Mike Befeler Paul Jacobson Geezer-lit Mystery Series E-Book Box Set: Retirement Homes Are Murder, Living with Your Kids Is Murder, Senior Moments Are Murder, Cruising in Your Eighties Is Murder

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Mike Befeler Paul Jacobson Geezer-lit Mystery Series E-Book Box Set: Retirement Homes Are Murder, Living with Your Kids Is Murder, Senior Moments Are Murder, Cruising in Your Eighties Is Murder Page 41

by Mike Befeler


  “Absolutely. Please tell me what you can.”

  Lavino looked like he had tasted a lemon. Then his face relaxed. “Why not? We traced the license number to a local artist named Mallory Pitman. His landlady reports he’s gone out of town. Since this isn’t a big enough crime to waste any more time on right now, we’re not pursuing him.”

  “But I’m anxious to see the culprit caught. And Benjamin Slade? Did you nab him as the bank robber?”

  “Awfully inquisitive today, aren’t you, Mr. Jacobson?”

  “I gave you a good lead and want to make sure you followed up on it.”

  “Thanks for your concern. We’re working the case.”

  “You keep after him, Detective. And how about Katherine Milo’s father? I provided a lead there as well. Any luck?”

  “We’re still trying to track him down.”

  “So, Detective, I’ve provided you with all this useful information. Don’t you think it’s time to stop harassing me?”

  He smiled. “No. I enjoy our conversations far too much. I can’t wait for our next encounter. Besides, there is still the matter of two murders. Any parting words for me?”

  “Keep investigating people in that slimy retirement property outfit. And if I have any new information, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “We’ll be speaking soon, Mr. Jacobson.” He stood up and headed toward the door.

  Just then Jennifer burst through the door. “Hi, Detective Lavino. Say, we have something to give to you.” She dashed upstairs and returned moments later to drop an object in Lavino’s hand. “Here’s a recording of the two boys admitting they lied about my grandfather at the game night.”

  “And one last thing, Detective. If you’ll check on it, you’ll find that someone has confessed to stealing the money at the swim meet bake sale.”

  He turned back toward me. “As I said, these are all minor issues compared to the murders.”

  “I know. I only want to set the record straight.”

  * * * * *

  That evening I told Jennifer we needed to have a conference.

  “Cool. I’ll grab a snack, and we’ll adjourn to my office.”

  I regarded the back of her head as she bounced into the kitchen. Damn wannabe lawyers.

  In Jennifer’s room I sat down. “We’re making good progress on a number of my so-called crimes, but the two killings remain unsolved. Both Lavino and Detective Hamilton from Denver are most anxious to pin those two murders on me and throw me in the clink.”

  Jennifer placed her index finger on her chin. “Let’s both read through your journal again.”

  “Good idea.”

  I retrieved my stack of paper and with a few off-limits sections covered up, reviewed the material with Jennifer.

  Once I’d read it through, I dropped the sheets of paper onto Jennifer’s desk. “I don’t have any fresh insights here.”

  “I can see why the detectives want you, Grandpa. No one else appears as suspicious as you.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  Jennifer shrugged. “Only being realistic. If I were Detective Lavino, I would wonder about you since you were the only one near both crimes and you argued with the victims ahead of time. We both know you’re innocent since you don’t know any super karate, so we have to figure out who else it could have been.”

  “Previn presents another alternative. He was on the plane with me. He’s trained in martial arts. He could have sneaked up and whacked Reynolds while everyone else slept.”

  “That’s possible. And Swathers died from a lethal blow. Previn has the right skills for both murders. But he has the alibi of being at the library at the time Swathers was killed in the Community Center parking lot.”

  “Unless there were two assailants.” Then a thought occurred to me. “Or if Previn wasn’t really at the library.”

  “Your journal indicates that Detective Lavino and you both verified that Previn had been at the library.”

  I slumped back in the chair. “That’s right. Still, Previn remains the best lead we have. Maybe I can find something to break his alibi. I need to confront him again.”

  “You tried at the Kinetic Conveyance Race.”

