Last Call

by Paula Matter

  I opened my mouth and closed it. Good point. But, Kevin? “Hmmm. He said he’d heard it on his scanner. And he does have a truck, but he only uses that to deliver the stuff he gets for the club, and in inclement weather. What information goes out on scanners, do you know?”

  “One of my brothers had one and his gave out all sorts of stuff—victim’s name, their address, even their date of birth.”

  “For an accident? All that?”

  She nodded. “Of course, this was several years ago, and I don’t know if it’s still that way. Any chance it was just a coincidence? Who would know where we were last night?”

  “Maybe we were followed. Hell, I don’t know.” I shrugged my achy shoulders.

  “But why you? Why are you involved? Why’d they plant your scrunchie?”

  “Pam more or less said a woman could’ve done it, and I’d be the most likely one.”

  Brenda snorted. “Ridiculous. You should’ve reminded Pam that since she’s a woman, she could’ve killed him.”

  “She’d be too afraid of breaking a nail,” I said. A few cars had started pulling into the parking lot. No trucks yet. I wondered if we were wasting our time.

  “So how do we prove you weren’t involved?”

  I grinned. “You want to be my sidekick? Help me solve the murder?”

  “Sure, Nancy Drew, I’d love to play Bess or George. Looks like I’ll be in town for at least one more day. Oh, hey, want to go car shopping tomorrow? I called my insurance agent before you woke up. They’ll need the official reports, but from the description of what happened, my car is totaled. I need a new one ASAP.”

  “Are you feeling well enough to drive, especially the four-hour trip to West Palm?”

  She waved away my concerns. “I’m fine. Just a little headache.” She chuckled. “Guess I should get a Miata with an airbag this time around. Maybe a nice brand-new model. I might have to cut down on some expenses for the new salon, but I’ll be getting a check from the insurance company. Oh, and I need a new phone.”

  “Maybe not. We should go look for your old phone right after the reception. It’ll be dark in a couple hours.”

  “Actually, Nancy Drew, I have a better idea. But for now, let’s head inside.”

  Everyone must’ve gone straight to the reception because the bar was pretty empty, but I stopped briefly to say hello to the few people who were sitting there. I didn’t recognize the man behind my bar.

  Brenda and I strode into the reception hall, one of the annexes attached to the back of the main building. The hall was built to hold receptions such as this. Considering the number of World War II vets and the rate at which they were dying, having this hall was one of their better ideas. Hell, even the number of Korean War veterans was dwindling.

  The hall was filled to capacity, but I didn’t see Pam Nelson anywhere. I hadn’t forgotten she still owed me money. Diane Reid stood behind one of the long food tables and we walked over to her. I handed Diane the plastic grocery bag.

  “Finally.” She sighed as she pulled the container out of the bag. “Store bought?”

  Brenda pulled on my arm and broke the awkward beat of silence. “So, introduce me to some folks, Maggie. People you think are worth meeting.” She coolly looked Diane up and down, and we sashayed away.

  I nudged Brenda with my elbow. “You’re bad.”

  “It’s why you love me.”

  “True, very true.”

  “What’s with her clothes? It’s hot as hell today and she’s wearing long sleeves and a high collar.”

  “I noticed that at the funeral, but look at me with the blazer. I should’ve left this in the car.”

  Lots of people sat at tables. I recognized every person in the room, and I felt disappointed. I had hoped some family member would’ve shown up, but no luck. Sam, Pete, and Kevin, still in their Honor Guard uniforms, stood off to one side. We walked over to them and I made the introductions. Amused, I wanted to tell Sam to stop drooling. Another reason why I loved Brenda—she doesn’t know how beautiful she is. I also wondered if Sam was okay. His eyes were red, as if he’d been crying. I’d never known for Sam and Jack to be friends, but I remembered how it looked like he’d been crying the morning he found Jack’s body. I also remembered him speaking up for Jack when JC and Dick badmouthed him on Sunday morning. I’d talk to him if we got a moment alone together.

