by Sharon Rose
When we got inside, she said, “I think I might have some rum, Mabel. Would you like a little drink too? I hate to drink alone.”
“Of course, I’ll join you. Where is the bottle?” I steered her into one of the kitchen chairs and sat her down.
Her face turned pink and she pointed to the counter with one fluttery finger. “Well, I think it’s right over there on the cupboard.”
Sure enough, there was the half-full (or half-empty, whichever way you look at it), bottle of dark golden rum sitting right on the kitchen counter. Imagine that.
“Do you want me to pour out your iced tea?” I asked, very innocently.
She blushed. “Well, if you must know, Mabel, it really isn’t iced tea. I know you must think I’m terrible but I poured myself some rum and cola.”
“I don’t think you’re terrible at all. You are very shaky, Prunella. Have you eaten anything lately? Did you have some dinner?”
She shook her head. “I can’t eat anything. This murder thing has messed up my life, Mabel. What am I going to do? My stomach is churning all the time. Reg says that I might have to go to court and testify. What if I didn’t hear right? What if I made a mistake and Melanie goes to jail for life because of me? Or worse yet, what if she gets the death penalty?” With that thought in mind, she put her head in her arms on the table and sobbed. It wasn’t the loud wet sort of sobbing that Flori does but it was a quiet moaning sort of sobbing. I sat there for a few minutes and patted her back.
“Prunella,” I said. “What exactly did you hear Melanie saying to Bernie? And, don’t worry, we don’t have the death penalty here. This isn’t Texas, you know.”
It seemed that she suddenly woke up to reality. She sat up and reached for a tissue from a box on the table.
“Oh Mabel, I’m sorry I broke down like that.” She blew her nose and kept the tissues rolled up in her fist. Then she turned to me and said in a very quiet serious voice, “I’m sorry, Mabel, but Sheriff Smee specifically said that I should not tell anyone and especially you, what I heard that morning.”
“Really? Why did Reg say that? He knows very well that a woman has to confide in another woman. That’s the problem with having a male sheriff, Prunella. They don’t understand anything when it comes to dealing with women. Now, if you asked his wife Beth if you should talk about what happened with your friends, she would know exactly what you should do – you should talk it out. If you did that, you wouldn’t be sitting on the porch all day drinking rum. I’ve a mind to talk to Reg and tell him what he’s doing to you.”
She grabbed my arm. “Oh no, Mabel, please don’t tell Reg that I’ve been drinking.” After clearing her throat, she continued, “I did have a problem with alcohol at one point in my life. Do you really think it would help if I talked about it? The murder, that is.”
“You know that it would. It’s a heavy burden for one person to bear and you shouldn’t have to. Reg knows very well that I’ve helped him solve a number of murder cases so I don’t know why he’s being so stubborn with this one.”
Prunella took a gulp of the rum and cola. “I know why,” she said. “I think he might be jealous, Mabel. And, he’s retiring so maybe he wants to leave some sort of legacy. That’s what men are like, aren’t they?” She grinned as if she and I were sharing some undiscovered secret.
I grinned back. “I’ll make myself that drink now.”
In the fridge, I found some cold cuts and cheese so I took those out, along with a canned soda and a jar of dill pickles. There were some almost fresh buns in a bag on the counter so I took one out and made a sandwich for her. Prunella sat, looking very gloomy and every now and then taking a sip of her drink. I wanted her to eat before she passed out on me.
I plunked the sandwich down on a plate and put it in front of her.
“Here, eat. I’ll freshen up your drink.” I emptied the glass and poured in a small amount of rum with a large amount of cola. In my glass, I did the same – except the opposite. After all, I hadn’t been drinking all day.
While she ate, I talked about everything that was happening in Parson’s Cove except the murder. There wasn’t much to talk about but I wanted her to relax. I told her about the senior citizens going into the city every week now and how they couldn’t even go shopping anymore. She thought that was terrible too. Someday, I told her, she and I should go with them and force Calvin Koots to drop all of us at the Mall.
