by Kathi Daley
“So he didn’t normally prefer more mature women?” Zak asked.
Priscilla laughed. “Not Calvin. He usually went for twenty-year-olds. No, the old dame was strange. I’m not sure what that was all about. The only thing I’ve been able to come up with is that the old dame was helping him with some sort of a prank.”
A prank. Now that was a simple solution I realized deserved a bit more attention.
Chapter 11
Leroy Jenner was a short man with a slightly plump body who didn’t look all that much like Elvis, though when Zak and I caught his rehearsal while we were waiting to speak to him, he had a strong voice and adequate moves. Afterward, Zak pulled him aside to ask if we could speak to him. He seemed amenable enough, but I got the distinct impression from our first question to the last that he was either holding something back or downright lying.
“What did you think of Leroy?” I asked Zak as we drove back to the house.
“He knows something. I don’t know what it is, but it seemed obvious his answers were guarded. When we asked if he thought it was possible Calvin had faked his own death either as a prank or as a means of escaping a bad situation, I could see his muscles tighten and his face turn red.”
I rolled down my window and let the warm air caress my cheeks. “So, are we going with the faked death hypothesis?”
Zak bit his bottom lip. “Maybe. At least for now. Without a body or real blood or anything concrete, we don’t have any proof that he’s actually dead. And if Leroy, or someone, helped him, things become even more plausible.”
“We need to get Leroy to talk,” I said. “I don’t think Nona is going to let this go unless we turn up proof one way or another.”
“I agree. We’ll need to come up with a plan.”
“I was thinking we’d give him a bunch of money in exchange for his telling us what he knows.” There was nothing better than keeping it simple.
“That might work, but if Calvin is in trouble and Leroy really is his friend, he may not rat him out even for financial gain.”
“Yeah. I guess that’s true. Don’t forget, we need to pick up Catherine at Levi and Ellie’s.”
“I’d never forget to pick up my Catie Cue.”
“Catie Cue?”
Zak grinned. “It’s a new nickname I’m trying out. You didn’t like Little Pooter.”
I laughed. “You need to be careful with nicknames. Sometimes they stick well into adulthood.”
“You mean like Stinky Jeffries?”
“Exactly like Stinky Jeffries.” We were thinking of a kid we went to school with. He’d been given the nickname Stinky by his older sister and that’s what everyone still called him in high school.
Levi and Ellie were on the back deck overlooking the lake with both babies sitting quietly in their strollers between them. Levi was sipping on beer and Ellie had a bottle of water. Zak and I were offered our choice and both went with water.
“Beautiful evening,” I said, after I’d greeted my baby and taken a seat next to Ellie, who had her feet propped up on the side of the fire pit.
“It is beautiful, and very relaxing, until we begin discussing baby names,” Ellie agreed.
“I thought you didn’t know the baby’s sex yet,” I said.
“We don’t and won’t for another month, but we decided to pick both a boy’s and a girl’s name. So far, the only thing we’ve been able to agree on is that we don’t care for the other person’s suggestions.”
“Not that I want to get in the middle of this, because I don’t, but what do you have so far?” I asked.
“Jerry if it’s a boy and Jeri if it’s a girl,” Levi said without even taking a beat to stop and think about it.
“Jerry?” I raised a brow.
Levi raised a brow. “After Jerry Rice, the greatest wide receiver of all time.”
“I don’t want my child named after a football player,” Ellie argued.
“Eli is named after a football player,” Levi said.
“No,” Ellie said firmly. “He isn’t. He’s named after us. El from the first two letters of my first name and i from the last letter of your first name. The fact that there happens to be a football player named Eli is strictly a coincidence.”
I seemed to remember having this same conversation when Ellie was pregnant with Eli. Levi had wanted to name his son after a football player that time around as well. I turned and looked at Ellie. “What names would you choose?”
“I have a long list already, and my top choice has changed several times. Right now, I like Julia if it’s a girl and Ramsey if it’s a boy.”
