by Sandi Scott
“I’ll bet.” Georgie gaped at Aleta. “Do you know what was stolen from their booth?”
“Oh, of course not. Dell won’t talk to regular vendors like us. Just the police,” said Neesee with a smirk. “Beau went over to see if he could help but was quickly turned away by some of Dell’s yes-men. It’s funny. Cole is dead, and it’s a terrible thing. He did have parents after all. But it hardly seems like he’s gone with everyone who comes from that particular space carrying on his legacy of being a grade-A pain in the butt.”
“Are the police over there now?” Georgie asked.
“I think so. They’ve been talking to all the vendors who’ve had stuff stolen. I don’t know what they wanted with all your business cards, Georgie. Just to be jerks, I guess.” Neesee winced as she spoke.
“It’s okay. I think I have some more. I’ll bring them by later.” Georgie was distracted. Before Neesee could say another word, she and Aleta were moving through the crowd toward the Nuclear Wolf booth. It was swamped with people, photographers, and police officers, and tucked deep inside the mix was Stan. But before Georgie could reach him, Officer Mosey blocked her path.
“Hi, Georgie. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you past.” His voice sounded strange.
“I just need to bend Stan’s ear for just a second.”
“I’m sorry, Georgie. I can’t let you through.” Mosey looked at Aleta and then looked over his shoulder. It was obvious that he felt awkward about what he was doing, but if those were his orders, he couldn’t get around them.
Aleta followed his gaze. Suddenly it all made sense. Maggie was standing next to Stan.
“It’s okay, Mosey.” Aleta patted the big officer’s shoulder before taking her sister by the arm. “We’ll catch up to him when he’s not busy. Come on, Georgie.”
“No. He’ll see me. He always . . .”
It was too late, and Georgie saw Maggie had already gotten to Stan’s ear. Was she really as upset as she was pretending to be? Was it that? Could it be? Was she actually crying?
For a second, Georgie wasn’t sure what to do. Part of her wanted to push through Mosey and confront Maggie right there. But another part of her wanted to just run away. What was wrong with her? She’d faced tougher people than this. She’d faced the threat of cancer. She’d been threatened with bodily harm by crazed criminals. Was she really about to turn tail and run from a woman with a chip on her shoulder?
Yup. That was exactly what she was going to do.
“I’m sorry, Mosey,” Georgie said without looking at him. “I’ll catch up to Stan later. How are you holding up?” she asked, finally looking up at the big officer.
“Could have used a few more hours of sleep, but that’s nothing new.” He smiled showing off the gap between his teeth.
“Well, you be careful. We’ll see you later,” Georgie said and started walking off alone. Aleta smiled at Mosey and hurried after her sister.
“Georgie, wait.”
“You know, Aleta. Maybe Maggie is right. Maybe I rely too much on Stan and should take a step back. Sure he’s a good guy and my best friend after you, of course.”
“Of course.” Aleta’s voice was soft with concern.
“I’m going to go and make a list.” Georgie nodded. “I’m going to go make a list of all the things we learned about Dell and Tabitha, and I’ll pass that along to Stan. He can do what he wants with it. But I think it would be best to let Maggie have this one.”
“Do you want me to help? I can take excellent dictation.”
“No, Aleta. I’m in the mood for a little alone time.” Georgie straightened her back, pulled her eye patch down, and headed off toward the exit.
When she stepped out into the common area of the event, she felt like she’d lost her bearings. All around her were people in their favorite comic book hero T-shirts or dressed in character. They had beautifully wild hair and clothes and carried props of all sizes with them. It should have been fun, but Georgie suddenly felt like a fish out of water. One person made her feel like she no longer belonged.
Maybe she was getting too comfortable in her situation. Could that be it?
“Well, why the heck shouldn’t I be?” she muttered. “I put up with quite a bit from that man. Quite a bit. Has he paid his dues? No. Not hardly. Not where I’m concerned.” Her steps became quicker as she headed in the direction of the exit and, ultimately, the hotel.
