“Call 911!” Clarissa ordered the woman with the curlers. She doubted it would do any good, but it was worth a try. Maybe the paramedics could revive the man or something…when pigs flew.
“What happened?” Parker demanded as he limped into the storage room. He looked down at the motionless man and a solemn expression came over his face. “Is he breathing?” It was clear from Parker’s tone that he already knew the answer.
“No,” Clarissa said after checking to make sure. “I think he’s gone.”
“Such a shame,” Parker said with a shake of his head. “I wonder what happened.”
“Heart attack, maybe?” Clarissa guessed.
“Maybe,” Parker agreed.
A man in a red sweater walked into the storage room.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the scene in front of him.
“Bobby’s dead!” he exclaimed. He didn’t sound particularly distressed by the realization. He toyed with his neatly trimmed grey mustache thoughtfully. “I guess karma is a you-know-what,” he murmured to himself.
Clarissa’s eyebrows shot up at that. What a strange reaction to have to an acquaintance’s death!
“I hear sirens already,” the lady with the curlers said as she lit her cigarette.
“Me too,” Clarissa replied.
Unfortunately, she was almost certain it was too late for Bobby.
“Do you think we’ll still have bingo tonight?” the lady blurted out after taking a drag.
Taken aback, all Clarissa could do was blink. “Pardon?” she finally sputtered.
“That’s Bobby, our bingo caller. If he’s dead, he can’t call bingo. But someone else could! Do you think someone else will call bingo tonight?” the smoking woman asked hopefully.
“I, uh… No. Given the circumstances, I very much doubt there will be bingo tonight.”
“Drats!” the woman exclaimed. She pulled her bathrobe tighter and stomped away in her slippers, clearly upset that she was going to miss out.
“Wow,” Parker whispered in astonishment as they stepped out of the room so the EMTs could assess the situation. “Is she really upset bingo is canceled when somebody died? Talk about priorities, huh? The people around here are almost as weird as the people in Sugarcomb Lake!”
“The people in Sugarcomb Lake are not weird!” Clarissa shot back, defensive of her hometown.
Parker gave her A Look.
“Okay fine, maybe they are. But Green City has its fair share of weirdos too!”
“Yes, but Green City is an actual city,” Parker said reasonably. “If we’re talking about weirdos per capita, then your hometown definitely has my hometown beat! Not that I mind Sugarcomb Lake one bit,” he added quickly. “The kookiness can actually be quite charming.”
“I agree! It is charming!”
“Excuse us, coming through,” one of the EMTs said.
The two young uniformed men were wheeling out a stretcher. Bobby Bates was on it, and his rotund, stiff body was covered by a plastic sheet. Even his head was covered. Clarissa knew that could only mean one thing: he was dead.
“When I heard we were coming to play bingo, I thought it would be boring. I wished for something exciting to happen, but certainly not this,” Clarissa sighed. “What an awful thing to have happen!”
“It is,” Parker agreed, slipping an arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze.
“Should we get my parents and go?” she suggested. “There’s no point in hanging around.”
“Yeah okay,” Parker nodded. “I hope they weren’t close to this Bobby fellow. Otherwise his death might hit them hard. I expect it’s going to be quite a shock to them anyway, even if they aren’t good friends with him.”
Clarissa bit her lower lip. This was an awful way to start her holiday in Florida! Though she had tried to push her anxieties away, she’d had a bad feeling about the trip from the very start. She hoped Bobby’s unexpected death wasn’t a warning of more bad things to come.
Chapter 06
Bright and early the next morning, the doorbell rang.
Clarissa was rudely jolted out of a fitful slumber. Her eyes popped open and she let out a startled gasp. Then she rolled over and promptly fell onto the floor. Stupid couch…it really was a terrible place to sleep!
“Graceful,” the cat said sarcastically.
It was perched in the armchair across from the couch, where it had bunked down for the night.
“You’re not supposed to be on the furniture!” Clarissa hissed as she tried to muster up what was left of her dignity. “It’s white and your fur is black. You’re going to shed all over everything! Get on the floor!”
