Janet McNulty - Mellow Summers 03 - An Apple a Day Keeps Murder Away

by Janet McNulty

  Moments later she came out into the entranceway with that colorful band on her arm indicating that she had donated blood. “Is it that hard to stick a needle in someone’ arm without causing intense pain?” demanded Aunt Ethel. “And I swear you took more than the legal two pints.”

  “Aunt Ethel,” I said wanting to get her out of there before they had us arrested for causing a public disturbance.

  “Oh hush, darling, these people have no idea what they are doing.”

  Yep, now things started to get out of hand. I walked over to her and took her purse. “We’re leaving,” I said firmly.

  I headed out the door without looking back. My aunt followed after me torn between chewing out the nurses and yelling at me for being impertinent. I didn’t care if she was upset. The last thing I needed was to be arrested on account of her. Besides, I had gotten what I had originally come for.

  “Mellow dear,” said my aunt as she chased after me on the sidewalk, “What’s going on? You’ve never been this forceful before.”

  I kept walking as she and Jackie followed. “You didn’t need to be so rude,” I said. I don’t know why I was irritated at her. She did what I needed her to do without even being asked. But my Aunt Ethel had a way of getting on people’s nerves, including mine.

  “I wasn’t trying to be rude,” said Aunt Ethel, “I was simply informing them—”

  “How to properly do their jobs. Yes, I know,” I yelled. “That’s what you always do. You tell other people how to live. How to do this. How to do that. Can’t you ever just keep your mouth shut for a change?”

  “Mel,” said Jackie trying to calm me down. But I didn’t want to calm down. The last several days had been nothing but a roller coaster. I go missing for two days and have no memory of what happened. Mr. Harrow was convinced that I had killed someone and wanted me behind bars. No one knew what had happened to me. I was no nearer to discovering the truth and clearing my name.

  “Oh shut up, both of you.” Immediately, I felt guilty for my outburst. “I can’t do this anymore. Everyone keeps asking me what happened when I was gone. I can’t remember no matter what I try. And now the cops want me for murder.”

  “Murder?” Aunt Ethel’s voice had taken on that stunned, silent quality. “Mellow, what are you talking about?”

  Well, that was it. I had inadvertently let my secret out. The one thing I didn’t want my aunt to know. “Nothing,” I said giving her back her purse.

  “No, it’s not nothing,” Aunt Ethel persisted. “You are genuinely upset. What’s wrong?”

  My aunt’s concerned expression loaded on the guilt for my outburst. “I don’t know. It’s all…It’s so messed up.”

  Jackie stepped in and continued where I left off. “Mel had been missing for two days before you arrived. She turned up in a motel in a not so nice part of town.”

  “Disappeared?” quizzed Aunt Ethel. “Where did you go?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied.

  “Mel doesn’t remember,” said Jackie, “She’s been trying but nothing comes. But she was found covered in blood and with a knife in her hand. Mr. Harrow, the District Attorney, is convinced that she murdered someone and hid the body somewhere. Her lawyer got her out of jail for now. But if a body shows up, she’s going back on a murder charge.”

  If my situation looked grim before, Jackie just made it look worse. She didn’t mean too. She was only telling my aunt the truth. About time it came, I guess. I had no idea how much longer I could have hidden it. Though, telling my aunt the truth did have its drawbacks.

  “This is preposterous,” yelled my aunt. “Of course Mellow didn’t kill anyone. She’s too nice. She’d never do it.” Her shouting earned her a few odd looks from people walking past. Others hurried by when she uttered the word “kill”.

  “We’re going straight to that Mr. Harrow’s office right now,” continued Aunt Ethel.

  “Aunt—no,” I said. “That’s not a good idea.”

  “But you are innocent,” said my aunt. “Now where is his office?”

  “Check the county courthouse,” said Rachel as she materialized. My aunt heard her voice, but couldn’t see her so she attributed it to Jackie.

  “Come along, Mellow,” she said pulling me along with her. We went to the local courthouse, which wasn’t far. My aunt led the way leaving Jackie and I little choice but to follow.

