by DK Herman
"It's a nice place that Hank's got." George spoke for the first time since I got in the car.
"Looks like it." I agreed, speeding up again.
A little further, I turned off the highway and followed a small, black topped road for a half mile.
"There, on the left." George pointed at a large, ranch style house.
It looked gray or light blue in the car headlights. George told me to pull around the back. The entire house was pitch black.
"I know I left the back-porch light on." He sounded puzzled. “I always do.”
"The bulb might have burned out," I said, squirming in the seat. I had drunk way too much iced tea. "Can I use your bathroom before I go? I’ll help you change the bulb before I leave.
"Sure." He got out of the car and scratched his head. "Would you mind helping me, find my house key first?"
"Where is it?" It was almost pitch black out. I hoped we could find it.
"It's in a fake rock, in the flower bed." He bent at the waist searching. "It's gray and big as my fist."
I got my cell out of the car and lit up the screen. I moved a few feet down the flower bed. Bending over, I shone the light underneath George’s azaleas. No big, gray rock, so I kept looking. I was searching under a window, about ten feet from where I started and was overwhelmed by the smell of rotten eggs. The window near my head had been left open about an inch. The smell was coming from inside George’s house. I sniffed again. I knew that smell from Chitty, whenever I lit the stove.
"Uh, George. Do you use propane in your house?"
"Yeah, I got a three-hundred-pound tank for the stove and furnace. Why?"
"Get back, away from the house! Hurry!" I was already moving and to my relief, I could hear George doing the same.
"Where we going?" George asked, breathing heavily. "What's wrong, Hallie?"
"Gas," I said when we were away from the house “I think your house is filled with gas. I could smell it, coming out of that little window."
"A lot?" He sounded scared.
"Enough,” I said. “It’s a leak or something. We need to call for help. I'm afraid to even start the car. It’s only a few feet from that window."
"I guess we have to." I heard him take a big gulp of air. "Dang, it must be a leak. I have the tank and lines checked every fall when I get the furnace cleaned. So, it’s about due."
I dialed 911, and explained the situation. I gave them the address and George and I went to a neighbor’s home and waited. With flashing lights and sirens, help arrived quickly. George and I returned to his backyard. We stayed back by the rear edge of his property while the firemen got into his house. They found the back door unlocked and opened all the windows and doors. After a while, they brought in fans to clear the air inside the house.
Andy Ross showed up in his cruiser and spoke to the firemen. He found us still waiting for the all clear and came over.
"It's going to be alright now, but you have to be more careful, Mr. Murphy,” Andy scolded gently. "Two of your stove burners were on but not lit."
"I haven't used my stove in weeks." George looked insulted. "I don't even have any food in the house." He looked at me, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke. "I've been eating every meal with Susie. We eat at her place, or I take her out."
I patted him on the shoulder, not knowing what to say. I knew he spent every waking moment with Gram. But stove burners didn't turn themselves on.
George walked away from us, towards his home. He looked a little shaky.
"Should he sleep here tonight?" I was worried about him. He was elderly and very upset.
"Can you put him up for the night?" Andy looked hopeful. I could tell he wanted to get out of here.
"Sure," I said, but I didn’t know what Gram would say. "Is it safe to start the car? I'll take him home with me."
"Yeah, go ahead."
"Thanks Andy. See ya."
I walked over to George, expecting an argument over sleeping at my house. Then I got an idea. He could sleep in Chitty after I turn off the gas.
I told George the plan, and he agreed. We drove back and parked Aunt Jeannie's car where we found it. I found an outlet in the garage and ran the power cord through a window so there would be lights in the RV. Then I led George into Chitty's side door. After showing him how the lights, windows, and the bathroom worked, I made up the kitchen bed for him. It was the most comfortable. George was snooping around, fascinated with everything, while I got an extra blanket out of the linen cupboard and handed it to him.
"There's a couple bottles of water in the fridge and snacks in the cupboard over the sink. Help yourself," I said.
