by Sandi Scott
“Really? Do you remember what he looked like?”
“He looked like the rest of the weirdoes at this show. Tattoo sleeves on both arms, and he had a camera around his neck.”
Georgie couldn’t help but think that sounded like Errol. Of course, this boy was right. Tattoos were practically a requirement among the hot rod crowd. Not everyone had the sleeves the boy had mentioned, tattoos that started at the shoulder and went all the way down to the wrists covering every inch of skin in ink, but Errol Barr certainly did.
The boy handed the large lemonades to Georgie through the window. Georgie turned to Aleta who handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “Well, thanks, honey. Keep the change.” Georgie handed the money back through the window to Pete. Like a switch had been flipped, the boy’s eyes widened, and he smiled a crooked, toothy grin.
“Thanks!”
“Like she was waiting for someone?” Aleta said as she took a sip of the cool beverage. “That’s interesting.”
“And someone sneaking around the scene of the crime? That is also interesting. That person he described reminded me of Errol.”
“I wouldn’t rush to judgment just yet.” Aleta was more cautious.
The ladies continued to roam the grounds and finally decided they had seen everything that there was to see outside. The police officer hadn’t left the car stable, so Georgie decided not to approach him.
“Nature calls,” Aleta said.
“I don’t see any of the port-o-potties anywhere.”
“I’m not going in the weeds, Georgie Kaye. Don’t even suggest it.”
“What kind of a person do you think I am? Let’s go to the main building; it’s air-conditioned. Can you make it there?”
“I don’t have a choice. Don’t you have to go?”
“No,” Georgie said as she picked up her pace to hurry Aleta along.
“You drank as much as I did. How can you not have to go?”
“I can handle my liquids better than you. Simple as that.”
“I know what it is. In the womb, you hogged all the bladder cells. You’ve got a bigger bladder than me because you hogged all the bladder cells.”
“Aleta, do you ever listen to the words that come out of your mouth?”
“Yes, Georgie, and I listen to the words that come out of your mouth, too. That is why I know that you robbed me of precious bladder cells when we were just fetuses.”
“Yeah, well, you took a generous helping of mouth cells because you haven’t stopped complaining about everything since you followed me out of the birth canal.”
“Don’t make me laugh, Georgie, or else I’ll pee in my pants.” Georgie said nothing as she marched ahead of Aleta who was starting to giggle.
“Stop it!” she finally yelled.
“What?” Georgie turned around with a smile on her face. “You told me not to make you laugh. I’m not. I’m trying to get you to the bathroom before you have an accident.”
“You know what you’re doing. You’re marching like you’re going to war.” Aleta laughed. “You’re doing it on purpose.”
“For heaven’s sake, woman. Go. Over there. See the signs that say restrooms?” Georgie pointed as they reached the front of the air-conditioned tradeshow area. It was a square block of a building that had a couple of round bushes at the entrance and smooth stones bordering the sidewalk. The glass doors were propped open and a few vintage cars were still on display inside. There were merchandise booths being broken down and all the goodies that had been on sale were now being packed into boxes to be shipped back home—wherever that was.
“Make sure you go into the ladies’ room. We don’t need another incident like last time!” Georgie shouted to Aleta ensuring everyone within a five-hundred-foot radius heard her.
While waiting for her sister, Georgie walked around looking at the cars and the guests and wondered if any of them had heard about Hera’s death. Just as she was passing by a cluster of men wearing ties and white button-down shirts, she couldn’t help but overhear their conversation. “That isn’t really my problem,” one man with a crooked blue tie said. He had a round head and a thick neck that looked bound up by the white dress shirt.
“We lost a lot of money, Brock. I don’t think it would make good business to handle it any other way,” a younger man who was nervously twisting a pinky ring replied.
“Like I said. This isn’t really my problem. Good day, gentlemen.” Mr. Blue Tie stormed off.
“That’s no way to run a car show. He’s the manager of this mess. Get Head Office on the phone. We’ll see what they have to say,” Mr. Pinky ring ordered.
