Stacy Matthews - Dear Mary 01 - Think Twice Before You Order

by Stacy Matthews

  Charlie wanted to take his car, so we headed out to the driveway. I opened the front door and there sat his pride and joy. A candy apple red 1965 Ford Mustang, completely rehabbed inside and out. He had the seats, dashboard, door panels, and landau roof recovered in tan leather. He was so excited to show me everything he had done; he was like a little kid with a new toy. He found the car at an auction about fifteen years ago but never really worked on it until after his wife died. I think it helped him work through a lot of his grief. I was hoping he would let me drive, but no such luck. We jumped in and headed towards Dr. Niemeyer’s office on the Plaza. It’s about half an hour from the house. Silly me thought Charlie might let me drive part of the way so I could see for myself how well she handled, then he could take over before we got to the Plaza. Charlie said he really didn’t like anyone else driving his car.

  He also apparently doesn’t like silence in the car. I learned quite a bit about the Plaza. It was designed by a man named J.C. Nichols, who was a developer in the area back in the early nineteen hundreds. When the Plaza was first developed it was a small shopping area with a few stores. It resembled a small Italian village with its stucco buildings and red tile roofs. Now it is fifteen blocks of the most expensive shops, restaurants, and office space in town.

  If you think of the fifteen blocks as a square, the roads that make the outline of the square are the only roads that have any stoplights. There are no stop signs or stoplights on any of the streets inside of the square, and the pedestrians have the right of way. It’s quaint and still a very popular place to shop in the Kansas City area. There are numerous hotels, homes and lofts that outline the square. They have a lighting ceremony every Thanksgiving Day Night that kicks off the holiday season and it has gained national attention. Literally hundreds of thousands of people turn out for it every year. It is quite impressive.

  We were lucky and found a parking spot in front of Dr. Niemeyer’s office. We took the elevator to the second floor and went left down the hallway. His office was much smaller than I imagined and very plain. Maybe it’s just me but when I think of a counselor’s office I imagine it to be cozy and homey; lots of overstuffed furniture and books, things that would make you feel comfortable enough to tell someone your problems. This office was small and impersonal, almost institutional looking. There were two straight-back chairs and a table with a few magazines on it, and straight in front of that is the counter where the receptionist sat.

  When Charlie and I walked in, there was no one in the waiting room, and the receptionist was on the phone. We casually looked around as we waited for her to get off the phone. I did notice that she didn’t take her eyes off us from the minute we walked in the door. She was a stern-looking woman. She had dark hair that was pulled back in a tight bun. I wouldn’t call it a uniform that she had on, but if that was an outfit there’s a lot of room for improvement. “Can I help you?” I couldn’t help but notice that she sounded a lot like that cartoon character Natasha that said “Moose and Squirrel.” I was going to ask her to say Moose and Squirrel, but she didn’t look like she had a sense of humor. I introduced myself and told her I was looking for my grandfather and Tatiana. She looked at me with a blank face, almost as if she was looking through me and not at me. She finally said patient information is confidential. I reiterated that I didn’t want patient information; I wanted to know if they knew where Grandpa and Tatiana might be. She said she would have to check with the doctor, and disappeared down the hall. I think she walked around the corner and stood there, but what do I know? She returned in less than a minute. She said she had checked Tatiana’s file and the only family listed was Mr. Graham. They only keep information on the patient’s immediate family. She also checked with the doctor, but he had no idea where they might be. That was the only information she was going to be able to give us and that was probably too much.

  How could telling us if the knew where Grandpa and Tatiana were violate patient confidentiality? Grandpa and Tatiana had supposedly been spending so much time with the doctor I found it hard to believe they had no idea where they might be. Charlie assumed Grandpa had told Tatiana about me, but now he wasn’t sure. It ran across my mind that I should tell this Natasha knock-off how rude she was, and if she hadn’t been so scary looking, I would have. Charlie grabbed my arm and headed towards the door. I couldn’t tell what Charlie was cooking up, but I thought for sure it was going to involve going back into that office. I brought to his attention that I thought Natasha could beat the crap out of me. He assured me that we weren’t going back in there, at least not while anyone was there.

