Firework Fiasco

by Kathi Daley

  “I’m sure. Number fourteen.” Nona held up the key. “I have the key to room fourteen and it opened the door. Maybe the maid came in, even though I left the Do Not Disturb sign on the door. Maybe the motel manager called the cops and they came and took the body away.”

  “No,” I answered. “If the sheriff’s office was called in response to a murder this whole area would be taped off. If there actually was a dead man in this room someone else moved him, then cleaned things up.”

  “If there was a dead man in this room? Are you doubting me?”

  “You did say you were drunk enough to pass out,” I reminded Nona.

  “I may have been drunk last night, but I wasn’t drunk when I woke up this morning.”

  “Maybe you were groggy after your long night,” I suggested. “I know I’m pretty much worthless until I have my second cup of coffee. Ask Zak; he’ll tell you.”

  “I wasn’t groggy. I didn’t imagine that the man I spent the night with was dead. I’m telling you, I know what I saw. The guy was lying right here with a knife through his chest. The bed was covered with blood. His blood.”

  I pulled back the covers. “It looks fine now.”

  Nona rolled her eyes. “Obviously, someone cleaned the room and changed the sheets.”

  I wanted to believe Nona. Strike that: I didn’t want to believe Nona. I hoped with all my might that she’d been hungover and maybe a bit delirious, or perhaps age had finally caught up with her and she’d simply forgotten what she’d seen. Maybe a man had been stabbed in the movie they’d watched last night and she’d dreamed about it. Or perhaps she was making this whole thing up to get back at me for suggesting she might be getting a bit too old to go running around the country on a pink Harley.

  “I can prove it,” Nona said when I didn’t answer for a while.

  “How?”

  “We’ll go to the Elvis competition. Instead of twelve contestants, there’ll be eleven. Not only will that prove my Elvis was murdered while I slept, but we’ll be able to find out who the guy really was.”

  I supposed it couldn’t hurt to head over to the competition. Even if there was a missing Elvis, that didn’t prove he was murdered while lying two feet away from Nona, but if all the Elvises were accounted for it did suggest Nona was mistaken and no one had died. I used my phone and took as many photos of the room as I could from every angle before we left. If there was a missing Elvis the photos could provide us with a clue to help solve the case, should we at some point lose access to the room. Boy, I sure hoped Dirk had all twelve of his Elvises accounted for.

  Chapter 2

  Dirk had built a bandstand on the beach near the north end of the lake. The competition was to take place over a long weekend when all twelve contestants would be provided the opportunity to mingle with the celebrity judges and to perform individually. I was sure Dirk was looking for a spokesperson who not only looked like the King himself but was personable and an excellent performer. In my opinion, it seemed like a lot of trouble to go through for a small theme casino, but what did I know?

  I’d insisted on driving my car and had somehow persuaded Nona to leave her Harley at the Zoo. The weekend event was to kick off later that afternoon with a group production where all twelve impersonators would be introduced, giving each the opportunity to charm the crowd and the judges. Later that evening there would be a concert during which all twelve men would perform a song made famous by the real Elvis back in the day.

  “It looks like there’s an information booth over near the entrance to the bleachers,” I said after taking a minute to get the lay of the land. “Maybe they’ll have a program or something that lists all the contestants. That will help us to find out the real name of the Elvis you found dead in his bed.”

  The information booth wasn’t staffed at the moment because the introductions wouldn’t begin for another two hours, but I spotted a poster on the wall with photos of all twelve Elvises and their names and occupations.

  “That’s him.” Nona pointed to Elvis #3. “Calvin Jobs. An insurance salesman and former Elvis impersonator from Las Vegas, Nevada.” Nona glanced at me. “Somehow knowing that kills the fantasy.”

  “A man is dead, or at least according to what you think you saw, a man is dead. I think the time for fantasy is over.”

  “I know what I saw,” Nona insisted. “What do we do now?”