"Thanks for your help tonight but...." George looked down, shaking his head.
I was exhausted, but the poor guy looked so forlorn. "What's the matter George?"
"You're a detective, right?"
"Yes." I started getting an idea, where this was going.
He was silent a few moments, still looking at the floor. “I want to hire you to find out what happened at my house tonight."
I bit my lip. It didn’t bother me that it was a different kind of case than what I used to work. I just wasn't sure if there was anything to investigate. People made mistakes, and everybody forgot things from time to time.
"Hallie." George seemed to read my mind, and looked me straight in the eye. "I did not leave my stove on, and I always lock my doors."
"OK." I nodded. "But I can't take your money. Instead, you can help me investigate."
A relieved smile spread across his face. "Just tell me, what to do."
"We'll talk about it tomorrow." I put a hand on his shoulder. "We'll go back to your house in the morning. I want a look around in the daylight." I yawned. "Get some sleep. And George can you do me a favor?"
"Anything."
"Aunt Jeannie is leaving around nine thirty in the morning.” I looked at my watch. It was almost two a.m. "I don't want her to worry about anything and ruin her trip."
"I'll stay in here, quiet as a mouse, until you come and get me." He looked around again. "I've never been in one of these before. I like it."
"Sleep tight." I gave him a tired smile, and left to find my own bed.
FOUR
The alarm I had set on my phone, woke me at eight o'clock the next morning. Yawning, I headed for the shower. I was disappointed, I’d missed out on a chance to use my tub the night before. But I was so tired when I got to my rooms, I would have fallen asleep in the tub and drowned. All I’d managed was to get my jeans and bra off before collapsing into bed.
A half hour later, I was dressed in jeans and a royal blue tee shirt. My butt was dragging, and the day was cloudy. I could smell coffee as I headed for the kitchen. Gram found me, cup in hand, reaching for the pot.
"Sorry I didn't wait up last night, dear. I didn't hear you come in."
"That's OK, Gram." I gave her a hug.
"What time does George want you to pick him up this morning?" Gram handed me the hazelnut creamer.
She was jonesing for George, already this morning. It was sweet, but it was a complicated answer. I didn’t know how she would react to what happened at George's last night, and I didn't know if Aunt Jeannie was within earshot.
"I told him, I would get him after Aunt Jeannie left," I said, pleased to be telling the truth. I didn’t lie to my grandmother very well.
Liv handed me a plate of eggs, bacon and buttered toast. "Eat it all," she said.
"Have some juice this morning, too,” Gram said. "You look tired."
I sat in the sunroom, eating my breakfast and watching Rupert, outside bullying the other two dogs. Why did they put up with it? If I were them, I’d give Rupert a bite in the ass. Gram saw me watching and went outside to scold the little beast. When she picked Rupert up and took him in the kitchen door, I ducked outside.
The sky was thick with dark gray clouds, moving slowly west to east. I wanted see my two fur buddies and share my bacon. Judging by the speed of their wagging tai
ls, they were happy to see me. When the bacon was gone, I threw a ball for them to chase a couple of times.
Then I went in search of my aunt to say my goodbyes. I found her in the foyer, an overnight bag over her shoulder. Gram was fussing, nervous to see her leave. They both looked relieved to see me.
"I wish you would let someone take you to the airport." Gram told her.
"I'll be fine, Mom. Don't worry, I’ll have my cell with me. Text me, anytime you want." Aunt Jeannie hugged Gram, then me.
We walked her to her car and waved until she was out of site.
"Can I come with you to get George?" Gram asked eagerly.
"Um, yeah. About George." I steered her to the porch swing and had her sit down. She stared at me open mouthed while I told her what happened at George's last night.
"He's in your bus thing?" Her eyes looked to Chitty, but there was no sign that anyone was inside.
"It's called an RV, but yes, he spent the night there." I started walking to the side of the garage where Chitty was parked. Gram followed beside me.
As we drew closer I froze, holding my breath, when I heard George yelling inside the RV.
