by Marja McGraw
Her face turned a bright, unbecoming shade of red. “Oh, dear. Uh, no, I guess I didn’t. I was, uh, just coming out to check the mail. Uh, I mean, to bring in the trash receptacle.”
“Oh, well, what great timing. We were about to leave, but I couldn’t find my keys and figured maybe I’d dropped them on your porch. Ah, yes, here they are.” I picked up my keys and swung the key ring around my index finger.
I motioned to Chris and my mother to join me. Chris started up the walk in front of her.
Mavis saw Chris and her face lit up, the flush gone in an instant. “Mr. Cross. Good to see…”
Mother stepped around Chris.
“…you. Who’s she?”
Mother stepped forward and held out her hand. “I’m Livvie Brewster.”
Mavis looked at Mother’s hand like it was covered with killer bees. Mother ignored the look and grabbed Mavis’s hand, shaking it hard.
“This is Mavis Brewer,” I said, looking into my mother’s eyes.
She was setting the tone for our visit, but I felt it was too soon to be pushy. We weren’t even in the house yet.
“Well, we have something in common already.” Mother continued to shake the hand she’d grabbed.
Mavis reclaimed her hand. “And what might that be?”
“I’m a Brewster, and you’re a Brewer. Only two letter’s difference.” It was a major stretch, even for my mother.
Chris decided to intercede. “Shweetheart, may we come inside?”
Even with Chris’s Bogeyism, Mavis gave it a long count before moving away from the door so we could troop past her.
We sat down, mother and me on the couch and Chris on an overstuffed chair. Mavis was stuck with the weird and uncomfortable little chair. I thought this might be a short visit.
“Mavis,” I began, “if you’d just tell us everything you can remember about that night, I wouldn’t have to bother you again.”
“If you bother me again, Ms. Webster, I’ll have to consider charging you with stalking.”
Mother chuckled. “Stalking? Never gonna happen.”
“And why is that?” Mavis clenched her teeth.
“You haven’t got a leg to stand on. Sandi isn’t stalking you. You, on the other hand, are impeding a murder investigation.”
Mavis sputtered. “Why, why… I’ll sue you for slander.”
Mother’s purse sat on her lap. She opened it, making a big production of it, and pulled something out. “Do you see this?”
She held something for Mavis to examine, but didn’t hand it to her.
“What’s that?” Mavis looked suspicious.
“That’s a tiny tape recorder.” Mother pushed the Record button. “I’m going to record everything you say today. If there’s going to be a lawsuit, I’ll be the plaintiff. Now answer Sandi’s question.”
“Who are you?” Mavis looked nervous.
“I’m Sandi’s mother, and don’t you forget it.”
Mother pulled a small folding fan out of her purse. She began furiously working it near her face.
Mavis watched for a moment. “Oh, no. Hot flash?”
Mother nodded.
“Mood swings?”
My mother nodded again.
Mavis turned to me. “What do you want to know?”
It had been too easy. That worried me.
“I want to know what else you remember about the night of the party. I want to know everything this time.”
“And she does mean everything, Doll,” Chris said.
“I’ve told you most of it.” Mavis appeared to be uncomfortable, rearranging herself on the chair.
“You saw something else that night, didn’t you?” It was an accusation, not a question.
“I saw a couple of things.” She didn’t elaborate.
“Mavis, don’t stop there. I need to know. If you won’t tell me, then you’ll have to talk to the police.”
“Why you little…” She glanced at the tape recorder and didn’t voice the name she’d been about to call me.
Mother smiled sweetly and continued to fan herself. “Be careful about calling my daughter names, Ms. Lawsuit Queen.”
Mavis’s mouth opened and my mother tapped her fingernail against the recorder. Mavis’s mouth closed.
“Me or the police. It’s your choice.” I set my mouth in a firm, straight line.
Mavis looked like she was ready to explode. She stood. “I, I…”
Mother tapped the recorder again.
Mavis sat down. “I saw Traci Marks heading around the house and toward the backyard. I had the impression she was trying to be sneaky, but with that airhead, well, that doesn’t mean anything.” She stopped talking again.
