “Annie Ryan, you came up with this idea, and I know if I take you home you’ll come back here alone. I can’t let you do that. When have I ever walked away from one of your crazy ideas? I didn’t run the night you fell into the open grave or when we were nearly eaten by Bigfoot. I hid with you in the mansion’s closet with that dead body. How much worse can this be?” She smiled, and it was the old Georgie, the brave Georgie, and the Georgie who’s shared fun and frights with me since grade school.

  “Okay.” I shifted in my seat to look at her. “No one will notice the car. Peopl
e use the hiking trail all the time. We can walk from here into the house’s back yard. Even though the house is empty, I don’t want to use the front door. Someone might drive down the road although the only people who use the road come to the hiking trail now. Ready for another short walk in the woods?”

  Georgie rolled her eyes. “I doubt Brutus is around this side of town and I think the woods should be safe except for Old Lady Hagenbak’s ghost.”

  I nodded, “Aunt Irene was upset with me for being disrespectful to her since she’s dead. Maybe if she does haunt the house, we could talk to her while checking for clues.”

  Georgie’s eyes slowly widened, and she answered, “You want me to speak to a ghost? You talk to her but don’t mention we’re looking for evidence against her grandson. We’ll be dead for sure never to be found again.”

  “Okay. Silence your phone. If anyone else shows up, we don’t want them to hear us. If we get separated, we can text each other.”

  “Separated,” Georgie stammered. “If you leave my side, I’ll scream.”

  “Okay, let’s go.” I climbed out of Georgie’s car and could barely see the house through the wooded area between the parking lot and the backyard. “Let’s try this way.” I pointed to what looked like an old path.

  Georgie shrugged and followed me. The path was a bit overgrown, but it didn’t hinder our short walk to the backyard. “That was easy,” I said over my shoulder as I stepped into the backyard. It was early summer, and the unkempt grass was nearly up to my mid-calf as I trudged toward the back door. The wind blew the dried leaves that no one had raked the previous fall. Looming in front of me was the old Hagenbak house. The large, two-story home once had white wood siding now grayed with age and the black shutters faded to a gray a few shades darker than the house. Surprisingly, none of the windows were broken, at least from where I could see.

  Georgie grabbed my arm. “How do you expect to get in there? I bet all the doors and windows are locked.”