I rolled my eyes. “Really? The fact that you want to name your child after a famous chef is just as ridiculous as Levi wanting to name the baby after a football player.”
“Julia is a common name. Naming my daughter Julia won’t mean I’m naming her after Julia Child. And naming our son Ramsey doesn’t necessarily mean I’d be naming him after Gordon Ramsey.”
Zak sent me a stern look that left me in no doubt that he’d prefer I not get into an argument between either of my best friends.
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I really don’t want to be in the middle of this. Julia, Jerry, and Ramsey are all good names.”
Ellie sat back and let out a groan. “No, they aren’t. I mean, of course they’re fine names, but they aren’t fine names for us. We picked them for all the wrong reasons.”
“How about Jordan for either a boy or a girl?” Levi suggested.
Ellie paused. “Football?”
“Nope,” Levi assured her with a self-satisfied grin.
“Basketball,” I supplied. “I do like the name for either a boy or a girl, though.”
“Maybe we need our own family ghost,” Ellie said. “You settled on Catherine so easily.”
Ellie had a point. I knew if I ever had a girl I was going to name her Catherine long before I became pregnant. Of course, having a psychic tell you that you’re descended from a strong, independent woman who became a strong, independent ghost living in a haunted Irish castle is apt to make a lasting impression.
“I didn’t choose the name because of my discovery of Catherine the ghost. I chose the name because Catherine was my ancestor. It has meaning to me. What about family names?”
Ellie frowned and Levi did too. It seemed they were at least considering this approach.
“I think we should get this little pumpkin home,” Zak said before standing and picking up Catherine, who looked thrilled, as usual, to be in Daddy’s arms.
“Are we still on for sailing tomorrow?” Levi asked.
Zak and I both hesitated.
“Would Monday work for you as an alternative?” Zak asked.
Levi and Ellie indicated it would.
“It’s just that we haven’t figured out this Elvis thing yet, and tomorrow may be our last day to work on it,” I explained. “Once the contest winner is announced tomorrow evening I’m sure the Elvises will scatter, and we’ll have no way to find our answers. I’m afraid wrapping this up has been hard on Nona.”
“Of course getting the answers Nona needs should take priority,” Levi said. “Can we help? Maybe we can watch Catherine again?”
“That might be best,” I said. “Can I call you after we speak to Nona?”
When we got home Alex was in the kitchen making spaghetti. The sauce was simmering on the stove, a pot filled with water to boil the noodles stood ready to be turned on, and two loaves of sourdough bread were buttered and ready to be stuck into the oven. My stomach started to rumble even as my heart filled with appreciation.
“Where’s Scooter and Nona?” I asked as Zak handed Catherine to me, then washed his hands before pitching in and assembling the ingredients for a salad.
“They’re playing video games. They’ve been in there since you left. Did you find the person Nona was looking for?”
“Not yet,” I answered. “But I feel like we’re starting to put things together.”
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br /> “I hope you can figure it out. Nona’s still really upset,” Alex said. “I’ve never seen her so depressed. It’s starting to scare me.”
“The degree to which this is affecting Nona is scaring me as well,” I agreed. “I almost wonder if something else is going on. Did she say anything to you?”
Alex shook her head. “No, though she seems to have this bipolar thing going on. One minute she’s chomping at the bit to get out there and solve the mystery on her own, the next minute she’s sulky and quiet. She goes from being angry about everyone referring to her as an old woman to referring to herself as an old woman. I do think there’s more going on than just the stress of the dead or missing Elvis. You should probably take her to see a doctor.”
“I had that same thought. I’ll make an appointment for her next week. In the meantime, we’re postponing sailing until Monday and working on the Elvis mystery tomorrow.”
Alex grabbed a large spoon and stirred the pot of sauce. “Scooter will be disappointed, but I think that’s a good idea. And I want to help. I went online and pulled up the list of contestants, then did a basic search of each of them. I found a few interesting things, although nothing that really indicates what might be going on. Still, I thought we could go over what I found after dinner.”
