Bedpans, Teapots and Corpses (A Maggie and Irene Cozy Mystery Book 1)

by Kitty Margo

  Irene followed Natalie into the kitchen. “I can make some tea.”

  “Thank you,” Alice mumbled.

  When Natalie had Irene situated in the kitchen she returned to the parlor. Sitting beside her mom on the couch she instructed, “Tell my parents that my existence is in total harmony now. Tell them as sad as I am to leave them behind, I am ready to cross over and be with my grandparents. We will be waiting for the time when they have both lived long and happy lives and can join us. The only reason I haven’t gone on is to give them closure. I can’t leave until I know they have made peace with my passing.”

  Alice smiled. “Tell Natalie to go to my mother. I can deal with her passing as long as I know she is in her grandmother Rebecca’s loving arms. She adores Natalie so.”

  “And I adore her,” Natalie whispered, floating over to give both her parents a kiss on the cheek. “Goodbye, Mother. Goodbye, Father. Until we meet again.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Irene

  The three of us were in a melancholy mood when we left Nate’s house. Natalie hovered silently in the back seat, gazing out the window at the neighborhood where she had spent a happy childhood. Poor thing. She desperately needed cheering up.

  “We need to do something fun,” I suggested.

  “Such as?” Natalie responded despondently.

  Maggie glanced over at me with a wicked grin. “Guess what’s playing at the movie theatre?”

  “What?” Natalie and I asked at the same time.

  “Magic Mike XXL.”

  I slammed on breaks, did a U turn in the middle of the street, and was swiftly headed in the direction of the theatre. I swear to you my liver actually quivered. “Who better to spend the evening with than Channing Tatum.”

  Twenty minutes later, we were sitting in the cinema watching Magic Mike XXL. Lord have mercy! That man can do things with his pelvis that causes the old nether region to twitch in an uncontrollable fashion, and I noticed that every female in the audience was getting kinda wiggly in her seat as well. You know that sly, sexy little grin Channing has when he is about to straddle some lucky lady in the audience and grind his crotch all up on her. I am here to tell you, my nerves couldn’t take it. That fine male specimen of a man just might get more than he bargained for. You know with age comes wisdom, and don’t delude yourself into thinking that I haven’t learned a thing or two in my 54 years on the planet.

  Don’t you know when a casting agency put out word last fall for middle aged women to submit for roles as extras in a scene for Magic Mike XXL that I promptly emailed my photo and required information.

  I wasn’t chosen, and I had gone to the beauty salon and paid for highlights and even put on make up for the photo. Truth be told, I was actually depressed for two or three days when I didn’t get the call. However, in hindsight, I guess the good Lord was watching out for me, cause I would surely have been subject to serious heart palpitations if Channing Tatum had even considered thrusting his dangly bits in my face. Have mercy! But gloration! What a way to go!

  Anyway, about half way through the movie, I was totally engrossed in the eye candy on the screen and not wanting my movie experience to be disturbed for one second, when a middle aged, short statured man of African descent meanders in and plops down beside me. I mean it was the middle of the afternoon on a Friday and the movie was hardly crowded, so there was plenty of available seating. I didn’t see why he made it a point to fall in beside me. He need not even think about striking up a conversation until the lights came up, or he would surely get his feelings hurt.

  Just as I was beginning to lust after the mouthwatering physique on the screen, I noticed something white out of the corner of my eye. I briefly glanced over and found that the man beside me had taken off his shoe and had his foot propped up on the seat in front of him. Bless his heart. His sock had a hole in it the size of a quarter and his toe was sticking out. But he didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed by the fact that his sock was in desperate need of darning. If he had he wouldn’t have jacked it up on the seat for the entire movie going audience to see.

  Instead he was flexing his toe back and forth as though he were trying to gain some attention for the stubby little appendage. Maybe the poor man didn’t have the money to buy new socks. But, on the other hand, for the price of admission and his large tub of popcorn and supersized drink, he could have bought a pack of 10 pairs of socks, with a couple of extra bonus pairs thrown in for good measure, at Target. Just saying.

