by Marja McGraw
The doorbell rang and I left her in charge of the sizzling bacon, with Bubba watching her adoringly, while I went to let Pete in. The mutt had been watching me adoringly until I’d turned the bacon task over to my mother.
Opening the door, I found him with my newspaper in his hand. He held it out to me and asked, “Any chance you might cook me some breakfast?”
“Any chance you could give me a hug first?” I liked my counter offer.
Apparently, so did he, judging by his bear hug.
“I’m a little worried about my mother, Pete.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“For starters, she can’t erase the picture of Jolly from her mind. She slept in my bed last night, and I’m sure it was because she didn’t want to be alone. That’s followed up by the fact that she thinks she’s a match for Mavis.”
“She is, isn’t she?” Pete shrugged, seeming to think it was perfectly natural to pit my mother against the Queen.
Maybe he was right.
“If anyone can knock that witch off her broom, it’s your mother. What are you going to see Mavis about?” he asked, taking the newspaper back from me and pulling the rubber band off.
“I want to see if she’s remembered anything else. It’s almost like she’s only going to give me bits and pieces of information so she can drag this out and bug me. She opened up to Chris, but not all the way. I’m sure she remembers more than she’s saying, but I get on her nerves.”
“Nooo, you?”
Rolling my eyes at him, I turned and headed for the kitchen. “Mother, Pete’s going to eat with us. Throw on a couple more slices of bacon, would you?”
“I already added a few slices for Bubba. Pete can have the dog’s share.”
“Oh, great. Now I’m eating the dog’s food.” Pete pulled out a chair and sat down, opening the paper and losing himself in it. My mother and I no longer existed, at least until he finished reading about local and world events.
It was turning out to be a lovely morning. It felt very comfortable with my mother and Pete taking up space in my kitchen.
After eating, Pete carried his dishes to the sink and rinsed off his plate. “I spoke to both Chris and Stan this morning. Stan was going to spend the day with you, but Chris has an appointment this afternoon, so they’re switching shifts. Any problem with that?”
“No, that’s fine. My curiosity is kicking in though. Chris has an appointment almost every afternoon. I hope there’s nothing wrong with him.” Chris had told me he was fine, but this was one too many appointments in my book. I had to admit it really wasn’t any of my business though.
“I guess Chris will be going to Mavis’s with us today, which isn’t exactly a bad thing. She does respond to him and his Bogey act.”
“Oh, good.” My mother sounded delighted. Mavis wasn’t the only one who reacted to the Bogey Man.
“You like that guy?” Pete asked.
“Of course. It’s like spending time with Humphrey Bogart. What’s not to like?”
Mother and Pete stared at each other, and Pete blinked first. He looked away. “I just don’t get it,” he said, shaking his head.
“No, I’m sure you don’t.” I thought maybe if Pete was dealing with a Marilyn Monroe look-alike, it might make more sense, but I let it go. No need to start a discussion on that scenario.
Chris arrived just as Pete was leaving. They nodded when they passed each other on the walkway, not saying a word. Chris smiled at me, after he passed by Pete.
I sighed and rolled my eyes. The eye rolling wasn’t far behind my sighing habit. I’d been doing this more often lately, and needed to put a stop to it.
“Chris, would you give me a ride to the store?” my mother asked. She had her car parked out front, but I knew in my heart that she wanted to be seen with him in the classic green Chevy.
“Will it bother you to be here alone?” Chris asked, looking at me.
“No, I need to be here to let in the repairman. I want that broken window taken care of today.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. I’ll be fine. It’s daytime and people are out and about. Besides, Dolly said she’d keep an eye on things until we get this business cleared up, and I can let Bubba in if I feel nervous.”
After they left I washed the breakfast dishes. I was just folding the dish towel when I heard someone knock on the front door. I opened the back door and let Bubba out so he wouldn’t frighten the repairman.
Opening the front door, I found the mailman standing with a package in his hand.
“This was too big to put in your mailbox,” he said, handing it to me. “You know, there are regulations about size. You might want to think about installing a larger mailbox. It would sure make my life easier.” He sounded disgusted.
“I’ll take care of it. Thanks.” I almost never receive packages, so I was surprised at his attitude.
I had no idea who might be sending me a package, and there was no return address on it. My name and address had been printed in a childlike script. This did not bode well, and I lifted it to my ear. No ticking. Okay, so once in a while I can be silly. I smiled to myself and closed the front door. I studied the printing on the paper for a brief moment. It didn’t tell me anything, of course.
Back in the kitchen, I pulled a pair of scissors out of the drawer and cut the tape on the shoebox-sized package. On a whim, I decided to carefully cut the paper and save it. Fingerprints? With that thought in mind, I put on a pair of rubber gloves that I kept under the sink.
Maybe you should wait until your mother and Chris come back, I thought to myself. Silly woman. If someone hadn’t taped that picture to the door, you wouldn’t even worry about opening this package. I pondered my thoughts for about thirty seconds.
Still… My curiosity won out.
