"And don't forget dessert." Stush swung the tray around behind him and took a bow at tableside. "Enjoy, ladies."
"Thanks." I managed a little smile and a nod. I really just wanted him to go away.
Which he did. "Second helpings are on the house, you know." For once, the sad giant had a loopy grin on his droopy face as he backed away toward the kitchen. "So are thirds and fourths."
"Okay then." Peg gave him a peppy wave, then tacked one on for someone at another table for good measure. "Hey there, Mary Lou."
Then, she picked up her fork and knife and started in on the stuffed tomato.
I let three bites pass between her lips before I reached over and dropped a hand on her wrist. "What did you mean?" I caught her gaze and held it. "When I said that whoever sent that letter missed their chance if they were planning to go after Dad, and you said..."
"Did they?" Peg shrugged. "Don't you think it's an awfully big coincidence? That letter arrives, and the next day, boom. Lou's dead."
"But he died of a heart attack," I said. "He died of natural causes."
Peg's eyes were like lasers, blindingly focused and intense. "I have my doubts."
Slowly, I lifted my hand from her wrist. I sat back on the red vinyl bench, hands planted on either side as if to brace myself. Because the world felt like it was shifting off kilter underneath me.
"Doubts?" It didn't seem possible. "What kind of doubts?"
Peg chewed another piece of tomato and swallowed. "I think there's more to this than meets the eye." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "I think Lou was murdered."
The world kept tilting. I felt like I was getting seasick. "Murdered?"
"Keep your voice down!" Peg looked around with sudden agitation. "What if someone in here did it?"
I dropped my voice to a whisper. "And what if you're just being paranoid?"
Peg shook her head. "Something isn't right about all this, Lottie. I'm telling you." Just then, an elderly couple hobbled by, and Peg paused to return their hellos. When the couple was gone, she refocused on me. "I can feel it. He was murdered. And whoever wrote this..." She pulled out the threatening letter and shook it. "...is the one who killed him."
I was lost in thought for a moment, my mind roaming among the possibilities. Now that she'd put the idea in my head, I felt my obsession with it growing exponentially. How long until it blocked out everything else?
And yet, there wasn't a scrap of truth to support it. "He died of a heart attack, Peg."
"That doesn't mean he wasn't murdered." Peg forked up some tuna salad, chewed and swallowed, then washed it down with cold coffee. "There are drugs that mimic the symptoms of a heart attack."
"Did anyone find them in Dad's system?" I said.
"Nobody looked." Peg's whisper dripped with contempt. "The coroner didn't file a toxicology report. He said there was no need for one."
"So maybe there wasn't." I shrugged. "Maybe it was just a heart attack after all."
"Not possible." Peg shook her head. "Lou went to the cardiologist two weeks ago and got a clean bill of health. Not the slightest sign of anything wrong."
"Things can still happen to healthy people." Even as I said it, I thought it sounded lame.
"Not this time." Peg started hacking off another hunk of tomato and tuna salad with a vengeance. "I knew my Lou, and I'm telling you, somebody killed him." She speared the hunk of food and lifted it from the plate to her mouth.
As for my halupki, it remained untouched on the table. The talk of murder had chased away my appetite. "But the only evidence you have is that one letter, right? And Dad got dozens of them over the years without running up against any kind of danger until now."
"The letter wasn't the only thing," said Peg. "Lou was depressed for about the last month or so. Something was bothering him in a big away, and he wouldn't talk about it."
I pushed away my plate and folded my arms on the table. "You don't have any idea what it might have been?"
"He didn't talk much to me over the last month." Peg put down her silverware and reached up to adjust her polka dot glasses. "I, uh...I was starting to wonder." She leaned forward and dropped her voice to a low whisper. "I was wondering if he was getting ready to leave me."
"Really?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I'd always imagined Dad and Peg were inseparable. "Just because he didn't have much to say for a while?"