  “I should have bought drinks while we were in the bar. Didn’t think about it. Brenda, you stay here and I’ll be right back.” I started to walk away, then as an afterthought, said, “Behave yourself while I’m gone.”

  Sam sputtered, “I will.”

  “I was talking to Brenda.” I winked.

  Since the bar was still pretty empty, I got a stool right away. Unfortunately, I didn’t get waited on as quickly. The new bartender, down at the end of the bar stocking the cooler, didn’t see me. Rather than create a scene, I waited quietly, hoping he’d eventually realize he had a customer. At least the bar itself was clean, and my hands didn’t stick to it like the other day. Even the bottles on the back shelf had been dusted and were lined up in the right order again.

  “Hi, there, what can I get you?”

  “Hi,” I answered and ordered my beer and Brenda’s gin and tonic. I pulled out three dollars knowing that would include a decent tip.

  He set the drinks down in front of me, “That’ll be $2.50.”

  I blinked. “Are you sure? I mean, I know you’re new here, so you might not know all the prices.”

  “Yeah. A buck for the beer, and a buck fifty for the drink.”

  “Since when?”

  “I don’t know.” He eyed the three bucks on the bar, and I could tell he wondered if I was going to add to it.

  I took the drinks, slid off the stool, and said, “Thanks. Have a nice day.”

  Brenda was still standing where I left her, and I handed her her drink. “When did you guys raise the prices? Sheesh. Almost three bucks for these.”

  Kevin had the decency to hang his head, and Sam said, “It wasn’t our idea. We were out-voted at the meeting Monday night.”

  “Yeah, it really sucks,” Pete said. “I sure was surprised. Now I know why the place is so dead this afternoon.”

  Sam shrugged. “We couldn’t do anything about it. Apparently, there’s going to be lots of changes. They—”

  Kevin spoke up. “Uh, Maggie, Brenda, how are you feeling? I was concerned about you two last night after I left.”

  “Thanks again, Kevin, for following us back to the house. We’re both fine.” I looked at Sam and asked, “What were you about to say? What kind of changes?”

  Before he could answer, Kevin said, “I don’t think we should be talking about what goes on in the meetings. No offense, Maggie.”

  “None taken.” I tried to get Sam’s attention, but he didn’t look at me. I figured he’d tell me later what had gone on in their meeting. Plus I had to wonder if Kevin was a little put out that I was interrupting the attention Brenda had been giving him when I walked up. My stomach rumbled.

  “Hungry, Brenda? You want to go eat?”

  “Sure.” She looped her arm through mine. “I hear the cole slaw is out of this world, can’t wait to try it.”

  Seventeen

  “Are you sure we should do this?” My clammy fingers clutched the steering wheel. “What if we get caught?”

  “We won’t get caught.” Brenda reached for the passenger door handle. “Listen, you made a good start by coming out here the other day. Now it’s time to follow through.”

  “Yeah, but what if someone comes along? What if—”

  “C’mon, we need to do this before it gets dark,” she interrupted me. “Everyone’s at the funeral reception. Besides, this place is pretty remote.”

  Remote was right. A half-mile off the main street, we’d bounced our way
down the rutted dirt road to where Jack’s place was tucked away. We both closed our doors quietly after getting out of the car. I stalled by taking a moment to really look at Jack’s house.

  A light gray stucco one-story, the house sat on a small dirt lot covered with pine needles. Slivers of weak sunlight flitted through the tall, scrawny pine trees. A green lizard, basking in what little sun there was, skittered away from us. After the rain we’d had, the air smelled musty, dank, and the temperature felt fifteen degrees cooler. At least that’s what I blamed my shivering on. It didn’t explain my pounding heart, which I apparently could hear because of the damn deathly silence. Skulking along across the spongy, muddy yard, I followed Brenda to the steps of the sagging covered porch.

  “Stop acting so suspicious,” she said. “Just act like you belong here.”

  “Too bad we don’t have a clipboard. I’ve heard carrying one makes you look official, that you can go anywhere with a clipboard.” I was rambling and I knew it. I also knew that I was scared this time because I hadn’t gotten caught the other day. I figured I couldn’t be lucky twice.

