Stay Sharpe Box Set

by Lisa B. Thomas

  Kitty kissed her grandfather on the cheek and headed toward the door.

  Deena scribbled her phone number on a piece of paper and then followed Kitty outside. “If you need anything, you can call me. I live right next door.” Deena motioned to her house.

  Kitty gave her a once-over. “What did you say your name was again?”

  “Deena.”

  Kitty looked back at the house. “Huh. I thought maybe you were Marcie.”

  Chapter 5

  Deena had just enough time to add the last few facts to her story before she had to email it to Dan. A few back-and-forth phone calls later, the story was done and headed to the copyeditor. Dan told her he was pleased with the amount of information she had managed to uncover.

  She checked her other emails to see if there was anything important. Her favorite mystery author had a new book out, and it seemed like every store known to man was having a clearance sale. She eyed a few of the swimsuits while trying to picture her winter body in them. Yuck.

  Gary was back from the gym and dressed in casual attire. “It looks like you’re done here,” he said. “Want to come up to the new office with me?”

  She quickly closed out her email. “Do you really need me? I thought you and Scott were going to talk business.”

  “We are. We’re going to make a spreadsheet of all our current and potential clients and plan a big mailout introducing our new company.”

  Deena thought about it. If she’d looked up the word boring in the dictionary, that activity would be at the top of the list. “Uh, that sounds like a job for Vera.”

  “We told Vera to take the rest of the day off. I think she was getting her hair done this afternoon.”

  “Well, as much fun as that sounds, I think I’ll pass.” She didn’t look up to see the disappointment on her husband’s face.

  “Well, if you change your mind,” he said, “we’ll be there until five.”

  “You boys have fun,” she said as she opened her browser to check a national news app.

  Gary turned and left.

  A few minutes later, Deena looked around. “Gary?”

  He had already gone. It wasn’t like him to leave without giving her a kiss on the cheek. She’d try to remember to say something about it to him later.

  Her cell phone dinged. Maybe it was him. She looked at the message expectantly, but it was from Dan. He said the police had faxed over the sketch of John Doe, and they were moving her story to the front page. She felt her pulse quicken. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had front-page stories before, but it always gave her an adrenaline rush. It reminded her of those dreams where you find yourself out in public wearing your jammies, or worse, wearing nothing at all.

  She scrolled back to the photo of John Doe. Mortimer’s had done a nice job of making the man appear at peace, although his lips were a bit too pink. Staring at his face took her back several years to when her uncle had been a John Doe and she had figured out who had killed him fifty years earlier.

  That gave her a thought. If she could figure out this man’s identity before the police did, she’d have a true exclusive for the newspaper. Not only that, but she’d hopefully be able to figure out why the man was walking around with Edwin Cooper’s ID.

  So, where could she go to get information about a man no one in town seemed to know? She snapped her fingers. “The Pine Tree Motel.”

  Hurley looked up from the floor and tilted his head.

  “Sorry, boy. I was talking to myself. You stay here. I’ve got a story to follow.”

  She grabbed her things and headed to the garage to get in the car. Although she had been to the seedy motel across town on other investigations, it wasn’t her favorite place to go alone. She couldn’t ask Gary to go with her—he was working. But there was one person who knew her way around the place. She pulled her car out of the driveway and headed toward the church.

  * * *

  DARLENE WATSON WAS the secretary at the First Methodist Church where Deena and Gary attended. In her mid-forties and twice divorced, she was one of Reverend Abbott’s “projects.” Although a little eccentric, she knew everyone in town and had helped Deena out in the past.

  As usual, she was filing her bright red nails at the front desk when Deena walked in. This time, though, she had earbuds in and was humming along with some song playing on her cell phone.

  Deena waved a hand in front of the woman’s face to get her to look up.

  Darlene pulled at the earbuds, and they became tangled in her frizzy hair. It was more blond today than its usual auburn color. “Oh, fiddle-de-dee,” she said as she tried to extricate the device. “Why don’t they make these dang things wireless!”

