by B K Baxter
“I am so glad I have a chance to wear these shoes.” She did a little spin. “How do you think they look? They match, don’t they?”
Velma hated to tell her that the shoes had never been black. They’d been navy since the day she’d bought them. “Just perfect.”
Ethel walked over, and as Velma got out of her chair to get her shoes, Ethel grabbed her and hugged her. “I hope he shows up. Thank you for making this happen.”
“You’re welcome, Ethel. Just remember, ask him about the murders. And whatever you do, don’t screw things up.”
Chapter 22
Ethel parked the car in front of Ruby Jack’s and shook her head. She still hadn’t forgiven Velma for having Harrison Spoke, one of the richest men in town, meet her at the town’s favorite family restaurant. “I thought this was supposed to be a nice date.”
“Ruby Jack’s is a nice place, and I know how much you love the coconut pie.”
“This place serves alcohol in the bar, and it gets wild at night when all the families are home.” Not only that, but the place hadn’t been updated in the thirty years it had been there. No one really cared when it came for a fast meal, but a date? Ethel was mortified. “This place is not romantic, Velma.”
“It all depends on where you sit and what you order. I’d stay clear of the bar because that’s where I’ll be, but you could sit in the back where it’s quiet.”
“Velma, you can’t sit in the bar with a bunch of drunk men. What if one of them tries to get fresh with you? You’ll start a fight, and we’ll all be thrown out.”
“This isn’t Big Hank’s across town, Ethel. I’ll be fine, and I promise to behave. Besides, they won’t know I’m with you.”
“If you get yourself thrown out, Velma, I’ll have to drive you home!” Ethel knew her sister’s inability to drive was going to ruin things. “And what if he wants to invite me back to his place? Are you going to wait here all night?”
“I highly doubt that will happen, Ethel. Besides, it’s the first date. You’ll be lucky if you can get a kiss.” Velma thought she was more likely to get a “Kiss my ass” from Harrison when he learned who she was.
Ethel killed the engine and checked her makeup in the rearview. “At least I had my new makeup to fix myself up. I told you it wasn’t a waste of money.”
Velma opened the door to get out of the car, and Ethel followed. As they walked inside, Velma stopped at the door and turned to Ethel. “Remember, I’m right in the bar, and we can go just as soon as you’re ready. After you get the information we need, of course.”
“And you’re sure there’s more to tell?”
“He is keeping something from me. He has to be. But with any luck, he’ll open up to you. You’re not as harsh as me. People find you endearing for some reason.” Ethel thought it had to be because they didn’t give her much credit. Ethel had never been the brightest crayon in the box, but Velma knew her worth, and deep down, even if she wanted to run over her with the car some days, she loved her.
Ethel gave a nod. “What if he doesn’t show up, and my new dress ends up smelling like A-1 and cigarettes for no reason?”
“You’ll just have to give him up.”
Ethel took a deep breath and walked into the restaurant. She was stopped by the hostess as Velma walked into the bar and found her seat where she would have a pretty good view of the entire restaurant.
“How many will be joining you?”
“There’s going to be two of us,” said Ethel. “I’m Ethel Harmon, and my date should be along shortly. Could you give us your most romantic table please?” She squared her shoulders when the woman gave her a strange look, complete with a snort and eye roll, but Ethel knew she’d have the last laugh when Harrison Spoke walked through the door and asked for her table.
“Is this romantic enough for you, lady?” The hostess smacked her gum as Ethel looked at the booth. There was still water on it from when it had been wiped down, and whoever had done it had forgotten to wipe the seats. It was just as well. Ethel didn’t want her new dress getting wet.
“This is fine,” she said, noticing a roll of paper towels on the table. “Thank you.”
As the hostess walked away, Ethel slid into the booth, careful not to touch the table, and grabbed the paper towel roll. She quickly dried the table and then straightened the condiments. But something was wrong with the booth. Ethel put her elbow on it, and it shifted beneath her weight. “Dang.” She gave it a wiggle. That was only going to annoy her and make her dizzy by the time Harrison showed up, so she gathered up some sugar packets and bent down in her booth to try and wedge them.