“The show manager is Mr. Brock Deebs,” Georgie said as soon as Aleta got back from the ladies’ room. “I just saw his name in the program as I was listening to some guys talk about losing a lot of money and that it was the car show manager’s problem. I picked up on the name because I thought we went to high school with someone by the name of Deebs.”
“I think you are thinking of Meryl Deed.”
“Oh, of course.” Georgie snapped her fingers. “Meryl Deed. Totally different person.”
“Yes. So, what did you hear?” Aleta asked.
It sounded like Brock Deebs had a bad turnout for this event.”
“How can that be? It was packed with people, wasn’t it?”
“There are tickets for the general population, and then there are the vendors. I don’t know if Hera’s death had anything to do with it, but I think he might be in need of a kind word.”
“I agree—and maybe a little snooping?” Aleta folded her arms.
“Of course. I wonder where we could find him?” Georgie looked around as if expecting a tour guide to appear and direct their steps. She spotted the information booth off to one side of the floor and made a bee-line for it. “Excuse me,” she put on her best dithery old lady voice, “I’ve had such a wonderful time looking at all these old cars that I’d like to thank the manager in person. Could you direct me to where I could find Mr. Deebs, please?”
The people packing up the booth paused long enough to point Georgie to a small trailer located outside the main convention center. The trailer’s door was open even though it was still well over eighty-five degrees today.
“What are you going to say?” Aleta asked as they got closer to the trailer.
“I don’t know. Sorry the show wasn’t so great?”
“Why don’t you let me handle this one.”
“Fine.” Georgie let Aleta take the lead and clasped her hands in front of her as she watched her sister rap on the aluminum door of the trailer.
“Yeah!” Came a gruff voice.
“Mr. Deebs?”
The same man Georgie had seen talking with the group came to the door and loomed over the threshold. He had removed his blue tie, and his shirt was open at the top. “I’m Brock Deebs.”
“Mr. Deebs, my name is Aleta Kaye. This is my sister, Georgie. She was a model for some of the cars that were highlighted yesterday. We both just wanted to offer our sincerest condolences about...”
“You what?” He growled, interrupting her abruptly.
“We just wanted to say we were sorry about the unfortunate incident that happened...”
“What incident?”
“Uhm, Hera Packard’s passing...” Aleta got out before she was interrupted again.
“You think you’re funny?”
“Excuse me?” Aleta looked indignant.
“Look, I have answered all the questions I’m going to answer about that situation. I don’t know what you two think you are doing, trying to insinuate...”
“Insinuate?” It was Aleta’s turn to interrupt. “No, Mr. Deebs. You have it all wrong. We just felt terrible about what happened and wanted to...to...” Aleta looked at Georgie who was stunned into silence.
“I’m not responsible for every vendor. I can’t help it if some woman wants to overdose with sleeping pills.”
“Who said she overdosed with sleeping pills?” G
eorgie stepped up and asked, instantly regretting her move.
“Neither one of you belong here. The show is over. You have ten minutes to find your car and get off the property before I call the cops, and have you escorted off the grounds. If I see you around here again, I won’t hesitate to call the police.” He wrapped his strong hand around the latch that was the door handle and slammed the door shut. For a second, the Kaye sisters were sure the place was going to topple off its cinder blocks.
Chapter 9
“What in the world just happened?” Aleta stepped away from the door as if it was suddenly giving off intense heat.
“That’s why I do most of the talking,” Georgie teased.
“Do I offend?” Aleta sniffed at her shoulder.
“Apparently. Let’s get out of here.”
As the ladies found their way back to Pablo, they wondered about Brock Deebs’ odd behavior. Georgie said thoughtfully, “I won’t say he’s guilty, but he certainly acted like a guy who knew something he didn’t want to discuss. Too bad there wasn’t some way to get into his trailer.”
“We went that route once before, Georgie Kaye. I’m not getting down on my belly again because you want to do a B and E.”