"I’m serious. Stay the hell away from me, or you’ll be sorry,” he said.
Crap! He was right, somebody was trying to hurt him! I calculated how fast, I could run up to my bedroom closet for my gun. It was too far away. Whoever was in there with George, could hurt or even kill him before I got back. I motioned for Gram to go back into the house and mouthed, "Call 911,” and I flattened myself against the side of the RV.
"I mean it, damn you. I have a shoe, and I'm not afraid to use it!" George's voice was louder now, even more scared.
A shoe? What in the merry hell, did he think a shoe was going to do? I peeked in a window, and saw George brandishing one of his shoes at an invisible opponent.
I opened the door, and George jumped a foot in the air. Gram rushed past me and stomped down hard on something.
"He's afraid of spiders," she explained and gave George a hug. "Are you alright, Darling?"
"That one was huge!" George declared, still waving the shoe. "Didja see it. And the damn thing was coming right at me."
“I saw, dear. You were very brave,” Gram said, throwing her arms around George.
I leaned against Chitty, breathing hard with a hand over my eyes, waiting for the adrenaline rush to subside.
Gram insisted George eat before we left. He had to talk her into staying home, assuring her that we wouldn't be very long. I didn't want to drive his car, so we took Chitty. I could have gotten a better look at Hank's on the way, but lost in thought, I forgot to look.
The sky was still threatening rain as I pulled into George's driveway. I parked around the back, stopping George before he could get out of his seat.
"A few questions first,” I began. "Do you always park in the back and use that door?"
"Yep, always. I leave the porchlight on every time I leave, in case its dark when I get home. The front door is for company that I don't know very well."
"Does anyone else know about the key in the fake rock?" I was just going through the motions to make Gram happy. I really thought, George might be getting forgetful.
"Just Susie,” He answered, shifting his gaze away from me. His face looked tense. "Now you."
I wondered why that question made him uncomfortable but let it go for now. "Let's go look around. I go first. Stay behind me and don't touch anything until I tell you, you can.
The firemen had been all through the house. That decreased the possibility of finding any usable evidence, but I didn't tell that to George. I wanted him to feel better and forget about last night. However, I planned on keeping an eye on his mental state. He was dating my grandmother and drove her places sometimes. I didn't want anything to happen, to either of them.
I circled the house, examining the exterior for any sign of forced entry. The firemen had found the back unlocked, but George seemed happy I was checking.
I found nothing suspicious in the front, on the sides, or around the attached garage. In the back, I stopped at the window where I first smelled gas. There was a smudge of mud on the siding about two feet below the window.
"Do you leave this window open?" I asked.
"My wife used to open it when she was working in the kitchen." He stopped to think. "I haven't had it open in a while. But the lock's been broken for a long time. I’ve been meaning to get around to fixing it."
I climbed up the three steps to the small, cement back porch and looked around. There were two plastic lawn chairs facing the back yard. One of the seats had a smeared, muddy foot print. I took out my phone and took a picture.
George insisted that he’d left the porch light on when he left. I put my hand up inside the frosted globe to check the bulb. It was loose, so loose that one more turn and it dropped into my hand. I screwed the bulb back in and the light came on.
"When did you last change this bulb?" I asked him, flicking a small spider off my hand.
"Last month,” George answered after jumping back three feet.
I stepped on the offending arachnid and let myself in the backdoor.
Inspecting the stove first, I noticed that it was very clean. Was George a neat freak, or was its pristine condition from non-use? I noticed that to turn on a burner, you had to push in and turn the knob at the same time. It made it more difficult to turn on a burner on by accident.
Next, I went to the window that was open last night. It was situated between the stove and refrigerator with a few feet of counter space in between. Closed now, the window’s lock was broken as George had said. I tried to be indifferent when I found another muddy footprint on the countertop. This one was dry and more detailed than the one on the chair outside. I asked George for a ruler and took another picture.
I snooped around the rest of the house, not really finding much of interest. But, I now knew more about George. He was fairly, but not compulsively neat. He liked to read both magazines and books. He seemed to enjoy his root beer, and he bought bug spray by the case.
