Murder at the Car Show

by Sandi Scott

  Georgie wasn’t sure what came over her. She wanted to go on a date with Obby. It was foolish to pretend they didn’t have things in common. Still, Stan was always there in her mind, floating around on the perimeter of her thoughts. “We are divorced,” she muttered. “I can do what I want. It doesn’t mean that I don’t care about him. It just means that I’m widening my circle of acquaintances. Besides, Obby might be able to help my painting career. He’s bound to know lots of people with pets, eccentric people who want a lovely tribute to their furry or feathery companions.”

  When she got back to her block, Georgie saw Aleta’s house was still brightly lit up. “Come on, Bodhi. Let’s see what Aleta is doing.” Without knocking, Georgie took out her key ring that included the keys to her sister’s house and let herself in.

  Chapter 10

  “What are you doing still up?” Aleta asked.

  “I’m wondering the same thing about you,” Georgie said as she took Bodhi’s leash and harness off. The dog shook his body, enjoying the feeling of freedom, before hopping up on the couch to his regular spot in the corner; within seconds, his eyes closed tightly. Only after Freckles, Aleta’s cat, slinked up on the couch next to him, did Bodhi crack open his eyes a fraction. By the time Georgie was seated at the kitchen table, both animals were sound asleep.

  “I’ve just got this thing on my mind—” Aleta sighed, “Marley Gillibrand.”

  “What about him?” Georgie asked. She could tell by her sister’s tone of voice that now wasn’t the time to tease her.

  “I like Marley. He was very pleasant when I was at his house, not at all what I thought he was like when I first saw him. He’s quite intelligent and gets to do what he loves for a living.”

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is just the little issue of a dead Hera Packard, his neighbor, in his vintage car. That’s all, really.” Aleta frowned.

  “I like him, too.” Georgie patted her sister’s hand before getting up and going to her pantry. Inside she found the giant black and brown raccoon cookie jar on the shelf. Hoisting it into her hands, she brought it to the kitchen table.

  “What is your opinion of Hera being in his car? He didn’t say a word about that.”

  “Look, maybe Marley thought it best not to say anything because he’s innocent and doesn’t want anyone to misunderstand his words or actions. Maybe he was so surprised to see you, he just didn’t think about her being found dead in his car. I don’t know.”

  “Do you think he had something to do with her death?”

  “I can’t say, Aleta. I hope not.” Georgie patted her hand. “I’m going to go take a look at my pictures tomorrow if Errol gets back to me.”

  “I can’t wait to see them.” Aleta reached into the cookie jar and pulled out a huge oatmeal raisin cookie.

  “Did you make these?” Georgie asked. Aleta nodded as she took a big bite.

  “They look fantastic. You know who has great oatmeal raisin cookies? Third Coast Café.”

  “Yesh.” Aleta agreed with her mouth full, nodding her head. “They are sho moisht.” Georgie nodded her head, in agreement as she took her own cookie.

  “Want some coffee?” Aleta asked.

  “What the heck, I’m not going to sleep for a while.”

  “How come?”

  “Because I have to tell you all about how I asked Obby out on a date.”

  “You did what?” Aleta’s eyes widened. “Wait. Don’t say anything until the coffee is brewed, and we each have a cup.” Georgie waited and then the sisters talked until after midnight.

  GEORGIE LOOKED AT HER watch, it was a little past ten o’clock in the morning. Errol had returned her call first thing in the morning and asked her to meet him at Perks Café, so she was excited for two reasons: one, she was going to finally see her pictures from the car show, and two, Perks had a fabulous lemon tart that melted in her mouth like butter. Now she was enjoying the dainty delectable with a glass of milk while she waited. When Errol finally showed up, he was all smiles, carrying his laptop.

  “I’m sorry I’m late.” Errol gave Georgie a peck on the cheek.

  “It’s quite all right,” Georgie said swallowing down a mouthful of tart. “Have you ever tried the lemon tarts served here? They are wonderful.”

  “Can’t say that I have,” Errol answered as he scooted his seat closer to Georgie and popped open his computer. “Now, I knew you were going to be a good subject for my photos, but I never imagined they would turn out like this!”