“Listen to you with the police jargon. Do you even know what that stands for? Did they explain it on Law and Order?”
“It means breaking and entering, smarty-pants.”
“Well, that goes to show what you know, Aleta, because I didn’t break anything. I just entered those actors’ trailers. The doors were already open. You can’t honestly say those people didn’t want me in there. Who leaves the doors unlocked? People who want company, that’s who. Besides, that happened so long ago I can’t even remember the details. I can’t even be sure it was me.”
Aleta chuckled. “Mr. Deebs didn’t want any company. I didn’t expect that response at all.” Aleta cleared her throat.
“Me neither. What do you think? Suspicious?”
“Just a little.”
THE EVENING WAS LOVELY; the temperature had dropped to the high sixties and a slight breeze was coming through the kitchen window. Georgie was sitting at the table with a cup of tea and two chocolate covered turtles. They were left over from a box she received at Christmas that had found a home in her freezer. She thought about the car show and on an impulse picked up her phone, it was high time she checked with Errol about the photographs he took of her.
“Hi, Errol.” Georgie said cheerily when his answering machine picked up, “This is Georgie Kaye. I’m sorry to be calling so late. I just wanted to know if I could stop by to see the pictures you took of me tomorrow. Give me a call back when you get a chance. You’ve got my number. Thanks.” Hanging up the phone Georgie returned to her contemplation of the view outside.
“I’m listless, Bodhi.” Georgie looked down to see the flattened face of her pug staring adoringly up at her. “You know you can’t have chocolate.” Georgie took a bite of the candy and then had a sip of tea. “I don’t know what is wrong. I’d like to rest, yet I feel all on edge. This chamomile tea isn’t even helping. These turtles are delicious, though.” Bodhi grunted then sneezed.
“You’re right, as usual.” Georgie look down at her best friend, “Let’s go for a walk; a little fresh air and exercise will do us some good.” Bodhi danced in a circle as his mistress stood from the table and walked toward the front door. Standing still while Georgie strapped on his harness and attached his leash; Bodhi strutted outside with the attitude of a runway model, leading Georgie in the direction of the dog park that was about six blocks away.
“It’s a nice night outside, isn’t it?” Georgie talked to the pug as if she expected him to answer. “You look so handsome in your harness. Of course, you do. I don’t know if we’ll stop at the park.” Bodhi sneezed again. “Well, I’m just saying, if there are too many dogs, we aren’t going. You know I can’t always see where you are.” The dog looked up at Georgie then focused on the sidewalk ahead.
“It’s true. You think because you are off the leash you can run around with any dog. Some of them have ill intentions.” Bodhi yawned.
“I don’t care if you are tired of my saying it, you can never be too careful—that’s all I’m saying. And, if there are too many dogs, we aren’t going.”
The duo strolled down the sidewalk. There were lots of people out walking their dogs, some even riding bikes with their dogs running alongside. The smell of an evening barbeque filled the air and was probably the reason for the extra barking coming from the dog park. “I can tell already that the dogs are all riled up.” Georgie told the eager dog as they got closer.
Bodhi began to strain on the leash. The muscles across his chest and in his legs stood out as he dug in with each step. He was going to make an appearance at the dog park if he had to drag Georgie there. “All right. Five minutes, but not a minute longer,” Georgie said as they turned the corner to the dog park, “and no crying or backtalk when it’s time to go.”
Once inside the park with the gate securely closed behind her, Georgie unfastened Bodhi’s leash. He dashed off to introduce himself to a group of four dogs that were the only ones in the park. “From the sound of it, I thought the entire Purina Kennel Club Dog Show was here.” She wrapped the leash around her wrist and took a seat on one of the benches.
From where she was sitting Georgie saw a mutt with beautiful brown and black fur, a wild Airedale that couldn’t seem to stand still, a cocker spaniel, and some kind of terrier in the group Bodhi had joined. They all welcomed Bodhi with wagging tails and happy yips.
