The Mysteries of Bell & Whitehouse: Books 1-3 (The Mysteries of Bell & Whitehouse Box Sets)

by Nic Saint

  He didn’t think so but refrained from commenting. Maggie was wearing her necklace today, the one she bought with money they didn’t have. Yet. Well, that problem would be over soon. He would see to that. And to the funeral, of course.

  Stepping into the inn, he walked up to the desk. It had been ages since he’d set foot in here and a pang of remorse shot through him as he realized he hadn’t talked to his father in over a year. But then both he and Dad had been cut from the same cloth. The strong, silent type.

  He eyed the desk. It was strange to imagine the place without the old man. He’d been such a fixture. Even as a boy coming home from school the first sight that met his eyes was his dad, working the desk and checking in the guests.

  He punched his fist down on the bell and the jangling sound brought back memories of the times he and his buddies would stalk in, ring that bell and then hare off before his old man caught them.

  A barrel of laughs.

  Yeah, right.

  A woman came trotting up and he searched his memory for her name. He cocked a finger. “Suzy, right?”

  The woman pursed her lips in disapproval. She clearly wasn’t a fan. But then no one here was. They all knew he and his sister wanted to sell the place.

  “Your room is ready, Mr. Long.” She turned the registration card around, plunked down the key and waited for him to sign.

  With a sigh he did as instructed and snatched up the key. “Don’t put yourself out, Suzy. I know the way.”

  “I’m sure you do,” she said as she raised her chin and gave him the evil eye.

  He started to walk away, then turned back. “Oh, what room is my sister in?”

  “Eighteen. Right next door.”

  “Has she arrived yet?”

  Suzy shrugged, as if she’d already said too much.

  He raised his eyebrows and wondered what his mother would think of this obvious lack of professionalism and courtesy toward the hallowed guests. But then he and his sister had always played second fiddle anyway.

  “Thanks,” he called out, without expecting or receiving a reply. “Come on, honey. Let’s find our room.”

  Maggie’s smile had dimmed throughout the odd exchange. “She’s not very nice.”

  “They never are in this place.”

  They proceeded up the stairs and down the corridor until they arrived at room eighteen. He gave it a soft rap. “Ruth? You in there?”

  He heard a noise and when the door swung open spirited a grin on his face. His sister looked pale and emaciated, her black hair flat and her usually bright dark eyes sunken and sad. It still felt good to see her.

  “Rob!” she cried and threw herself into his arms.

  “Hey, honey,” he said softly and patted her back. She didn’t just look thin, she felt bony under his fingers. And when he finally disentangled himself he noticed tears in her eyes. His surprise deepened. “What’s wrong?” He looked beyond her into the room. Just the one suitcase, he noticed. Which meant… “Clifford?”

  She shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears. “We broke up.”

  The words were so familiar they didn’t surprise him. Ruth’s relationships rarely lasted more than a couple of weeks. “It’s all right,” he said, though he knew it wasn’t. Then he pointed to Maggie. “Look who’s here.”

  A watery smile appeared on his sister’s gaunt face. “Hey, Maggie.”

  “Oh, honey, you’re crying!”

  As the two women stepped into the room, he carried the suitcases to number seventeen and let himself in with the key. No cards here, only old-fashioned keys. It was the way Dad had wanted it and so it was the way it stayed. He imagined Ruth would unburden herself to Maggie, telling her sister-in-law all the sordid details of her latest break-up.

  He didn’t want to hear it.

  He surveyed the room. It was clean and utilitarian, but it would do for the couple of days they’d spend here. At least until after the funeral. Then he took a deep sigh and steeled himself for the upcoming meeting with Mom.

  Now there was a challenge…

  Chapter 20

  Felicity eyed the man darkly. Not only was he refusing to divulge information necessary for her article, but he seemed to enjoy himself.

  She and Alice had driven up to Hauppage and were seated in the office of the county medical examiner. The toad-like man had folded his hands on his desk and was eyeing them with a sneer on his thick lips.