  Georgie was amazed. “I look like a totally different person!” she gasped. Through the magic of computer graphics, Georgie saw herself in amazing colors, in poses that were made to appear symmetrically perfect. Half dozen of the pictures were done in black and white and looked like they were right out of a 1950’s high school yearbook.

  “You were made to do this kind of show,” Errol said. “I swear, next year I’ve got to schedule you to do this again. I think half the people at the car show will be expecting you.”

  “I’d love to do it—if there is another show.”

  “What do you mean?” Errol asked.

  “Well, sometimes an unexplained death can put a damper on things. Especially if it’s ruled a murder.” Georgie looked at the computer, but she was watching Errol’s expression out of the corner of her eye. He swallowed hard.

  “Did the police interview you?” Georgie asked innocently.

  “I don’t recall,” Errol said, his eyes staring at the computer screen but not really seeing anything.

  “My ex-husband is the detective on the case—Stan Toon. Did you talk to him? He’s a handsome guy with wavy salt and pepper hair, always wearing blue jeans. Looks like he could be a cowboy if he were maybe a couple inches taller.” Georgie laughed at her description of Stan, but Errol didn’t even crack a smile.

  “Did you talk to him?” Georgie asked again.

  “I think I might have.”

  “Did he ask you anything about taking my picture? He knew I was going to do it and thought my outfit was a little too form-fitting. Can you believe that?” Georgie continued to watch Errol as she spoke. “Worrying about me having my picture taken. Who does that?”

  “Funny you should ask,” Errol stammered. “I...I told the police I had met Hera a few days earlier—”

  “Did you really?” Georgie interrupted eagerly.

  “—because of a major misunderstanding.” Errol looked around the café then his eyes focused intently on the computer screen. “I was at the park taking pictures.”

  “Pictures of what?” Georgie asked suspiciously.

  “See, that’s exactly what Hera thought. I was taking pictures of the sculptures with the trees behind them. The problem is that they are not far from a kiddie playground.”

  Georgie sat back. If there was one thing that was suspicious, it was a man with a camera near a playground. “I don’t understand.” Georgie looked blankly at Errol waiting for him to continue.

  “Hera thought I was taking pictures of the kids, but I wasn’t—I swear I wasn’t. I just liked the sculptures and statues with the backdrop of the trees behind them.” Errol shifted in his seat. “She came stomping up to me asking me what I was doing taking pictures of the little kids.”

  Georgie nodded her head, letting Errol talk without interrupting. “I told Hera I wasn’t taking pictures of the kids. I told her what I just told you, but she didn’t believe me.”

  “Did you show Hera the photos? So that she could see that there were no pictures of children on them?” Georgie was starting to feel a weird tingling in her stomach.

  “I tried, but she didn’t want to see them. Hera told me to stay where I was because she was going to call the police.” Errol pulled at the tip of his nose nervously. “I didn’t want to deal with her or the police. Quite frankly, I was starting to feel scared for my own safety.”

  Georgie nodded but couldn’t quite wrap her head around a grown man in healthy shape like Errol fe
eling threatened by Hera who was half his size and a smoker.

  “So, I didn’t wait for her or the police. I just grabbed my stuff and left. Here...” Errol tapped a few keys on his computer and quickly different photographs filled the screen, “...these are the pictures I took at the park. See, harmless. No kids...not even one!”

  “You told the police all this when you talked to them? After they found Hera’s body?” Georgie looked at the photos of the park. They were beautiful. Errol was obviously telling the truth about his encounter with Hera.

  “Yeah,” Errol sighed. “When I saw her at the car show, I was embarrassed. You know how some people can be. If they think they can get their name in the paper or snag that fifteen minutes of fame, they’ll do anything. I didn’t know if Hera was that kind of person or not. I didn’t wait around to find out.”

  Georgie nodded as if she completely understood, but she couldn’t help feeling like she wished she hadn’t done the photos with him. She also felt certain she wouldn’t be participating in the car show next year.