“And?” I prompted.
“And nothing.”
“Ms. Brewer, I’m becoming impatient.” Mother tapped her foot. Even though she was fanning herself, her face was turning red. I wondered how she could create that visual effect on demand.
Mavis stood again. “Listen, you hormonal pain in the neck, I’ll – ”
Mother also stood and she shoved the recorder under Mavis’s nose. “You’ll what?” she demanded. “And please use my name when speaking to me.”
“I don’t recall your name.”
“It’s Livvie. Remember that name.”
“I’ll have your hide, Livvie.” Mavis leaned forward with her hands on her hips.
“You and what army? And speak up.” Mother was almost nose-to-nose with Mavis, and she shook the recorder at her.
“Me and this army.” Mavis shook her fist at my mother. “Why, I won’t even need an army, you little pipsqueak. Excuse me. I meant Livvie, you little pipsqueak.” She spat the name out.
Mother spoke into the recorder. “Mavis Brewer is shaking her fist at me, Livvie Brewster. I have witnesses. Sandi Webster and Humphrey… uh, Chris Cross.”
“Did you hear me, Livvie?” Mavis asked. “I said I won’t need an army.”
“Listen, honey, you may outweigh me, but I’m leaner and meaner. I’m faster and limber. I’m – ”
“You nasty little woman, you.” Mavis’s voice had gone up several octaves. She was red in the face again.
“Go ahead,” Mother said. “I dare you to call me some more names.” She turned her head toward me. “I’m getting this all on tape, Sandi.”
“You witch! You… You sawed-off shrimp of a witch. I’ll pull your hair out by its dyed roots, if you don’t get out of here and leave me alone.”
“Ha! I wouldn’t talk about roots, if I were you, Ms. Needs a Dye Job. You…”
I missed the rest of what my mother said. This was out of control. Mavis would never answer my questions. This wasn’t what I’d expected from my mother. She seemed to be baiting Mavis, but I wasn’t sure why.
Mavis had had enough. “Get out of my house you bitch. I don’t care if you’re menopausal or not; I don’t have to take this. Out!”
Mother folded her arms across her chest. “Nope. I’m not moving. I’ve got you on tape. You answer Sandi’s questions or I’ll use this tape. You get my drift?”
“Don’t forget, you’re on that recording, too.” Mavis looked quite pleased with herself.
“Wanna bet?”
“But…”
I was as confused as Mavis. Mother grinned, not caring about Mavis and her lawsuits.
Mother rewound the tape a little and played some of it for Mavis. At first, you could hear Mavis and my mother. After a couple of minutes, Mavis’s voice came through loud and clear, and then there was silence before Mavis could be heard again, screeching.
“Mother?” I didn’t get it.
“When I spoke, I turned the volume off. When Mavis spoke, I turned it up again.”
Mavis had lost the battle, and she knew it. She sank onto the small chair and leaned back, looking at me imploringly. “Can’t you make your mother shut up?”
“If you’ll just tell me the rest of what you remember, we’ll get out of here and I won’t be back.
Neither will my mother.”
Mavis sighed. “I saw the Boogey Man slinking around outside of Felicity’s house.
“You mean Bogey?” I swung my hand in Chris’s direction.
“No. I mean the Boogey Man. Jolly. Remember? He was dressed like a zombie.”
“Okay, what do you mean by slinking around?” I asked. I wanted her to be as specific as possible.
“Jolly crept around the side of the house, not long before Bogey headed that way.” She glanced at Chris.
“So you mean Chris, not my partner who was also dressed like Bogey.”
“That’s exactly what I mean. Your partner was busy putting out that fire when I saw Chris sneak around the house.”
“I wasn’t sneaking,” Chris said. “I was – ”
“Chris, you were sneaking,” I said. “You were crashing the party.”
“Well, yeah, but…” He had no defense. He had been sneaking.
“What else, Mavis?” I asked.