  “They do,” Deena said as she watched the wrestling match in front of her.

  Finally, Darlene got them off—along with a little bonus hair—and threw them on the desk. She pulled a large hand mirror from the drawer and looked at her messy hairdo. “Oh dear. There’s a hole on the side.” She pulled out an industrial- size can of hairspray and attacked the mop. Finally, satisfied, she put away the beauty supplies and turned to Deena. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Sharpe. You are looking mighty nice today. How may I help you?”

  Yep. Darlene was just the right person to take on her romp down to the Pine Tree Motel. Deena leaned over the desk in a conspiratorial fashion. “Darlene, I’ve got a story I’m working on and I could use your help.”

  The woman’s eyes widened. “Oh, really? Is it a murder-for-hire? A kidnapping? One of those sex-trafficking cases?” She pushed at the side of her sticky hair. “You know I could go under cover as a minor if you need me to. Everyone says I look a lot younger than my age.”

  Deena stifled a laugh. “It’s nothing that dramatic. But it is pretty mysterious.”

  “Mrs. Sharpe, you know how important justice is to me. I was willing to go to jail if I had to. Remember?”

  “Oh, I remember,” Deena said. How could she forget when Darlene confessed to killing a man who died of natural causes. “There’s a John Doe in the funeral home and no one seems to know who he is. Here’s the picture. Do you recognize him?” Deena pulled up the photo on her cell phone.

  “Are you a hundred percent positive he’s dead? I mean, he looks like he’s sleeping to me. Looks like he could just sit up and talk to you.” She took the phone and moved it in and out to get a good look.

  “He’s dead, all right. Do you recognize him?”

  Darlene’s shoulders slumped. “I can’t say that I do, but I can’t say that I don’t. He looks a little bit familiar, but that might be because I’m looking at him right now in this picture.”

  Deena wasn’t sure of the logic but said nothing.

  Darlene sighed. “You know there are so many people who come through here, and then there’s the folks at bingo and the VFW—it’s hard to remember everyone.”

  Deena took the phone back. “I’m sure it is. That’s why I was hoping you might come with me to ask some of the folks across town.”

  “Across town where?”

  “You know,” Deena said, “on the other side of town.” She assumed everyone knew that was code for the rough outskirts of Maycroft.

  Apparently, Darlene didn’t. She stared back at Deena, her face a blank slate.

  Deena finally said, “You know, under the bridge and at the Pine Tree Motel.”

  “Ohhh. I know where that is.” She waved a hand at Deena. “I’m surprised you don’t know where that is after living here since Moses was born. Sure, I’ll take you. Let me just tell Reverend Abbott I’ve got to run an errand to help one of his flock. I’ll be right back.”

  Deena felt a little guilty about taking the church secretary away from her post, but she was pretty sure the place could manage to run for the next hour without her.

  Chapter 6

  Darlene came back out from around the corner and followed Deena to the parking lot. “It would be best if you drive, Mrs. Sharpe. My old car doesn’t always start. I’d hate to get stuck.”


  “This way,” Deena said and headed for her SUV. “And call me Deena.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Now just go on down this way until you get to the highway and go south a spell.”

  Deena did as instructed. Should she tell Darlene she was familiar with the area and had been there multiple times? She decided against it. Darlene might have a hard time understanding why Deena felt she needed someone more streetwise to accompany her on this mission.

  They drove under the bridge but found no one there. “Maybe they’ve gone to the soup kitchen,” Darlene suggested. “It’s getting close to suppertime.”

  “Let’s try the motel first,” Deena suggested and then followed Darlene’s directions.

  They pulled up to the Pine Tree. To say it had seen better days would be an understatement. It had seen better decades. The sign out front advertised weekly and hourly rates.

  “Look, there’s Tiny and Boles.” Darlene practically leaped from the car as Deena pulled in and parked. “Hey, fellas! How’s it going?”