  I tried to prevent my aunt from storming into the courthouse. For an old lady she had a grip. Her hand held onto my arm as she dragged me inside, up the stairs, and to Mr. Harrow’s office. I suddenly wished she hadn’t known how to read a directory. He might as well have painted a sign that read, “Come beat me up.”

  “Aunt Ethel, I really think this is a bad idea,” I said.

  “Nonsense,” said Aunt Ethel. “No one accuses my Mellow of murder and gets away with it.”

  Her Mellow? That was a new one. In all the years I had known my aunt, not once did she use the term my Mellow. Her sudden overprotectiveness unnerved me.

  Aunt Ethel found Mr. Harrow’s office with ease with Jackie and me in tow. Rachel followed behind laughing her butt off. To her the entire incident was hysterical and entertaining. We must have looked like a montage group of misfits out for blood.

  Aunt Ethel charged into Mr. Harrow’s office with a determined look on her face.

  “What is the meaning of this?” He dropped a folder from his hands. The annoyance in his voice was unmistakable.

  “What do you mean accusing my niece of murder?”

  We must have been quite the sight with Jackie trying to pretend she didn’t exist, a red faced old lady, and me desperately trying to get away. My aunt finally released my arm. I rubbed it furiously to restart the blood flow.

  “Miss Summers,” said Mr. Harrow recognizing me, “Did you bring your aunt to do your dirty work? I thought you had a lawyer for that.”

  A loud smack filled the room. Mr. Harrow clutched a hand to his face where a red mark now rested.

  “How dare you speak to her and me like that,” shouted my aunt. This was a side of her I had never seen before. “Mellow could not hurt a fly and for you to accuse her of murder is ridiculous. Why aren’t you or the police trying to find out what happened to her when she was missing?”

  “Your niece was found covered in blood. A lot of blood. And she seems to have conveniently lost her memory,” replied Mr. Harrow.

  “There is nothing convenient about memory loss,” said Aunt Ethel.

  “Miss—”

  “Mrs. Wimsy.”

  “Mrs. Wimsy,” continued Mr. Harrow, “I suggest you leave and save your comments for your lawyer.”

  “Did I ever mention how much that guy gets on my nerves?” said Rachel so that only I could hear her.

  “Rachel, why did you tell her where to find him?” I asked.

  “Because I thought it would be interesting. Besides, you might want your aunt on your side.”

  “But she smacked him.”

  “Great wasn’t it?” Rachel chuckled to herself.

  “You can’t keep doing things like this. It isn’t exactly going to help my case.”

  “You’re right about that,” said Mr. Harrow. He and my aunt both stared at me like I was nuts.

  I had forgotten that they couldn’t see Rachel. Only Jackie seemed uninterested since she knew about spirits.

  “If you are thinking of trying for the insanity plea,” said Mr. Harrow, “It won’t work.”

  “I—”

  “Now get out. All of you.”

  Instantly, I ran out into the hall with Jackie. Aunt Ethel chose to show more dignity. She snatched her purse, gave Mr. Harrow a sharp look, and elegantly strolled out the door.

  “Mellow dear,” said Aunt Ethel when we exited the building, “Are you all right?”

  “Why do you ask,” I said.

  She glared at me with the “you know what I mean” look.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I said.

/>   “Tell, Mellow,” insisted Aunt Ethel.

  “I can talk to ghosts,” I said.

  The expression on my aunt’s face said it all. She didn’t believe me. I couldn’t blame her. Even I found it difficult to believe at times.

  “And when did this all begin?” she asked.

  “It all started almost a year ago when Mel and I moved out here,” said Jackie.

  I shot her a look.

  “What? She wanted to know,” said Jackie.

  “And you have been talking to ghosts since?” asked my aunt.

  “Yes,” I replied. “You don’t believe me.” I stalked off.

  “Well, it is a little hard to believe,” said Aunt Ethel, “There aren’t any such things as ghosts.”

  I gave up on her. For a fleeting moment in Mr. Harrow’s office I had a new found respect for her, but now that had passed. I walked down the street in frustration.

