“That’s just how they welcome every woman who comes in the place. It’s a tradition here.”
“Welcome to 1955.”
“It’s no different than walking by a construction site in the city, Rube. Relax...don’t let them smell your fear,” I kidded.
“Hey there, Mercy!” the bartender greeted me. “Good to see you tonight.”
“Hi, Earl. Looking pretty dapper tonight in your cowboy shirt. Two rum and Cokes.”
Earl Rollins was a good ol’ boy with a farm just west of town.
“Got a real nice little band tonight, Mercy. I think you’ll like ’em. They’ll be starting a new set in a few minutes,” Earl said.
I think I heard Zack say that his group was playing tonight. They’re all young guys, and he’s the drummer.
Earl set two tall drinks on the bar and put a red straw in each one. “Here you go...my special recipe!”
“Let me guess, Earl...rum and, um...Coke?”
Ruby rolled her eyes and grabbed a wedge of lime from the garnish tray on the bar, so I grabbed a couple green olives and popped them in my mouth.
Earl winked and laughed. It was the same “joke” he had used for years, but he never got tired of it, and I was always happy to play along.
“Enjoy your evening, ladies.”
I nodded and gave him a two-finger salute as we continued on to a small table, not too close to the stage. Gilbert Gallagher was playing pool with one hand across the room. One arm was still in a sling. His brother Dickie was sitting at a table near him, whittling, I think, which was his favorite pastime. They gave us a wave.
“I should introduce you around so your new neighbors can meet you, Ruby.”
“Ha! It would seem like you’re auctioning me off to the guy with the cheesiest pick-up line. No way.”
I leaned in and looked her in the eye. “You live in Paint Creek now, Ruby. This is your life. You’ve got to get over your preconceived notions about rural guys being red necks and racist creeps. They’re not. These are some of the sweetest, smartest guys you’ll ever meet...and there isn’t one of them who wouldn’t stop to change your tire or give you the shirt off his back if you needed it.”
She seemed skeptical but relaxed a little. “It’s just that I’m used to...”
“...to lawyers and stockbrokers – the real self-absorbed narcissistic creeps. The guys here have other things on their minds besides getting into your pants.” Well...maybe not. She looks amazing in that red dress.
“I don’t wear pants, Mercy.”
I gave her an incredulous look. She looked confused for a second and then slapped my arm.
“I’m not talking about underpants, you weirdo! I mean I always wear dresses!”
We laughed, and that seemed to break any remaining ice between her and the Legion Club.
“I was expecting this drink to be all booze so they could get us drunk, but it’s made just right. I don’t even need the lime,” she said as the band took the stage. “Looks like polka time!”
Her jaw dropped when she heard the opening riff of Layla coming from the little stage.
“These guys aren’t half bad,” she said. “I mean, they’re not Eric Clapton, but they have some early signs of talent. I’m going to go up and make some requests. I hope they know some Iron Maiden or Metallica.”
“You’re a head banger?” I asked as she ran off, turning to give me two quickly raised eyebrows. She had told me that means “yes” in Filipino.
After a long discussion with the guitarist they started playing something that sounded like Heavy Metal to me, and she came back to the table.
“Well,” she said, “Guns ‘n’ Roses is as close as they can get for now, and Welcome to the Jungle is one of my favorites. I had to promise him that I’d go up and do Slash’s guitar solo though, because he doesn’t think he can do it justice.”
I looked at her. “What?”
She took a good swig of her drink and got up again. “I’ll be back.”
She went up onto the stage and took the guitar from the guy who was singing. She kicked off her shoes, shook her hair like Janis Joplin, and then started to play. Every head in the house turned as she did an amazing guitar solo. When the song was over, she talked with the guys again. Then she gave back the guitar and grabbed the microphone. I couldn’t believe it when she started singing.
Cold late night so long ago
When I was not so strong, you know...
She was singing Magic Man by Heart, one of my favorite songs of all time.
It seemed like he knew me.
He looked right through me...yeah...