“Get on the floor? It looks like you’ve already got that covered,” the cat said snidely. Then, of course, it ignored her command. The cat never had been one to take orders from Clarissa…or anyone else, for that matter.
The doorbell rang again, this time more insistently.
“Would you go answer that already?” the cat demanded. “I’m trying to sleep here!”
Picking herself up off the floor, Clarissa straightened her t-shirt. She looked around for her robe but couldn’t find it. With a shrug, she decided her flannel pajama pants would have to do. Then she stumbled to the door to see who had so inconsiderately woken her up.
She opened the door to find a bored-looking police officer standing there.
“Um, can I help you?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m just wrapping up some loose ends,” the young officer said, smacking his gum loudly. “I’m here about a suspicious death at the bingo hall. I understand someone from this household was present at the bingo hall last night, is that correct?”
“Yes, four of us were there,” Clarissa confirmed. She opened the door wider. “If you want to come inside and wait, I can go wake up the other three people who were there and –”
“Don’t bother,” the officer interrupted. “I’ve got another case to work on that, frankly, is a lot more exciting than some guy who had a heart attack. Did you see anything suspicious last night?”
“Uh, no, but –”
“No?” the cop cut her off. “Okay, great.” He hastily marked something down in a small black notebook and then shoved it into the front pocket of his uniform. “That’s all I needed. You have yourself a good day.”
“Wait!” Clarissa called as he turned to leave.
He stopped and turned around, still looking bored. “What is it?”
“You said Bobby Bates died of a heart attack. How is that suspicious?” she asked curiously.
“There was an empty pill bottle at the scene, but the pills found scattered on the floor didn’t match the label. It looks like the bottle may have been tampered with,” the police officer said with a shrug. “The victim died of a heart attack caused by ingestion of the wrong pills.”
Clarissa’s eyes widened. “Are you suggesting he was murdered?” she asked.
“Yeah I guess. The pills Bobby ingested obviously didn’t belong to him. So yep, murder. Or a suspicious death, anyway,” the cop replied. “But probably murder.”
“Um…are you sure you don’t want to come in?” Clarissa tried again.
“Nah, there’s no point. It will be impossible to prove foul play was involved – if it was.” The officer smacked his gum loudly as he shifted from one foot to the other. “It’s just another file for our cold case collection.”
His cavalier attitude about Bobby Bates’ death was, frankly, appalling. He clearly didn’t care enough to actually investigate the matter properly. That was messed up.
As Clarissa watched the sorry excuse of a cop saunter away, she found herself indignant on Bobby Bates’ behalf. A man was dead – possibly murdered – and the police didn’t even care enough to look into the matter.
Though she was supposed to be on holidays, Clarissa’s journalistic instincts were kicking in. She found herself determined to get to the bottom of what had actually happened. She marched back into the house wi
th a sense of purpose.
A lovely sight greeted her.
“Good morning,” Parker whispered as he tiptoed down the hallway. He leaned down to kiss her. “How did you sleep?”
Rather than admit she had tossed and turned most of the night, Clarissa simply shrugged. “How did you sleep?” she retorted, turning the question around on her boyfriend.
“Surprisingly well, thanks! The pills your dad gave me knocked me right out. I don’t think I woke up once all night long. Was I dreaming or did I hear the doorbell ring?” Parker asked.
“You heard the doorbell ring,” Clarissa confirmed.
“Good morning, kids. Who was at the door at this hour?” her mother asked as she sleepily shuffled into the living room. “The sun is barely even up!”
“It was a police officer,” Clarissa said.
“What’s this about police?” her father demanded, poking his head out of the master bedroom.
“Apparently the police think Bobby Bates was murdered,” Clarissa announced.
“What makes them think that?” Parker asked.
“There were pills scattered around his body, along with an empty pill container. But the pills didn’t match the label. They also weren’t prescribed to Bobby. He took the wrong medication, which caused him to have a heart attack.”