Zak shot out an arm and hugged Alex to his side in a gesture of silent approval. From the huge grin on her face, the gesture meant a lot to her.
Dinner was as delicious as it had smelled. Afterward, I headed upstairs to bathe Catherine and put her down for the night while Zak did the dishes, Nona went to her room to rest, Scooter went into the den to watch TV, and Alex returned to the computer room to continue with her search. Zak and I planned to meet her there to see what she’d found once we’d completed our evening tasks.
“Maybe we can keep the splashing to a minimum,” I said to Catherine as I set her into a baby tub filled with warm water that Zak had set into the larger tub, which helped to catch the water spilled over by baby hands and feet.
“Ma,” Catherine screeched as she slapped the water, hitting me squarely in the face.
“Did you have fun playing with Eli today?”
Catherine laughed and splashed me again. This was apparently hysterical; she laughed again and splashed even harder. My heart filled with love as I watched her antics. She was such a sweet, agreeable baby. She was hardly ever fussy, and if she was, you knew something was definitely wrong.
Catherine looked a lot like the photographs I’d seen of myself as a baby: rosy cheeks, bright blue eyes, curly brown hair that fanned her face like a halo. I wondered if she’d be petite like me or tall like Zak. So far, she’d been weighing in at just about dead center for a baby her age.
I tossed a rubber duckie into the water, which delighted Catherine even more. These end-of-day rituals were important to both of us, and I tried never to miss them unless it absolutely couldn’t be avoided. After she’d splashed most of the water out of her little tub, I wrapped her in a large, fluffy towel, then talked to her playfully as I dried her off. Once she was dressed in a warm, fuzzy onesie, I warmed her bottle and settled into the comfy chair in front of the gas fireplace. I clicked the fire on, lowered the lights, and hummed a lullaby as Catherine had her final meal of the day. When she was done, I tucked her into her crib, turned on the baby monitor, and headed down to the computer room to see what Alex and Zak were up to.
“Catherine all tucked in?” Zak asked as I walked in.
“Sleeping like a little princess. So, how’s it going down here?”
“Alex did an excellent job of digging up something on each of the contestants, including Calvin,” Zak informed me. “She clearly has your sleuthing instincts and my computer know-how.”
I smiled and Alex grinned from ear to ear. There were a lot of thirteen-year-olds who wouldn’t want to have anything to do with their parents, but I knew Alex was grateful for our giving her a real home, something she’d never had with her biological parents. She sought and appreciated praise and recognition from both of us, but especially from Zak, who was not only a father figure but a mentor and role model.
“Were you able to narrow things down?” I asked. “We only have one more day before everyone scatters. If there’s someone who knows the truth about this crazy mystery we need to focus in and get the information we need.”
“Alex and I have been talking things through. At this point it’s our theory that Calvin got into trouble with the wrong people and faked his own death to simply disappear. Based on what we’ve ascertained, it seems Calvin targeted Nona specifically, maybe because she was a senior and he figured the sheriff’s office would be more apt to take her seriously, or maybe because she looked to be vulnerable. We suspect his plan all along was to be seen partying with her that evening, so there would be witnesses that could corroborate Nona’s story that she’d spent time with him on the night he ‘died.’ After they’d been seen by the other contestants, Calvin took her to his room and drugged her. She fell into a deep sleep, during which time Calvin set up his illusion, probably with someone else’s help. As we’ve realized, the only way his plan could work is if Calvin had someone standing by to intervene should Nona have called 911 rather than leaving his room, as she did. We suspect Calvin’s accomplice might be Leroy Jenner, Elvis #1, because they were friends. I was able to pull Calvin’s phone records, and he did speak to Leroy late on the evening of his supposed death, though that doesn’t prove anything except that they were in contact. Because we’re assuming that Calvin’s accomplice may have been keeping an eye on him from an adjoining room, I pulled the motel records and found that Elvis #7, Connor Brown, was staying in the room on the other side of room fourteen’s connecting door.”