At that unfortunate time, while Ethel had her ass in the air, Harrison Spoke came up to the table. “Excuse me?”
Ethel heard the sound of his voice and came up, hitting her head on the table.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” said Harrison. “There must be some mistake.” He stopped for a moment, puzzled. “Wait, you’re the one who left me the note? To meet you here?”
“Yes,” she said with a big smile. “I know it was a little forward of me, but my mama always said if you see something you want in life, you have to go for it.”
Harrison seemed a bit out of sorts, but Ethel chalked it up to flattery. “I see,” he said. “And where is your sister?”
“She’s not here,” said Ethel, batting her lashes. “It’s just the two of us.” She gave him a wink.
“That explains the location,” he said. “I’m sorry, but you’re not who I thought I was coming to meet.”
Ethel’s smile faded. “Oh? Didn’t my note explain that?” She had a feeling she would have to commit a grave sin and kill her sister.
“It said, and I quote, ‘Missed you, lover. Meet me at Ruby Jack’s tonight at seven-thirty.’” His brow rose. “Lover? We’ve barely met, Ethel.”
“I’m terribly sorry.” I’ll cream her coffee with Milk of Magnesia.
“It’s okay. I’m here. We’re new friends.” He shrugged. “We could order dinner if you’re still hungry.”
“I’d like that,” she said. “Maybe I’ll even save room for dessert.”
“They do have the best coconut pie in town,” said Harrison, making her heart melt.
“That’s my favorite too,” she said.
“Do you mind if I order a drink?” He flagged down the waitress. “Would you like something? Daquiri or margarita?”
“I’ve never had either,” said Ethel. “Are they very strong? I usually like fruity drinks. Like a Shirley Temple.”
Harrison looked at her like she had a second head. “I see.”
The waitress came over, and Ethel gave her a smug look as she put two menus down on the table, both of which were wet and stuck together. While Ethel wiped them down with more of the handy paper towels, Harrison ordered.
“Bring me a Jack and coke, and for the lady, make her a Dirty Shirley.” The waitress smiled and hurried off to get the drinks.
“A Dirty Shirley?” She had never heard a Shirley Temple called that before.
“Oh, sorry,” Harrison gave a devilish smile. “That’s just what we call them these days.”
Ethel knew how much times had changed since she’d been to a bar. “I see. I just love grenadine. I put it over ice cream at times when I want to have a little fun.”
“Sounds like you’re a wild woman.” His voice was a bit flat, and it put Ethel on edge.
He didn’t seem like the friendly Harrison from the party. Instead, he made things feel forced, and his short attitude wasn’t very attractive. Aside from that, he took out his cell phone and began to fiddle with the device as they waited for their drinks.
The waitress came over and brought their cocktails, and Ethel wasted no time taking a sip.
“Have you decided what you’d like to eat?” the waitress asked.
“I’ll have the steak, rare. And make it a separate ticket.”
“Oh, no, I insist on paying, Mr. Spoke.” Ethel hadn’t expected for him
to pay for hers, but it was abundantly clear where this date was going. Velma had ruined it from the beginning, and now she was the one trying to get out of it with as little egg on her face as possible. She figured at this point, she might as well start asking those questions.
“I’ll have the steak too, and make mine medium-well, please. And two slices of coconut pie for dessert.”
“Thank you.” Harrison barely looked up from his phone as the waitress gathered the menus and walked away.
“So, what kind of hobbies do you like, Harrison?” She took a sip of her drink, and while the thing was a bit different, she decided they’d put way too much grenadine syrup in it.
“I like making money mostly. I guess I’d call that my hobby.”
Ethel thought that was dull but was only asking to create a segue. “You mean you don’t like hunting and fishing? What’s that stuffing animals kind of thing that Everett did? Taxidermy?”
