The Case of the Abandoned Warehouse (Mystery House #2

by Eva Pohler

  “You’re entitled to your opinion,” Sue said. “Will you call me if it’s ever found?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I told you I would. Is there anything else I can help you with, or did you come all the way down here just for that?”

  “We also wanted to thank you for the drinks last night,” Ellen said bravely.

  “They were delicious,” Sue added. “I’d never had a Bitch Slapper before.”

  The officer’s face turned red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Our waitress at the Chimera Café brought us drinks, courtesy of a gentleman whose name she believed was Ryan,” Sue said. “We assumed she meant you.”

  “Are you saying it wasn’t?” Tanya, who was not usually one for confrontations, asked.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. It wasn’t me. But if I do happen to see you at a bar in the future, I’ll be sure to send one over, for each of you.”

  As they returned to the van, Tanya asked, “Do you think he was lying to us?”

  “I don’t know,” Sue said.

  “Did you see how red his face turned?” Ellen said. “He had to be lying, that jerk.”

  From the police department, Ellen drove the rental van over to the Greenwood District to check on Miss Myrtle. They were nonplussed when she wouldn’t let them in.

  “I’m not taking any visitors right now,” she said from behind the front door. “I hope you understand.”

  “Are you feeling okay?” Ellen asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Did you hear about the fire?” Tanya asked her. “The eighteen people who died?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Did you know that we were there?” Sue asked from the sidewalk, since there was no ramp to the front porch. “Did you know that I got shot?”

  “No, I didn’t. I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “For some reason, they left us out of the papers,” Sue added.

  “I’m glad you’re okay. Now please excuse me.” Miss Myrtle closed and locked her door.

  As they returned to the van, Tanya said, “That poor woman is scared out of her mind.”

  “Do you blame her?” Ellen asked as she unlocked the back and helped Sue in. “Her grandmother was murdered, and then she was attacked in her own home. It’s no wonder she won’t see us.”

  “Do you think she blames us for what happened to her?” Tanya asked. “I feel so guilty, like we somehow caused it.”

  “Let’s go grab some lunch,” Sue said. “I’m hungry for Mexican food.”

  Ellen drove them to the Mexican Border Café on Brady Street, caddy-corner to The Brady Theater. Half-way through their very delicious meal, Sue lowered her voice and said, “I think we’re being watched.”

  She lifted her chin toward a table by the entrance where a single man was looking down at his phone.

  He was an older man, probably early sixties, wearing a flannel shirt, blue jeans, and a baseball cap.

  “He came in not long after us, and he hasn’t ordered anything but a drink,” Sue whispered.

  “So?” Tanya said. “Don’t be paranoid, Sue.”

  “That’s fresh,” Sue said with a laugh. “Tanya telling me not to be paranoid.”

  Ellen had to laugh, too. Sue was right.

  After they’d paid their check and left, they waited in the van to see if the man followed. Sure enough, he left the building only minutes after they had.

  “Let’s see what vehicle he gets into,” Sue said from the back of the van.

  “He’s walking down Brady toward Main,” Tanya said. “Should we follow him?”

  “Not yet,” Ellen said. “We don’t want to be obvious. Let’s watch him as far as we can see him.”

  “He’s getting into a Jeep Cherokee,” Tanya said. “Do you see that?”

  “Where?” Sue asked. “What color is it?”

  “Black,” Tanya said. “A half a block away. Let’s see if he pulls out.”

  They waited for a few minutes, when Ellen said, “He’s going to know we’re on to him if we wait too much longer. Let’s drive past him and see if he follows.”

  “I’ll try to get a photo of the vehicle,” Sue said.

  Ellen drove the van down Brady past Main for a few more blocks before she circled around and headed to their property next to Cain’s.

  “Did you get a photo?” Tanya asked.

  “Yes, but maybe I was being paranoid,” Sue said. “He doesn’t seem to be following us.”