“Elvis #7 is the one who was always dressed in white,” I said. “He’s the one who invited Calvin and Nona to the party on the beach. If everything was staged, as we suspect, he could very well be Calvin’s accomplice.”
“Alex and I agree,” Zak said. “We pulled his banking records. Calvin transferred twenty thousand dollars into Brown’s account the day before he supposedly was murdered.”
I frowned. “I thought you said Calvin was broke.”
“I did say that. And it appeared to be true after my first sweep of Calvin’s finances. But Alex dug deeper and found an offshore account. The money he transferred to Brown came from that account.”
“So how do we prove this?” I wondered.
“I think it’s time to get Deputy Buckner involved. Connor Brown may have accepted twenty thousand dollars from Calvin in exchange for helping him fake his own death, but I’m pretty sure he won’t be willing to go to prison for him. All Buckner has to do is charge him with Calvin’s murder and my guess is he’ll be more than willing to give us the proof we need that Calvin is alive and well.”
Chapter 12
Sunday, July 8
“Zak,” I screamed as I ran down the hallway. It was two o’clock in the morning and I’d gotten up to check on Catherine when I’d heard a noise. When I arrived at her room I saw she was sound asleep, but that was when I realized the noise I’d heard was really from Nona’s room. I knocked twice. When she didn’t answer, I let myself in.
“Catherine?” Zak asked as he stumbled groggily out of our suite into the hallway.
“Nona. I heard a noise and went to check on her. She’s on the floor, unconscious.”
“Call 911,” Zak said as he started down the hallway.
I’d left my cell on my bedside table, so I went back to grab it and make the call. It only took the paramedics fifteen minutes to respond, but when a person you care about is unresponsive, fifteen minutes seems like an eternity.
“I could see something was off earlier,” I said as I stood next to Zak, praying everything was going to be okay. “She’s been so withdrawn the past few days.”
“We still don’t know why she passed out,” Zak, who was kneeling on the floor, monitoring her heartbeat while we waited, reminded me.
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bsp; “I should have checked on her earlier.”
Zak took my hand in his. “It’s not too late. Nona is unconscious but alive and her heartbeat feels steady. The paramedics will be here in a few minutes. It’s going to be okay.”
I really, really hoped so. I didn’t know what I’d do if Nona died.
Zak accompanied her in the ambulance, and I followed behind in my car after waking Alex and letting her know she was in charge of Catherine should she wake. Alex was naturally upset about the situation, but I knew I could count on her to keep a level head and do whatever needed to be done until we returned. To be honest, I was the Zimmerman who was having the most difficult time keeping it together.
“How is she?” I asked Zak when I arrived. He was sitting on an uncomfortable-looking couch in the waiting room.
“I don’t know. They wouldn’t let me follow her in and the doctor hasn’t come out yet. She was alive but still unresponsive when they wheeled her in.”
My instinct was to curl up into a ball and sob, but I needed to try to be strong for Zak, even though that was the last thing I was feeling. I reminded myself that while I’d only known Nona a few years, Zak had known her his entire life. Nona wasn’t actually his grandmother, wasn’t, in fact, related to him by blood. She was the mother of his cousin Eric’s father. Eric’s mother was the younger sister of Zak’s mother.
“Should we call someone?” I asked. “Your mom? Eric? Wanda?”
“No,” Zak said decisively. “Eric’s family cut Nona out of their life after her stroke. They don’t feel it’s dignified for a woman her age to be carrying on the way she does. Personally, I find Nona to be a lot more human and enjoyable since her stroke caused that drastic personality change.”
I squeezed his hand. While it was true Nona started out life controlled by rules and etiquette, since I’ve known her, I’d found her to be not only strong and opinionated but just a tiny bit crazy. “You know how I feel about her. I love her just the way she is.”
“Mr. Zimmerman.” A doctor wearing a white jacket entered the waiting room.