  “Like I told you, we don’t give out this kind of information to civilians.” He stressed this last word, like he’d done the previous five times he used it. It seemed to be one of his favorite words in the English language.

  “We’re not civilians,” Felicity repeated. “I’m a reporter with the Happy Bays Gazette and I’ve been assigned to write a piece on the murder.”

  “Well, that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a civilian now does it? A reporter is, by definition, a civilian, and so I’m very sorry but I can’t divulge any information pertaining to the case. Maybe you should have called me before making the trip, in which case I could have saved you the trouble.”

  Alice asked, “I’m Chief Whitehouse’s daughter. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

  The man laughed. A deep, rumbling sound. “Honey, if we allowed everyone related to police personnel access to our files we might just as well put everything on the internet.” His face suddenly turned into a scowl. “The answer is no and if you would have bothered to ask your father he would have told you the same thing. In fact he’s the one who warned me you might be dropping by.”

  This was too much, Felicity thought. Chief Whitehouse was actively thwarting her investigation! She turned to Alice. “I don’t think I like my godfather all that much anymore.”

  “Next time he gives you a birthday present, refuse it!” she suggested fiercely.

  The medical examiner rose, a sign the interview was over. “I suggest you take your family problems out of here and leave me to do my job.”

  Felicity, who had learned to be polite under all circumstances, pressed the man’s outstretched hand. “Thank you for your time.”

  A flicker of apology seemed to cross the man’s face. “So you’re the new reporter for the Gazette, huh?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I guess that means I’ll be seeing more of you in the near future.”

  Hope surged. “Do you mean that next time—”

  “I mean that I’ll be seeing more of you,” he stated, then slipped her a piece of paper. She frowned, but resisted the urge to see what it was. Instead, she returned his nod and strode out, a fuming Alice in her wake.

  “What a load of—”

  “He slipped me a piece of paper,” Felicity interrupted and quickly unfolded it. Inside, she found a website and a code. Puzzled, she showed it to Alice. “Wonder what this is.”

  Alice stared at it for a moment, before her face changed into an expression of delight. “You know what this is?”

  “Um. A website?”

  “It’s a file. Look at the extension.”

  “PDF.” Understanding dawned. “He’s giving us access to the report!”

  “He is!” yipped Alice. “Yay!”

  Felicity shook her head, quickly typing the URL into her phone’s browser window. A password prompt popped up and she carefully typed in the code the ME had scribbled down. Ever so slowly, a document appeared. She checked the heading and a wide smile creased her lips. It was Alistair Long’s coroner’s report. She punched the air with her fist. “Yes!”

  “I don’t understand,” said Alice as they strode across the parking lot. “Why didn’t he give it to us straight? Why all the cloak and dagger stuff?”

  “It’s called probable deniability. In case anyone asks he can tell them he never told us a thing. And he didn’t.”

  “Weird.”

  “I wonder if this is how he dealt with Stephen. I’ll have to ask.”

  One thing was for sure. This reporting business was a lot les
s straightforward than the bakery business.

  Alice flipped through the pages. “We’re still going to need someone to explain this report to us, Fee. Looks like a lot of medical jargon to me.”

  “Doesn’t your uncle know about that kind of stuff?”

  Alice nodded slowly. “He might.”

  “And he’s going to have the body soon, so he might be able to tell us more.”

  Not that she wanted to be present when he worked on Alistair Long. Each time she went to Uncle Charlie’s Funeral Delight the place gave her the creeps. How Alice could stand to work there she didn’t know. The contrast with Bell’s Bakery & Tea Room couldn’t be bigger.

  “You know what I’ve been thinking?” Alice asked as they stepped into the delivery van Felicity had borrowed for the occasion.

  “What?”

  “I think we should get you a gun.”

  Felicity looked up in alarm. “A gun?”

  Alice nodded, her face now grim. “Rick was right. We’re dealing with a crazed killer here. Who knows what this guy is capable of?”

  “So now we’ve decided it’s a guy?”