  Brenda simply shook her head at me and climbed the steps. “C’mon.”

  Looking over my shoulder instead of watching where I walked, I stepped into a puddle under the wicker plant stand. We both wiped our muddy shoes on the dry and fairly clean doormat.

  I whispered, “Do you think anyone’s inside? I thought I saw something move when I was here before.”

  Brenda shrugged. “Only one way to find out.” She knocked on the screened door, rattling its metal frame.

  Nothing.

  She tried the front doorknob. Locked.

  I started to turn away. “So much for that. We tried.”

  Brenda grabbed my arm yanking me closer. “C’mon,” she said and led me over to the window beside the front door. She cupped her hands against the grimy glass and peered in. “Damn, I can’t see anything.” She pushed on the window. It didn’t budge.

  “Well, that’s that,” I said. “We gave it our best shot.”

  “Don’t wimp out on me now, doll.” Brenda looked around, then lifted the dead potted plant and held up a key with a wide grin. She wiped it on her pants and said, “Voila! See how easy that was?”

  Terrific.

  She pushed the key into the doorknob, and it turned easily. The hinges creaked, but we were inside within seconds. I peeked outside once more making sure no one was creeping behind us, and then closed the door.

  The smell of stale beer and, I hate to say it, urine attacked my poor nostrils. A worn vinyl easy chair with long strips of duct tape that looked like racing stripes faced an old television set. A TV tray next to the chair held a remote control, small lamp, an inhaler, and a coaster. Flimsy pea-green curtains were drawn across a window next to the TV, specks of dust swirling in a weak ray of sun. Dark-brown paneling matched the thin, stained carpet.

  No other furniture. How very sad. No couch, not even another chair for company. With all the time Jack spent at the club, I imagined he wasn’t home too often, and when he was he didn’t have people visit.

  “Okay, let’s be quick,” I said. I not only didn’t want to get caught in a dead man’s house, but the stink was really getting to me. I wiped my clammy palms across my slacks. “We’re looking for a spiral notebook, like the kind you would’ve used in school.”

  I winced as I lifted the chair’s cushion and looked underneath. Nothing but a couple of coins, crumbs, and what looked like white animal hair. I let the cushion drop back down. No notebook on the TV tray. I peeked under the chair and came up with nothing.

  Brenda finished looking around the TV stand and curtains and came over to me. “No luck,” she said. “Now where?”

  Straight ahead of us was a swinging door that I assumed led to the kitchen. To our left, a short hallway with a doorway on either side. Bedroom and bathroom?

  I wanted to get out of there, so I quickly moved on, Brenda right behind me. I elbowed the swinging door open. Something brushed my leg. I shrieked and let the door swing shut.

  “Shhh! What happened?”

  A loud meow answered her question. A flash of white hightailed it under the living room chair. Turning back to the swinging door, I gingerly pushed it open again and we stepped into the kitchen. And I was glad to see that the overpowering stench of urine came from the kitty litter box shoved up against one wall in the kitchen. What I hoped were bits of dry cat food lay scattered on the floor next to a full water dish. Or were they rodent droppings?

  I turned to Brenda. She held her nose, her eyes watering. I asked, “Should we bother looking in here?”

  “Let’s look in the bedroom first. Seems more likely we’ll find it in there.”

  I said, “How about we save time and split up? You take the bedroom, I’ll check out the bathroom.”

  “Deal,” she answered.

  We moved down the short hall and went our separate ways. Immediately, I regretted taking the bathroom. Mold and bleach smells hung in the air. Green-tiled walls with a dingy white sink and bathtub sans shower curtain, and a toilet that ran worse than mine. The tank lid leaned against the wall behind the toilet. A pile of towels and clothes heaped on the cracked linoleum floor. Cigarette burns marred the Formica vanity where a can of Gillette shaving cream and a gunky razor with dried up blobs of shaving cream and little black and gray hairs sat.

  I opened the vanity door and peeked inside. No way was I putting my hand in there. I shivered, imagining the rodents that had probably taken residence. A quick look told me there was nothing in there but Ajax, rolls of toilet paper, and folded towels. I flipped through the towels. Nothing in the medicine cabinet either. I kicked the pile on the floor just to make sure the notebook wasn’t there.