I carefully took the paper off the box and lifted the lid. It was a five-piece cutlery set. Small steak knives. Huh. It wasn’t my birthday, and why would someone mail me a set of knives anyway? They didn’t really look new.
I lifted them out and held them in one hand while looking to see if there was a card underneath. There were two other things in the box.
There was a piece of plain white paper with more childlike printing on it. It reminded me of a right-handed person using their left hand to try to disguise their writing. “Thought you might need these to protect yourself.”
My heart sped up. Was this someone’s idea of a joke? It wasn’t funny.
I carefully lifted the note out of the box by its corner, looking to see what lie underneath. It was another photo of me, but not in costume. This one had been taken in front of my house when I walked out to pick up the newspaper. Surprise, surprise. There was a Big Red X drawn across my face.
There was a noise behind me, and then a voice said, “What’s that?”
Knives went flying everywhere. I think I may have whimpered. I swung around to face my attacker.
Chapter Thirty-three
All I saw were two backsides running out of the room. I patted my chest and waited for my heart to slow down.
“Mother? Chris? It’s okay to come back.” I was thankful the knives hadn’t flown in their direction.
My mother peeked her pale pixie face around the doorframe. “Sandra, what the heck is going on? Why would you throw knives at us?” Her voice was shaky.
I sat down at the kitchen table, knees still knocking. “I didn’t mean to. You two practically snuck up on me, and I didn’t recognize Chris’s voice. You scared me.”
“We didn’t sneak up on you, dear. You were just very absorbed in what you were doing.” Mother sounded defensive, and I couldn’t blame her.
Chris quick-stepped over to the sink counter where he examined my package. “I can see why you didn’t hear us. Where did this come from?”
“The mailman just brought it.”
My hands felt clammy and I pulled off the gloves, no longer worrying about fingerprints.
The doorbell rang. My ho
me was beginning to feel like Grand Central Station, minus the trains.
“I’ll get it for you,” Chris said, turning on his heel and marching out of the room.
“What’s this all about?” Mother asked. She glanced toward the package, but refrained from going near it.
“It’s another threat. I’ll tell you, Mom, if I’ve come close enough to someone to make them worry, I’m sure not aware of it.”
“Well, it looks like it’s a good thing I’m here.” She glanced at the package again.
“Yes, Mother, I’m glad you’re here, believe it or not. You can look in the box if you want to. Just don’t touch anything.”
She shook her head. “I’ll look at it later.”
Chris returned to the kitchen with Rick Mason following.
“Another threat? Tell me more. And why are there steak knives all over the floor?” Rick asked, picking one up and setting it on the sink. I must have been speaking loudly for him to have heard my mother and me talking.
“Hi Rick. About the steak knives…” I proceeded to tell him the history of the costume picture with the Big Red X and the about the delivery of the package.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” I could hear the anger and accusation in his voice. “I’m working on solving a murder. No, actually it’s two murders now. Did it ever occur to you to… No, I guess it didn’t. It’s time for you to learn a lesson. I’m the cop. You’re the private investigator. Let’s see, which one of us should solve the murders? Oh, yeah. That would be me.” He picked up my gloves and used them to pick up the rest of the knives, setting them beside the box. He briefly examined the note and the new photograph.
“Rick, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have, but I assumed that Pete would have told you what’s been going on.”
He walked back to the table and laid the gloves down. “Other than last night, at the crime scene, I haven’t talked to Pete since he asked about the autopsy on Purity Patton. You’d better pull your act together, and I mean in a hurry.”
“Rick, I said I’m sorry. Things have just been so busy, and – ”
“Too busy to cooperate with the police? Be careful, little lady, or you’re just liable to have your license pulled. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I saw my mother narrow her eyes at Rick, but fortunately he was zeroing in on me.
“Yes, I do.” I tried to vindicate myself. “I did drop off Stanley’s party photos for you.” It was a lame attempt, at best.
“Are you going to back off now and let me do my job?”
I couldn’t stop. Someone was after me, and I had to keep going. “Rick, I have to do my job, too, but I’ll tell you everything I find out. Deal?”
“No.”
“But – ”
“I said no, but I know you’re not going to listen to me. You never listen to anyone.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
I tried to smile innocently, but couldn’t quite pull it off.
Rick seemed to be calming down, finally, but I wasn’t sure why. He had the psychological advantage. I was still sitting at the table, and he was standing over me, looking down. Maybe that was it. Or maybe he was simply giving up.
He leaned over, his face closer to mine. “I’ll just say this. If you screw up this investigation, you can wave bye-bye to your license and your agency. I know we’re friends, but that ain’t gonna hold water if you get in my way.”
“Rick, I promise, I won’t hold back, and I won’t get in your way. All I’m going to do today is go talk to Mavis Brewer.”
“Good luck with that one.” He smiled, an evil expression. “Better you than me. All that one wants to do is sue everyone, including yours truly.”
“Why did you come over here, Detective?” Leave it to my mother go straight to the point.
“Oh, yeah. Lost my train of thought for a minute. I want to go over a couple of details about last night.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Why, exactly, did you drive over to the studio last night? You were a little vague about that when I asked. All you said was that you had an appointment with him. Were you there to have your picture taken? I think probably not.”