  “It’s always a guy, honey, or at least nine times out of ten, according to my sources.”

  “Wikipedia.”

  “Right. So I got you this.”

  And with a flourish she brought a huge weapon out of her purse and laid it in Felicity’s lap. She jerked up at the sight of the thing and yelped. “What are you doing?”

  “Giving you some protection. Mind you, it’s just a loaner. One of Uncle Mickey’s used ones. But give it a whirl and if you like it we can get you a keeper.” She beamed at Felicity, as if she’d just done her the world’s biggest favor.

  “But I don’t want a gun!”

  “Trust me. You want it. If that guy decides to come after you, you can turn the tables on him.” She grimaced darkly. “He won’t see that coming!”

  “He will! I don’t shoot!” Well, apart from that one time she’d discharged a firearm in Rafi’s Deli, but that had been an emergency.

  “I’ll teach you.”

  “But I don’t want you to teach me!”

  Alice gave her a pat on the shoulder. “That’s settled then. Now drive, honey. We don’t want this case to turn cold before we’ve had a crack at it, do you?”

  Chapter 21

  “I have a little surprise for you, son.”

  Reece eyed his father curiously. After the gun range, he figured he’d had enough surprises for one day and here the old man was about to spring another one on him. “What is it, Dad?”

  The bulky package lay on the table in the cozy but sparsely furnished dining room his father had inhabited for the past forty years. Nothing Reece could say or do had ever convinced Jack Hudson to trade his small house on the outskirts of Happy Bays for a more luxurious one. And for the first time since he’d left to carve out a career for himself in Hollywood, Reece could see why. The place might be cramped and a bit on the spartan side but it had a coziness and a homeliness many of his own properties sorely missed.

  “Just open it!” Dad cried, impatiently gesturing to the package.

  Reece displayed the lopsided grin that had made him such a mainstay with movie audiences the world over and started removing the strips of adhesive tape.

  “Oh, for crying out loud!” Dad grunted, pushed him aside and started tearing at the paper with the impatient gestures that were so typical of the old man. Then, seeming to realize he was spoiling the surprise, he gave the package a gentle nudge in his son’s direction. “Here, the rest is for you. I took care of the hard part.” He grinned. It was a little joke between father and son.

  As a kid Reece loved grapefruit but had trouble removing the skin from the segments, so Dad would take care of that for him, then hand him the flesh on a plate, telling him he’d taken care of the hard part.

  Reece frowned with amusement. He couldn’t imagine what his dad had gotten him. It wasn’t even his birthday, nor was Christmas around the corner. Then, as he peeled away the last layers of paper, he gasped at the sight of what lay within.

  It was…a puppy. The small doggie, perched in a small basket, gazed up at Reece with tender, brown eyes. Then, suddenly, as Reece was still reeling from the surprise, the pup stood on wobbly legs, barked and gave Reece’s face a lick.

  Laughing, he picked it up and held it out in front of him. “He’s lovely, Dad! I thought you said you had Lady spayed?”

  Lady was the family lab and by now quite elderly.

  “She’s not Lady’s,” Dad said. “And yes, he’s a she.”

  Reece, his face wreathed in smiles, hugged the dog close. “This is the nicest gift anyone has ever gotten me, Dad,” he said, and found to his surprise that he actually meant it. “She looks just like Benji, doesn’t she?”

  Dad grinned. “That’s the reason I got her.”

  For as long as Reece could remember he’d missed Benji, the trusty old companion from his childhood days. Dad had bought him the mutt when he was a kid, right after Mom died, and the two of them—and Lady—had grown up together, Benji even walking to school with Reece every day. Then, as Reece got older, he’d had less and less time for the dog, and when he left home for the West Coast, Dad had taken care of Benji. The dog had died a couple of months later and Reece had never forgiven himself for not being there when it happened.

  “How did you know?” he asked.

  Dad shrugged. “I know.”

  He turned to his old man and gave him a half-hearted hug. “Thanks, Dad. This means the world to me.”