  Ellen pulled up to the curb, where they could see the crew still busy hauling junk from the building.

  “Why don’t you stay here, Sue?” Ellen said. “Tanya and I’ll be right back. We’re just going to check on their progress.”

  “Don’t leave me out here alone,” Sue said. “There may be a killer after us.”

  “You just said he wasn’t following us,” Tanya pointed out.

  “But we don’t know for sure. Besides, I want to see the progress, too.”

  “The terrain isn’t very handicap-friendly,” Ellen said. “We’ll take pictures. Just lock the van. You’ll be alright. Call 9-1-1 if anything happens.”

  The brush around the front entrance had been cleared away and the boards over the doors removed. Ellen and Tanya took the concrete steps up and entered the massive ballroom, which was clear of everything. The old risers, the trash, and the blankets that had been left behind by transients were gone and the wooden floor had been swept clean.

  “This is incredible,” Tanya said before snapping a photo with her phone.

  Ellen couldn’t agree more. “Amazing. I’m so excited!”

  They walked through to the old skating rink. The stable remnants, risers, hay, and trash were all gone. It too had been swept clean.

  “These rooms are massive,” Ellen said.

  She and Tanya both took a few photos before they made their way to the west wing, toward the bowling alley. Everything had been cleared out except for the bowling pins, which had been stacked against one wall. The four lanes looked like all they needed was a good refinishing. Ellen and Tanya took more pictures and then headed back toward the roller rink. Ellen glanced into the restrooms. The toilets and sinks had been stripped out and covers had been placed on the floor on each of the sewage pipes.

  “It doesn’t smell so bad anymore, at least,” Tanya said.

  “We need to decide if we want to salvage or demo the tile,” Ellen said, moving on.

  “Let’s check out the upstairs,” Tanya said. “You think they’ve gotten to it yet?”

  “I saw bed frames in one of the dumpsters. Let’s go see.”

  Ellen followed Tanya up to the second floor, to the room with the dreamcatchers—only now, the dreamcatchers were gone. Everything was.

  “We should have saved her things for her,” Tanya said.

  “I didn’t think about it,” Ellen said. “But you’re right.”

  The closet door opened, and the old woman showed herself. She was trembling and pale-faced and clinging to the candle holder with the Virgin Mary on it. “This was my home for forty years.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ellen said. “I really am. Why don’t you come with us? We’ll put you up in a hotel for the night and help you find another place to live.”

  “I don’t want another place. I want this place.”

  “We bought this property and the building on it,” Tanya said. “It belongs to us now. It never really belonged to you. You were living here illegally.”

  “Let us buy you a meal,” Ellen said. “Come with us. I’m Ellen, by the way. And this is Tanya.”

  “Will that make you feel better?” the old woman asked. “If you buy me a meal and a hotel room for one night, then you will feel no shame? No guilt?”

  “We have no reason to feel that way,” Tanya said. “We aren’t the ones breaking the law. You are.”

  “Laws made by white people.”

  “Tomorrow, the abatement crew is coming to remove the asbes
tos,” Ellen said. “You can’t be here. It’ll be too dangerous.”

  The old woman sighed.

  “What’s your name?” Ellen asked.

  “Simol.”

  “Why does that sound familiar?” Tanya asked.

  “It was painted on the front door,” Ellen said. “Simol was here, like in 1975 or something like that.”

  “Seventy-seven,” the old woman said. “I didn’t think I would stay back then.”

  “Why did you?” Tanya asked.

  “I had no place else to go, and this room was comfortable. Other people came and tried to stay here, but I soon learned how to use the spirits to scare them off.”

  Ellen pointed through the window toward the oil seep. “The fire?”

  Simol nodded.

  “Were you born in Tulsa?” Tanya asked.

  “Kansas.”

  Tanya folded her arms. “What brought you here?”

  “My husband beat me, even when I was pregnant. I ran away and went from town to town until I found this place.”

  Ellen was feeling guilty as hell. She glanced at Tanya, whose face had turned pink.