  “Hey, Maggie, come here.”

  I joined Brenda in Jack’s bedroom directly across from the bathroom. The curtains in the bedroom were also drawn, and the room was dusky. A full-sized unmade bed, a dresser, and a night stand. A door across from the bed, which I guessed to be a closet.

  “Look at this.” She pointed to the night stand.

  A clock, a pen, and a framed photograph sat on the night stand. Using the hem of her shirt, she picked up the photograph. “Is this Jack?”

  I looked at the photo. A man and woman stood side by side, the woman holding an infant wrapped in a yellow blanket. The man wore orange overalls, the woman a flowered housecoat. Behind them was an old blue Ford sedan.

  “Well, is it?” she asked.

  I looked closer. “It could be Jack. I know he was once married to a Korean woman, and she’s definitely Asian. Take it out of the frame, see if there’s anything written on the back.”

  As soon as she loosened the cardboard backing, another photo slipped out. I reached down and picked it up. Dated 1958, it was a close-up of the man in the first photo. Across the left breast of his overalls, a name etched in white. Jack. Same buzz cut, but dark hair.

  “Son of a gun,” I said. “It is him.” I looked up at Brenda. She had turned over the other photo. “Can you read what it says?” I asked.

  “No,” she answered. “It’s in pencil and really faded.”

  “Let me see.” She handed it to me and I tried reading what had been written. “I can make out Jack’s name. Is the second name Joon? June? And the third name looks like it starts with a G. Has an L and a Y. Maybe an A.”

  “Gayle? Do you think that could be it?”

  “Maybe,” I said, handing the photos back to her. “Yeah, that makes sense. So, Jack must have a daughter some—”

  “Shh. You hear that?” Brenda’s fingers fumbled as she shoved the photos back into the frame. Her eyes wide, she whispered, “I heard something. Go look.”

  “You go look,” I whispered back. I stepped out into the hallway, Brenda right behind me pressed up against my back. Slowly, we moved into the living
room. Neither one of us had time to go anywhere to look. Or to hide. Instead, we stood frozen as the front door creaked open.

  Eighteen

  “Maggie?”

  Damn. I recognized that voice. Bobby Lee. Before I could say a word, Brenda shoved me forward and raced into the kitchen. The front door opened wider and in stepped the police chief.

  “Hey, Bobby Lee, how you doing?” A clipboard wouldn’t even have helped at this point, and I acted as nonchalantly as possible. I think my voice was steady, but my knees sure were wobbly.

  “Saw your car out front. What are you doing in here?” His beady little eyes squinted at me. “How’d you get in, Maggie?”

  “Hey, Maggie, I’m almost done in here,” Brenda called out from the kitchen. The expression on Bobby Lee’s face was priceless and I almost laughed. When his hand reached for his holstered gun, I straightened up real quick.

  “It’s okay, Chief—” I started.

  Brenda came out of the kitchen carrying a white plastic bag. “We’ll throw this out back in the garbage can. Oh, hello,” she said, “glad to see the police force are on the job, doing their duty.” She shifted the garbage bag to her left hand and reached out with her right hand. “I’m Brenda Blackwell.”

  Bobby Lee seemed taken aback, but he shook her outstretched hand. Then he looked back at me. “Maggie?”

  “Sir, would you please close the door? We’d hate for the cat to get out,” Brenda said.

  “Uh, sure, of course,” he said and pushed it shut.

  “So, Maggie, you ready to go? Jack’s cat should be fine for another day or so until you decide what to do. Meanwhile, I’ll prop open this door so it can get to its food. Okay, Maggie?”

  “Oh. Yeah. I’ll ask around at the club to see if anyone wants it. I’m glad I remembered Jack had a cat and thought to come check on it.”

  “Yeah, good thing Jack once told you about the key being in the planter.” Brenda flashed Bobby Lee a dazzling smile. “I’d hate for anyone to think we broke into the place.”