  One of the men—Deena assumed Tiny, although the irony was that he was at least six foot two—took Darlene’s hand and spun her around in a dancing twirl. Her denim skirt, white blouse, and red pumps made her look like a square dancer. She whooped with delight.

  “What are you doing around here, girly girl?” the other man asked. He pulled a cigarette out from behind his ear and offered it to her.

  “No, thanks, Boles,” she said, catching her breath. “I’ve quit.” She glanced over at Deena. “Oh. Where are my manners. Boys, this is my friend Deena. Deena, this is Tiny and Boles.”

  “Howdy-do, ma’am.” Tiny dipped his head to greet her.

  Boles, on the other hand, just glared at her suspiciously. “What are you, a cop?”

  “Me? No,” Deena said.

  Darlene put her hand on Deena’s shoulder. “She’s a reporter for the newspaper. Real important lady.”

  Deena flushed with embarrassment. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly. But I could use some help.”

  Boles spat on the ground. The chaw in his mouth wasn’t the only sign that he habitually chewed tobacco. He was missing a few teeth, and the ones he did have were the color of molasses.

  Deena pulled out her cell phone and showed the two men the picture of John Doe.

  “See! I knew she was a cop.” Boles backed away. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Now wait a minute,” Tiny said. “If Darlene says she’s a reporter, then she’s a reporter.”

  Boles shook his head and waved them off as he walked off around the corner of the motel.

  “Sorry about that,” Tiny said to Deena. “It’s just that a cop was here earlier and had a picture of the same man.”

  Deena’s muscles tensed. The police had a jump on her. “Do you know him?”

  Tiny, although the friendlier of the two men, must have had his own suspicions. He crossed his arms and then glanced at Darlene.

  “She’s legit, I promise,” Darlene said. “You know I wouldn’t bring trouble around here.”

  Tiny scratched at the whiskers on his chin. “Just why are you looking for this guy? Did he rob a bank or something?”

  Darlene tsked and shook her head. “Not hardly. He’s dead!”

  Tiny’s jaw dropped. “Well, I’ll be.”

  “It’s true.” Deena moved the phone closer to Tiny. “That’s why we are trying to identify him. So we can notify his next of kin.”

  His face showed he wasn’t buying it. “That’s not the job of the newspaper. Why are you really looking for him?”

  Deena squirmed a bit. Then said, “He was found with another man’s identification on him. I’m trying to find out where he got it and why he had it.” She hoped her honesty would get her the answers she needed.

  Tiny took a step back. “Hmm.” He stared at Deena for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, he said, “I’ll make you a deal. You tell me whose ID he was carrying, and I’ll give you his name.”

  Deena considered the offer. It wasn’t like she would be giving up confidential information. It was all going to be part of her reporting on the case. She reached out her hand. “Deal.”

  Tiny shook it and grinned. “Okay, you first.”

  A quick glance at Darlene assured her it would be okay. “The driver’s license belonged to a man named Edwin Cooper.”

  Tiny raised a thin eyebrow. “That old guy who comes to bingo with that crazy-looking lady?”

  “Yep. That’s him,” Darlene confirmed. “You didn’t tell me that part, Deena. I know Mr. Cooper. He’s perfectly harmless.” She turned to Tiny. “I’ll bet your friend broke into his house and stole some things along with that ID. Do you know if that’s true, Deena?”

  She thought for a moment. It was definitely a possibility. Maybe Edwin hadn’t looked around enough to notice anything missing. “I’m not sure. It’s early in the investigation.”

  “Well, I don’t guess it would do much harm in my snitchin’, being that he’s dead and all,” Tiny said.

  Deena held her breath.

  “His name’s Rocky B. That’s how he introduced himself. How’d he die? Did the cops shoot him?”

  “Heavens no,” Deena said. “Apparently it was a heart attack.”

  “A heart attack. Right.” Tiny winked dramatically.

  “No, really. What else can you tell me about him?” She realized she didn’t have her purse and would need to take mental notes.

  “Look, I gave you his name. If you want more, it’s going to cost you.”