  “Please let us help you,” Ellen said. “Not just for a night. We’ll help you find a permanent solution. We promise.”

  The old woman sighed again. “Fine. You can get me a hotel and buy me dinner.” Then she added. “They threw out my clothes. They weren’t much, but now all I have is what you see.”

  “They’re probably still in the dumpster,” Tanya said. “We can dig them out.”

  “We’ll take you shopping,” Ellen said. “Okay?”

  The old woman shrugged.

  “Thank you for helping us the other night,” Ellen said as she followed Tanya down the stairs with Simol behind her. She wanted to ask about the child skeleton, but she didn’t want to upset the woman. “You may have saved our lives.”

  Tanya led them through the roller rink to the east wing, so they could check out what was once the old dining hall on their way out. It too had been cleared of all mattresses, garbage, and boxes and had been swept clean. Now that all the junk was gone, they could see it had an industrial-sized kitchen in the back of the room. The appliances were shot, but the layout was good.

  “I still can’t get over how amazing this place looks,” Ellen said.

  “Oh, no,” Tanya said. “Sue just texted me 9-1-1.”

  “Let’s go!”

  Ellen and Tanya hurried from the building with Simol on their heels. The van was still parked on the curb. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Tanya ran ahead to the van and peered inside.

  “She’s still in there,” Tanya said. “Sue, let me in.”

  When Ellen and Simol caught up to them, Sue said, “The black Jeep Cherokee just drove by. I saw the driver glare at me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Simol

  With the deposits required for the contractor and the asbestos abatement company, Ellen was cash-strapped and relying on credit cards. If Bob Brooks was wrong and there was no oil, she was going to be in major financial trouble until they sold the social club—if they sold it.

  What if they never found a buyer?

  She could already hear what Paul would say.

  She tried not to worry about money right now as she waited in her hotel room for Simol to finish showering. Tanya had loaned the old woman a pair of sweats and a hoodie to wear shopping. The pants would be too long, but anything of Ellen or Sue’s would drown the petite Native American.

  As they waited, Ellen touched up her makeup using the mirror over the sink at the kitchenette. “We should let her stay here, in our room. There are plenty of beds.”

  “No way,” Tanya said, from where she sat on the sofa flipping through the channels on the television with the remote control. “I don’t trust her.”

  “She did save our lives,” Sue, who was brewing coffee at the desk and scanning through the photos Ellen and Tanya had sent her of the building, pointed out.

  Tanya stood up and paced the room. “What if she steals all our cash and credit cards in the middle of the night? We don’t know anything about this chick. She could slit our throats now that she knows we’re taking her home away—the only home she’s known for forty years. There’s no way I’m sleeping in the same room with her. If you want her to stay, fine. I’ll get my own room.”

  “Calm down, Tanya,” Ellen said. “We’ll get Simol her own room.”

  Just then, Ellen got a call from Bob Brooks. He’d just arrived in Tulsa and had been to the property.

  “It sure looks different,” he said. “That building is a beauty.”

  “Yes, it is,” Ellen agreed.

  “I was hoping to meet you ladies for dinner to run something by you. Oklahoma Joe’s BBQ is right next door to Cain’s. Want to meet there at seven?”

  “Hold on.” Ellen turned to the others. “Oklahoma Joe’s BBQ tonight with Bob?”

  “Sounds good,” Sue said.

  Tanya nodded. “You might warn him about Simol.”

  “What about me?” Simol asked as she came out of the shower in Tanya’s sweats.

  Into the phone, Ellen said, “We’ll see you there” and hung up.

  “That shower is amazing,” Simol said. “I usually bathe in the river—except this time of year. When it gets cold, I’m limited to sponge baths in the sink where I work.”

  “Where do you work?” Sue asked.

  “I’m the dishwasher at Oklahoma Joe’s BBQ.”

  “Uh-oh,” Ellen said. “We better choose a different restaurant.”

