Marja McGraw - Bogey Man 03 - They Call Me Ace

by Marja McGraw

  While I fixed breakfast I told Chris about my suspicions and about what Marguerite had told her daughter. And I talked to the men in my life about the book. “So in the story the old woman’s granddaughter starts reading the diary she left behind. By the way, the old woman’s name was Summer, which is apparently where the title came from.

  “Anyway, in her diary Summer talks about moving into an old house when she and her husband married. He worked for the railroad and he was gone a lot. When he was home, everything was normal. When he left on a trip, Summer began seeing and hearing things. She knew there was a ghost in the house, but it didn’t seem to be malevolent. It was a man and he seemed to be watching over her.”

  “So she wrote a ghost story?” Mikey asked.

  “Yes, but it was a mystery, too. She determined, from papers she found in the house that the man was murdered when he was in his prime. The crime was never solved, of course, or there wouldn’t be a story. I haven’t read far enough to tell you too much, but apparently Summer found a music box in the house when they moved in, and playing it seemed to have awakened the ghost.”

  “You don’t think there’s a ghost at Grandma and Grandpa’s house, do you?” Mikey asked. Instead of looking

  frightened, he appeared almost hopeful.

  “No, Ace, this is just a story the woman who lived there wrote,” Chris replied. “Don’t forget, Marguerite was an author. And ghosts are fun on Halloween, but they don’t really exist.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Mikey sat forward when I took his plate and covered it with baby pancakes. “These are cool. How come you made them so little?”

  “Just for the heck of it,” I said, passing him the butter and syrup.

  “So, is that as far as you’ve read?” Chris forked a bite of pancake and stuck it in his mouth.

  “Well, Summer decides she wants to solve the man’s murder. That’s as far as I got before you guys came down.”

  “Huh. So you and Dad are going to solve a murder, and so is the lady in the book. Very interesting.” Mikey had put on his grown up face and appeared to be pondering the two situations.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Mikey played with the dogs, Chris mowed the lawn and did a little weeding, and I cleaned the house as much as I could in a limited time. I’d been letting things slide for too long.

  After lunch we took Mikey over to Turnbal House to leave him with his grandparents. I told Judith about the book I was reading and the feeling I had that we hadn’t found the real treasure yet.

  “I’ve got to start reading a copy of the book. This sounds like something totally different from any of Marguerite’s other books. I’ll keep my eyes open for compartments we haven’t found yet, too. To be honest, I didn’t think the jewelry was a big deal either. I mean, it’s worth some money, but somehow all of this doesn’t add up.”

  I heard a tapping sound and walked out to the living room. Mikey, Chris and Chris Sr. were all tapping on the walls.

  Chris saw me and looked embarrassed. “I think you might be right. It seems I’ve got the fever now, too. Guess we’d better get on over to the restaurant, huh?”

  Mikey and Chris Sr. kept tapping, moving their way down the wall. Mikey was having fun with his grandparents. I smiled at my son’s back, but I didn’t disturb his treasure hunt.

  As we were leaving, Coral stuck her head out the front door of Kimberly’s house and waved. I rolled my eyes, knowing they were supposed to be as unobtrusive as possible. If the strange man saw them, he’d hide, I was sure.

  I waved back before putting my index finger to my lips to indicate she should be quiet and go back inside.

  She nodded and disappeared.

  The afternoon was busy at Bogey Nights, but quiet overall, just business as usual. The same couldn’t be said about the evening.

  Coral showed up around six o’clock and asked if we could seat her without a reservation. I could, and I did.

  Carol arrived about twenty minutes later.

  “Oh,” I said. “Your sister is already here. Come on and I’ll show you to the table.”

  She bristled. “Coral is here? Doesn’t it just figure?” She grabbed my arm, pulling me back. “I don’t want to sit at the same table. Do you have another one?”

  “There’s one close to the dance floor, but it gets a little noisy. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to sit with your sister?”

  “Absolutely not! I’ll take the noisy spot.”

  I led her to the table and pulled her chair out for her. “Can I bring you something to drink?”

  “I’ll take an iced tea, and I mean the kind with liquor in it.”

  I nodded and walked over to the bar. “Daniel, the lady at Table Three would like a Long Island Iced Tea. Would you please send it over to her?”

  He nodded and waved the cocktail waitress over.

  Coral waved at me.

  “Yes?”

  “What’s my sister drinking?”

  “A Long Island Iced Tea. Would you like a cocktail?”

  When I originally seated Coral she’d ordered a coffee, black.

  “Bring me a Scotch and water. Make that two. If she’s gonna get liquored up, I might just do the same.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am.”

  Uh oh, I sensed a storm brewing. “Right away.”

  Back at the bar, I said, “Daniel, the lady at Table Ten would like two Scotch and waters. Is there any way you can water that drink and the iced tea down a little?”

  He winked at me. “They’ll never know the difference.”

  I sighed with relief and went in search of Chris. I found him in the kitchen, talking to Chef Luis and Phillip, the sous chef. They were laughing about something.

  I tapped him on the shoulder. “Carol and Coral are here, and they’re drinking. They’re also sitting at separate tables. Would you come out and help me question them about what they saw at the house today? You can take one sister and I’ll take the other.”