  Hudson Senior nodded and seemed a little moist around the eyes. “I just figured…I was down at Peter North’s the other day and he told me about this litter at the Foster place. So I went over there and who would I find but this exact lookalike to Benji. So what with you coming to town and all, I just figured…” He cleared his throat. “Let’s just say Christmas came early this year.”

  Reece cuddled the dog close and the little puppy yapped happily, then jumped onto the table, into his box and waited patiently to be picked up again. “I’m christening you Benji II,” he said, tapping the dog on the nose.

  The dog barked once, and both Reece and his dad laughed. “I think she likes the name, son.”

  “I guess she does.”

  “Do you think, um, Dorothy will like her?”

  Reece looked up. Dad had taken a seat and seemed reluctant to turn the conversation to the elephant in the room.

  “I like her, Dad, and that’s all that matters.”

  Dad chuckled. “I just thought, seeing as how Dorothy is so fond of Pekes, she might object to getting a mongrel.” He shrugged. “Just saying if she doesn’t want her in the house for some reason you can always bring her back to me. Plenty of space around here.”

  Reece took a seat across from his father. “Dorothy will love Benji, I’m sure.”

  “Of course she will,” Dad said with a touch of wistfulness. “Is she—that is to say—are you expecting her soon?”

  “Well, she told me she’s coming. She just needed to take care of a few things in New York. Some last minute stuff.” He swallowed. “Work-related.”

  Dad nodded thoughtfully, drumming his fingers on the table. “They’re keeping her busy, huh?”

  “Yeah, you know how it is.” He remembered the text she sent him earlier. Some craziness about a department store manager she wanted fired. A twinge of doubt assaulted him yet again at the thought of Dorothy coming to Happy Bays. He wanted her to come, to meet Dad. But he had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate the old man for who he was, or the place where he lived. He knew that he himself had long disrespected his humble beginnings and once he’d struck gold had even dissed his small-town past to his new Hollywood friends.

  Now that his career was going well and he didn’t have to worry about his next paycheck he found his thoughts drifting more and more to Happy Bays and the happy days he’d spent here as a kid.

  He patted his dad’s callused
hand. “As soon as she can tear herself away she’ll come down, Dad, and she’s gonna love it here. I just know she will.” Dad nodded and took out an iPad. Reece’s jaw dropped at the sight of it. “I—I didn’t know you were into technology, Dad?”

  “Oh, sure I am. These days you have to be. I even have the Wi-Fi now.” He put on his reading glasses and frowned at the display, which came to light with an abundance of color. Reece swallowed when he saw Dad had Dorothy’s Facebook page open. “Let’s see,” he muttered, then looked up. “I’ve been following your girl closely, Reece. Ever since you got engaged…” He frowned at the screen. “She’s at some place called The Crichton, having liqueurs with a girl called Avril, and she’s complaining that…” He squinted as he read. “…‘the service sux a** and if I don’t get something to eat soon I’m gonna die! #ripoff #NewYorkSux #partyhardbitches.’” He stared at a mortified Reece over his half-moon glasses. “That urgent work stuff seems pretty serious if you ask me, son.”

  Chapter 22

  Felicity gulped as she entered Charlie’s Funeral Delight. It was not her favorite place and she’d rather have a very painful bikini wax than have to come here. But then Alice had received an urgent message from her uncle that ‘the body was in’ and urged her to join him so he could get to work.

  The family had opted for an open casket funeral, and since Alistair had apparently fallen on his face after being shot, all of Uncle Charlie’s skills were required to make him presentable.

  She walked past the showroom with its display of caskets and followed Alice to the back, where the prep room was located. She knew the place well. Not too long ago Alice had found it appropriate to prepare her friend for a date by applying Uncle Charlie’s make-up in that exact room. It was also where they’d discovered five strays Alice’s uncle had taken in. The quintet was now a fixture of Stanwyck Street 41.

  “Do you think I should be here for this?” she asked again. Just hearing the creepy Muzak Uncle Charlie insisted on playing had her stomach turning cartwheels.