“He did have a bad heart,” Constance confirmed. “He was on medication for it. Everyone told him he ought to live a healthier lifestyle, but that man was stubborn. He popped antacids like they were candy rather than change his eating habits. He sure loved his food.”
“And his booze,” Ed chimed in. “Rumor has it he loved to drink a bit too much.”
“Was it common knowledge that Bobby had a bad heart?” Clarissa asked.
“Oh yes,” Constance nodded. “He joked about it a lot. Everyone knew!”
“Hmm,” Clarissa murmured. She stroked her chin thoughtfully and then posed another, equally important question. “Was Bobby well-liked?”
Ed smirked.
Constance looked apprehensive to say something unfavorable about a dead man.
“Mom, Dad, what do you know? Did Bobby get along with people? I mean, I know Betty wasn’t fond of him after he refused to go on a date with her…but what about his relationships with other people? Was Bobby somebody who had a lot of enemies?”
“Jack Walter!” Ed said immediately.
“Who is that?”
“He’s a neighbor of ours. He lives in a duplex down at the end of the block,” Constance explained. “Bobby lives – I mean lived in the other side of the duplex. They were…not exactly on the friendliest of terms, from what I understand.”
“Why didn’t they get along?” Clarissa pressed, eager to collect as many details as possible.
“They had some sort of petty feud,” Ed explained. “Jack was eager to tell me all about it when I ran into him the other day – boy, was he angry! But to be honest, the whole thing sounded pretty silly so I sort of tuned him out. Sorry, dear.”
“You said he lives in the duplex at the end of the block?” Clarissa was already walking toward the front door. “I’m going to stop by and pay him a visit,” she decided.
“I’ll come with you as soon as I get dressed,” her mother volunteered. She looked at Clarissa. “You do realize you were about to leave the house wearing pajama pants, right?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Clarissa replied.
“Pardon me?” Constance asked, looking horrified.
“Er, nothing Mom.”
Constance turned her attention to Parker. “While we’re gone, would you mind helping Ed figure out how to operate the remote control? He clicked the wrong button last week and hasn’t been able to watch TV since.”
“I know how to work the remote control!” Ed protested.
“Then why did I catch you yelling at it the other day?” Constance asked knowingly. “And why haven’t you been watching your favorite show lately? You’re usually glued to the TV on the nights it’s on.”
“Maybe I want to binge watch it later,” Ed retorted defensively.
Constance rolled her eyes. “Parker, would you mind? Ed is apparently too proud to admit he’s technologically deficient but just…help him out, would you? I’m tired of listening to him rant and rave about that darn remote!”
***
Ten minutes later, Clarissa and her mother were walking purposefully down the street.
“Now that I’ve got a moment alone with you, I want to apologize,” Constance said as the two women made their way down the sunny, palm tree lined street. “I overreacted when I found out about the magic. It caught me off guard.”
“I can’t believe you never told me I’m a witch!”
Constance sighed. “Every woman in our family has that gene. Over the decades, some have chosen to develop their skills and embrace magic. Others have shunned it. As I’m sure you’ve figured out, your aunt and I had very different approaches.”
“So that’s why you and Miranda had a falling out?”
Constance nodded. “You and your sister were young. I wanted to protect the two of you. And my stubborn sister wouldn’t stop performing magic when she babysat you! She meant well. She used magic to clean up your spilled milk and put away your toys and entertain you.”
“That sounds pretty handy. Why did you get so angry at her?”
“She wasn’t respecting my wishes,” Constance replied. “I asked her time and time again to keep her magic out of my house. She disregarded that request, so I told her she wasn’t allowed to be alone with your girls anymore. Shortly after that, she packed up and moved abroad.”
Clarissa thought about that for a moment. “But why do you hate magic so much?”
Constance frowned. “I had a bad experience. It was a terrifying experience, really. I used to read tea leaves,” she explained. “I was pretty good at it, too. But then I started seeing awful things…and they started coming true! That was when I knew I was done.”