“And,” she said, quite excitedly, “we’d tell him that we would watch over them. How could he say no to that?”
I didn’t want to tell her that I wasn’t too fussy about babysitting a bunch of golden oldies, especially old Mr. Dudley, but I was happy that she was settling down and had stopped being so fluttery.
She was finished her sandwich so I asked if she would like some coffee.
“Oh yes, that would be so wonderful. I’m told that you make the best coffee in Parson’s Cove.”
“You mean in all these years, you’ve never stopped in at the shop and had a cup of my coffee?”
“I’ve been in your shop, you know that, but I’ve never had a cup of coffee there.”
I knew Prunella stopped in once in awhile but I also knew that she never bought anything so I never offered her coffee. If I started giving coffee to everyone, the place would be full every day but not with customers. Sometimes I see Prunella walking around with Esther Flynn and I obviously never offer coffee to Esther.
“Well, you’re in for a treat, Prunella.” It wasn’t hard to find everything so in a matter of minutes, there was a pot of coffee brewing.
Prunella pushed her rum away. It was still full. I placed the coffee in front of her and took the glass away. I’m sure she realized that she’d reached her limit in the rum department.
“So, Prunella,” I said. “What exactly bothers you so much about what you heard? Is it that you’re not sure now what Melanie said?” She hesitated as though she wasn’t sure if she should answer. “You don’t have to tell me what she said. I know Reg told you not to and I don’t want to get you in trouble but I think you should tell me why you’re so upset or worried about it. I know it would make you feel better.”
She took a drink of coffee and savored it for a few seconds before swallowing. “This is wonderful coffee, Mabel.” She smiled and thanked me. “In fact, you’re nothing like Esther makes you out to be.”
It was my turn to smile. “I know.”
She laughed. “Oh no, I know what I heard. I guess that is what’s bothering me the most, Mabel.” She looked at me with a sad smile. “It’s hard because I was married for over forty years before my husband passed away and never in all those years did I raise my voice to him and tell him that I hated him and wanted him to go to hell.” She shook her head. “Even when I was angry with him, I never would’ve told him that I was going to kill him.”
“Melanie told Bernie that she was going to kill him?”
She nodded. “That’s why I went to the police. Do you think I did the right thing?”
“Yes, you did. If she did kill him in a moment of heated passion, I’m sure they’ll call it manslaughter. It definitely wasn’t something that she planned ahead of time.”
“They called each other a lot of terrible names, Mabel. I wouldn’t even repeat them. Except Reg made me tell him, but I told him that I would say them only once and never again. That’s why I had to go to the station so they could make a video. It was so humiliating.”
“It’s something that they have to do, Prunella. You were very brave to say all those words.”
I looked at my watch. It was after nine. By now, Flori would’ve called my house about five or six times and maybe she would be sitting on my back step waiting for me.
“I guess I’d better get home, Prunella. Are you going to be okay now? There’s still some coffee left if you want another cup. It might keep you up all night though.”
Prunella stood up, much more steady than the last time. “I think I might leave it and warm it up
in the morning. That should wake me up good.” She walked me to the door. “I want to thank you so much for coming over, Mabel. You’re the only person who has. Esther hasn’t even come and she’s supposed to be my friend. I was feeling so lonely and wondering if everyone in Parson’s Cove had abandoned me.”
Although I’m not the hugging type of person, I stepped over and gave her a hug. I didn’t think she was ever going to let me go.
Flori was sitting on my back step when I got home.
Chapter Nine
“Flori,” I said. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“You know very well what I’m doing here.” She stood up. Considering the fact that she is already almost a foot taller than I am and then add my back steps to that, I felt like an ant preparing to be squished.
“Well, my goodness.” I smiled. “Don’t just stand there. Come on in.” I tried to maneuver around her as nonchalantly as I could but she wasn’t going to let me get away with it that easily.
