March Street Mayhem
Page 6
“Maybe you could do that thing where you make it bigger with your thumbs,” Grandma Iris said.
I enlarged the picture and we stared some more. The only calls on the night of the bingo jubilee were outgoing. To the Marchville Café. And to 911.
I slumped back in the vinyl kitchen chair. I’d gotten it wrong again. And I’d broken into someone’s home to do so.
“Let’s get some shut eye,” Grandma Iris suggested. “Things will look brighter in the morning, morning glory.”
I slept soundly, dreaming of the bingo jubilee, drawing face after face while serving a river of coffee. Fremont’s voice called the game, while he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up, I knew I had to talk to Fremont again.
I had the lunch shift at the café, which meant I had to do my thinking while serving customers.
During a break, I went to the phone in the kitchen. Someone before my time had laminated a local business directory and taped it to the wall by the phone. I scanned down the list and found the number for the bed and breakfast.
“Hello, Garden Rose, how may I help you this lovely day?”
“Is Fremont Cunningham still there?”
“One moment.”
I held my breath and waited.
“This is Fremont.”
“Oh thank goodness. Could you come to the March Street Café?”
I was relieved when he agreed to come right over. When he got there, I put the day’s lunch special on the table in front of him and explained what I was thinking.
“Yes, I suppose I can come to the meeting tonight, if you think it will be important.”
“With your help, I think we can catch a murderer.”
He twinkled a celebrity smile at me. I hoped my plan would work.
The bingo society meeting was held in the bingo hall. Along with Grandma Iris and the rest of the committee, I was there with Fremont, and Nicole brought Maxwell.
Shirley picked up her gavel to begin the meeting. She looked very comfortable with a gavel in her bony hand. Nancy gazed at her worshipfully.
When it was time for new business, Grandma Iris introduced Nicole, who proposed the online fundraising page. Her proposal brightened the glum mood in the room. After a lively discussion, it was agreed that she would set up the page.
I shared a smile with Grandma Iris and nodded at Maxwell, who was beaming with pride in his fiancée. They were a good match.
When Shirley picked up her gavel to end the meeting, I jumped to my feet.
“May I have your attention? Before we go, I have something to say.”
Shirley scowled at me. “What is it?”
“I believe you all know Mr. Fremont Cunningham. The genuine article, this time.”
Fremont stood up and gave the group a cordial nod.
“He was late for our bingo jubilee after someone stole his phone and tampered with his car.”
Maxwell frowned.
“But he called from the tow truck to let us know he’d be late.”
“This is nonsense,” Nancy snapped. “Shirley, gavel the meeting, we’ve got our fundraising solution.”
“Let’s hear Kelly out,” Maxwell said in his official voice.
“Thank you. When Mr. Cunningham told me he’d called, I was surprised, because I know how conscientious Shirley is. She would never have let an impostor go on stage in his place.”
Shirley sighed impatiently. “Of course not.”
“Are you suggesting that Mr. Cunningham is a liar?” Grandma Iris piped up.
“No, of course not. He probably called the wrong number. He was upset. He said himself his phone was stolen and he was calling from a tow truck.”
I smiled at Shirley. “That’s a good point.”
She nodded.
I turned to Fremont and handed him my phone. “Mr. Cunningham, would you please dial the contact number you have for our bingo society?”
He made a show of taking the folded slip of paper out of his wallet and dialing it into my phone. We all waited a moment, and then a ring tone sounded in the room.
Nancy’s face went bright red and she grabbed the phone out of her purse and stabbed at the button to silence it.
“Nancy?” Shirley said, looking confused. “How would he have your number? Mine were the only contact numbers we gave him.”
“She has your phone and you have hers. Do you remember the other morning, when your phones got mixed up? You had Grandma Iris’s phone, and we thought that meant she had yours. But really, she had Nancy’s phone, and Nancy had yours.
“Do you remember when she received a phone call while you were on stage starting the jubilee? That was Mr. Cunningham. She knew the man on stage was a fraud.”
“Why didn’t she stop the game?” a committee member asked.
“I tried to tell you,” Nancy whined, turning with pleading eyes to her friend.
“That’s right. But Shirley brushed her off. But Nancy couldn’t just let it go. So she went to confront the fake Cunningham herself. I believe she witnessed him putting a bundle of fake bills in place of the stolen prize money. His partner had already made off with the real money. She used the nearest weapon at hand, her dog’s leash, and killed him.”
Shock written on her face, Shirley stared to her friend. “Nancy? Is this true?”
Tears sprang to Nancy’s eyes. “I couldn’t let that nasty little Kevin Rourke do that to you. As soon as I knew he was fake, I realized why I recognized him. I remembered him from Starling High School, before the consolidation. I had him in class three years. He was never any good, a trouble-maker from the start. Always trying to get away with something.
“But I wasn’t going to let him get away with hurting you. You’re so good, so pure, so giving. Scum like that don’t deserve to be in the same room with someone like you. He got what he deserved.”
“No, Nancy, no one deserves to be murdered over money.” Sorrow cracked Shirley’s countenance.
“It didn’t even matter, anyway, with this new internet fundraising thing. I’m sorry Shirley. But I did it for you.”
Maxwell stood up. “I think we’ve heard enough. Nancy Cook, you’re under the arrest for the murder of Kevin Rourke.”
He read Nancy her rights and Shirley gaveled the meeting closed.
Nicole walked up to me, a shell-shocked look on her face. “Are the bingo society meetings always like this?”
I shrugged. “I’m not actually member, my Grandma Iris is. I’m sure they’d love for you to join, though.”
“I think I will.” She shook my hand and walked away.
I turned and found Grandma Iris at my side.
“Can you believe that?” she said. “I guess I was wrong.”
“About what?”
“Here I thought Shirley Morris was the least likeable person in the world, but someone went and killed for her. I guess it goes to show, it takes all kinds.”
END
Author’s note
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story. Before you go, would you let me know what you thought of the book by leaving a review? It can be long or short, positive or negative, just as long as it’s your honest opinion. Thanks! (Click on this link to go to the book page: https://books2read.com/u/boE2oZ)
Books by Estelle Richards
Lisa Chance Cozy Mysteries
Last Chance for Murder
Shooting on Location
Killer Campaign
March Street Cozy Mysteries
March Street Murder
March Street Mayhem
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About the author
Estelle Richards writes cozy mystery. Her first series was the Lisa Chance Cozy Mysteries.
March Street Mayhem is the second book in a new series of short cozy mysterie
s.