A shiver ran up Clarissa’s sign. “That’s spooky.”
Her mother nodded. “I really wish you would stop dabbling in magic.”
“I’ll think about it,” Clarissa replied. Then her eyes widened. “You said all of the women in our family have the gene! Does that mean Jasmine is a witch?!”
“As far as I know, your sister doesn’t have the slightest clue about her abilities. And you’re going to keep it that way,” Constance said sternly. “Don’t you dare go putting ideas in her head, you understand me?”
“Okay. Wait – is Grandma a witch?!” Clarissa gasped.
“Don’t get me started on my mother,” Constance sighed.
“Does Dad know?” Clarissa asked.
“Don’t mention any of what we’ve talked about to your father,” Constance ordered. Then she pointed to a tidy two-storey duplex with a brick exterior. “We’re here. The side with the nice garden is Jack Walter’s – oh, actually there he is tending to his roses! Hello Jack!” she called.
A tall, thin man who was bent over behind a luscious rose bush straightened up and turned around. He had white hair and a neatly trimmed mustache. When he saw Clarissa’s mother, he waved. Then he set down his garden shears and walked over to chat.
“Beautiful day out, isn’t it?” he said pleasantly.
“Yes, it is,” Constance agreed. “Jack, I’d like you to meet my oldest daughter Clarissa. She’s visiting from Sugarcomb Lake, where Ed and I used to live. Clarissa, this is Mr. Walter. As you can see, he’s an avid gardener!”
“Hello Clarissa.”
“Clarissa gardens too,” Constance said helpfully. “When Ed and I moved to Florida, Clarissa bought our house from us. Now Clarissa tends to the garden I planted there. She quite enjoys it. Isn’t that right, Clarissa?”
“Y – yes,” Clarissa managed to stutter.
“Your flowers are looking as lovely as ever!” Constance chirped.
“Thank you. You have a gorgeous garden yourself. Every time I walk past
I have to stop to admire all the vibrant colors. Oh, that reminds me! You mentioned a while back that you liked the perennials on the east side of my house, so I set aside a few seeds for you. I’ll just go into the shed and get them.”
“Isn’t he a sweetheart?” Constance gushed once Jack Walter had retreated to his backyard. “It’s so nice to have a neighbor who shares my passion for gardening!”
Clarissa said nothing.
Constance raised an eyebrow. “Why are you acting to strangely?”
Swallowing hard, Clarissa said, “I recognize Jack Walter. He walked into the storage room at the bingo hall last night. He saw Bobby Bates lying there dead and he seemed completely unfazed by it.”
“Are you sure?” Constance asked skeptically. “He could have been in shock.”
“Yes, I know that. But I don’t think that was the case. I don’t think he seemed upset at all. In fact, he made some remark about karma catching up with Bobby. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was pleased Bobby was dead!”
“Well that’s not shocking,” Constance replied. “Jack and Bobby were feuding, after all.” Then Constance hissed, “Here Jack comes! Act normal! The last thing I need is for my neighbors to think I raised a socially inept daughter!”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Here you go,” Jack said, handing Clarissa’s mother a small envelope. “Plant the seeds in a sunny spot and I think you’ll find they’ll grow very quickly.”
“Thank you!” Constance said appreciatively.
Clarissa cleared her throat. “Mr. Walter, I think I recognize you from the bingo hall.”
“Ah yes, I thought you looked familiar. And please, call me Jack. Mr. Walter was my father.”
“I uh…I understand Bobby Bates was your next door neighbor?” Clarissa asked.
“More like next door menace!” Jack scoffed. “He’d let the weeds in his yard grow and grow. They were huge! Then they would go to seed and invade my yard!”
Constance clucked sympathetically.
“I tried asking Bobby nicely to pull the weeds. He wouldn’t. He flat out refused. Finally one day I’d had enough, so I went over to pull the weeds myself. He saw me and called the police on me! He said I was trespassing!”
The Name of the Game is Murder (A Clarissa Spencer Cozy Mystery Book 6) Page 4