“No, Mabel, I’m not coming in. I’ve been waiting here for almost an hour. I phoned three times before I came. Where, on earth have you been? And, don’t tell me you were working at the store because I already called there and there was no answer.”
“I had some errands to run, that’s all. You didn’t have to worry about me, Flori. Why do you want to stay outside on the step? You can come in and I’ll make us a cup of tea.”
“What kind of errands do you have to run in the evening, Mabel?” She crossed her arms. This is no easy feat for her as her breasts tend to get in the way. So, there she stood, trying to stare me down and trying to keep her arms together. “Did they happen to involve Prunella?”
“Did what involve Prunella?”
“Your errands, Mabel.”
I know Flori well enough to know that she already knew I’d been at Prunella’s house. There was no point in prolonging the pain.
“As a matter of fact, it did if you must know.”
She dropped her arms down. “It’s a good thing you came clean because I had proof that you were there.”
“You had proof?”
“Hmm-hmm. It just so happens that Jake saw you sitting on the veranda with Prunella. And, you thought I wouldn’t find out about your investigating, didn’t you?”
“Flori, I have absolutely nothing to hide. I’m so thankful that I was able to visit with her. Do you know that the whole town is avoiding her and she’s suffering from depression because of it?”
Flori’s cheeks turned a tiny bit pink because her conscience always bothers her if someone is in need and there’s no one there to help. She feels like all the problems in Parson’s Cove are resting upon her shoulders.
Her arms dropped and a look of horror crossed her face. “Oh, Mabel, I had no idea. You know that I would’ve gone over to visit if I’d known. What’s going to happen to her?”
“Hopefully, nothing, but I can tell you if she doesn’t stop drinking all those large glasses of iced tea, she’ll be in bad shape soon.”
“Iced tea? Why would that hurt her?”
“It does if she’s saying it’s iced tea and really it’s rum and coke.”
Flori gasped. “Oh my goodness, Mabel, does Reg know? If she’s been drinking, they won’t be able to use her testimony, will they? Do you think she was drunk when she thought she saw Melanie and Bernie fighting?”
I grabbed her arm and turned her towards the door. “Flori, come in. We can’t talk about this outside. Besides, who knows who’s hiding behind the bushes listening?”
I opened the door but not before Flori quickly glanced around my back yard.
“I have lots to tell you, Flori, so I’m going to dig out a bottle of Sadie MacIntosh’s wine. Why don’t you sit in the living room? I’ll get the wine and some snacks.”
“What do you mean - you have lots to tell me? You aren’t thinking of trying to solve a mystery here, are you? You said that Prunella wasn’t drunk so, Mabel, she saw what she saw. Please don’t try to read things into it. Please leave it up to Reg and the boys. Please don’t include me in anything.”
“Flori, go and sit down. If you say ‘please’ once more, I’ll scream.”
I heard Flori sigh or perhaps it was more of a groan before she plunked down on the couch. Several springs protested because it isn’t often that someone that size tests their integrity. It seemed that even though the couch was over fifty years old, it has stood the test of time and Flori was not in any danger of having a sharp spring fly up anywhere into her anatomy. I’m always a bit leery when she sits on any of my furniture. I know if something ever breaks, she will be heartbroken. It will do damage to her self-esteem that could never be repaired.
My pantry, which used to be my father’s bedroom, is off the kitchen. It holds a small freezer,
( which I try to keep filled with my homemade muffins) four large plastic kitty litter boxes, seven cat dishes, and three large dishes for water (which all say DOG on them). Along the north wall, there are three shelves filled with small appliances, mixing bowls, and other items that I don’t use too often. On the south wall, there is a large antique hutch - where in the bottom cupboard, I store my wine supply. Sadie makes the best chokecherry wine in the country. I’m sure it’s fifty percent alcohol. The one window faces east. I’m proud to say that this is the largest pantry in Parson’s Cove.
Instead of pouring the wine I just grabbed two wine glasses, the bottle, and a corkscrew and went into the living room.