“That’s about it. I saw Purity head for the back, and then a couple of minutes later I saw Traci scurrying that way. Jolly followed both women, and a few minutes later your friend, Bogey, headed back there, too. I thought about following along to see what was going on, but I decided I didn’t want to know. For all I knew, it was a tryst of some kind. I didn’t want to be involved.”
“You saw Purity come back to the party? Why didn’t you tell me this before? What’s the matter with you, lady? Did you tell the police you saw her?”
“Well, no, I didn’t. I thought it best to mind my own business.” Mavis’s voice sounded contrite. She should have shared this information with Rick.
“I can’t believe you kept this to yourself. A regular parade headed for the backyard, behind Purity, and you didn’t want to get involved?” I was angry and I knew Mavis could hear it in my voice.
“There is one more thing,” she said. “Maybe this will make up for what I did, or didn’t, do. Purity was having an affair with someone, and she was pregnant. I don’t think the baby was Joshua’s.”
Chapter Thirty-five
“Purity was having an affair?” I blinked. It surprised me, but I had to admit that it didn’t shock me.
“Yes, she was.” Mavis had the look on her face that some people get when they know they’re about to share a juicy piece of gossip. I half expected her to rub her hands together, and I knew she wasn’t trying to redeem herself.
“How did you find out about her affair?” I asked.
“I saw them and put two and two together. Then I confronted Purity about it. She was angry, but she didn’t deny it.”
“Two questions. Where did you see the happy couple and who was she seeing?”
Although my eyes were focused on Mavis, I could see my mother and Chris lean forward, anticipating her answer.
“I was driving home from visiting a friend…”
Mavis had a friend? Who would have guessed?
“…and stopped for a red light near an abortion clinic. Purity walked out the door and climbed into Jolly’s car. She leaned over to kiss him and he turned away from her. I could see his face, and he was furious. They drove off and I decided to follow along. I never did like him. I still can’t figure out what Purity saw in him.
“Anyway, I trailed them all the way to his house. They appeared to be arguing and never even noticed me behind them.”
I had a mental picture of Mavis following behind Purity and Jolly. The problem was that all I could see was the face of the witch who rode her bicycle so fervently in The Wizard of Oz.
“Wait a minute. Why did you refer to Jolly in the past tense?” It was my turn to lean forward in anticipation.
“Don’t look at me like that, Ms. Webster. Jolly’s murder was on the morning news. Jolly was a prominent figure in the industry. His death is actually a big deal. You know, he photographed some very famous people in his time. Taking those piddly little pictures at Felicity’s party was totally out of character for him.”
“Ah.”
“Now, if there’s nothing else, I’d like you all to leave.” Mavis stood up, ready to escort us out.
“There is one thing you’ve left out of your story. What makes you think the baby wasn’t Joshua’s? I’m assuming that you think the baby was Jolly’s, right? I mean, Jolly could have been doing a favor for Joshua by picking her up at the clinic.”
“I confronted Purity a couple of days after I saw them together. She knew I had her and she admitted everything. We argued, and she said if I ever told Joshua about seeing her at the clinic, she’d make my life a living hell. I had no doubt she would.”
“So she actually told you that the baby was Jolly’s?” my mother asked.
“Yes, she did. They’d argued because he didn’t want her to have the abortion. He wanted her to leave Joshua and move in with him. I think Jolly killed Purity because she wanted to stay with Joshua. I think he was angry and he took it out on her because he wasn’t man enough to take her away from Joshua King.”
“You do, do you?” I said. I thought she might be right, but I certainly wasn’t going to tell her that.
“Yes, I do. However, as much as I disliked Jolly, I disliked Purity even more. She was a mean and vicious woman. She didn’t care about anyone but herself.”
Coming from Mavis, that summation was priceless.
“So why didn’t you tell the police all of this?” I asked.
“Because that woman got what she deserved. Jolly should have received a reward, not a prison sentence.”
“Are you going to tell the police now?”
“No. Jolly is dead. What’s the point?” Mavis folded her arms in front of herself and spread her feet in a stubborn stance.
