Bones, Booze & Bouquets

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Bones, Booze & Bouquets Page 12

by Marianne Spitzer


  Georgie picked up the list and asked, “Are you sure you remembered everyone?”

  I nodded. “Everyone important, I think. I know I remembered my family and Clark’s. He told his son that if he wants to attend that he’d pay for his flight here. I added all our close friends.”

  Georgie sat and perused the list. “You’re inviting Chief Elroy?”

  I shrugged, “Clifford is Clark’s boss. It’s the right thing to do.”

  “Yeah, Clark works for the city. I don’t see the mayor or Phillips on your list,” she grinned at me.”

  “Weddings are joyous celebrations. Inviting either of them would ruin my day.”

  “Same goes for Claudine; I take it. I don’t see her on the list.”

  I frowned, “Laci would love it if I invited her, but I don’t trust her not to make a scene or maybe try to shoot me again. I told Laci we would go to Mom and Dad Ryan’s one Sunday before she goes back to college. We’ll have dinner and Claudine will be there. I plan to wait until after the wedding so I can bring Clark. I might need to have Claudine restrained.”

  Georgie laughed and then stopped. “I guess it isn’t funny, really. How can you be sure it’s safe to be around her?”

  “I’ll trust Mom Ryan’s opinion. Claudine is still in therapy, and Mom Ryan said she’s doing well. We can hope she recovers fully after her breakdown. I can understand now that the shock of nearly being shot is over. If I thought someone killed you, I might go crazy, too. Claudine couldn’t cope after Barbara died.” I sipped my shake and tried to smile at Georgie. I never liked Claudine, but I wouldn’t wish what she’s been through on my worst enemy.

  Georgie nodded slowly and then looked up from the list. “You added Lou and his wife. Are you inviting every business owner in town?”

  “No, but Lou watches over me like a dad, and he’s been extra watchful since my folks moved to Arizona. The poor man nearly had a stroke the day I was stuck on top of the bookshelves. He offered to walk me down the aisle if my dad can’t make it. Besides Lou, the only business owners I want to invite are Lizzy and Betsy.”

  “What about Mrs. Waterson? She knows all about your wedding because she took your invitation order.”

  I groaned. I knew I should’ve ordered them on-line. “Yeah, when I ordered the invitations I told her she was invited. I think we have everyone. Let’s start addressing them. I need to mail them today.”

  After two hours and only one customer interruption, we made it through the list.

  “Thanks, Georgie. I think that should do it. If I think of anyone else, I can write the envelope. I’m glad this is behind me. You made a daunting task fun.”

  I placed the envelopes in the box they came in and planned to drop them off at the post office before it closed. Georgie stood and stretched. “I didn’t think writing would make me tired. I need to get back to the Grille before the dinner rush. Don’t we have an appointment with Miss Grace and Joy in a few days for a final fitting?”

  “Yeah, we do. This time I’m going to make sure Laci comes with us. She’s been a lot friendlier lately, and I hope she doesn’t pull away again. I know she and Beth Ann can go to fittings on their own, but I’d like to see her in the dress. It’s a good idea to see what she looks like before the ceremony. Sometimes she makes me feel like a terrible mom, and sometimes I feel like a neglected mom.”

  Georgie hugged me tightly. “Don’t worry. She’ll come around soon. She just needs to get to know Clark better.”

  “I still need them to sit down together and talk.”

  “Why don’t you take her out to dinner with Clark. I think she’s smart enough to be civil in a restaurant.”

  “I hope you’re right. Being a mom is tough. Do you remember when they were little and we said it'd be easier when they grow up?”

  Georgie laughed out loud. “Yup, little was easier. I gotta run. Let me know if you need anything.”

  Georgie hurried out the door, and I sat to think about her suggestion.

  Laci works at the diner tonight. I think I’ll have dinner there and find out when her next night off is and we’ll all go out to dinner. Clark and Laci need to talk before the wedding. I can’t imagine having a wedding without them speaking. Laci is stubborn, but then she gets that from me. I shouldn’t complain.