  “Tiny,” Darlene scolded, “she’s my friend.”

  “Sorry, sweetie. But a man’s got to make a livin’.”

  The idea of paying sources was distasteful to Deena. She’d learned from Dan though that it was sometimes necessary to grease the jaw to loosen the lips. “How about I treat you to supper?”

  Tiny slapped his leg. “Now you’re talking. Where are we going?”

  “Not with me,” Deena said a little too quickly. “I was going to give you money to buy yourself a meal.”

  “Even better.” Tiny glanced over his shoulder at the motel with its dark windows hiding who knows what. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private. I don’t need everybody around here knowing my business.”

  Deena led the way to the car. Tiny opened the passenger door for Darlene and then hopped in the back.

  “Drive down here and take a left,” Tiny said. “We’ll pull up next to the gas station.”

  “She apparently doesn’t know her way around town very well,” Darlene said. “I had to tell her how to get to the motel.”

  Deena bit her lip.

  Tiny chuckled. “Yeah, well, people like her probably live in the suburbs and don’t get out our way much.”

  Deena parked and pulled out her notepad and pen. “Okay, so tell me what you know about this Rocky B.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Tiny rubbed the tips of his fingers together.

  Deena was tired of his games. “Let’s see how good your information is first. You can get a pretty good meal for three bucks at the Taco Palace.” She shot him a snide look.

  “Okay.” He shifted his long legs into a more comfortable position. “I’m not sure where he hails from. Showed up here a couple of months ago.”

  “No last name? Where does he hang out?”

  “I never heard him give a last name. Not that unusual around here. His first name might not even really be Rocky.”

  Deena had wondered that.

  “He played cards with us some. Hung out at the bridge some. Was a good dice player. Nothing unusual . . . until the other day.”

  “What happened the other day?” Deena flipped to a clean page and waited.

  “Some of us were sittin’ out at the park. Nothing special. But then a car pulls up and Rocky jumps up like he knows the people.” Tiny coughed and rolled down the window to spit. “He says, ‘See ya later, fellas,’ and gets in the car and drives off with them people.”
/>   “When was this? What time of day?”

  “It was early. Before lunch.” Tiny ran his fingers through his dark hair. “Wednesday maybe. No, Thursday. Yeah, I remember it was Throwback Thursday at the kitchen and I thought, Rocky sure would have loved this stew.”

  Deena jotted down some notes but then couldn’t help but ask, “What exactly is Throwback Thursday?”

  “It’s when they take all the leftovers for the week and put ’em into a big pot. With hot cornbread, it’s the best stew you’ll ever eat.”

  Suddenly, Deena’s stomach growled. She realized it was nearly suppertime and the chips and salsa from lunch hadn’t held her over very well. “Was it unusual for Rocky to leave like that?”

  “Yeah, it was unusual. That old guy didn’t seem to know anyone else but us.”

  “What do you remember about the car and the people in it?”

  “The car was some old sports car. Dark red or maroon. I didn’t get me a good look at the people. Seems like there was a woman driving and a man next to her, but I can’t be sure.”

  The description didn’t match Edwin Cooper’s car. He drove a blue Honda. “Did you ever see him come back?”

  “Nope. I figured maybe they were relatives come to take him back home. Hadn’t seen him since. ’Course now I know why. Somebody probably killed him. Maybe his kinfolks or that Edwin Cooper guy.”

  Deena shook her head. “I told you, the coroner said he died of a heart attack.”

  “Yeah, but those law enforcement types are always trying to cover stuff up.”

  Darlene turned in her seat. “Quit being so paranoid, Tiny. There’s some good cops around here, like that yummy Detective Guttman.” Her face practically beamed.

  “Speaking of cops,” Deena said, “I suppose you told them all of this.”

  “Are you kidding?” Tiny put his hand on the door handle. “We don’t tell them nothin’. Ever.”

  “Anything else I should know?” Deena asked.

  “Not that I can think of. Now, how about that dinner money.”