  Then Magic Mike started gyrating and my lower abdomen clenched up in knots, and that was the end of all rational thought for a while.

  When next I looked, the intrepid little man to my left had gone to the trouble of taking off his sock and propping his bare foot on the seat. Ewww! Who wanted to lean back in a seat smeared with his toe jam!

  But when did that happen? Did he get embarrassed by the hole and take the sock off. It was a warm day after all, but still. What next?

  Some time later, when Magic Mike was having a tender moment on screen and I was beginning to feel all warm and cuddly inside, I felt something rub against my leg. My first thought was sweet Jesus there is a mouse running amok in the theatre and my warm and cuddly feeling fled faster than a gay man at a redneck convention.

  Then, whatever it was on my foot started rubbing slowly around my ankle and suddenly I just knew it wasn’t a mouse.

  A rat maybe, but not a mouse.

  As I live and breathe it was the demented little pervert beside me. Evidently his mind didn’t function properly if he really thought he could get frisky with me right there in the movie theatre in front of God and fellow moviegoers. And let me just tell you, he needed to swing by the dollar store and purchase some nail clippers, because he was vigorously raking his jagged toenail up and down my leg to the point I was afraid he would draw blood.

  I leaned over to Maggie and whispered, “Can you believe this ignorant fool beside me is trying to play footsie with me?”

  “Okay,” Maggie said without taking her eyes off Channing. “That’s nice.”

  “Trust me.” I gritted between clenched teeth. “It’s not. I swear his toenails have not been within 10 feet of an emory board since Christmas.”

  Said fool continued to watch the movie, oblivious to the commotion beside him. He was too busy clawing at my leg.

  “He took his sock off and is plowing up and down my leg in what he must surely believe is some sort of soft and sexy caress designed to turn me on. When, in reality, it feels more like he’s using a ten penny nail.”

  I spoke loud enough for him to hear me, but the imbecile was still ignoring me with his eyes riveted front and center. Was he actually going to pretend like he didn’t know what he was doing?

  Maggie was almost giddy by now, practically drooling at the screen and completely ignoring my distress. Natalie, on the other hand, couldn’t be still and hovered erratically around the theatre.

  Snatching my foot out of the way, I turned to look directly at the man. His eyes were glazed over and he had a wide grin on his face as he shoved handfuls of popcorn into his mouth without a care in the world. Needless to say, I saw red and as they would say in a romance novel, I felt my blood simmering through my veins. Without taking my eyes off him, I lifted the lid on my large Sierra Mist and promptly dumped the contents in his lap. That should cool down his overactive libido.

  He screamed like a girl when the icy liquid covered his crotch, tossed his popcorn straight up in the air, and stood to shake the ice from his lap. “What did you do that for?” he shrieked, glaring at me like he was mad enough to pop a vessel in his forehead or something. “Are you insane?”

  “Because you were trying to get your jollies and shred my ankle in the process,” I spat. “The next time you decide to assault an innocent woman in a movie theatre have the decency to get a damn pedicure first!”

  “You’re crazy lady!” And, shockingly, the look he gave me might lead those sitting around us to believe that I
was indeed a candidate for a mental health evaluation.

  Extremely pissed, I jumped to my feet. “Who in the hell do you think you’re calling crazy, you depraved degenerate?”

  By this time, Maggie was finally able to drag her eyes away from that hunk of burning love on the screen. “What on earth is going on?” she snapped, extremely annoyed by the audacity of anyone who would try to ruin her Channing experience. “Can y’all please keep it down over there so I can enjoy the movie?”

  As the man stomped out of the theatre, I was so mad I could chew nails and spit bullets. Leaning toward her, I huffed hard enough to make her dangly earrings sway. “The man that just left has been trying to gouge holes in my leg for the last ten minutes, thank you very much.”