  “That’s where we were going to take you tonight,” Sue explained to Simol. “Maybe we should let you pick the place.”

  “I’m not picky,” Simol said.

  “But surely you don’t want Oklahoma Joe’s, do you?” Tanya asked.

  Simol shrugged. “Food is food.”

  “We’ll go there for dinner,” Sue said, “but tomorrow we’ll take you somewhere else.”

  “It’ll have to be lunch,” Ellen said. “We’re heading to Oklahoma City in the evening, aren’t we?”

  “I work tomorrow,” Simol said. “From ten to six.”

  “Then we’ll take you to breakfast,” Tanya said.

  Simol shrugged and said, “Whatever.”

  Simol proved to be as indifferent to clothing as she was to food. After visiting a string of shops in a mall across town, they’d settled on five tops, three pairs of blue jeans, underclothes, socks, a new pair of sneakers, and a puffer coat that tied at the waist.

  By the time they’d reached Oklahoma Joe’s BBQ, it was fifteen after seven.

  “You brought friends with you tonight, I see,” the hostess said to Simol at the door.

  Simol glanced over them, but said nothing.

  “We’re meeting someone,” Sue said. “His name is Bob, and he’s got white hair and gorgeous blue eyes.”

  “Would you like to check if he’s here?” the hostess asked.

  “I’ll do it,” Ellen said.

  She found him at a corner booth for four, which was fine, because Sue could sit in her wheelchair on the end. Ellen waved the others to follow her.

  “Sorry we’re late,” Ellen said as she scooted in next to Bob. “And we brought a friend.”

  Tanya slid in across from Bob, and Simol sat next to her. Sue’s wheelchair sort of trapped everyone in their seats, but hopefully no one would need to get up and use the restroom anytime soon.

  Sue asked Simol what she would recommend, but the old woman shrugged. “It’s all good. Food is food.”

  As they waited for the waitress to come back for their order, Ellen pulled out the inspection camera from her new purse and showed Bob the video she’d taken during Operation Old Lady on Brady.

  “Where did you get this?” he asked.

  Ellen told him the story, keeping her voice down, so as to not be overheard. The waitress came in the middle of it to take their order, and after she disappeared, Ellen continued.

  “We aren’
t going to approach the owner until we have some kind of bargaining chip,” Sue explained. “We’re hoping to be able to make him an offer.”

  “What kind of offer?” Bob asked.

  “We’ll pay to freshen up the old place if he’ll allow us to open up that wall,” Ellen said.

  “I can’t tell you how thrilled I am. It makes perfect sense that a mass grave would exist at that location.”

  “Can you believe a concrete wall?” Sue asked. “It’s a literal stairway to nowhere.”

  “Speaking of opening up walls,” Bob said. “I asked you here because I want to be there tomorrow during the asbestos abatement.”

  The waitress brought their drinks, after which, Bob continued.

  “They may need to go inside those walls,” he said. “And if they do, I want to make sure the remains aren’t badly disturbed.”

  “You’ll have to wear protective gear, won’t you?” Tanya asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “They’ll give me what I need. I’ve done this before. I just need you to tell them to allow me to participate.”

  “I’ll text the contractor now,” Sue said, tapping the screen on her phone.

  “As soon as they’re done with the asbestos removal, I’d like to bring in my crew to recover the bodies before you go any further with your renovations.”

  “Of course,” Ellen said. “How long do you think that will take?”

  “A day, maybe two. Getting them out’s the easy part. Identifying them—well that could take us a very long time.”

  “Where did they come from?” Simol asked.

  Bob told Simol about what he called the Tulsa Race War of 1921. The waitress brought their food just as Bob was finishing his story.

  “No wonder they don’t like fire,” she said. “Or white people.”

  “They saved us from you,” Sue pointed out. “That night you lit the place on fire.”

  “I didn’t light the place on fire,” Simol said. “It was my home for forty years. Why would I do that?”