The dance floor began to fill as the song continued.
Come on home girl, he said with a smile...
The song sounded every bit as good as the original.
But try to understand, try to understand
Try, try, try to understand...
He’s a magic man
She went right into Crazy on You, air-drumming for Zack to get him to hit harder on the beat and showing him when to go into the transitional drum riffs. Then she came back to the table as the crowd roared and applauded. There were six more drinks waiting for her that people had sent over.
“Looks like you are popular here after all, Ruby. Who are you?”
She used a bar napkin from under one of the drinks to dab the sweat off her neck and forehead and took a sip of a drink as she caught her breath.
“Just a girl. Why?”
“Oh, no reason. I mean, not just anybody can get up on a stage, shred a guitar like Slash, and belt out a song like Ann Wilson.”
“I used to play gigs with a band in college, but we were never able to get a record deal. My parents made me realize that you can’t chase every dream, and teaching has been a dream of mine since I was a little girl.”
Dickie Gilbert came over to the table with something in his hand. “Hi, Mercy. Hello, ma’am,” he said to Ruby.
Hey! This time she’s the ma’am!
“I just got finished carving this,” he said, holding out a small figurine to Ruby. “It’s an angel, and I want you to have it because you sing like an angel – or maybe a Hell’s Angel,” he said with a little snort. He turned to blow some sawdust and small wood shavings off the very detailed angel and then gave it to her.
Ruby was moved. “Well, thank you so much! I’m Ruby – Ruby Owana. I’m a new teacher at the high school.”
“Dickie Gallagher,” he said. His eyes beamed as they shook hands, as if he were meeting a movie star. “It’s nice to meet you. Well, I’ll go now – I’m sure you don’t want a guy like me bothering you. Maybe I’ll see you at the town meeting on the new streets at the Village Hall tomorrow, Mercy.”
“That’s tomorrow, Dickie?”
“Yep, 1:00 p.m.” A few awkward bows, and he was gone.
“He’s a sweet guy,” she said, “and so shy. This angel is really beautiful.”
“Let me see.” She handed it to me, and I looked at all of the intricate work in the angel’s gown and wings. Even the face was very realistic. “Wow. You should stain and varnish it to keep it nice.” I gave it back to her and wiped the fine, pasty wood dust off my thumb and fingers.
It was a very pleasant and relaxing evening with Ruby. I think she enjoyed the Legion Club even more than I did – and we never ran out of drinks. But, by the end of the evening my mind was spinning again with thoughts about the murder of Tom Hopkins. I felt like the solution to this terrible crime was staring me in the face, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
Chapter Fourteen
It was a restless night of sleep for me, but I probably wouldn’t have slept at all if it weren’t for the three rum and Cokes I had at the Club. My mind had been twisting all through the night with the little bits of evidence and all the possible scenarios surrounding Tom’s murder.
At the crack of dawn, my eyes popped open, and I bolted upright into a sitting position.
“I know who killed Tom
Hopkins,” I said out loud.
I got up and ran into the bathroom and started making a mental list of all the things I had to do to prove my theory.
“Wizard!” I hollered as I stepped into the shower, “Remind me to call Sylvia Chambers...What? Oh, she’s the medical examiner...I thought you knew. And I have to stop by and see if Joan Pianowski is in her office this morning. That’s right...the real estate lady. Call Brody for me, will you, Wizard? Never mind...I’ll do it myself.” I can’t expect Wizard to do everything!
So many things to do...good thing I’m getting an early start. It was Saturday, so I had to pick up a nice beef roast at the butcher shop for Sunday dinner at Old School...oh, and some fresh ground beef. Ruby was going to want to drop off a nice fruit basket for Dickie too, as a thank you for the angel – I’ll put one together for her. I was going to need some help from Deloris too. Do I need Smoke for anything? How about Jake, Junior, and Red?