  “I need to find another neutral site where I can accost him. From what I read he never answers his phone. Strange that the head of sales is so hard to reach.”

  “Let’s see what we can find on the Colorado Mountain Retirement Properties web site.” Jennifer pounded on her keyboard, and shortly a picture of a modern building surrounded by white-capped mountains appeared.

  “That’s a fake picture, if I ever saw one,” I said.

  “Be patient, Grandpa. Let me search through their site.”

  She clicked away and finally tapped the screen. “Here’s something. Previn is hosting a promotional event next Saturday night at the Millennium Harvest House Hotel here in Boulder.”

  “You’d think that AARP would have shut those guys down by now.”

  “It’s open to the public, so you can attend, Grandpa.”

  “Yes. I’ll have an opportunity to see Previn in action. Then I’ll have a friendly little chat with him.”

  “Be careful. If he’s a murderer, he could be dangerous.”

  “I should be safe in a crowded room. I’ll avoid ending up in a dark alley with him.”

  “Okay, let me read you the details. It starts at seven P.M. with a drink and dessert bar, followed by a presentation and entertainment. Wow. There’s also a raffle. They’re giving away a prize of two tickets for an Alaskan cruise.”

  “If I win, I can take my lawyer.”

  Jennifer pursed her lips. “No, if you win, I think you should take Marion. You two deserve some time with each other.”

  “I suppose you’re right. I’m no spring chicken.”

  Jennifer gave me her lawyerly stare. “You and Marion should get together.”

  “You branching off into the matchmaking business as well?”

  “Yes. Now that you’ve intelligently reduced your girlfriends to one, Marion would be the perfect cruise companion for you.”

  “You trying to get me to make Marion an honest woman?”

  “I think she’d welcome the opportunity.”

  “But I don’t know if she can put up with me.”

  “Grandpa, if Mom, Dad and I can do it, so can Marion.”

  “I’ll consider it.”

  “When Marion comes back through Boulder, you two should discuss your future.”

  “At my age, my future could be twenty minutes.”

  “Oh, Grandpa. You’re going to be around for many more years. You might as well have a companion.”

  “You sound like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

  “No. I like having you here. But it would be better for both you and Marion if you lived together.”

  “You’re sounding like one of Previn’s salespeople.”

  “Only this is legitimate and good for you.”

  “I’ll see. This all remains academic until I can clear myself of the murders.”

  She crossed her arms and leveled her gaze at me. “We’ll make that happen. You talk to Marion when she visits.”

  I could see why Jeremy Wilkins had caved in and confessed to stealing the bake sale money.

  * * * * *

  The following Wednesday I received two phone calls. Nate Fisher invited me out to dinner on Thursday night. I readily accepted. Then within the hour Marion telephoned.

  “Paul, I’ll be passing through Boulder on Friday.”

  My heart jumped. I didn’t know if it was love or fear of pressure from Jennifer. “That’s great news. How’d you like to join me for a romantic dinner for two?”

  “That would be wonderful. I’ll be at the Days Inn again.”

  “I’ll be by at six.”

  “I’ve missed you, Paul.”

  “I’ve missed you too, Marion. I’ll see you on Friday.”

  After I hung up the phone, I stood ther
e contemplating my strange existence. First, nothing planned, now I had engagements for Thursday, Friday and Saturday. Would I live through all three events?

  Chapter 16

  On Thursday evening a horn beeped, and I raised myself up from Denny’s couch to open the front door. A brown Buick idled at the curb. “My chariot has arrived,” I announced to my family. “I’ll be back by 4 A.M.”

  “Earlier than that, I trust, Paul,” Allison called back without looking up from her Sudoku puzzle.

  When I reached the car, I saw a woman in the passenger’s seat, so I climbed in the back seat.

  “Helen and I both wanted to take you out to dinner,” Nate said.

  “And here I thought we were going to have a bachelor outing.”

  “How have you been, Paul?” Helen asked.

  “Still alive.”

  We pulled into the parking lot at the Broker Inn.

  “I like that this place serves a huge bowl of shrimp for appetizers,” Nate said. “They’re the kind you have to peel.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said. “I find shrimp most appealing.”