"Not just that." Peg sighed and looked out the window. "There were phone calls. He took them out in the car with the windows up. I never knew what he was talking about or to whom. I can't even find the cell phone he used or the bills that would list the calls." She winced; for once, her magnifying glasses made her eyes look twice as tragic instead of twice as silly.
"Dad would never have left you." I spoke with some authority, since I knew his ex-wife, mother, and daughters (myself included) had tried often enough to drive them apart. "He said you were his soul mate."
"He left your mom, didn't he? If he did it once, he could do it again." Peg turned from the window and met my gaze. "Either he was going to leave me, or someone was threatening to kill him...or both."
I sighed. "You really believe this, don't you?"
Peg shot an arm across the table and gripped my wrist. "Will you help me prove it, Lottie? I don't think I can do it alone."
Suddenly, Stush's voice burst in as he appeared alongside the table. "What's happening here?" He gestured at the plate of halupki I'd pushed to one side. "How dare you bite the hand that feeds you like this? You haven't even tasted this food."
Peg let go of my wrist. "It's my fault, Stush. I've been prepping her for the new job."
"I'm sorry, Uncle Stush." I tried to look apologetic. "We had so much to talk about, I lost track of time."
Stush's sad brown eyes looked moist. "I put my heart and soul into this food, in honor of what you mean to me." He picked up the plate of halupki with both enormous hands. "How could you turn your nose up at it?"
"No, no." I reached for the plate. "It's not like that at all. You know I love your food."
Stush glared at me, then at Peg, then rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "All right, you've talked me into it. You can have one more chance. How about if I just heat this food up a little first?"
I smiled up at him. "That'd be great." I wasn't the slightest bit hungry, but I'd find a way to clean that plate and avoid hurting his feelings.
"Fine." Stush bobbed his head, and his flyaway gray comb-over fluttered. "I'll be back lickety-split, ladies."
When he'd disappeared into the kitchen again, Peg's hand flew right back over to grab my wrist. "So what do you say, Lottie? Will you help me find the killer?"
I still wasn't convinced there was a killer. Peg's clues didn't add up to much, really. For all I knew, she was so worked up with grief, she'd dreamed up the whole thing as a way of dealing with the loss of Lou.
But what if there was something to her theory? And what if my help could make a difference in finding justice for my father? How could I justify turning my back on Peg...and Dad?
I'd let him down so many times before. Even this time, after his death, I'd come home not just to mourn for him, but because I needed his money. Maybe it wouldn't kill me to do this one selfless thing in his name.
"I'll do what I can." I laid my free hand atop Peg's when I said it.
Peg beamed from behind her freaky glasses. She nodded in a herky-jerky way and let her head fall sideways to her left shoulder. "Your father would be so proud right now." Her voice sounded choked up with strong emotion. "I love you for doing this, hon."
I was surprised to hear her say it. I knew I should say it right back...but I wasn't quite there yet. For now, it would have to be enough that I was feeling halfway sympathetic toward her. That in itself was a major accomplishment in my book.
"Okay." I let go of her hand, and she let go of mine. "So what do we do first?"
"Eat your przek¹ska before it gets cold a second time, ungrateful dziewczyna!" Stush
banged the plate of halupki down in front of me, spattering tomato sauce on the table.
Without another word, I dug in. I hadn't had halupki in years.
And this batch was perfect. Not that I could savor it the way I would've liked. The thought that Dad could have been murdered dominated my attention. It still seemed totally unreal...yet potentially more important than anything. If it was true, everything else would fade into the background.
And Dad would take center stage in my life in a way he hadn't done in many years before his death.
*****
Chapter 14
After lunch, Peg and I went back to Polka Central and spent the rest of the afternoon working on the new computer and printer. Eddie and Glynne had configured most of the system before leaving to run errands...but the settings weren't necessarily the way Peg wanted them.