I jumped out of the shower after less than 15 minutes, put my hair in a towel, and walked briskly past the vanity to my closet. I put on a dress, with the one o’clock meeting at the Village Hall in mind – and so I wouldn’t look frumpy next to Ruby. I fed my babies and headed out of the house without making coffee. I would have a cup at Moonbucks, since I had to go to Joan Pianowski’s office across the street from there. As I backed out of my driveway, I called Sylvia at her office, near the morgue in the county office building in Calhoun.
“Sylvia? Hi, it’s Mercy Howard...I’m good, and you? Great! Say, did you get the results from the lab on that tan substance on Tom’s collar by the blood stain? Uh huh...uh huh...Great, I thought so. And, Sylvia, do you have those pictures of the marks on Tom’s body that looked like they might be impressions from a floor mat in the killer’s trunk? Great, great...can you bring them to the town meeting in Paint Creek today at one o’clock? Oh...well, can you give the pictures to Brody this morning? He should be in his office there for another hour or two. What? Sure! I’ll give you my email address, and you can send them right to me, if that’s okay. Perfect!”
I parked in the corner lot by the coffee shop and went inside.
“Good morning, Mercy! Wow, I hadn’t seen you for a month, and now here you are again, two times in one week!”
“Well, I’m on my way to see if Joan is in today at the Realty House – and I had to come and see your new super-duper deluxe coffee machine, Julia. It’s real pretty – how do you like it so far?”
“Oh, I love it,” she said, “I just wish I hadn’t bought it from a flim-flam man and arsonist. Are they sure he wasn’t the one who put that body in your dumpster?”
“Yeah, it wasn’t him. I bought my new soda machine from him too, but the restaurant supply company and the manufacturer are all that matter. He was just the middle man.”
“I guess.” She set down a perfect cappuccino in front of me with a heart-shape in the froth. “I know you’re a standard brew kind of gal, but you have to try one of these.”
“It looks delicious.”
I heard the door open behind me.
“Here’s Joan right now,” Julia said.
Joan got her coffee, and I invited her to join me at a table in the corner.
“So, you’re working on the weekend, I see,” I said to her.
“Oh, yeah. That’s the life of a Realtor, Mercy.”
I nodded. “And of a restaurant proprietor,” I added.
“You’re not looking for a new house already, are you?”
“Oh, no, Joan. I love my little house. I just wanted to catch up. I haven’t seen you in forever. You know, I was here the other night, and I was wondering if you knew anything about that ballroom dancing class above the barbershop. I saw a lot of people coming and going. My neighbor is new in town, and she’s looking for some outlets to meet people.”
“Well, Bud and Elena seem to enjoy it. They always stop in before and after to say hello, and they’re always in a much better mood afterwards.” She smiled and laughed. “Your friend should give it a try. You should too, if you have time. They draw people from Calhoun and Ballers Ferry and as far away as Harro’s Bend, so it’s not just the local farmers. The distillery expansion has brought in a lot of new blood and younger people too, Mercy.”
“That sounds...pretty cool.” I was just asking to pry into why the mayor and his wife were in her office the night of the stakeout, but now I’m actually interested in the class. “So, what else is new? Are you going to stop into the town hearing about the street upgrades on the south half of town?”
She leaned across the table and looked at me. “I’m on the council, Mercy! I have to be there.”
I slapped my forehead. “I knew that, Joan. I suppose now that Tom is...gone...there won’t be much opposition anymore. You have properties over there, don’t you? So, you probably are in favor of the project.”
“Well, I believe that the street project is something that Paint Creek has needed for a long time, and it’s just going to get more expensive every year. But Tom’s tragic death doesn’t mean that we aren’t going to give the opposition a full and fair hearing, Mercy. He had some very good points, and the people deserve to know what it’s going to cost, where the money will come from, and what other projects will have to be put on the back burner...”
She sounded very fair and concerned, and I let her keep talking.
“...but, you know a lot of people are getting hurt by falling property values. Some are having their loans called in because their home value is less than their mortgage balance. People will be losing their houses if this proposal doesn’t pass.”
“Really? I heard values were down, but I didn’t know that there could be foreclosures.”