  Helen groaned.

  “Hey,” I said. “That’s why Nate offers better companionship for you. He doesn’t tell dumb jokes.”

  We sat in a corner booth and soon loaded up with shrimp.

  Nate cleared his throat. “Paul, we invited you here because we have an announcement to make.”

  “I know. You’re going to kick me out of the Senior Center for telling bad puns.”

  “No, something very important.” Helen held out her left hand. “Notice anything special?”

  “Your fingers appear very clean.” Then I spotted the rock. “There’s a diamond!”

  “Yes. Nate and I are engaged.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned.” I reached across the table and gave Nate’s hand a thorough shake. “Congratulations. This calls for a celebration.” I waved to a passing waiter. “We need a truckload of bubbly here.”

  When the champagne arrived, we had a round of toasts.

  “And, Paul, thank you for bringing us together,” Nate said.

  “I’m delighted. What a whirlwind romance.”

  “It was love at first sight,” Helen said.

  “And both being avid gardeners didn’t hurt either,” I said.

  We ate a fine meal. I patted my stomach, as a result of one fewer trout in the wild, and settled back to watch the glow in the eyes of Nate and Helen.

  “You really should find a good woman,” Helen said over dessert.

  “I already have. She’s coming to visit tomorrow.”

  * * * * *

  When I returned home, I found Denny sitting alone in the living room.

  “Seems so quiet here. Allison given up on her puzzles?”

  “Yes. She finished her puzzle book and has sworn not to start another.”

  “We’ll see how strong her willpower is.”

  “Dad, I want to talk to you.”

  I settled down into a chair. “Fire away.”

  “My tests come back tomorrow.”

  “Tests?”

  “Yes. I went through a whole battery of scans to see if I’m developing any memory problems.”

  “You’ve been worried that you’d end up with a mushy brain like mine.”

  “I have been concerned that my memory is failing.”

  “It’s a matter of seeing what the tests indicate.”

  “What if there’s a problem?”

  “Son, the one thing I’ve learned in all my years is that there’s no sense worrying when there’s no confirmed evidence yet. Get a good night’s sleep and see what the medics report back tomorrow.”

  He sighed. “I guess you’re right, but it has been on my mind.”

  “See, if you can remember that you’re worried, you’re still in fine shape. It’s when you forget you’re concerned that you have a problem.”

  “Thanks, Dad. I guess I’ll head upstairs now.”

  I watched him stroll away. My perverse logic seemed to have helped. I just hoped that Denny wouldn’t have to suffer memory loss.

  * * * * *

  Late Friday afternoon, Denny burst through the door.

  “My tests came back. They’re all negative!”

  Allison came up and gave him a hug. “That’s great news.”

  I let out a sigh of relief.

  “Yes. I have no unusual problems. I’ve been experiencing normal memory loss according to Dr. Johnson. He suggested I exercise regularly and watch my diet.”

  I came over and patted Denny on the back. “See. You can inherit my good traits, not the bad. You need to plan to come on walks with Max and me to stay in shape.”

  “Let’s celebrate,” Denny said. “Mama Mia is playing at the Denver Performing Arts Center. I’m going to call to make reservations for all of us.”

  “Count me out,” I said. “I have a hot dinner date tonight.”

  Denny scrambled over to the phonebook, thumbed through it and then punched in some numbers on the telephone. “I’d like to reserve three tickets for tonight’s performance.”

  His shoulders suddenly slumped. “Sold out? Could you check to see if anyone has cancelled at the last minute?”

  He drummed on the phone stand.

  Then he shot erect. “There are? Great. I’ll take three seats. Here’s the Visa number.”

  When he hung up the phone, he had a huge smile. “We’re in luck. I reserved three tickets.”

  * * * * *

  Denny, Allison and Jennifer all charged off to prepare for the event, and I ambled toward my room to take a shower and spruce up for my date with Marion. I admired the picture on my dresser. So Jennifer thought Marion and I should be together. Marion was a very attractive woman. Damn. If only I could remember her day-to-day. Would she really tolerate an old poop like me?