  “Dibs on Carol,” he said. “Coral hits.”

  I couldn’t help myself. I laughed.

  Chris approached Carol and she invited him to sit down with her. Coral saw the action and invited me to sit, too. The competition between these two women was ridiculous, and I couldn’t help but wonder where all this animosity came from.

  “Did you or Carol see the man I described to you at the house next door to Kimberly’s place?” I asked.

  She slowly lowered her eyelids and just as slowly raised them before answering me. “Not only did we see him, but I spoke to him.

  “Oh, no,” I said. “You weren’t supposed to approach him, just see if he lived there. Did he know who you were?”

  “Oh, don’t get your knickers in a knot. I very casually

  walked outside and said good afternoon to him. He wanted to know who I was and I told him I owned the property. I told him I was cleaning and getting it ready for the next tenant.”

  I sat quietly, biting my tongue and keeping my mouth shut, but inside I wanted to tell her she couldn’t help us anymore.

  “He fit your description perfectly. The woman in the house is his mother. He doesn’t live there, but he spends a lot of time with her. He didn’t seem at all suspicious after I explained about owning the property.”

  “Okay, I guess no damage was done. Did you find out anything from him?”

  “No damage.” She lifted her hand as though to punch me in the arm like she kept doing to her sister, seemed to think better of it and dropped her hand in her lap. “He asked me if I knew anything about the Turnbal place. I asked him what he meant, and he said he’d heard rumors about the old house. I asked him what kind of rumors, and he clammed up.”

  “Are you sure he didn’t know who you were?” I couldn’t imagine him asking a stranger about the house.

  “I’m sure.” She couldn’t stand it anymore and she poked my arm. At least she hadn’t punched me.

  I poked her back, and she smiled. “I’ve met my match,�
�� she said.

  “And where was Carol during all of this?” If the stranger had seen they were twins, he might have figured out who Coral really was.

  “She’d gone over to talk to Judith. Now she’s mad because I had all the fun. That’s what’s wrong with her tonight.”

  “Ah.”

  Glancing over at Chris, I saw he was pointing our way. I didn’t know what he said, but Carol shook her head and glared at Coral. Chris said something else, and Carol’s

  shoulders sagged. She picked up her drink and headed our way.

  Thunking her glass down on the table, Carol uncharacteristically dropped into the extra chair. She’d dropped her Lady About Town attitude, at least for the moment. “The Bogey Man says we need to work together right now and save our differences for later. After all, we are trying to solve a murder. Truce?”

  The Bogey Man? It felt odd to hear someone else call him by his nickname.

  “He’s right,” I said, agreeing with him. “Right now we need to work together, and that includes you two.”

  The sisters looked at each other, stuck their noses in the air and turned to Chris and me.

  Carol turned back to Coral. “It’s only temporary, and don’t you forget it.”

  “You won’t let me, sister dear. You never let me forget anything.”

  “Coral,” I said threateningly. “Zip it!”

  She looked at me in surprise. “Did you just tell me to zip it?”

  “You heard her,” Carol said.

  “Shut up!” Coral glared at her sister.

  “I mean it, you two. If you want to help with Kimberly’s murder, then we have to work together. So yes, I meant it. Zip it.”

  Coral clamped her lips together and nodded at me.

  “Okay, here’s what I think. I don’t believe your mother’s jewelry is the treasure that everyone has talked about.”

  “But it has to be,” Carol said. “What else could it possibly be?”

  “I think Pamela is right,” Chris said. “She told me about your mother telling one of you that in order to find the treasure you’d need to read her books.”

  “She said that to me,” Coral said.

  “She told me, too,” Carol added.

  Before they could begin an argument about what their mother said to whom, I jumped in. “I don’t care who she said it to. The point is, there may still be something hidden in that house. Did she ever say anything else about the treasure?”

  Carol sat up straighter. “Mother said that since she had some money, and she was a writer, she wanted to turn our home into a mystery house. Dad was all for it. He was a lot of fun.”

  Coral nodded at her sister. “She said it only made sense since she wrote mysteries.”

  “Mother never called her books gothic novels. She always called them mysteries. In fact, she was rather annoyed when others referred to them as gothics.” Carol leaned forward as she spoke, knocking over her Long Island Iced Tea.

  I waved at Daniel, indicating I needed a rag. He brought one over and cleaned up the mess. “Can I get you another drink?”

  Carol looked up at him and batted her eyelashes. “I didn’t really want alcohol anyway. Would you please bring me a regular iced tea?”

  Daniel nodded and left the table to get her drink.

  “You’re shameless,” Coral said. “That kid’s young enough to be your son. Uh, I mean our younger brother.”

  Chris was beginning to fidget. “Would you two dolls please get back on track here? Think back. What else could your mother have in the house that could be considered treasure?”

  “I haven’t got the foggiest,” Coral replied.

  “Not the faintest idea,” Carol said.

  “Were you aware that your mother wrote another book that was never released?” I asked. “It was titled Summer’s Ghost, and it’s more of a mystery than her other books.”