“I wish people acted like that when I walked in a room,” Georgie muttered. She watched Bodhi run around and took a couple of deep breaths. The visit to the fairgrounds after the car show was over had gone nowhere. That was what really bothered her. Georgie had hoped that something would pop up vindicating Marley of any wrong-doing. She couldn’t help that she got a good feeling from the guy. Come to think of it, even the judge at Ted Bundy’s murder trial said he was a likeable guy—as creepy and inappropriate as that was. Her personal feelings didn’t make a difference, only the facts. So far, Marley was still in the suspect pool because it was his car, and he and Hera were neighbors who didn’t get along.
“But he and Aleta would look cute together,” Georgie muttered to herself, realizing she talked out loud to herself a lot more than most people.
Aleta was still very pretty. Some might say handsome or classic. Marley obviously had eyes for her. Georgie knew Aleta was at least a little interested. If she weren’t, she would have no problem talking to the man. When Aleta got tongue-tied, it meant the guy had something she liked.
“She doesn’t need to marry him, just maybe get out a little. He’d probably take her anywhere she wanted to go, no matter how boring.” The two sisters didn’t just dress differently, but they both enjoyed vastly different hobbies. Georgie’s artistic interests had her at galleries and plays and concerts. Aleta, a retired accountant, had a much more calculating mind; she enjoyed the occasional lecture on history or quietly reading at the library. They dragged each other to various events, mostly Georgie dragging Aleta, where they were a united front at any sweets table.
“The girl should have more fun than just eating desserts with me,” Georgie said to the air in front of her. She kept an eye on Bodhi as he barked and ran in circles, sometimes being chased and sometimes doing the chasing. “I don’t think Marley did it. I just don’t.” Georgie continued her discussion as if Bodhi was sitting next to her instead of running in excited circles with the other dogs. “Now, I’ve got to prove it. If I encouraged a murderer to take out my sister, I would never forgive myself, and she’d never let me forget it. Neither would Stan because I know she’d tell him. She always did have a big mouth.”
After about fifteen minutes, Georgie finally stood up and called Bodhi. He ignored her. “Come on, Bodhi.” She walked up to him like he was a spoiled toddler. “I said we have to go. Tell your friends we’ll see them next time.”
Georgie waved to the dogs’ owners and left the park. “You were a very good boy,” Georgie cooed. “Such a gentleman. The way you offered yourself to that Airedale was sheer class. I’m so proud of you.”
“Proud of whom?” A male voice came from behind her, making Georgie jump. When she turned around, she smiled and felt warm all over; it was Obby.
“Hi, Obby. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.”
“I should make a confession. I was on the other side of the street and saw you so I walked over. You and Bodhi have a very unique look about you that can’t be mistaken.”
“Thank you so much. What are you doing out on this fine evening?”
“I’m actually on my way to the grocery store. You have a lovely bodega in your neighborhood that sells a fantastic Hungarian coffee. I’ve been so busy that I find myself out of the basics I need to survive—like coffee and toilet paper. Plus, it’s a lovely night for a walk.”
Georgie laughed. Then, before she could stop herself, she did something bold.
“Obby, I saw that the School of the Art Institute’s graduating class was having their end of the year showing. I’ve always enjoyed seeing what the students create. It’s tomorrow. Would you like to go with me?” Georgie couldn’t take the words back once they tumbled out of her mouth.
“Well, Georgie, that is a wonderful invitation. I’d love to.”
“I’ll call you just to confirm. I’ll make sure I have the date and time right. I’ve been known to imagine things sometimes. Just ask Aleta. On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t ask Aleta.”
“That sounds great. I’ll pick a place for dinner if that is acceptable.”
“Sure, as long as the place serves dessert, I’m good.”
“Well, I certainly am glad I ran into the two of you. I’ll let you be on your way.” Obby reached out and took Georgie’s hand, shaking it affectionately between both of his. “Until tomorrow then.”
As Obby walked in the opposite direction, Georgie finally let out the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. “What did I just do, Bodhi?” The dog trotted happily ahead, leading Georgie back in the direction of home.