By the time five o'clock rolled around, we had the laptop running like a charm. I'd even started a rudimentary filing system on the hard drive and whipped together a spreadsheet template so we could start entering budget data from the zillion paper receipts and statements stuffed in folders and shoeboxes around the office space.
All in all, not a bad day's work...and all without a single mention of murder. It was like the conversation Peg and I had at lunch had never happened. Which, frankly, was okay with me. I was still on information overload, fighting to process what she'd told me; taking my mind off the subject with a few hours of unrelated menial labor was just what I needed to let everything settle in.
Around five, Peg told me to shut down the laptop and asked if I had plans for the evening. I told her I did, which was true; my sister Bonnie was having a thing at her house, and I was invited.
Peg looked disappointed, and I actually considered canceling on Bonnie...but not for long. Better not to overdo it, I thought. Let's quit while we're ahead.
So when Eddie showed up a few minutes later, I asked him to drive me back to the DeeLite Efficiency Motel instead. There'd be time enough to investigate my father's supposed murder tomorrow.
"What's with the Polish Peg love fest all of a sudden?" Eddie glanced over at me while driving and laughed. "Next thing you know, you two will be moving in together."
I decided to hold back on mentioning the murder theory, at least for now. "Maybe she just figures she's stuck with me, so why not make the best of it?"
"Peg plus Lottie, sittin' in a tree, kay-eye-ess-ess-eye-en-gee!" Eddie said it in the sing-song playground cadence we remembered from childhood teasing. "First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes Lottie with a baby carriage!"
I smirked and shook my head. "You're just jealous the boss likes me better."
Eddie's big dark sunglasses hid his eyes as he looked my way. "Just don't turn against me, Lot! Remember, you said you'd be my ally."
"I said I'd take the job. I never said you'd get a free ride." On impulse, I jabbed his bicep with my fist, just hard enough to make it sting. "Consider yourself on probation, Eddie. You'd better stay on my good side if you know what's good for you."
Eddie let out a long, heavy sigh and bumped his forehead on the steering wheel. "Kill me now, Lord. I've created a monster."
"Hey!" I gave his bicep another punch. "No whining on company time."
*****
After Eddie dropped me off at the DeeLite Motel, I washed up and changed clothes. No need for makeup at Bonnie's; tonight's gathering was meant to be strictly family, a quiet dinner together in honor of Polish Lou to wrap up the weekend.
Only one thing was certain: with the Furies, the Mama/Grandma Tag Team, and the ADHD Dozen there, this get-together would be the furthest thing from quiet. It was also the last thing I wanted to do with my evening. I knew I'd be dying for a smoke before the hoedown was over.
Spending the evening with Polish Peg was starting to look good by comparison.
As I straightened my yellow top and white Capri pants in front of the mirror, I thought about how strange it was not to be filled with disgust at the thought of Peg. I was actually looking forward to seeing her the next day, if only to get started with investigating Dad's death.
Had she always been decent, but I'd never noticed? Or had Dad's death changed her? Either way, Dad had gotten his wish; we were working together without killing each other, though the focus of our teamwork was something he might not have imagined: finding his murderer.
I never would've expected it, either. Just as I hadn't expected my dream project in L.A. to go almost belly up.
Speaking of L.A., the cell phone rang just as I was slinging my butterscotch leather purse over my shoulder. When I checked the screen, I saw it was Luke calling from Los Angeles.
I almost answered it. But then the whole conversation popped into my head, start to finish, and I didn't want to deal with it.
Luke wanted a status report on the money. I couldn't blame him; I knew we needed it soon to pay our creditors. But there was simply no status to report.
If I answered the phone and told him there was no news, he'd just get more frustrated, and I'd get more frustrated with him. And we would lose a little more ground between us, the way we'd been losing ground since our troubles with the club had begun.
Better to let it go to voice mail.
Wishing for a cigarette, I headed for the door and reached for the knob. As soon as I pulled, and a widening gap opened up, a familiar blur of white flashed in from outside.