  After a good scrubbing, I donned a clean pair of brown trousers, a fresh striped long-sleeve shirt and my sports jacket. I admired myself in the mirror. Not bad for an old fart. Marion and I would make quite a pair.

  My family scrambled out the door, and I called for a cab. On Denny’s advice, I had booked a reservation. He had warned me of the expense of his recommended choice, but hey, what else did I have to spend money on other than the one woman now in my life?

  When I arrived at the Days Inn, I spotted Marion standing next to a younger woman. I noticed the resemblance.

  “Paul, I want you to meet my daughter, Andrea.”

  I took her hand and she pulled in close and gave me a hug.

  “I’ve heard so much about you, Paul.”

  “Don’t believe any of it,” I said.

  I stepped back and looked at her intelligent brown eyes, light brown hair in a flip, even white teeth and friendly smile. She and Marion made a striking pair.

  “What do you two have planned tonight?” Andrea asked.

  “We’re dining at the Flagstaff House, the restaurant that overlooks Boulder. It comes highly recommended.”

  “I’ve heard of it. It’s supposed to be one of the best restaurants in town.”

  “Nothing but the best for your mother.”

  We waved goodbye and stepped into the cab.

  “Take us to the Pearl Street Mall,” I instructed the cabbie. I turned toward Marion. “My family went into Denver for a theater performance tonight so I have the run of the city—un-chaperoned.”

  “We’ll have to make the most of it,” Marion said with a coy smile.

  “Since we have a little time before our reservation, I thought it would be nice to take a stroll on the mall. We should be able to see some interesting street performers and displays there.”

  “There’s an art exhibit going on,” the taxi driver said. “An excellent display of Boulder modern.”

  “You very familiar with art?”

  “Oh, yes. I have a PhD in art history.”

  I shook my head. Only in Boulder.

  When we arrived, I paid the cab driver and said,
“If you want another fare, we’ll meet you here in thirty minutes and give you a full report on the exhibit.”

  The man gave me a smile behind a full gray beard. I noticed that he had a shiny bald head and wore a pair of oval-shaped silver-rimmed glasses. “Look for the Pitman’s. He does superb work. I’ll be back for you.”

  Something clicked. “Did you say Pitman?”

  “Yes, Mallory Pitman. He’s an up-and-coming local artist. Does environmental sculpture.”

  I’ll be damned. Just the guy I wanted to track down.

  We strolled along the mall as an early summer stream of tourists, locals and gawkers surged by.

  “Look at all the colorful flowers,” Marion said as she squeezed my hand. Brick-lined squares contained a vibrant mix of colors. I thought of the gardening-maniac couple I had brought together. All was well in the universe. Sort of.

  Up ahead, the pulsating mob coalesced into a stationary assemblage. We had arrived at the art exhibit. Marion snuggled up against me as we sauntered through the various displays of watercolors, oils and pastels when suddenly, in front of us, materialized the most God-awful modern sculpture I’d ever seen. Mounted on a puke-green wavy platform that looked like seasick waves, stood a row of silver-coated fir trees. Mallory Pitman had taken Nate Fisher’s trees, plus some others selected from around town, and turned them into the tin man’s frozen forest. I shook my head in disbelief. Pushing through the mass of onlookers, I accosted a man with wild red hair, silver-speckled black pants and a torn T-shirt.

  “Are you the artist who created this monstrosity?” I asked.

  He glared at me and thumped his chest. “I’m Mallory Pitman.”

  “I wanted to make sure.” I turned and walked back to Marion.

  “I need to check out a couple of things,” I told her.

  “Fine. I’ll explore the rest of the exhibit and meet you back here in fifteen minutes.”

  I needed to get word to Lavino that the elusive Pitman had returned. I spotted a blue uniform and strode over to the officer. “I’d like to report a suspect in a theft.”

  The officer gaped at me and pointed to a decal on his shoulder. “I’m an animal control officer. I’m searching for a stray dog.”

  “Damn. I need to reach Detective Lavino of the Boulder Police Department.”

  “I can help you with that.” He unhooked a cell phone from his belt and punched in some numbers. “Please connect me with Detective Lavino.”

 

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