“Okay, now that you know about the threats, this will make more sense to you. I called Jolly and accused him of trying to break into my house.”
Rick glanced at the broken window and frowned.
“He didn’t deny it, although he didn’t admit it either. So I told him I wanted to meet with him. He said he’d wait for me at the studio. He did, but apparently, not willingly. Someone beat us to him.”
Rick made some notes in his book. “That’s it?”
“Yes. I wanted to corner him about why he tried to break in, but he was already dead when we got there.”
“Why do you think he tried to break in?” Chris asked.
Rick gave him a withering look. “Do you mind? I’m trying to conduct an investigation here.”
Chris gave Rick a Bogey gangster look. It didn’t work like it does on women; Rick ignored him. Chris leaned back on the sink counter and stuck an unlit cigarette in his mouth, squinting as though smoke was billowing up into his face.
I didn’t see Rick roll his eyes, but I had a feeling that he’d done it mentally.
“I think Jolly killed Purity, and I think he may have thought I was too close to the truth. I kept asking him about the photos from the party. First, his copies were supposedly stolen, which I have my doubts about. In fact, I have a feeling he stole Felicity’s copies. And then, when I had Stanley’s film developed, Jolly seemed a little too interested in the pictures.” I’d been thinking about it, and it made perfect sense to me.
“So then, who do you think murdered Jolly?” Rick asked. “I want to hear your well thought-out ideas about his death.”
“That one’s got me stumped.”
“Uh huh. And somehow you think Mavis may hold the answers to this puzzle?”
Rick was getting on my nerves.
“I know Mavis is holding something back. Or at least I think she is.”
“Okay, Sandi, that’s all for now. But I want to know everything you find out, no exceptions. Understand?”
My annoyance grew. He was speaking slowly, as if to an errant child. I stood up and faced him. “Yes, Rick, I understand. Nothing could keep me from telling you what I find out, no matter how insignificant.”
“Good. We understand each other.”
“That we do. Anything else?” I knew I sounded angry and I was glad.
“That’s it,” Rick said. “I’ll be expecting to hear from you. And I’ll be taking your package, as possible evidence. We’ll check it for prints.” With that, Rick put the knives back in the box and left.
No one spoke a word until we heard the front door close.
Mother stood up and looked toward the front of the house. “Of all the nerve…”
“No, Mom, he’s right. I should have told him everything as it happened. I just didn’t like being bawled out in front of you two.”
“Okay, let’s get this show on the road. You’re in a jam, Cupcake, and we need to clear the air.” Chris took the cigarette out of his mouth and pulled his lips back in a Bogey grimace, making his overbite more apparent. Untying the belt on his trench coat, he let it hang open. I could see the chain from a pocket watch hanging down the side of his pants, a new addition.
We drove to Mavis’s house and parked in front of the neighbor’s home because a garbage truck was pulling up to our target destination. The neighbor hadn’t put out a can so we weren’t in their way.
The three of us walked up the driveway, heading for the walkway. It had two forks, one to the sidewalk and street, and one to the driveway. The garage door was open and Mavis’s car was inside.
I rang the doorbell and stepped back, leaving Chris to greet Mavis. My mother stood behind me.
We waited, but there was no answer.
“Ring it again.” Mother wasn’t a particularly patient
woman.
Chris pushed the button and we waited. We knew it was working because we could hear the bell sound inside the house.
Chris put his ear to the door, listening for any sounds of movement. He shook his head. “Nothing.”
My mother pointed at the doorbell. “Ring it one more time. Her car is here, so she must be here, too. If she left in someone else’s car, I’m sure she would have closed her garage door. I would have.”
“She could be visiting a neighbor.” I glanced around at the surrounding houses. “Nah, with her personality I’ll bet the neighbors run when they see her coming.”
Chris laughed. “I can picture doors and windows slamming. If I concentrate, I can almost hear them.”
“Uh oh. After what’s happened to Purity and Jolly, you don’t think…” Mother left her thought unfinished.
Filling in the blank, I peeked through the front window, but I didn’t see any dead bodies or blood. Everything looked neat and clean.
A noise like a mechanical rumble caught my attention. I recognized the sound and looked at Mavis’s house with fire in my eyes. “You two wait here. I’ll be right back.”
Chapter Thirty-four
I stepped off the porch and scurried to the driveway and the side of the house. Poor, poor Mavis. She wasn’t too bright. She’d used the garage door opener to close the garage, trying to pretend she wasn’t home.
I returned to the porch with a mental picture of Mavis peeking out through the peephole in the door.
“Okay, let’s go. She’s obviously out for the day.” I spoke loudly, making sure Mavis would hear me. Quietly, I stooped and dropped my keys on the porch mat.
We stepped off the porch and started down the walkway, past the house, and ended up at the driveway. Grabbing my mother’s arm, I pulled her to the side of the house. Chris followed.
It was only a moment until I heard the front door open. Walking rapidly, I headed back to the porch.
“Mavis,” I called. “Guess you didn’t hear the doorbell.”