  “We need to find out whether Elvis #3 is alive and kicking or boots up, as you suspect. We could just wait for the introduction ceremony that’s taking place in two hours’ time, but I’m thinking maybe Ashton Falls’ new events coordinator, Hillary Spain, might have a contact that can get us the information sooner. She isn’t in charge of this event because it’s been privately planned and funded, but Dirk would have needed a permit to hold it on the beach, so I’m sure she found a way to poke her finger into the pie.”

  “I thought you were a member of that committee.”

  “I was. I took some time off when I had Catherine. I plan to return in the fall if my mom can watch her for a couple of hours every Wednesday morning.”

  I pulled out my cell and called Hillary, who was a nice-enough person, although, like Willa, the woman she replaced, she was a stickler for the rules. In the beginning I was afraid her lack of experience in our community was going to be a problem for someone who tended to wing it in those instances when she didn’t know the correct ordinance to be adhered to, but as time passed and she began to grow into her job, I could see she was going to do fine.

  “Hillary, it’s Zoe Zimmerman,” I said when she answered. “I was wondering if you had a contact in the Elvis competition.”

  “Dirk Pendleton filed for all the proper permits, but he made it clear he didn’t need any help with the organization and implementation of the show. Why do you ask?”

  “I need to track down one of the Elvises and hoped you might have someone who could help me do it.”

  “Why don’t you just ask your husband?”

  “My husband?”

  “I happen to know he met with Dirk several times in the weeks prior to the committee granting the permit to hold the competition on the beach. From what I could see, the two of them were pretty buddy-buddy.”

  Zak knew Dirk from a prior investigation, when the Easter Bunny robbed the bank, and he continued to attend event committee meetings after I’d decided to take some time off. Zak was an educated, professional, sophisticated, and extremely likable guy. I supposed it made sense that he would be the one to work with one of Hollywood’s biggest heartthrobs on behalf of the town. “I didn’t realize Zak had worked on that project. With a new baby in the house, there isn’t always time to catch up on the day-to-day details of our lives. “I’ll ask him about it. Thanks.”

  As soon I hung up, Nona began shaking her head. “No, no, no. We can’t tell Zak what’s going on.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “He might be able to help.”

  “Zak is my little buggy boo. I don’t want him to know what a mess I’ve made of things.”

  Buggy boo? I’d never in all the years I’d known Nona heard her use baby talk to communicate with or describe anyone. Maybe she really was losing it. “Okay,” I said. “We won’t tell him what’s going on for now. But if it turns out there really has been a murder we have to tell him everything.”

  Nona looked like she was going to argue.

  “Everything,” I said again.

  “Oh, okay,” Nona growled. “He’ll find out eventually anyway.” Nona’s facial expression faded from moderately angry to completely befuddled.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Elvis’s room. It was completely clean, as if no one had ever been there.”

  “That’s right,” I agreed. “I was there.”

  “Today’s the first day of the contest. The rooms for the contestants have been booked through Sunday, yet there were no personal items in that one. If I had simply dreamed the whole dead-man-in-the-bed thing and Elvis really hadn’t been mur
dered, where was his stuff? I remember he had at last three large suitcases.”

  “Good point,” I admitted. “I suppose we can ask whether he checked out or anyone checked him out.”

  “Do you think the motel manager will give you that information?”

  I shrugged. “He might. I guess it depends who’s on desk duty. We don’t have a contact to ask if Elvis #3 still plans to go on, so we might as well head back to the motel to see what we can find out there.”

  As it had before, Nona’s keycard opened the door of room fourteen. It was still immaculate and completely devoid of personal possessions. I headed to the office to see what I could find out, while Nona waited in the room. If she’d been seen in Elvis’s company the previous evening and he did turn out to have been murdered, I didn’t want to strengthen the link between them in anyone’s mind until we had the opportunity to figure this out.

  Luckily for me, the man working the counter today had been a regular at the diner my best friend Ellie Denton owned before it burned down.