  “An accusation like that could ruin my reputation.” Errol looked at Georgie, nodding his head. “I could lose my job, my clients, my livelihood all because of a hysterical woman who watched one too many episodes of To Catch a Predator. I wasn’t willing to take that risk. So, I laid low and kept my distance from her.”

  Errol had a point. There were people who thought they were do-gooders but ended up causing more harm than good. Hera thought she saw something, but from the look of his portfolio, Errol didn’t take pictures of children.

  At that moment, Errol folded up his laptop abruptly. “I’ve got to get going,” he said. “I’ll send you a link in an email and you can tell me what pictures, and how many, you want. Talk to you later, Georgie.” Before she could reply, Errol was out the door.

  “That was an odd turn of events,” Georgie said. With her clutch purse in her hand, she also left the café, but she hadn’t taken two steps before hearing someone call her name.

  “Just the woman I was seeking!” Stan arched his right eyebrow at Georgie and flashed her the devious grin she had fallen in love with when they were teenagers.

  “What are you doing around here?” Georgie asked, hoping he hadn’t seen her with Errol. She didn’t want to explain herself.

  “I was coming to check on you. Aleta said you were going to see your photos from the car show. I was hoping I might be able to put in an order for a poster size of that one with you by the old Camaro.” He clicked his tongue then whistled.

  “Is any of my business my own?”

  “Not with Aleta as your sister.” Stan laughed.

  “Stan, I have to get going if you don’t mind.”

  “There was one other thing I wanted to discuss with you—Hera Packard.”

  “Who?” Georgie batted her eyelashes and looked inquiring.

  “You know what I’m talking about Georgie. Are you looking into this? I hope the answer is ‘no.’”

  “Of course, it’s ‘no.’ I’ve got more important things to do than solve a murder for you, Stan.”

  “Yeah? Like what?” Stan stepped closer. Georgie could smell his cologne. It did smell wonderful and when he went a day without shaving like he obviously had, he looked just a little wild.

  “I have a date to get ready for.” Georgie said flatly.

  “Really? With whom?”

  “That’s none of your business.’ Georgie huffed indignantly, “Goodbye, Stan.”

  Chapter 11

  “I’m so glad you invited me to this, Georgie. I had no idea the students had their own showing this time of year,” Obby said as he strolled across the hardwood floor. The School of the Art Institute of Chicago graduate student exhibit was featured in the main gallery. The walls were stark white with tall ceilings. The patrons attending the exhibit talked excitedly about the pieces. The students could easily be picked out as they were the ones dressed in goth or grunge style.

  “Isn’t it good to see these young men and women expressing themselves so freely?” Georgie gestured extravagantly. “I’m not saying they will all turn out to be masters, but they will undoubtedly add variety to their own lives.”

  “I agree, but don’t you sometimes wish to see just a lovely still life or maybe a nude from one of these students that pays homage to the great masters? So often I think they feel they must be weird to get noticed.”

  “True and yes, I could never tire of studying The Creation of Man. But, I could also spend hours looking at the Norman Rockwell of the kids playing marbles. That one reminds me of my boys and daughter when they were little.” For a moment Georgie was quiet, reflecting on her children’s early years.

  “Well, if you’re up to it, I made one more reservation for the evening. Care to work off that Italian dinner?”

  “That sounds like an indecent proposal.” Georgie folded her arms, eyes sparkling. “I’m in.” Before Georgie knew where she was headed, she and Obby were in a cab and pulling up in front of a place called Tito’s Dinner and Dancing.

  “I thought we could cut a rug and maybe I’ll sip some champagne from your slipper.” Obby offered his arm which Georgie took as naturally as if she was with Aleta.

  “Okay, but my salsa dancing is a little rusty.”

  The club was full of young and old people of various nationalities and cultures. Obby shook hands with the bartender, an olive-skinned man with slicked back hair and a giant gold crucifix around his neck. The music seemed to have a life of its own as drums and trumpets blasted in a lively beat, making it hard for diners to stay in their seats. The smell of hot peppers and spices made Georgie’s mouth water. Without waiting, Obby took her by the hand and led her to the dance floor.