“I thought you were going to bring some snacks.” Flori doesn’t miss a thing.
“I will. I can’t carry everything at the same time, Flori.”
Flori jumped up. “Oh Mabel, I’m so sorry. What was I thinking? I’ll go and bring the snacks.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll bring the snacks while you open the wine and pour it.” I handed the corkscrew to her. “And don’t be stingy with the wine.”
I never have much for snacks in my house but I did have some excellent old cheddar cheese, an almost empty box of Ritz crackers, and three dill pickles. After cutting up the cheese and pickles and arranging the crackers around the outside of the plate, it looked like something a person could take to a baby shower. Speaking from experience, of course, since Flori’s daughters or daughters - in - law seem to be having a baby every year or so and this is what I always bring.
Flori, I am happy to say, was not stingy with the wine. In fact, she was half way through her first glass when I walked in with the snacks.
“Flori,” I said. “You do not guzzle wine. Beer, you guzzle. Wine, you sip.” I placed the plate on the table in front of her. “Sorry but this is all I have. I can thaw out some muffins if you like but somehow they don’t go with wine, do they?”
She took another gulp. A few drops dribbled down her chin. She expertly guided them back into her mouth with her finger.
“I didn’t come to eat so don’t worry about it, Mabel.” She picked up three chunks of cheese and four crackers. “I think we might need some napkins though.”
After getting Flori settled in, I took my first swallow. Sadie’s wine has as much alcohol in it as most tequila does and probably twice that of Prunella’s rum. I think it was the first time all evening that I started to relax.
“So, Mabel, what’s the news you had to tell me? You said you had plenty.”
I leaned back in the couch and munched on a piece of cheese.
“Well, let’s see. Melanie and Bernie obviously had a huge fight. Prunella said they were swearing at each other.”
“That’s it?” She drained the glass and refilled it.
“Well, I guess it was bad enough that Reg thought she was guilty of murder.”
Flori held her glass up as if admiring the red glow – a glow that was beginning to spread up to her face. She swirled the wine and then finished it off in one swig.
“That’s it, Flori, you are finished drinking wine for tonight. You’re worse than Prunella. You better eat the pickles now so you can walk
home, sober.”
“Oh for Pete’s sake, you know I can hold my liquor. By the way, I don’t think anyone can be charged with murder for just arguing with your mate.”
“But I guess you can if you’re telling him that you’re going to kill him.”
Flori’s eyes popped. “She said she was going to kill him?”
I nodded.
“I guess that does make a difference.” She finished off the rest of the cheese, crackers and pickles in silence.
Chapter Ten
My next task was going to be much harder than trying to get Prunella to talk. Someway, somehow, I had to get in to visit Melanie in jail. Not that it’s a real jail. There’s a tiny windowless room at the police station and in it, Reg stashes his worst criminals. The door does look jail-like, however, as it has a small square window in it and the lock is on the outside. There’s barely enough room for one person to turn around but there are two small cots and I know that one time Reg did keep two nasty prisoners in there for a day or so. Mostly, Amos is in there sleeping off a drinking binge. I think Reg puts him there for Amos’ own protection.
Opportunity knocked the next day just before noon. I happened to look out my shop window and saw Reg driving home for lunch. There was no time for procrastinating. I quickly swung my ‘Closed’ sign up and locked the door. Mutt, who has his hardware store next to me, saw me walking past but I didn’t make eye contact. His door opened and he yelled my name but I didn’t miss a step. It’s easier when you’re older and can pretend you’re hard of hearing.
I was walking up to the station door before it struck me that I’d still have to get past the two deputies. If only Scully was there, I might have a fighting chance. There wasn’t much hope getting past both of them.
I slowly opened the door. The reception area was empty. However, there were voices coming from Reg’s office. I slipped into the room, gently closed the door behind me and listened. It was Scully and Jim and as far as I could make out they were fighting over who was going to sit in Reg’s big leather chair. I figured that ought to give me enough time to sneak into the back room.