  Was he suggesting a break-in? Break-in sounds so against the law. I don’t have a problem doing it, I would prefer we call it something more intriguing like “Operation Moose and Squirrel.” I asked Charlie if he had been on a lot of operations. He said he had been on his share but my security clearance wasn’t high enough for any more information than that. What a funny guy.

  We went back to the car and headed towards home. He said he would get everything we needed for tonight, and he would pick me up around one o’clock. That’s in the a.m.! He told me to be dressed in black. I had to go shopping; I didn’t bring anything black. I jumped into Grandpa’s car and headed out. It was kind of nice driving around town listening to the radio. It was as if I had never left. Isn’t it funny how certain things trigger memories? Something as simple as driving around listening to your favorite station makes you feel like you’re a teenager again. The only things missing were Valerie and Stephen. I got to the store and bought everything I needed. Shirt, shoes, pants. If it was black and fit I bought it.

  I have to tell you Mary I’m very excited. I’ve never gone on an operation. I’m just praying Charlie remembers how to do this. I know it’s been a while since he’s been on one of these; I’m hoping he remembers everything that needs to be done. I wonder if he’s ever been caught before, or if he has a back-up plan in case we do get caught? I need to ask him about a backup plan. I’ll let you know how everything goes tomorrow.

  Talk to you later

  June 11th

  Dear Mary,

  Well I have to say I really thought Operation Moose and Squirrel would be a lot more exciting. I thought there would be more cloak and dagger, at the very least some sneaking around. It didn’t start off well to begin with. I decided to make some snacks and drinks to take with us. I had no idea what an “operation” consisted of but I didn’t want us to get hungry or thirsty while we were doing it.

  I heard Charlie pull into the driveway so I went to the kitchen and got the sack of snacks and drinks, and then locked up the house. You should have seen the color drain from Charlie’s face when he saw me with that sack. He did tell me he liked my outfit before he asked what was in the sack. He then explained to me the difference between an operation and a stakeout. Now I would rather do stakeouts, you get to take food with you on those. I put the food back in the house, and we made our way to the office.

  Even though it was late there were some people walking around and sitting out on the patios of the restaurants that were still open. Charlie parked by all of the other cars; I couldn’t believe it. We casually strolled down the sidewalk to the building. The front doors were locked but Charlie got us in with no problem. We took the stairs, it was only four flights and good exercise, and then into the office. We went into the back to find the files; with Charlie’s unlocking skills he was able to unlock the file cabinets in no time. I asked him why we had to dress in all black if we weren’t even going to sneak around or do any kind of spy stuff. He said it was because that was all he had clean, and he knew once I saw the way he was dressed, I would want to be dressed the same way. He thought he would save a step and tell me that’s what I had to wear, smart man.

  As we were looking for the files on Tatiana, we noticed that most of the clients were women. We both thought this was a little odd so we took out several of the files and began reading them. Charlie took photos of all the files with the smal
lest camera I have ever seen. It had to have been something he used at work, very spy like; that made me feel a little better. We couldn’t find anything on Tatiana. Nothing, not a chart, a bill, or progress notes. We made sure we put everything back as we had found it and left. We went back to the car and headed for home. I couldn’t believe it; my first operation and no one noticed anything. Now I know why people say, “I didn’t see anything” when asked about a crime that has just occurred. No one pays attention. Two people dressed completely in black strolled down the street, opened a locked office building, then an office. We went through file cabinets and took photographs, and then let ourselves out of the building. Not one person noticed, never gave us a second look.

  It was very disappointing.