“Because it’s not over yet. Someone murdered Jolly, too.”
“Oh, well, no great loss. He was a boil on the rear end of humanity.”
I signaled Chris and my mother that we were leaving. As I walked to the door, I glanced back at Mavis. “You’re a great one to talk about mean and vicious, you…” I mumbled a name, not wanting her to hear me. I knew it would drive her nuts.
“I’ll sue you,” she yelled at my back.
“Wow!” my mother blurted. “That woman is really a piece of work. She makes me feel like a Sunday school teacher.”
Chris pulled at his tie, loosening it, and pointed back toward Mavis’s house. “I’m glad we’re outta that joint. That dame gives me the heebie-jeebies. Let’s scram before she decides to trail us.”
“I’m with you,” Mother said. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand. Oddly, I feel like I need to wash my hands, at the very least. She made me feel dirty.”
“Yeah, well I’m about to make her feel dirty,” I said. I pulled my cell phone out of my backpack and punched in Rick’s number. I was about to sic him on Mavis like a rabid dog on a bunny.
Rick was polite and cool toward me when he answered his phone. I told him the whole story, and he thawed nicely. “Thanks, Sandi. This is just the ammunition I need to deal with that old bat.”
“I’ve got more, Rick.” I told him about Mother recording Mavis.
“But that tape doesn’t carry any weight,” Rick said.
“You know that, and I know that, but apparently Mavis doesn’t. If she gives you any trouble, just tell her I gave you the audio tape. She’ll settle right down.”
Rick was a happy man when we hung up.
“Let’s drive over to In-N-Out and get a burger,” I suggested. “My treat. I could use some comfort food right now.”
Between the burger and fries and the ride home, I was finally able to relax. I listened to my mother and Chris banter in Bogeyese.
“I’m hoping Rick is going gunning for Mavis,” my mother said. “That dame needs to be brought down a few notches.”
“You’re right about that, Sister,” Chris said. “She’s lucky someone hasn’t bumped her off.”
“Ya know, I kinda thought maybe this would all come down to moola, but it’s not headi
ng that way.”
Mother had called shotgun, and I was once again seated in the back. I leaned forward and patted her shoulder. “None of this seems to be about money. It seems to be more about egos and feelings than anything else.”
“Yeah,” Chris said. “You’re right. It’s more about people being sore at each other. Who do these palookas think they are? The rest of us can be angry without knockin’ each other off.”
I leaned back in my seat. “Like I said, it’s more about egos with this crowd. But I still don’t get why someone killed Jolly.”
“It’s possible the two murders aren’t related,” my mother said. “I mean, if Jolly did rub out Purity, how does that relate to his death? Joshua was trying to kick Purity out, so her death would have been a plus for him. Mavis may be a lot of things, but I can’t feature her plunging a knife into anyone’s heart – maybe figuratively, but not actually. Besides, we know Jolly did the Homicidal Hula with Purity.”
“‘Homicidal Hula?’ Mother, you don’t sound like you’re taking this very seriously. Besides, we don’t know that for sure, even if it is a good guess.”
“Guess I’ve been reading too many humorous mysteries. It seems like some authors frequently put words together like that. And you’re right, we do need evidence.”
“This isn’t some book. This is real life. And although it doesn’t seem like Purity was very well-liked, she still deserves some respect in death.”
“You’re right, dear. I shouldn’t be so flip about her unceremonious departure from this world. Is that better?”
I sighed and turned to watch the scenery that consisted of stores, cars slipping in and out of traffic at a near snail’s pace and homeless people wandering the streets aimlessly.
We pulled up to my house and piled out of the car. I noticed Stanley’s car was sitting in Dolly’s driveway, and Pete’s was in mine.
I was unlocking my front door when they all trooped out of Dolly’s house, with Dolly in the lead and Bubba bringing up the rear. She looked like a woman with a purpose. Felicity was back and walked beside Stanley. Pete’s face looked pinched.
“It’s a good thing my granddaughter was here,” Dolly said.
“Chrissy was here?” I asked. “How are she and Tammi doing?”