There were pictures of his deceased wife in the house. To my surprise, I remembered her from when I was a kid. She’d worked in the elementary school cafeteria. A nice lady, she always smiled a lot.
I told George to pack a few things because I wanted him to spend another night in Chitty. He quickly tossed some clean clothes and toiletries in a plastic bag, and we were sitting in Chitty a few minutes later. I told George, I wanted him out of his home as a precaution. I told him I wasn't convinced that there was someone who wanted to hurt him. Truthfully, I wasn't sure, there wasn't either. And I had the feeling there was something he wasn't telling me. I decided to tackle that now.
"When I asked you about your house key, I don’t think you weren't telling me everything,” I blurted. I was too tired to be tactful.
George sighed. "I guess, I wasn't. But I don’t want Susie to be upset.
"What are you talking about?" I fiddled impatiently with Chitty's keys.
"My son..." George began, "doesn't think much of me having a girlfriend. He said I must be getting senile and wants me to go to his doctor and get checked. Then maybe even, go in a home." He took a white, cloth handkerchief out of his back pocket and wiped his eyes. "He's just worried about his inheritance. Mary and I saved every dime we could, and the house is free and clear." He sniffled. "I even banked her life insurance money."
I didn't know what to say. I felt bad for George, not liking the look of pain and fear on his face. And then, what he meant hit me. "Do you think he would do something like this, to prove his point with a doctor?"
"He knows about the key in the rock." He wiped his eyes again before blowing his nose, and he put the handkerchief away. "My daughter, who lives in California, is happy for me that I found your Gram. But Ryan, has always been greedy. He’s always been worried about what I do with my money."
"Where does your son live?" I asked. Perhaps, I should go talk to this asshole. I
guess he didn't know that Gram has no need for George's money. She has plenty of her own.
"Tyburg,” He answered. "He's been here five times this month. Leaves me angry notes on my fridge when he finds me not home."
"I'll talk to him for you,” I offered.
"Let's wait and see what you find out first." George buckled up. "We gotta get back to Susie."
"I'm making a stop at Doc's first. I want to invite her for supper. It's not far from here."
"She's a good kid.” George nodded.
I only told George, I wanted to invite Doc to supper. That was true, but I also wanted to talk to a physician. I needed more information on the process of placing someone in a nursing home. Doc would know how to sort this out, and she could discretely assess George, too. If George was still capable, I couldn’t let anyone put him in a nursing home. It would hurt Gram badly. Not to mention a son committing his father to a nursing home for money, kinda pissed me off.
Doc lived in a hundred-year-old farmhouse with gold siding and brown trim. As a kid, I always hated the place. Gabi and I visited here rarely, not liking the unfriendly vibe radiating from the house, and her mother. Because Doc's mother was quite nasty to Gabi and me, Doc would meet us somewhere else. When we were ten, Mrs. Shuman called us a pair of rotten little bitches, when Doc objected, she was grounded for a month.
Doc was twelve when her father, a long-haul truck driver, suffered a heart attack and died along a Texas highway. Doc was devastated, and her mother became more withdrawn and nasty. Poor Doc seemed lost and alone, crying constantly. Her hair was never washed or combed and her clothes were dirty. Doc had always been a clumsy child, bruises and scratches were normal for her. But, I was afraid she was punishing herself when her injuries got more often and more serious. She fell down the steps, breaking three ribs, then she fell off her bike, breaking an arm, both in one week. There were burns on her arms that she claimed were from frying eggs. Once she claimed that she had been drying dishes and accidentally hit herself in the face with a cast iron frying pan. Her four front teeth were broken for years until the school district, forced her mother to take her to a dentist. I told Gram that Doc and her mother weren’t dealing with the loss of her father very well. So, Gram spoke to Doc’s mother, offering to help, and it got better. There were no more broken bones, and Doc had clean clothes and hair again. After a while, she enjoyed herself with Gabi and me again.