  “Zoe. How have you been?” David Dugan asked.

  “I’ve been good.”

  “Heard you had a baby.”

  I nodded. “A daughter. Catherine. She’s six months old and the cutest thing you’ll ever see.”

  “I bet. I’d like to meet her sometime. ’Course, now that Ellie has a young’un of her own and doesn’t work in the restaurant business, I rarely run into either of you.”

  “Ellie and I will stop by with the babies when we’re in town sometime,” I promised. “Listen, I’m looking for the guy in room fourteen. His name is Calvin Jobs and he’s here for the Elvis impersonator competition. I stopped by his room, but it was empty. Did he check out?”

  “Nope. All twelve rooms booked by the impersonators were paid for through Monday. He might be out on the beach for the event. I can leave a message for him if you’d like.”

  “No, that’s fine. I’ll just track him down there.” I turned to go, then turned back around. “I understand some of the Elvises partied pretty hard last night. Any noise complaints?”

  David shook his head. “No. Things were pretty quiet as far as I know. My shift ended at eight, but the graveyard clerk didn’t mention any problems. I imagine if the impersonators were looking to tie one on they went to a bar. Seems like with the fireworks show everyone was in town. Did Catherine enjoy her first July Fourth celebration?”

  “She slept through the whole thing, but Ellie’s son, Eli, loved every minute of it. I can’t wait until next year when Catherine’s a little older. How old is your son now?”

  “I have a four year old and a six year old. Both kids oohed and aahed at every colorful explosion. It seems like the town really outdid itself this year.”

  “Yeah. It was an excellent show. It was good seeing you.”

  “Don’t forget to stop by with the baby.”

  “I won’t.”

  I returned to room fourteen to find Nona sitting on the edge of the bed with a look that reminded me of a lost child’s on her face. I sat down beside her and took her hand in mine. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out.”

  Nona patted my hand. “I know we will. I just feel so bad for that poor man. I just can’t imagine what could have happened that would have led to his death. And I really can’t think how I could have slept through the whole thing. If I had woken up maybe I could have helped him.”

  “Or maybe you would have ended up dead as well.” I bit my lower lip as I looked around the room. How on earth could a man have been stabbed to death without anyone hearing what was going on? The motel was fully occupied, so there must have been other guests on the premises when he was killed. You would think there would have been some sort of a ruckus, even if an attempt to protect himself had been futile. Nona said he’d been lying on the bed fully clothed, same as her. That told me that he’d passed out before he could change out of his Elvis costume. “You said you came back to the room last night and then began to feel dizzy. Do you remember if you had a drink after arriving here?”

  “Elvis had a bottle of whiskey and offered me a drink. That rum punch at the beach was a little sweet for my taste and I never have been much of a beer drinker, so I was happy to have some of the good stuff to cleanse my pallet.”

  “Did Elvis have a drink from the same bottle?”

  “No. He drank a beer instead.”

  “So it was after you drank the whiskey that you began to feel dizzy?” I verified.

  “Yes. When we first got here I was feeling fine. After I had the whiskey I began to feel dizzy, so I lay down for a minute. I remember Elvis stretching out on the bed and reaching out for the remote control to turn on the television, and the next thing I knew, it was morning and Elvis was dead.”

  “I think you might have been drugged last night. That would explain why you didn’t wake up even as the man in the bed beside you was being killed.”

  “You think Elvis drugged me? Why would he do that?”

  I frowned. “I don’t know. I suppose he might have planned on some sort of a date rape scenario.”

  Nona chuckled. “Honey, the man made me believe he was Elvis. A date rape drug wouldn’t have been necessary to get me in the sack; if I stayed conscious, that is. No, I don’t think that was the guy’s intent. If he did drug me there must have been something else going on.”

  I tried to suppress the blush I couldn’t quite control. Nona was a free-spirited hippie sort who I knew had an active sex life, but I didn’t like to think about it and certainly didn’t want to hear about the details. “Like what? I can’t imagine what possible reason he would have had for drugging you, but it would explain a lot.”

