As we approached the bus, I noticed the driver counting people as each one got on the bus. He appeared to be counting noses, or counting legs and dividing by two. I noticed that Miss Friendly rushed by him, and he stepped back as she approached. As Lou and I got on the bus, I did a recount, just to make sure everyone was there. I didn't bother to check the bus's restroom, because it looked like just as many seats were occupied as before. I sat down and turned to Lou, whispered to him.
"You didn't see anyone you didn't recognize, did you?"
"A few."
"On the bus?"
"No, in the restroom. I didn't bother to introduce myself. As you know, restrooms are one of the worst places to make new friends. I saw some unfamiliar faces while I was out and about, too, but I knew we didn't have enough time to make new friends. The young couple walking the dachshund did seem nice, though. I smiled and nodded to them while you were flirting with those two women in our group."
Lou was having too much fun at my expense. I wondered what I could do to get even.
I looked up as the bus was pulling out and saw a man with a limp, hurrying to his car. It looked like the same man I had seen back at the motel. Could he be following us? Maybe he was the one who had the bus driver or Miss Friendly all nervous. I tried to snap a picture of him. I got a good picture of a section of the parking lot and the part of the bus that separates the windows. Lou saw me looking at it. He smiled and suggested that I send it to George, to let him know that I'd used the phone's camera. He knew George would be pleased. I checked my pockets to see if I'd brought any arsenic to stir in a cup of coffee for Lou.
+++
I stayed awake the rest of the trip, spent some of the time reflecting, the rest of it talking to Lou. It took us an hour and a half until we arrived at the first stop mentioned on our itinerary. It's a good thing the bus driver knew where it was. One minute we were riding along through a small town, and the next minute we turned right, rode only a block or so, but it looked like we were out in the country. I was glad Earl knew which one of the buildings was the Farmhouse, because there were a few buildings stretched out over a quarter of a mile, and I knew that at least two of the Applewood buildings were restaurants.
This time Lou didn't have to elbow me when we stopped, and I got up just after he did, stepped off the bus, and looked around. I couldn't believe I was on vacation. I wondered if I would get tired of it before the week was up. I didn't think so. Maybe I could get used to this vacation thing. Being retired meant Lou and I could go on vacation again before the year was over. Maybe even take the girls along. We wouldn't be sharing rooms, so I wasn't sure that if we went if I should offer to pay for Jennifer's room or not. I quit thinking of that as the group headed to the front door of the restaurant.
A couple of minutes later, we were all seated in the same section, but Lou and I made the mistake of sitting down before some of the group did. We took two seats at an unoccupied table with four chairs. The other two were about to be occupied by the two women on whose laps I did my swan dive. Since Lou and I sat on opposite sides of the table, each woman sat down next to one of us.
"You boys mind if we sit here?" said the one who sat down next to me.
"Looks like you're already there."
"Oh, Inez, I like this one. He's funny. I'm Sylvia and this is Inez. And you are...?"
"I'm hungry."
"See how funny he is, Inez?"
"Inez, doesn't talk much, does she?"
"Neither does your friend. So what names do you go by other than hungry?"
"I'm Cy. He's Lou."
"Si. Like Duck Dynasty."
"Huh?"
"Duck Dynasty. The TV show. Don't tell me you haven't seen it."
"If I do does that mean that two of us will have to move?"
"It depends on which two. I wouldn't mind having you all to myself."
"I'm sorry, but I told them before we left the home that I would keep an eye on Lou at all times. He hasn't been out of his straitjacket all that long. They said he could have a relapse."
"Oh, you are a funny one. So, Cy and Lou, is this your first rodeo?"
"Other than the Calgary Stampede."
"So, you haven't been on one of these trips before."
"No. It was a gift from our friends. We just retired."
"I see you're together. You do like girls, don't you?"
"Well, at our age we're more into women, and we've both got one at home. But our friends didn't foot the bill for our girlfriends."
"Inez and I are into Zumba and Pilates. How about you and Lou?"
"No, we're Christians. We don't experiment with other religions."
"See, Inez, didn't I tell you this one's funny. Lou, can you talk?"
"When he lets me. Cy, show them the picture you snapped on the bus, as sort of an ice breaker."
"I have something in mind to break, Lou, but it's not ice."
Luckily, Sylvia got over her shyness and seized control of the conversation again. Only this time she spoke to Lou.
"He does know what Zumba and Pilates are, doesn't he?"
"My guess is no."
"Here, let me show you. No, I'm not going to do anything in the restaurant, but I have my tablet with me. Here. Let me pull it up. Cy, this is Zumba."
I looked at the tablet and then I realized where she was coming from.
"Now, you've seen this before, haven't you?"
"Oh, sure, but where we come from it goes by a different name."
"Oh, what do they call it where you live?"
"I think it's either Pentecostal or Charismatic. I'm not sure which one. We go to a nonexercising church."
"Inez, doesn't he make you want to take him home with you?"
This time Lou interrupted, since he knew that Sylvia asked a rhetorical question.
"He does Wii. There was a video of Cy Wiiing that went viral."