“I collect, but I don’t stuff them myself. Not many men do. Everett sent his to Bud across town, but most of his collection was bought. He was a much better showman than hunter. Started collecting after his wife died. She never liked all that stuff.”
“It didn’t seem like Alice liked it much either.”
“Yeah, those two don’t make any sense. She had been trying to get him to stop adding to his collection, but he said it was better to ask for forgiveness instead of permission.”
“She seemed very passionate about it. I wonder if that’s why she wanted to kill him.” Ethel didn’t want to be too obvious about the topic.
Harrison gave a sour look. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t know who would have wanted him dead. He was too much of an asset to the community.”
Ethel grew nervous and took another sip of her drink, which tasted a bit like the grenadine was getting old. She didn’t want to make a fuss though, and the taste was still quite pleasant. “I don’t know,” she said. “He did seem a bit harsh and unlikable.”
“He was many things, but that’s no reason to kill anyone.”
“But business is a good reason. You had business with him, didn’t you?” She took another sip and gave him a smile, but he didn’t give her one in return.
“Is that what this is, Ethel? Your sister couldn’t get what she wanted from me, and so you’re here to try and use your wiles? I think you both underestimate me. For one, I’m not that desperate, and two, I’m not guilty of the crime. I suggest if you want to play sleuthing games, you should go find an escape room. I’ve heard the college has put on a nice one at the museum.” He turned up his drink, and in two gulps, it was gone. “I think I’ll let you take my steak home to your sister.” He gestured toward the bar. “Have a good evening.”
As he got up to leave, Ethel hurried out of the booth and stopped him. “I’m so sorry, Harrison. I didn’t mean to accuse you.”
Harrison’s face grew red with anger. “I’m just so sick of this. I lost a friend. I don’t know why you can’t see that. If you want to find out who did it, look to motives and opportunity. With everyone around, it had to have been carefully planned, and I didn’t have one. I’ve been in his life a long time. I cared about him. I wasn’t like one of the vultures circling, like that girlfriend of his.” He pushed past her, and Ethel held her heart, watching him go.
Velma waited for him to pass and hurried over to the booth where Ethel had sat back down. When she slid into the seat across from her, she had to ask. “Well, did he tell you anything?”
Ethel took another drink. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell him he was meeting me! And then everything I said pissed him off, which was all well and good, seeing as he didn’t want to be here with me in the first place.” She looked down at her drink. “This Dirty Shirley isn’t anything like the Shirley Temples I’ve had in the past. What else is going to go wrong?”
Velma could tell Ethel was a bit flustered and flushed, and she took the drink and gave it a sniff. “This is alcohol, Ethel.”
“No, no. It’s not. It’s just a new name for it.”
Velma shook her head. “Ethel, you’re drunk.”
“Drunk? And on a Sunday?” She held her hand to her heart. “Oh, Velma. I’m going to Hell.”
“You’re not going to Hell.” Velma pushed the glass aside. “Come on. We had better get you home. You can tell me all about what happened on the way.”
“I’m never speaking to you again,” she said.
“Don’t try and get on my good side.”
“You’re mean, and you knew that this wouldn’t end well.”
“I had no idea. And think of it this way, you can always say you had a date with Harrison Spoke.”
Ethel held her head high. “Yes, I can. And it wouldn’t even be a lie.”
Chapter 23
Despite their conversation as they waited on their steaks which they took to go, Ethel had fallen into a deep silence with Velma. Not only had she proven she was upset with the silent treatment, but when Velma woke up the next morning, Miss Vicky was eating her breakfast.
She walked in to find the cat sitting up in the chair with his nose in a plate of eggs.
“Well, I guess someone’s still angry with me,” she said on the way to the sink.
Ethel chewed on a piece of toast and kept her attention on the magazine in front of her. She had renewed her subscription to Crochet Today, and while she had rarely made anything from its pages, she had a lot of things on her wish list.