  “Maybe, but my being drugged doesn’t explain who would kill him or why. And it doesn’t tell us where the body is now or how someone managed to clean up the room and move all the luggage with no one noticing anything.”

  “True, and the total time lapse between when you left the room and came to find me and we returned to the motel to find the body gone and the room clean was maybe ninety minutes. How could anyone completely remove all traces of a murder in only ninety minutes?”

  “Maybe they didn’t. Maybe we need one of those lights they use on TV. You know, the ones that show blood even when it’s invisible to the naked eye.”

  If Salinger was in town I wouldn’t hesitate to call him, and we’d do just that. But I hated to call the sheriff’s office when a man I’d never met was in charge. At least not until I had to. If a murder was confirmed we’d make the call. In the meantime, it didn’t make sense to do anything to bring Nona to his attention any more than she already was.

  “You said there was blood on the bed,” I said again.

  “Yes. Both Elvis and I were lying on top of the bedspread when I woke up. There was a knife in his chest and a pool of blood under him.”

  “Did you notice anything else? Blood on the floor, or maybe blood spatter on the wall? Did the killer wash up in the bathroom perhaps?”

  Nona got up and began to pace. “I don’t remember seeing blood anywhere other than the bed, but I didn’t take the time to look around. I saw Elvis was dead and I panicked. I ran out the door heading directly to the Zoo, which is where you told me yesterday you’d be today.”

  I pulled back the bedspread, the sheets, and the mattress pad. Not a sign of blood anywhere. Surely if a man was murdered on this bed there would be blood all the way down to the mattress. I supposed someone could have changed the bedding and flipped the mattress, but there was no way they were going to change out a mattress with no one noticing. “Help me flip this,” I instructed.

  Still no blood.

  “Are you sure this is the right room?” I asked.

  “It was number fourteen. I have the key to number fourteen. My key opened the door.”

  That was true. The key in Nona’s possession had opened the door to room fourteen.

  “Okay, let’s head back to the competition. It’s almost time for the opening cerem
onies. We may as well find out if Elvis #3 is a go or a no-show.”

  Chapter 3

  By the time we arrived at the beach, spectators were beginning to mill around. The gates had been opened and people were beginning to take seats in the bandstand. I’d hoped we’d be able to find out the status of Elvis #3 without waiting to watch the show, but it wasn’t shaping up that way. I was about to give up and look for a seat when Dirk Pendleton himself walked toward us.

  “If it isn’t Zoe Zimmerman.” Dirk took both my hands in his and kissed me on the cheek.

  I was totally stunned that he remembered me from our brief meeting years ago. Sure, I’d fallen all over myself like a fangirl when Zak had introduced us, but I was sure he was used to that, so I didn’t assume I’d made all that much of an impression. “It’s good to see you too,” I managed to stammer out, which was actually a miracle considering the first time we met I was so starstruck I couldn’t put together a coherent sentence.

  “And who is this lovely vision?” Dirk asked, taking Nona’s hands in his.

  I couldn’t help but notice the heightened pink in Nona’s complexion. “This is Zak’s grandmother, Nona,” I answered.

  “Grandmother?” Dirk pretended not to believe my words. “There’s no way this lovely young thing is anyone’s grandmother!”

  “Oh my, aren’t you the charmer.” Nona grinned from ear to ear.

  Personally, I thought Dirk was laying it on a little too thick, but Nona was beaming, so I kept my mouth shut and grinned along with her.

  “Are you here for the competition?” Dirk asked.

  “We’re here to support a friend,” I answered, recognizing an in to the information I wanted. “Elvis #3, Calvin Jobs.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry to have to tell you this.” Dirk’s smiled faded just a bit. “I’m afraid Calvin had to drop out of the competition. I was sorry to hear it. I’d spoken to him on several occasions and felt he had real potential.”

  “Do you know why he dropped out?” I asked.