  ~ * ~

  Yummy and I made it home late. I had a lovely dinner, and Laci agreed to go out to dinner on her next night off. Lou decided he needed to ask me every possible question about my wedding. He was more inquisitive than the wedding planner. When I finally answered all his questions to assure him my wedding would be perfect, he allowed me to leave. I hugged him tightly. I love him like a second dad or a grandpa. He truly is the sweetest man unless you upset him. Then beware, he can be worse than a hurricane. After a shower, Yummy and I settled down on my bed, and I searched the internet for Warren “Skip” Scrumbly.

  I found one article about him that explained he spent time in prison for being a con-man. Not much else, but I assume his life has been difficult with a prison record. Could he be involved with Willy’s murder? If so, why? There must be something I’m missing.

  I pulled out the journal again and read each page. On the last page was a small note I overlooked earlier. Four items were listed. “Coins, satchel, cloth bags, and Dritzle.” Not knowing what Dritzle was, I searched for that, too. I know my mouth fell open when I found the information. I immediately texted Georgie and asked her to call me when she had time. Five minutes later, Georgie called.

  “Hi,” I explained what I found out about Skip Scrumbly and then I explained the rest of what I discovered. “I didn’t know what Dritzle meant, and when I looked it up on-line, I found it is an antique coin and treasures shop about fifty miles from here. It’s been in business since 1900 and began by selling and trading gold coins and bars. I think someone, one of the three listed in the journal, bought gold coins with the illegal money they made from the bootlegging.”

  “Okay,” Georgie answered. “I can see one of them buying coins, carrying them away in the satchel, so no one knows what they have, and later divided them up into the cloth bags. Then what?”

  “I wish I knew. What if some or all those coins were stolen by whoever bought them instead of shared. It could be why Ralph Wiley was murdered. That makes more sense than he was killed because he was a bootlegger.”

  I could hear the excitement in Georgie’s voice when she answered. “Yeah. He was blamed and killed when he refused to give them up. Then one of the descendants found out about it and thought Willy had them and killed him. The question is who killed him?”

  “There are three possibilities. Bart Quigley, the mayor, or the mayor’s cousin Skip.”

  “I vote for the cousin since those thugs said they were looking for something for Scrumbly.”

  “Agreed,” I answered. “My money’s on Skip, too and from his past, he might know how to find men like those two who were at Old Lady Hagenbak’s. Remember they said they were looking for ‘them.’ What if ‘them’ are the coins? We need to search her house again, and this time we need to search the cellar, too.”

  “When?” Georgie answered sounding more excited than afraid.

  “As soon as possible.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  My idea of as soon as possible was going to have to wait a few days. Between dress fittings, dinner with Clark and Laci, another meeting with the wedding planner, and my obligations at the bookstore, Georgie and I needed to push our investigation aside for several days. Nothing was going to stop us for long, and we settled on Sunday evening to search Old Lady Hagenbak’s cellar.

  I let Yummy out for a run in the backyard before Georgie arrived. Uncle Lyle meandered out of his house and smiled at me. “What are you up to tonight, Annie?” He stared at me as if he knew Georgie and I were off on an investigation.

  I smiled back. “Georgie and I are going to have coffee and discuss a few last-minute wedding plans,” I lied. Hoping to turn the conversation in anothe
r direction, I asked, “Where’s Aunt Irene?”

  “She’s over at Doris’ house. They’re giving each other facials and whatever else ladies do to try and look more beautiful. I don’t think she needs to do any of that, but if it makes her happy, I’m happy.”

  I nodded. “That’s sweet. Oh, Georgie’s here. I need to put Yummy in the house. Have a good evening, Uncle Lyle.” I waved as I ran back into the house. He waved back but kept staring at me. I think he knows I lied. I never could lie well.

  With Yummy settled in my powder room with food, water, a soft blanket, and toys, I hurried out to meet Georgie.

  I slid into the passenger seat, and before I could close the door, Georgie looked at me intently and said, “I don’t see any bruises. I take it dinner with Clark and Laci went well. Your text was rather vague.”