I looked around to see if there were empty seats at any of the other tables. The only empty seat I saw was where the psycho couple was sitting. I decided to remain where I was and take my chances. Maybe sometime during the middle of the night I could sneak into Lou's room and empty an ant farm onto his bed. I planned to check the gift shop to see if they sell ant farms.
I was glad when someone came to wait on us. I figured if Sylvia and Lou had food they would have less time to talk. I tried to remember who picked the table. Lou or me. I made a point to exercise more caution the next time we stopped somewhere to eat.
I didn't think things could get any worse, until our server came up.
"George said to tell you that Big Brother is watching."
"Excuse me."
"George said to tell you that Big Brother is watching."
"George who?"
"Michaelson."
"So, you are George's contact?"
"I don't know about that. He called the restaurant a few minutes ago, told us he was with the police, and asked us to give you a message when you came in."
"And how did you know which one I am?"
She took her cell phone out of her pocket, touched it, made a couple of swipes, and showed me a picture of myself. I made a mental note to send George's picture to the cannibals on Bora Bora.
Message delivered, our server took our drink orders, and spun away to get them. She returned with those and asked if everyone was ready to order. Some people had been having too much fun at my expense, so the answer was "give us a couple more minutes." The next time she came back she set apple fritters in front of us. I moved my water and orange juice off to the side to give her room to set them down. Then she took our orders. I was glad that no one in our group talked with his or her mouth full. I could take their smiles and smacking lips. After all, the apple fritters were worth a smile and smacking lips. Shortly after we finished them, our server brought our orders. There were no new messages from George. I took a bite of everything. Well, just the stuff on my plate, although I was sure that Sylvia would have no problem sharing her food with me. I
gave the food a thumbs up, which was good because I remembered from when I took the itinerary final that we would be stopping here again, provided we lived through the trip. I also remembered that I needed to buy a souvenir for whoever it was who told me to try the apple fritters. But then they were complimentary for everyone. So, did I still have to buy this person a gift?
As I ate, I did my best to look around and study all the rest of our group. If there was to be a murder, I ruled out our group's only two children as either victims or murderers, unless they turned out to be like the boy in The Ransom of Red Chief. A few people in our group stood out as a possible murderer, but only Mrs. Friendly, who didn't seem to be speaking to anyone else at her table, seemed to be nervous. Was she planning something, or did the murderer slide a threatening note her way at breakfast?
12
As I said earlier, I aced the itinerary final. At least as far as the first day was concerned. I merely glanced through the rest of it to see where we would be going, but not learn enough about each place that I could be a docent there. I remembered that the itinerary said that it was only a short distance from the Applewood Farmhouse to the first attraction on our agenda, the Titanic exhibit. The Titanic was far enough back in history that I studied it in history class. Once I graduated from high school, I no longer had any reason for reading the front page of the newspaper or watch the news, so recent history and current events were not one of my strong suits.
Five minutes after we pulled away from the Applewood property, we arrived at the Titanic, and I saw that the ship didn't sink, but had run aground in a parking lot. Evidently no one had mentioned this to my history teacher.
I tapped Lou on the shoulder and cautioned him to hang back. Sylvia had planned the same strategy for herself and Inez, but some gentleman insisted that they get off before him. I wondered if that was enough to take him off my suspect list or if he was sizing them up for the kill. At least he didn't remove a garrote from his pocket once they stepped ahead of him. Besides, he looked like one of the group's more normal passengers.
As I stepped off the bus and tried to hide behind all the other people in our group between myself and Sylvia, I noticed that there were other attractions seeking our money, too. The Titanic was included in our agenda. The other places were not. I wondered if I bought Sylvia and Inez tickets to one of the other places seeking tourists if they would go off on their own and miss the bus.
One place looked intriguing. It was called Wonderworks, and the building housing the attraction appeared to be upside down. Maybe the Titanic flipped it over when it came crashing into the parking lot.
Inez was impatient and grew tired of waiting for the two stragglers who were way in the back, and she convinced Sylvia to walk ahead. Evidently Sylvia felt she could accost us aboard ship, because she headed off with Inez.
Our group walked ahead to get our tickets. I took advantage of the time to talk to one of the men who was traveling alone.
"Tom Jenkins, computer software."
"Cy Dekker, retired."
"Looks like you were fortunate to retire at an early age, Cy. What kind of work did you do?"
"City management."
"Sounds important."
"It was. It looks like they might have to close down the whole city just because Lou and I had had enough."
"Lou?"
"That's Lou. He was my assistant."
"Hi, Tom. I'm Lou. I did all the hard work."
I was thinking of a comeback when it came our turn to pick up our tickets. I remembered that I would be given something with the name of one of the Titanic's passengers on it. I looked at mine. It said John Jacob Astor. I'd heard of him. He was famous for something, but whatever it was I had forgotten from my school days and they didn't give us a refresher course at the police department. I wished I had my laptop with me. I wanted to know if Astor made any money after 1912. I only knew that the Titanic sank then, and when the tide came in the ship ran aground in the parking lot. I didn't actually remember the date the Titanic sank, but there was some information in front of me that was my cheat sheet. But there was nothing telling how it got to the parking lot. Only when it sank. I wasn't too optimistic about Astor's chances of survival. I knew more women and children made it into the lifeboats.