  “And you didn’t stop him?” she asked.

  “Of course, I stopped him!” I stormed. “He’s not doing it anymore is he?”

  “Good. Now can we please just watch the rest of the movie and talk about this later?”

  Help us all! Magic Mike was more important to her than my near molestation at the hands of a madman.

  Chapter Thirty One

  Irene

  Maggie and I were meandering through the local farmer’s market the next day. I was merrily thumping melons, squeezing tomatoes, and sniffing cantaloupes, while she was putting okra in a bag and salivating over a bin of fresh peaches. I love me some summertime and fresh vegetables. I also grabbed some Vidalia onions and several pods of cayenne pepper. Man, I love that stuff. The hotter the better.

  Earlier in the day, we had decided on a good old Southern meal for supper. I had pinto beans in the crockpot and we were having fried okra, fried potatoes, fatback and cornbread to go with it. Yes, yes, yes! I know what fried foods do to my cholesterol. Yet, once a month, we allow ourselves to eat anything we want and that normally includes something fried to a crisp golden brown.

  Lord have mercy, I would kill for some fried chicken livers and gizzards swimming in gravy like my daddy used to cook, but it would probably raise my triglycerides by at least a hundred points, plus Maggie never would stop gagging and heaving. I can hear her now. “It ain’t natural to eat organ meats. God put an outrageous amount of cholesterol in it to keep the lesser intelligent of our species from trying to eat anything so nasty.”

  Letting her carry on, since over the years she has earned a virtual master’s degree at it, I said, “Do you know what would be good for dessert?”

  “Peach cobbler?”

  “That would be scrumptious, but I was thinking more along the lines of a rich and juicy blackberry cobbler topped with vanilla ice cream.”

  “It’s August, honey, blackberries are out of season. Although blueberries bushes are loaded this year and they are as sweet as sugar. Blueberries are a super food, you know, since they have all those antioxidants in them. How does blueberry cobbler sound?”

  “That would be my second choice. I wonder where we could pick some fresh blueberries?”

  Natalie suddenly popped up, and ever alert to our conversation chimed in with, “My dad has a stand of blueberry bushes beside the pond.” Then her eyes clouded with pain. “I bet he hasn’t even been to the pond this year, let alone picked any to freeze. If he had he would have seen all those dead fish and set up a fuss about it.”

  Maggie started brainstorming at the mere mention of the pond. That never turned out well. “What are you thinking, Maggie.”

  “The way I see it, Natalie must have died before she could have the water in the pond sampled.”

  I didn’t like where this was headed. “So, exactly what are you suggesting?”

  “I’m suggesting that we go to the pond and collect our own sample for testing, or do you have a better idea?”

  Not really. “Don’t we need Nate’s permission to go traipsing across his land?”

  “You have my permission,” Natalie was quick to assure us.

  I placed a dozen ears of Silver Queen corn in my basket. “Is permission from a dead girl permissible in a court of law?”

  “Thanks for reminding me that I’m dead,” Natalie snapped.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled. “Isn’t the fact that you can see the floor through your feet a constant reminder?”

  She turned her nose up at me, then glanced down at her feet. “Anyway, let’s not worry Dad with this. He and Mom have enough to deal with at the moment. There is a road behind the chicken house that leads to the pond without having to drive past our house, so he will never even know we were there.”

  Maggie was still deep in thought. “What sort of container does one collect water in for testing?” she wondered aloud. “Does it need to be a sterile?”

  “I wouldn’t think so. A plastic water bottle should do,” I volunteered this information when I really had no idea what would and wouldn’t work in such a case. “And I’ll take a small cooler to bring back fish samples as well.”

  “Sounds like a plan. We can kill two birds with one stone. Lets go to my house and drop off the produce. While we’re there we can fetch a water bottle to collect the water in as well as a pail to pick the blueberries in. I can’t wait until suppertime,” Maggie added, licking her lips. “My mouth is already watering.”