  I had to laugh at my friend. She didn’t beat around the bush and always asks me straight out when she’s curious about something.

  “Dinner was enjoyable. Clark took us to that new family restaurant out on the highway. He thought it’d be more comfortable to talk there instead of Dunber’s Steak House. Clark was right, but it was more of an interrogation than a talk. Laci asked him everything from why he left California, to why he joined the police force, to why he didn’t visit his son. Laci was polite and listened to his answers.”

  Georgie frowned. “What did Clark say?”

  “He answered honestly, and when he explained that his son was in college back East and would be coming to the wedding, it seemed to calm Laci’s fears that he’s an absentee father. After that we had dessert, and when Clark and Laci both asked for chocolate and strawberry sauce on their sundaes, the mood lightened, and Laci laughed a few times.”

  “Then the wedding’s on?” Georgie asked and then turned onto the road leading to Old Lady Hagenbak’s house.

  “It was never off. I can’t marry or not marry someone on the whim of Laci’s moods. Aunt Irene is right, Laci will have her own life, I should have mine,” I added as I climbed out of the car.

  “Do you have all the wedding details down?”

  “Yup,” I said as I walked toward the path that would lead to the house. “Invitations sent, the last fitting scheduled, Mitzi knows how many candles to make and the colors, Betsy has our cupcake order, Lizzy is set with the flowers, Glory is taking care of getting the tables, chairs, linens, and an archway in case we can get married on the beach. She’s also arranging music and a bartender, Clark spoke to the pastor at church, and I hired professional cleaners to make sure the mansion is spotless.”

  “What about food?”

  I stopped and grimaced. “Ugg, I have to decide on that. Clark decided to leave it up to me. Betsy’s sister Carlotta is an excellent caterer. I want this to be different and unique. It’s a small wedding, and we can have a sit-down dinner. I thought we could offer grilled chicken and potatoes or Rouladen and potato dumplings.”

  “Mmm,” Georgie responded. “Rouladen the way your grandma used to make?”

  “The same, only smaller pieces. Grandma used to make large servings. She worried people would go hungry,” I laughed remembering my grandma’s meals. No one ever went hungry when they sat down at her table.

  “You’re making me hungry, and I ate dinner,” Georgie complained as we made it out of the woods and into the backyard. The sun shone brightly on the backyard and sunset was two hours away. It should give us plenty of time to leave before dark. I glanced up at the large farmhouse and wondered what secrets it held. If only it could talk. Generations of Scrumblys and Hagenbaks lived in the house. Surely, it held secrets. It isn’t going to talk, and I suppose it’s time to search.

  I pulled open the back door and walked into the house. From the hall, I could see the hole in the living room ceiling plaster caused by Aunt Irene’s rifle bullet. I wish I were as brave as my aunt, but I didn’t want to run around town with a rifle in my car. Maybe Clark could teach me to shoot a small gun, but I doubt I could use it. After staring down the barrel of Claudine’s gun the day she locked me in my bookstore’s cellar, I’m not sure I could do that to another person. Maybe it would come in handy for trudging through the woods in case we do meet up with a wild animal.

  “Annie? Annie, are you listening to me?” Georgie’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

  “Oh, yeah, I am. Just lost in thought for a minute. What did you say?”

  Georgie rolled her eyes at me. “I can see that. I asked if you were going down the stairs first. If there is another body, I don’t want to be the one to find it.” She took a step away from the cellar door.

  “I’ll go first,” I answered as I flipped on my flashlight and opened the door.

  Staring down the dark stairs, I said a prayer that they would hold my weight. I took a tentative step forward, and the first wooden slat under my feet felt stable and unmoving. “I think it’ll be safe. The stairs seem sturdy.” I moved down until I reached the basement floor. Georgie followed once I made it down safely.

  Filtered sunlight tried to shine through the grimy windows. I scanned the basement and didn’t see much—a few empty wooden shelves, an old utility sink, a wringer washing machine, and several old metal chairs. I turned to Georgie and asked, “Do you think we made a mistake? It’s empty down here. At least in the mansion, we found bootleg booze and a body.”