When we got inside I soon learned that we weren't inside of something that was equal in size to the Titanic. Maybe only part of the Titanic sank. I didn't see any of the Titanic movies either, so I didn't know if only part of the ship sank. I just knew that there was an iceberg involved. There was an iceberg in our group, too. I spotted Miss Friendly ahead, and was careful to steer clear of her and the other two who seemed way too friendly.
Over the next couple of hours I got to see a staircase more grand than anything in my house, utensils that cost more than anything in my house, and a replica of a stateroom with a commode that offered no privacy. I also got to steer a ship long after steering it would do no good, and ran my hand across something that resembled an iceberg. I also found out that Astor wasn't one of the lucky ones. But I was fascinated to learn that forty-eight-year-old Astor had a seventeen-year-old wife, who did survive. I guess it was fitting that he died there, because I know he couldn't have survived much longer with a seventeen-year-old wife. As our tour came to an end, I stepped from the ship replica, which just happened to deposit us in the gift shop. I wondered who had thought of that ingenious idea. As I looked at the trinkets, I thought again of Astor and his young wife. Somehow, I couldn't picture myself with a seventeen year-old wife, and then I remembered Heather, who wasn't too many years older than that. Maybe a young wife might not be too bad after all. That thought didn't last long, because I remembered that the woman of my dreams is named Jennifer, and Heather is about to be married to someone else. If only I had let Heather know I was available she might have chosen me instead of Dan.
+++
While the Applewood Farmhouse and the Titanic attraction are mere minutes from each other, in going from one place to the other we had officially traveled from Sevierville to Pigeon Forge without me being able to tell when we left the first and arrived at the second. And we had arrived at Pigeon Forge without encountering any pigeons, which to me was a plus. Pigeons are not among my favorite birds. Maybe I would feel differently if I sent messages. But enough about pigeons. We boarded the bus in the Titanic parking lot and Earl was able to navigate our exit without ramming the Titanic or hitting a iceberg. We were about to head farther into Pigeon Forge. In no way did it look like Hilldale. Lexington, either. It was more of an "if you build it they will come" kind of place, and someone had built one attraction right next to another one for as far as I could see. I couldn't think of anyone I knew who could afford to take in each attraction, or would live long enough to do so. But the next attraction of sorts that we were to visit was more of an attraction to me.
I knew where we were headed. That is, I knew if I was to believe the itinerary. I just had no idea what Mel's Diner looked like. At Wears Valley Road, the bus turned right, and one block later we were at Mel's Diner. I'm not sure if I was surprised or not, but it looked like a diner. Not a ship. Not King Kong. But a diner. With pictures of classic cars painted on the windows. One at a time our fellow passengers stepped down off the bus, lined up horizontally, and pulled out cell phones and digital cameras to take pictures of those windows.
There weren't a lot of windows, so a minute or so later, the lemmings headed up the ramp to the diner. I kept Lou beside me and told him to follow my lead. My goal was to sit across from two people who were in our group who weren't named Sylvia or Inez.
I used a tactic I learned from Sylvia. I was already shoving Lou into one side of a booth as I asked the couple seated on the other side if Lou and I could join them. They seemed as excited to have us as we had been to have Sylvia and Inez.
I apologized to the couple and introduced myself. I let Lou introduce his own self. We quickly learned that our boothmates were Bill and Shirley Richardson of Frankfo
rt, Kentucky. They looked to be somewhere around our age. Both Bill and Shirley worked for the state, but then doesn't everyone in Frankfort work for the state? Bill said he was an engineer, which meant that Shirley did most of the talking. They had two children whose names I forgot almost as soon as she said them, but I did take the time to look at her cell phone and tell her how adorable her grandchildren were. Then she showed us pictures of their children and the spouses. I nodded and smiled, but refrained from telling that her grown children were cute. At least neither of their children looked like someone with a prison record. I found out that Bill and Shirley were on their first bus tour, too. I realized that both of them were very much alive, and neither of them looked like someone who might end another person's life prematurely, which meant that their children might have benefited from heredity and environment. That meant I needed to keep them on my suspect list, the parents, not the children, provided Lou's brain wasn't going all fuzzy from retirement. Lou and I refrained from sharing a lot of information about ourselves, so my guess is that if Shirley had gotten the same message that Lou did, she had kept the two of us very high on her suspect list. I looked around at our fellow travelers between bites of a cheeseburger, French fries, and a banana split. As the last person appeared to finish eating someone looked up and saw that our bus had returned. I assumed Earl had gone through a drive-thru somewhere else, because he didn't join us in Mel's Diner
13
After we boarded while Earl counted, Earl got on and sat down behind the wheel. The bus returned one block to the main road and turned in the opposite direction than the one we had come from. That was good, because I wasn't quite ready to go home. Besides, we couldn't go home until we solved the murder, and we couldn't solve the murder until it happened. Lou and I had learned over the years that we stood a better chance of solving a murder if we knew who had been murdered. And we were thankful that no serial killers ever invaded Hilldale.
Murder in Gatlinburg Page 5