  Jackie grabbed my arm and pulled me to a halt. She pointed at a sign that read, “Free psychic reading. Today only.”

  “We should go in there,” she said.

  Aunt Ethel pursed her lips.

  “Yeah, whatever,” I replied.

  We followed Jackie inside the small shop. I almost gasped at who greeted us. “Hello there,” said Rachel. She had decided to make herself visible to everyone and donned a gypsy outfit. She even spoke in a fake Jamaican accent.

  I bit my tongue to keep from demanding to know what she was up to.

  “Come in. Come in,” encouraged Rachel. She sat by a table with a crystal ball. The entire set up was so clichéd I didn’t know what to think.

  Jackie went over to the table unsure at first. She quickly regained her composure and took a seat. I remained standing.

  Aunt Ethel took a seat not wanting to be rude.

  “You do not believe in ghosts,” said Rachel.

  Could this get any more ridiculous?

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” said Aunt Ethel.

  “Ghosts are real.”

  Aunt Ethel scoffed.

  “They are,” insisted Rachel. She dematerialized. Aunt Ethel’s eyes grew wide in astonishment. She reappeared right next to my aunt. “They’re as real as you and me.” Then she vanished.

  I had to hand it to her. Rachel had a way of getting her point across. I didn’t know if Aunt Ethel bought it or not. She spent several minutes looking around for any proof that it was all a show. But nothing was there.

  “Well,” said Aunt Ethel conceding that she might have been wrong, “You might be telling the truth. Might.”

  That was as close as she was going to get to admitting that I was right.

  “Shall we go?” I said.

  When we left the shop I pulled Jackie aside. “You planned this didn’t you?”

  Jackie smiled devilishly. “We both did. With Aunt Ethel on board, maybe she can help us learn what happened to you.”

  Chapter 7

  “Where to next?” asked Jackie.

  “The police station,” replied Aunt Ethel. “You said that the detective working on the case believes you are innocent. I want to speak with him.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I said.

  “Of course it is, darling,” said Aunt Ethel.

  “I am going home,” I said. I suddenly felt tired and wished to just flop on the couch with the TV remote in my hand.

  “But you can’t go home, yet,” said Aunt Ethel.

  “I am,” I said. “You and Jackie can have the car.”

  I left them on the sidewalk and called Greg. He answered on the first ring. Within moments he pulled up in his car and took me home. I must say that I think I snared a keeper when I went out with him.

  Instead of going into Jackie and I’s place, we went into his apartment. He put me on the couch with the TV guide and remote. I swear he could read my thoughts.

  “Lunch coming up,” he said.

  I flipped on the TV. Mostly, there were only soap operas on. I detested soap operas. Luckily, I found an old Western and left the TV set there.

  “Here you are, my lady,” said Greg handing me a plate full of food.

  “Carrot sticks and oatmeal,” I said. “Interesting choice.”

  “I haven’t been shopping in a while and I thought I’d leave your neighbor alone.”

  “I need to talk to Tiny about that. Poor guy is probably getting ready to move out.”

  I dug into my food as Greg and I snuggled on the couch. He had taken the rest of the day off which suited me just fine. After all that had been going on, I just wanted to relax with my boyfriend.

  Relaxation wasn’t in the cards. After about four hours of peace, Aunt Ethel burst through the door dressed in an outfit I never wanted to see her in again. Imagine an old lady wearing purple spandex with pearl earrings and a decorative scarf around her neck. Though not fat by any means, Aunt Ethel was not exactly skinny either. Her outfit illustrated every bulge and padding that she carried. She had a yoga mat under one arm and an eighties boom box under the other.

  “Aunt Ethel, what is this?” I asked.

  “Move the couch,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “Come on,” said Aunt Ethel. “No time to waste. Clear this floor.” She dropped her items and proceeded to maneuver the couch to the side of the room. Greg helped her when she started to turn red from exertion. “Oh, thank you, dear,” she said.

  Whap! Aunt Ethel unfolded her yoga mat in one swift shake and spread it on the now clear floor. She placed herself on the oversized mat. “Come on,” she said.