Ghost the cat was back for a return visit.
Caught off guard, I was slow to react. Ghost shot right past me, tail held high, and dove under my bed like a baseball player sliding into second base.
"Ghost, no!" I hurried over to the bed and kicked at the spread hanging over the side. "Get out of here! I don't have time for this!"
Ghost wasn't going to cooperate. He stayed holed up in his secret bunker, not making a sound.
Hunkering down, I lifted the spread and peered under the bed. Two glow-in-the-dark eyes stared back at me with keen interest and zero movement. Ghost didn't seem the slightest bit inclined to evacuate.
"C'mon! Get out of there!" I stuck my hand under the bed and waved back and forth, which had the same effect I'd expected--namely, none. Ghost really liked it under there.
Kneeling on the dark gray carpet, I considered my options. I was already running late; chasing the cat out would make me even later.
Or I could just leave it there and move on. Handle the cat the same way I was handling Luke, which was to deal with it later.
It went against my grain to leave the room with a strange animal on the loose. On the other hand, it wasn't exactly a mangy, diseased stray. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to leave it to its own devices for a while.
"Okay, you win." I braced myself on the bed and got to my feet. "You've got the run of the place. Just do me a favor and don't tear anything up, okay?"
I heard nothing from under the bed.
With a sigh, I headed for the door again. "We'll clear this up when I get back." I switched off the light, opened the door, and stepped outside. "Bye, Ghost."
Still not a sound from my uninvited white-furred guest as I pulled the door shut behind me.
*****
Chapter 15
My sister Bonnie lived with her five children and the occasional boyfriend in a little white house in Punzak Township. It was a decent downtown neighborhood, cramped but safe, lower class but well kept by neighbors who still took pride in their humble surroundings.
The house had been handed down by a spinster aunt who'd always been Bonnie's number one fan. Bonnie had been named after her, in fact, and had gone to live with her after graduating high school, before cranking out the kids. Now the place was all Bonnie's.
When I pulled up in my rent-a-car, the house looked quiet enough. There were three cars in the driveway--Mom's sea-foam green Toyota Camry, Baba Tereska's new blue hybrid Prius, and Charlie's ancient white Chevy van. I saw lights through the curtains inside the house, but no signs or sounds of ruckus could be seen or heard
outside.
Since the driveway was full, I parked on the street and walked through the grassy yard to the front stoop. Still, I detected no trace of the commotion I'd expected.
I climbed the three short steps to the stoop and tried the doorknob. It moved freely, so I turned it clockwise as far as I could and pushed the door open. Leaning inside, I peered into the small living room and frowned.
The room was a mess, as always, cluttered with toys and articles of kids' clothing. Half-empty plastic cups and bowls of chips and pretzels crowded the mismatched end tables and coffee table. The TV set in the corner was on with the sound down. And no one was home.
Scowling, I stayed in the doorway with one hand on the knob. Had something bad happened to my family? All the talk of death threats and murder had made me a little paranoid.
"Bonnie?" I called out into the house, still poised to spring back and run away at the first sign of trouble. Or was somebody playing a joke on me? I couldn't imagine it, given the gravity of this weekend's events. "Are you in there, Bonnie?"
Still, there was no reply. Heart pounding, I swung the door wider and took another step inside. Visions of my family, dead in the next room, rose up in my mind. As crazy as they made me, I couldn't bear the thought of not having them around...even if, most of the time, I only spoke to them sporadically over the phone from L.A.
"Anyone here?" I craned my neck, looking past the stairway at my right into the kitchen doorway. I saw the edge of the kitchen table but no sign of life.
It wasn't like Bonnie to invite me over and disappear. Worried now, I backed up onto the front stoop, pulling the door shut...and then somebody grabbed me from behind.
Crying out, I jumped forward and twisted around to fight off my attacker. But when I saw who it was, I caught myself before lashing out.
Dancing with Murder Page 6