  “Ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.” Georgie smiled and let Obby slip his arm around her waist. They finally called it a night just past eleven o’clock. The conversation in the car was mostly chatting about the styles and abilities of the other dancers, but when it got quiet, Obby put his hand on Georgie’s; she didn’t pull away. Soon, they were to Georgie’s bungalow; like a gentleman, Obby walked Georgie to her front door. She was sure he could hear her heart pounding in her chest, but she tried to stay calm. “I had a wonderful time, Obby,” she smiled up at him, “thank you so much for taking me.”

  “Surprisingly, I did too,” Obby teased. “I’m glad you invited me. I don’t think we should wait so long to do it again.”

  “I agree.” Georgie put out her hand to shake. Obby took it, squeezed it firmly then pulled her to him for a sweet kiss on the lips. Georgie froze. Oh, what do I do now? Kiss him back? Did I just do that? Why not, it’s a perfectly normal response? I’m just not sure. What will Stan say? Georgie’s mind was in a whirl as Obby released her hand.

  “Good night, Georgie Kaye.”

  “Good night, Obby.”

  As soon as the tail lights of Obby’s Smart Fortwo were out of sight, Georgie dashed over to Aleta’s house. The antique light with the fringe around the edge was on so Aleta was still up. Using her key again, Georgie let herself into the house.

  “What took you so long?” Aleta barked. “I’ve been waiting.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you what, I never thought a man could have more hands than Stanley Toon did but ...”

  “Did he get fresh?”

  “No, I’m kidding.” Georgie flopped down on the couch. Her sister was sitting in an armchair with a book in her lap and a picture of her late husband William on the table next to her. “How come you have William’s picture out?”

  “I don’t know. Sometimes I talk to him.”

  Georgie felt awful. Here she was all giddy over her date, and her sister was at home feeling lonely.

  “I’m sorry, Georgie. I don’t want to rain on your parade. Tell me about your date.”

  “It can wait.” Georgie scooted closer. “Tell me about your night.”

  “It’s been ages since I thought about William. I thought I was used to him not being aroun
d, but lately, it seems like I can’t stop thinking about him.” Aleta picked up the picture and looked at it sadly. “Then two nights ago I woke up suddenly and thought he was in bed next to me. Oh, Georgie, it felt so real!”

  Georgie hugged her sister close. “It’s okay honey, that’s perfectly normal. You really loved William. I took forever to get used to Stan not being in bed with me anymore.”

  “My heart felt like it fell out of my chest when reality hit me.” Aleta pulled slightly away, and Georgie was horrified to see tears in her eyes. “What’s wrong with me, Georgie? Why am I acting like this?”

  Georgie wasn’t going to play therapist, but deep down she thought that Mr. Marley Gillibrand had maybe startled something awake in her sister. Every woman likes to be told nice things. Georgie was sure she’d never get tired of Stan’s ogling and, after tonight, she couldn’t help but look forward to the next adventure with Obby. Aleta had never been the kind of woman to seek out male attention, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like it occasionally. Marley had made it clear he liked what he saw in Aleta. Georgie wondered to herself how Aleta would feel if he were responsible for Hera’s death?

  “You know, once we get this thing with Hera Packard finished, I bet you’ll feel better. Things will be clear, one way or another.”

  Aleta knew her sister understood how she was feeling without teasing or trivializing. She hadn’t had an interest in anyone until she met Marley.

  “You know, Aleta, William was a good guy. You know he’d want you to be happy.” Her eyes still moist, Aleta squeezed Georgie’s hand and nodded her head.

  “WATERMARK STAFFING,” said Georgie as she studied the booklet that she had grabbed at the car show, “is who supplied the people who worked in the booths, took the tickets, distributed badges, orchestrated the parking logistics, and all that jazz.” Georgie pursed her lips. “That’s where I’m heading. Bodhi, I need you to keep an eye on Aleta. She needs a little cheering up, and who better to do that than the cutest pug on the planet?” Bodhi looked up from his water bowl, sneezed and went back to getting a drink.