  “Seriously?” Carol looked genuinely surprised.

  “You’re joking,” Coral said.

  Grinning, I poked each sister in the arm. “Gotcha. There’s one last book.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Carol looked thoughtful. “There’s a book we didn’t know about? I can hardly believe it. I thought we had copies of all of Mother’s books. What was the title again?”

  “Summer’s Ghost,” I repeated.

  She opened her mouth but closed it without saying anything. Her eyes darted around the room while she continued to mull over this new information.

  “What’s with you?” Coral asked, leaning over to stick her face in front of her sister.

  “I’m remembering something. You know, Mother tried to start her own publishing company once. She and her publisher had a falling out, and Mother thought she could do better on her own. I know they do that now, but in those days her idea would have been pretty progressive. She had a partner by the name of… I can’t remember. I think it was Bill something or other.”

  “Could it be William Howard?” I asked.

  “Yes, that was it, and he wasn’t her partner. He did something else, now that I’m remembering. It’s coming back to me.”

  “Now that you mention it, I remember Mom talking about it,” Coral said, speaking slowly. She closed her eyes, deep in thought.

  “We were just kids at the time,” Carol said. “I think it was around 1959 or 1960. I know something happened, but I can’t quite remember what the story was. It doesn’t seem to me that the company failed or anything like that.” She looked at Coral expectantly, hoping her sister might remember the information which eluded her.

  Coral remembered. “Mom talked about it when we were teenagers, so I don’t recall a lot of details. The only thing I was interested in back then was Dan Freeman in my history class. I know there was a fire, and everything was lost. Since it was her own business, Mom left the original of almost everything there—manuscripts, contracts, personal papers. She hired her own printer, too, and set him up in the same building. That’s who William Howard was, the printer. He printed a few test copies of some book. If memory serves, she decided the book wasn’t meant to be after the fire and that’s when she retired.”

  Carol smiled. “You’re right. Now I remember. Mother never quite got over losing the money she’d invested. She’d hoped to create a first class business. It seems like she even had some other authors ready to move to her company.”

  “The copies of Summer’s Ghost must have been the test copies she had printed,” Coral said. “How many did you find?”

  I wondered if they’d want them back. “There were five copies stored in a box in the basement. Even after sitting there for so many years, they’re still in new condition. Do you want them back?”

  Carol looked at Coral and they were both quiet for a moment. Coral nodded, seeming to understand an unspoken question.

  “No. We signed a contract telling your mother-in-law

  that when she bought the house, she was buying all the contents, too.” Carol looked almost pained, but she seemed to feel she was making the right decision.

  Chris finally joined in. “How about this? What if my mother gives you each a copy of the book? That’ll still leave her with three copies.”

  “Uh, there’s one other thing,” I said. “One of the books is signed. Would you want that one?”

  Carol’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Mother signed one of the books?” Coral’s expression was unreadable.

  “Is that some kind of issue?” Chris asked.

  Coral laughed. “Oh, you bet it is. I could count the number of books Mom signed on one hand. She – ”

  “Mother had a fear that if she signed books,” Carol interrupted, “someone would copy her signature and steal her money. She only signed a couple of books, and those were for people she trusted completely.”

  “Well, she signed the books she gave Carol and me,” Coral added, “but we’re her daughters. Mom had a few hang-ups, and the signature issue was one of them
.”

  “I suppose one of you Duchesses would like the signed copy?” Chris raised his eyebrows in question.

  Glancing at him, I realized from his expression that he was moving into his Bogey persona. Was he going to try to sweet talk the two women out of the book?

  “You know we wouldn’t try to pull a fast one on you dolls. If you want it, it’s yours, although I double dog guarantee ya that my ma would like it. She’s an egghead when it comes to books, and your ma is her favorite writer. I could probably come up with a grand if you’d let me buy it from you.”

  “A thousand dollars?” What was Chris thinking? We couldn’t afford to give these women that much money for a book.

  Coral shook her head. “Between my sister and me, we have more money than God. We don’t need your money. I just want a copy of the book to read. Carol, what do you think?”

  Carol nodded. “Mother and Daddy left us tons of money, and we both married wealthy men. Unfortunately both of our husbands have passed on, but they left us well-fixed. Your mother can keep the signed copy of the book, with our blessings.” She glanced at her sister. “Besides, God doesn’t need money. He’s probably laughing at you for even saying that.”

  Coral sputtered, unable to think of a sharp reply.

  “She’ll appreciate your generosity,” I said, swinging my head from sister to sister. “By the way, do you know what happened to William Howard?”

  Coral nodded. “Oh, he died a long time ago. He was a good friend of our parents so our mother kept in touch with him even after the fire. He and our father grew up together.”

  “Thanks. I saw his name on some papers and I wondered who he was.” At least that cleared up one question.

  “We’ll pick up our copies of the books when we go back to Kimberly’s house tomorrow,” Carol said. “I can’t wait to see what Mother did with the new book. You said it’s more of a mystery than a gothic?”

  I nodded. “It’s about a ghost and a journal that an old woman’s granddaughter is reading. Well, the journal is supposed to tell a mysterious story about what the grandmother went through when she was young.”