“Oh, all right. I’m sorry. I did a horrible thing, and you hate me. But you’re going to have to talk to me, Ethel. I need to know what was said.”
“I barely got an answer from him about anything. He got so angry right away and left. I’ll never live it down, and I hope I never see him again.”
“You’ll be fine, Ethel. Next time, don’t get too attached to a man who has no interest in you.”
“You told him he was meeting a lover. It really showed me what kind of man he is.”
“Well, with Harrison, Jean Pierre, and Reeves out of the way, that just leaves the mayor and the grieving girlfriend. I just can’t see either of them committing the crime, but we know it wasn’t Ray. I think I’m going to have to look at this from a different perspective.” Velma poured herself a cup of coffee and brought it to the table, shooing Miss Vicky from her chair. She put the cat’s plate on the floor, and before she could sit down, she snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it.”
She left the room and went to the hall closet, where Ethel not only stored linens but the old family board games. She pulled out Clue and took it to the kitchen with her.
“That’s the old game we used to play,” she said. “I’m not playing with you. We’re missing most of the pieces anyway.”
“I’m not playing the game, Ethel. I’m going to create a storyboard like they do in the movies.” She walked over to the fridge where a magnetized post-it pad hung, along with a pen, that Ethel used for grocery lists.
Then she went to the kitchen drawer for the freezer paper and a roll of tape. “I’m going to make this into Gaines Manor, and maybe it will help spark a memory or at least put everything in perspective.”
“Suit yourself, but I get to be Ms. Scarlet.” She reached into the musty, yellowed box and pulled out the red piece. “You can be Mrs. White.”
“I was always Colonel Mustard,” said Velma. “But we’re not playing the game. I want to designate a piece for each person in the house.”
“I’ll get the label maker. We’ll make labels and stick them to the pieces.” She got up and went to the room while Velma pulled out enough freezer paper to cover the board and put it flat-side up before taping it down.
She carefully drew each room, including the long hall, which made things much smaller scale than the original game board. When Ethel returned, she sat across the table making labels of each name, and they spent the next half hour working until they had finished.
“There,” Ethel said. “Now we have all the labels, but we’re short a few gam
e pieces.”
“Go find another game and rob the pieces if you want.”
Ethel jumped up. “Sorry!” she yelled as she ran out of the room.
“What are you sorry for? Did your laxative kick in again?” She was still drawing the house and trying to make sure there was room for the garage.
Ethel didn’t answer until she returned. “No, silly. I meant the game Sorry. It has all of those pieces. There’s plenty now.” She had a handful of pawns from the other game and busied herself labeling each one.
Velma finally got everything set. “Now, let’s put all of the people where they go.” She moved everyone to the dining room and accounted for everyone. Then she moved the players around according to her memory.
“Now, we were here when the lights went out the second time,” she said, putting herself, Ethel, and Calvin in the kitchen.
“So we’re still narrowed down to the same group, excluding Reeves. He wasn’t in the game room when the murder took place. So, that takes him out of the picture. Of the others, someone has to have a better motive. I’m not sure Alice would cut her own arm, but then again, if she wanted to divert attention from herself, that’s a good way to do it.”
“I do remember something Harrison said. He called her a vulture. I think he thought that she must have been with Everett for his money. And maybe she was just waiting for him to die. Do you think she could have sped things along?”
“The will would have had to been changed. He was her meal ticket.”
“Harrison also said this would have been a person with opportunity.”
“You know what struck me funny was the way she wanted to stay with his body. I mean, all alone with his corpse.”
“But she wasn’t alone. She was with Ray, remember?”
“True. I hate to say it, but it doesn’t look good for Ray. As much as I want to believe he’s innocent, there’s a good chance he’s been lying to us.”
“Well, whoever it was certainly got lucky with the storm. With the power outages, they certainly had enough time to kill someone and get away with it.”