  ~*~

  Within the hour we were driving down the road to the pond, and unfortunately the smell assaulted us long before we parked the car. Maggie immediately began dry heaving and gagging. “What is that horrible smell?”

  “Decomposing pond critters,” Natalie supplied from the back seat. “I just can’t figure out what could have killed every living thing in our pond?”

  Maggie just barely got the door open before she lost her lunch, then she held her nose and started running. “I’m going up the hill and sit under that patch of trees until you finish. You know I can’t take this smell, Irene. I’ll end up puking my guts up.”

  Natalie hollered, “Our property ends at that first oak tree,” but Maggie was already out of hearing distance.

  I watched Maggie until she sat down and leaned back against a tree. The breeze was blowing in the opposite direction, so she should be fine.

  Actually, the smell was almost more than I could tolerate. It was a rotten, dead smell mixed with an overpowering chemical smell. The mixture was so potent I was already becoming swimmy headed.

  I pulled out a pair of my thick yellow house cleaning gloves from a grocery bag that I had stashed all of my supplies in. You know the kind that comes up to your elbows? Then I screwed the top off the water bottle. Using a long pair of kitchen tongs, I lowered the bottle into the water.

  Lo and behold the plastic melted as soon as it touched the water!

  “Oh my, God!” I squealed, jumping back. “There must be acid or some other caustic agent in the water.” I looked across the pond for the first time and noticed a thick green, bubbling film covering it.

  Stumped, I was pondering what to do next when my phone rang and Maggie’s name flashed across the screen. “Irene, why did you jump back like that.”

  “You are not going to believe this, but the water bottle dissolved when it touched the water. The pond must have acid or something in it.”

  “Who in the world would put acid in a pond?” she asked. “That makes no sense.”

  “I don’t know, but I guess I need a metal container to collect a sample in. Something that acid won’t eat through.”

  “No!” Maggie screeched. “You get away from that water immediately!”

  “I’m fine, Maggie. I have my long tongs that I use on the outdoor grill. I’m not even close to the water, but let me tell you the smell alone is deadly and my eyes are burning like fire.”

  “I’m coming down now,” she insisted, “ so start marching your ass toward the car. I want you away from that water at once.”

  “We’ve come this far and you would be useless anyway with all your gagging and heaving. Let’s just finish this. You know we promised to help Natalie solve her murder and she has already warned us not to lie to her.”

>   “I can hear you, you know,” Natalie said, arching an eyebrow at me.

  I winked at her and turned my attention back to Maggie. “I see a barn in the distance behind you. If you think you can walk that far, look around and see if you can find a metal container to hold a few ounces of water. That’s all we need for a sample, then we can drop it off at the lab and find out exactly what killed these fish.”

  “Of course I can walk that far.” She inhaled a deep breath like she was preparing herself for a relay race. “Ask Natalie who owns the property up here.”

  Natalie’s response was, “Dad said Mr. Tom, who used to own the land, left it to his grandson, a fellow named Patrick Jackson. I’ve never met him, although Dad says he’s a very nice young man who worked at Pine View Chemicals for years.”

  “Well, if he worked at the chemical plant he is unemployed after the big explosion and he might be at home. I’ll go see.”

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Irene

  I was walking around the pond, while Natalie hovered over it looking for anything suspicious under all that green slimy water. The smell alone was enough to gag a maggot. I stopped short, taking several giant leaps backwards and thanking my lucky stars that I hadn’t plowed right through a three foot wide fire ant mound. Man, those things attack anything that disrupts their nest and sting something terrible. I was bent over poking the mound with a long stick, I have to admit I love watching them go crazy as they mount an attack against the intruder, when I heard Natalie whisper words that caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand at attention. “Irene, turn around slowly. Teddy Knox is coming up behind you with a double barrel shotgun in his hands.”

  Slowly, my ass! I spun around and watched the most detested man in our town casually stroll toward me with the firearm slung carelessly over his shoulder. “Good afternoon, Teddy.”