  “Do you really want to find another body,” Georgie asked as she inspected the brick wall at the far end of the basement. “Hey, some of this brick, or at least the mortar, looks cleaner than the rest. Maybe it’s newer.”

  “You’re right. It looks newer. Do you suppose someone hid something behind the wall?”

  Georgie took a step backward shaking her head. “I don’t want to know. This is like one of my nightmares. I knock the wall down and find myself.”

  “You need to stop eating burgers with onions before bedtime,” I advised her and couldn’t conceal my smile.

  “Maybe, but I still don’t like bricked up walls. It’s like a horror movie.”

  “We still don’t know if something is behind there. It might be from a water leak that someone needed to repair. Let’s look.”

  “How?”

  I saw a few rusty tools lying under the stairs. I picked up a long screwdriver and a hammer. “With these. I’ll dig at the mortar, and you can hit the bricks.” I handed her the hammer.

  “Why do I have to use the hammer?”

  “So you can hit whatever is back there that might scare you,” I said laughing out loud this time.

  “That’s not funny.” Georgie crossed her arms. “Fine, start digging at the mortar.”

  I nodded and scraped at the mortar. After I had dug at it for a few minutes, Georgie wacked the bricks with the hammer loosening a few. “It’s working.”

  “If we can loosen one and remove it, the rest will be easier.”

  I scraped more, and Georgie smacked the bricks with the hammer. After several minutes, we removed the first brick. I pulled out my flashlight and tried to see inside. “All I see is darkness, but I think there’s an opening. The light seems to go in a bit before it hits another wall.”

  Georgie smacked the bricks harder. “These two are loosening. If there’s a hiding place, I want to find it and go home before we find something we don’t want.”

  I’m not sure how long we worked on the opening, but it was starting to get dark, so I assumed it was at least an hour. Georgie gave the loose bricks a whack then pushed with the hammer, and several bricks fell out. The opening was big enough to see into, and I think I see something near the bottom.

  “I think there’s something in there.”

  “Then get it. There’s no way I’m putting my hand in there. What if someone grabs it,” Georgie insisted.

  “If someone is in there, they’re dead.”

  “Even worse. I refuse to be grabbed by a dead body.”

  “Georgie, get a grip. Dead bodies can’t grab you.”

  “You have never seen one of my dreams.


  “Onions,” I mumbled and took a deep breath. Saying a quick prayer for safety, I reached into the opening. My hand felt a solid object. Maybe it’s part of the building, but it moved when I pushed it.

  “I found something. I’m going to see if I can pull it out. Get ready with the hammer.”

  “What for,” Georgie gasped. “You can’t kill a dead body.”

  “No, but you can kill a live rat.”

  “There’s rats in there?” Georgie was pale.

  I shrugged, “I have no idea, but I’d rather be prepared than sorry.”

  Georgie nodded as I gripped the object and pulled it from the opening.

  “It’s a satchel,” Georgie said looking stunned. “Is it full of gold coins?”

  “I doubt it,” looking at the worn, damp, dark brown satchel. “It isn’t heavy.”

  Georgie and I examined the satchel. “It’s empty. Why would someone hide an empty satchel?”

  She had a good question. “I don’t know. Maybe they didn’t want anyone to know they took the coins, so they tossed the satchel back in the hiding place which is what I think this is. Then they bricked the wall up again. It’s only a guess.” I bit my lip trying to figure out the answer.

  “Why would someone do that?”

  “I don’t know unless they didn’t want to be seen with the satchel.”

  “Okay, I can understand that, but where are the coins?”

  “I’d like an answer to that question, too,” a deep voice said from the stairs behind us.

  Georgie spun around ready to battle a dead body but dropped her hammer when she saw a live man holding a gun.

  “Who are you?” I managed to ask.

  “Someone who wants answers. From your conversation, it appears you don’t know where the coins are, but I have a feeling you know who might have them. You managed to figure out they were hidden here. What else do you know?”

  “Not much,” I answered. “You need to speak to the mayor or his cousin or Bart Quigley. The only other person who might know is Willy Wylie, and he’s dead.”

 

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