  When we got back to the house it was around two thirty in the morning. There were a couple of lights still on in Mrs. Ruby’s house; enjoying one of her refreshments I’m sure. I told you she doesn’t sleep. I thought about taking a picture of her with Charlie’s little camera, but I had no idea where Charlie had put it. I went into the kitchen and got out a couple of the sandwiches I had made, along with a couple of our own refreshments. Charlie went to the computer room and did his magic. When I walked into the room he was printing out something. He had enlarged all of the files so they would be easier to read. We skimmed over the files to see if there was a common thread. There wasn’t any one thing that stood out except that most of the patients were women, and a fairly large number of them were from different countries. Now I don’t know anything about investigating people, but I thought this was odd. Remember Natasha? She’s the doctor’s wife, and most likely the woman everyone had seen and thought was Tatiana’s sister. It seems the good doctor and his wife kept meticulous records on everything except Tatiana. Including e-mails and letters from someone named Tyler Moran. All of which were in a foreign language. Charlie thought we should contact some of these patients and see if any of them would talk to us. I am getting a feeling that we have stumbled onto something much bigger than we thought.

  Other than the mystery e-mails and letters, we didn’t find anything interesting or informative in the files. They didn’t contain the smoking gun we were hoping for. Charlie went home to get some sleep; then he was going to take all of the files, e-mails and letters over to Mark’s. They are going to run everything through the data bases Mark has access to, and see if they can come up with anything on the names we did get. Then Charlie will make a list of the patients and come back later. We will try to put them in some kind of order and hope some of them will talk to us. Charlie is very persuasive; I’m sure he’ll get them to talk.

  Later

  Evening June 11th

  Dear Mary,

  Charlie called and said having the letters translated was taking a little longer than he and Mark expected. They hadn’t found any useful information on any of the names. He was putting together the list of the patient addresses. He thought it would be a good idea to rest up tonight so we could head out early in the morning. That sounded good to me, so I headed to the kitchen to find something for dinner. That’s when someone knocked at the door.

  When I looked out the window you’ll never guess who I saw, you know this never happens in New York. No one just drops by to chat. I’m starting to realize how much I miss living here, and having people in your neighborhood that actually care enough about you to check on you.

  It was Mr. and Mrs. Dixson. They live down on the next block, and Mrs. Dixson’s sister, Chub, lives a block over from the Dixson’s. You know I’ve never really thought about it until now, but I’m sure Chub isn’t her real name. Mrs. Dixson said she had seen me sidetracked every time I tried to take a walk, so she thought it would be a good idea to come up to the house instead of waiting for me to make it down to her.

  I have to explain the Dixson’s to you. I can honestly say they are one of the most unique couples I’ve ever come across. If you were the sort of person that judges people by first appearances you would never guess those two would be married.

  Up first is Mr. Dixson. He looks like a man that works hard, and he does. He spits his chew into an empty pop can, and if you can get a word out of him, you’re doing better than most of the town. He owns a small pig farm on the outskirts of town and seems to do well enough. The one thing people say about him is that he is a very fair man in business as well as his personal life. Even when business was down, he wouldn’t take a dime from Mrs. Dixson’s father; that’s just the way Mr. Dixson is.

  Now Mrs. Dixson is a completely different story. You can look at her and tell she came from money, and a lot of it. Mrs. Dixson is always dressed to the nines and looks like she stepped out of a magazine. One summer Mrs. Dixson was visiting Mrs. Kelley four houses down from my Mom and Dad’s old house. It had been cloudy, hot and humid all day, then the storm hit. The tornado sirens started going off. The Kelley’s didn’t have a basement, so Mrs. Dixson and Mrs. Kelley came over to Mom and Dad’s. Now keep in mind they both walked the same distance, but Mrs. Kelley looked like she walked through the tornado, and Mrs. Dixson didn’t have a hair out of place. It’s like she has an invisible bubble around her. I have a feeling she wakes up looking like that.

  Mrs. Dixson’s family was not pleased when she fell in love with Mr. Dixson. Her father, Bud Benson, owned the tire store in town. His plans had been to hand over the business to the man his eldest daughter married. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall when Mrs. Dixson brought Mr. Dixson home and told her parents he was Mr. Right.