“A lot of people took out second mortgages from the bank at low rates, but now the bank wants its money back. And as far as I’m concerned, I just have one small one-bedroom rental near there, but it’s not on a street that will be part of the project. If you see the Realty House logo on yard signs or newspaper ads for rentals, those are Gilbert’s. The brothers still own about a dozen properties there, and they still own the rights to the Realty House name for rental management. I own the brand for real estate sales.”
“Interesting.”
“Well,” she looked at her watch, “I have to meet a young couple in the office in a few minutes. I’ll stop in for lunch at the diner soon.” She got up from her chair and smiled. “Do you still have that hot turkey blue plate special?”
“Every Wednesday!” I said.
“See you Wednesday!”
So far, my day was right on schedule. I called Deloris, and everything was fine at the diner, so I stopped at the grocery store and got a nice fruit basket, picked up my meats at the butcher shop, and then stopped at Ruby’s house. I gave her the basket and filled her in on the idea I had for exposing the murderer. This was going to be a good day.
Chapter Fifteen
The town council members were all lined up at the head table in the second-floor great hall of the Village Hall. The Mayor, Bud Finster, was in the middle, and Joan Pianowski was on his right. The crimson curtain on the stage behind them was closed, with the official Paint Creek seal displayed above it. Several dozen folding chairs were set up facing the council, in the area that was most often used for dancing or banquet tables for the town’s pancake breakfasts.
There was a podium with a microphone set up on each side of the long table. They always set up town hall meetings this way so that the pros and cons would each have a mic and could debate each other and ask questions. There was an arc of eight chairs set up behind the podium on each side for those of us who wanted to speak. I took a chair on the “con” side, even though I liked the idea of improving the streets in the part of town that I grew up in.
Brody came down the aisle between the folding chairs for the gallery of observers, which was almost full. He was looking from side to side – for me, I hoped. I waved to him and met him by the front row of chairs.
“Just stopped in
to say hello, Mercy. Can’t stay. I thought Bud might need some help finding the metal detector wand, but it looks like Agent 007 already has things under control.”
I smiled and looked at the entry door, where Junior was having the time of his life wanding the people as they came in. “Agent 007?” I asked. “More like Paul Blart, Mall Cop, I think.”
Brody smiled. “Well, I have to take the state inspectors on a tour of Paint Creek and then through the office and arsenal downstairs here,” he said as he looked me up and down. “Did you have to wear a dress?”
I panicked. “What’s wrong with it? Do I look frumpy?”
He chuckled. “It’s just that I’m a leg man, Mercy, and you’ve got the best legs in Mclean County.”
“I have bony knees.”
“Then I guess I like bony knees. Now I’m going to be distracted all day thinking about you – and I might have to stop at your place after dark too.”
“Well, Sheriff Hayes, how do you know I’ll let you in?”
“I’ll bring Häagen-Dazs.”
He knows me too well. “Bourbon Praline and Peppermint Bark.”
“Two?” He said, trying to put a convincing look of skepticism on his face.
“Why not?”
“Well – two for you, two for me. I’ll have to wake you up in the middle of the night, then.”
“You better be there, now,” I said, rubbing his chest and arm very briefly. “And by the way, you’d better stop in as soon as you’re done with your tour.” Then I whispered to him, “And make sure you bring a set of handcuffs.”
He gave me a seductive look.
“Not for me! I’ll be solving your murder case in the next hour, and you’ll have a killer to bring in.”
“Really...? Don’t get anybody killed, now.”
The Mayor gave the gavel a few preliminary bangs, and I said goodbye to Brody. Everybody started moving to their seats. I saw Jake and Junior standing like sergeants at arms on either side of the main entry at the back of the hall – Junior with the wand held up conspicuously in his hand – and I gave them a thumbs-up. Ruby came running in and joined me in front. I gave her an inquiring look, and she gave me two confirming nods. Hattie Harper from the Ladies’ Aid Society and Liz Farber from the salon were the only other people on the “Con” side.
Murder Well Done Page 7