  Greg and I joined her.

  “Jackie!”

  My aunt’s shrill voice carried across the hall and into my apartment. Slowly, Jackie peeked into Greg’s place. She walked in with one agonizingly slow step after another. At first I wondered why she seemed embarrassed to come in. I soon learned why. She wore an outfit that matched Aunt Ethel’s. Purple spandex with daisies on it.

  Quickly, I covered my mouth to keep from bursting out laughing.

  Jackie glared at me. If looks could kill, I’d be dead. Clearly, she hated it. Aunt Ethel had to be the only reason why she wore it.

  “Oh, come in, Jackie,” quipped my aunt.

  Jackie took her spot in the room. I elbowed Greg before he could open his mouth.

  “Aunt Ethel,” I said, “What is going on here?”

  “Meditative yoga,” she replied. “This might help you with your amnesia.”

  “I really—”

  “Come on,” interrupted my aunt, “Arms up. Stretch high and touch your toes.”

  My back cracked as I bent over. Instantly, I realized how out of shape I had gotten. Aunt Ethel had no difficulty touching her red painted toes. I barely made it past my knees. Jackie and Greg didn’t fare any better.

  “I am never shopping with your aunt again,” Jackie whispered to me.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “We got thrown out of the police station when she marched in there and chewed out Detective Shorts. Then she got caught going through their files. Afterward, she took me shopping saying that you wanted us to bond.”

  A guilty expression must have crossed my face because Jackie grew irritated.

  “You did tell her that, didn’t you,” said Jackie.

  “I only told her that I wanted her to be nice to you,” I said.

  “I am so going to get you for this,” hissed Jackie.

  “No talking,” interrupted Aunt Ethel. “You should all be meditating. Especially you, Mellow dear.”

  Once again, I attempted to reach my toes. No success. How pathetic could I get? Out done by an old lady.

  “You are much too tense, dear,” said Aunt Ethel. She moved over to me and put her arms around my shoulders grasping them. “You need to be more flexible. Try this.”

  Next thing I knew, Aunt Ethel swung me in a direction and I felt a searing pain in my side. I could have sworn I had not only pulled something, but probably threw something as well. />
  “We’ll have to work on your flexibility,” said Aunt Ethel leaving me alone.

  Rachel’s cackling filled my ears. She sat poised on Greg’s entertainment set making certain that only I could hear her. I glowered at her.

  Unfortunately, I never achieved a meditative state. If anything, all I achieved was a bunch of aches and pains. Twenty minutes later, I felt like I had been hit by a truck and then forced into a pretzel position.

  “That will do for now,” said Aunt Ethel ending the yoga session. “Anything?”

  I shook my head at her.

  Aunt Ethel’s expression fell. She had thought her plan would work. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to move to plan B.”

  Plan B? This was plan A? There better not be a plan C.

  “And what is plan B?” I asked her.

  “Let me change and I will meet you at the car,” she replied, “I’m driving.”

  At those words Jackie snatched Greg and pulled him from the room. “We’re going to go do some snooping on our own. We’ll let you know if we find anything.”

  “But—,” began Greg.

  “You don’t want to be in the car with that woman driving,” Jackie hissed in his ear as she hauled him out of his own apartment.

  Stuck once more with my aunt.

  “That was a stop sign,” I screamed at my aunt as we careened down the road at 50 mph.

  “Was it? I hardly noticed.”

  For the past hour we had been driving around town. Well, mostly my aunt had been plowing the missile of a car wherever she pleased while I hung on for dear life.

  We had started at the blood bank, since that was where we had first taken her. Then we drove down every side street in town. Aunt Ethel had made a map of places she thought I might have gone to during my disappearance, ending at the motel where I was found. There was no logic to her assessments. At least, it was only logical to her.

  She had drawn everything on a piece a paper. When she handed it to me, I took one quick glance, crumpled it up and tossed it in the back seat. The entire piece of paper was nothing more than a jumble of lines and words in her horribly small handwriting.

  “Stop light,” I yelled. I tightened the seat belt in what could very well be my coffin.