  I don’t know how Chub got that name, because she is anything but chubby. Mrs. Dixson and Chub look a lot alike, but Chub has more of a model look to her. As far back as I can remember, Chub always had a lot of boyfriends, so Mrs. Dixson had to catch me up on all of the latest ones. She said for the life of her she can’t figure out why none of them had married Chub. It’s not that Chub hadn’t tried the traditional route; she has been married five times. None of them seemed to stick, so Chub resigned herself to the fact that she was meant to have boyfriends, not husbands. Chub doesn’t have any children, and the Dixson’s have one son who is the spitting image of his father. Not only does he look like his dad, he loves working with his dad, so that pretty much ruled out the grandson taking over the tire store for Mr. Benson. We talked for a little while longer, and she decided she had caught me up on everything in her world. Before they left, she asked if I had any dinner plans. When I said no, we were headed to the Dixson’s for a home cooked meal. If this keeps up, I won’t have to do any cooking the entire time I’m here.

  Mrs. Dixson made chicken fried steak, green beans, homemade biscuits, and the required taters and gravy. I swear I have gainedten pounds since I’ve gotten here.

  No wonder most of the men around here wear overalls; they buy them big so they can just grow into them. All that food has put me in a semi-coma.

  Talk to you later

  June 12th

  Dear Mary,

  Charlie was here at nine o’clock, and we had a lot of work ahead of us. We went into the kitchen to get some coffee to take with us. Charlie showed me the address list he had compiled. I asked him how exactly we were going to approach these people. He said we had to be very careful, we didn’t want them thinking we were cops. He would do most of the talking, and I could take notes. It made me feel better knowing I wasn’t going to have the chance of screwing this up. We went over the list and headed out. I really do love Charlie’s car. One of these days he going to let me drive it, I’m sure of it.

  The first house we went to was very impressive, it was huge. It was in Mission Hills, which is where a lot of wealthy people live. Looking at it from the road it looked to be about seven or eight thousand square feet. It had a stone and iron fence surrounding the entire property. From the street you could see a guesthouse about fifty yards from the main house. According to the list, the house belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Hennessey. We parked a little way down the street and walked up to the front gate. There was a call
box to the left of the gate, Charlie pushed the button, but no one answered. I was standing there minding my own business and leaned against the gate. It opened. We took a quick look up and down the street, and didn’t see anyone, so we went in. There was a very long driveway going up to the main house. I swear it was a mile to the front door. I definitely need to start walking more or eating less. I’m voting for walking more.

  We knocked on the door and rang the bell, no answer. We decided to go around to the back. There was a sunroom at one corner and an enclosed porch at the other. The back door was locked. Charlie tried looking in the windows of the main house, while I went to the guesthouse. I knocked; no one there either. Charlie said he couldn’t see much, but he could see a pile of mail on the kitchen table. About three weeks’ worth he guessed. Nothing else looked out of the ordinary, so we went back to the car. We went to two more houses in the same area. Both of those houses were similar to the first. No one home at either place. It was when we came to the fourth house on the list that the fun started. We went in the back door and stood at the kitchen counter. Then the lights went out. You’re not going to believe this next part.

  I woke up to Mrs. Houtz and Mrs. Edmonds splashing water in my face saying “Sid, wake up.” I did and had a terrible headache. I heard Charlie telling someone I was coming around, and he would be over after he got me to the ER and then home and settled. I asked what happened, and Charlie said the only thing he was sure of was that someone hit us in the head from behind. He woke up when Mrs. Houtz and Edmonds splashed water in his face. He still had his wallet and watch. He thought whoever knocked us out hadn’t been there to burglarize the house, but may have been hiding there. Charlie turned around and calmly asked Marple and Fletcher how they knew we were at that house, and if they had seen anything before they came in and found us. They looked at one another and then at Charlie. They had been back and forth to Mrs. Edmond’s house moving clothes and what not, and on one of their trips over to Mrs. Edmond’s house they saw Charlie and I leaving in his car. They had seen us leaving the night we were dressed in black and going to Dr. Niemeyer’s office. They didn’t follow us that night, but thought it would be a good idea to follow us this morning and see what we were up to. They were pretty sure it had something to do with Grandpa and Tatiana, but they wanted to find out.