Her thoughts about Stan and Maggie wrapped her mind up so tightly that she didn’t want to be bothered with so much as the doorman. She wanted to be alone, sooner rather than later. That was one of the great things about being in the city. She could be on a crowded street and still be able to enjoy her solitude.
Sure, some people looked at her pirate getup, but no more than they looked at the people dressed like spacemen or superheroes in tights who also were meandering down the sidewalk.
“The problem is I don’t even know who to be mad at. Maggie or Stan. Maybe both for good measure.” She continued to quietly mumble to herself as she crossed beneath Lake Shore Drive using the pedway. This particular route branched off down a scenic sidewalk that lead to a side entrance of The Blackstone Hotel. It was just a couple steps off the main street, down a curved sidewalk with a tiny patch of grass on one side and the entrance to an alley on the other. There were two green city dumpsters and the rusty steps of a fire escape dangling down like weird, rusty vines against the opposite building. Georgie wanted to wash off the grime of the day and start over fresh. Heck, maybe she’d even take a nap and just vow to talk to Stan tomorrow on the last day of the event.
“Now isn’t the time to go off half-cocked. What you need is a hot bath, a change of clothes, maybe a Hershey bar, and then you’ll be ready to face Stan and Maggie and whatever else might be thrown in your way.” She stopped where she was to dig in her purse for her hotel key card. Before she could find it, she noticed someone standing unusually close to her. Had she not been wearing the patch on her eye, she might have noticed him sooner. When she looked up, her heart jumped.
“Malcolm,” she stuttered as she pulled her patch from her eye, “what are you doing? Are you staying at this hotel?”
“You are a really hard person to get alone,” he said.
“Get alone?”
“You’ve always got that woman hanging around you. I knew if I was patient, I’d finally see an opening but even Job would have been getting antsy by now.”
“What are you talking about, Malcolm?”
“I thought Cole was hard to get alone. That Dell was always hovering around somewhere, looking for any chance to act like a big man when everyone knew he was just dragging along on Cole’s coattails.” He licked his lips nervously. “There was always a woman around Cole, too. Tabitha. Rachael. Zoey. I hate the name Zoey.”
“Me too,” Georgie stuttered, not knowing what else to say as she backed further into the alley. “Malcolm, I was just about to go buy myself a Hershey bar. Would you like to come with me? I’ll buy one for you too.”
He grinned, but there was nothing kind about it. Malcolm Heady had written a story in his head. Georgie was going to be the next victim to fall to whatever hero or villain he’d dreamt up.
Chapter 11
It was only a few long strides to get to the hotel door. All Georgie had to do was climb up four cement steps, yank open the door, and run to the lobby as if the devil was chasing her. The only thing in her way was Malcolm.
“Surprisingly, Dell didn’t follow Cole to the bathroom last night,” he chuckled. “It really is surprising. I didn’t think Cole knew how to wipe his own a . . .”
“You didn’t have to kill him,” Georgie interrupted. “You could have sued him. You could have exposed him as a fraud.”
“What?”
“Now, you’ve just made him even more famous, and no one will know anything about your talent or your work. They’ll just know you as the guy who killed Cole Ness,” Georgie said as she slowly took a step backward. Her hands were out
behind her, her fingers splayed as she felt for something, anything that might help her. So far, she’d just come up with air.
“What are you talking about? I’m going to be huge. This is going to be bigger than the Kennedy assassination.” Malcolm’s lips were wet with spit. “Not that anyone today cares what happened to Kennedy.”
“But you said Cole stole your ideas. You accused him of that in front of everyone.” Georgie tilted her head as if even she didn’t quite understand her own words.
“Did I say that?” Malcolm asked as he reached into medium-sized souvenir bag that the Wizard-Hero-Con staff had been passing out for free to all the attendees. In his hand was a silver tube that at first Georgie thought was a lead pipe. Whatever it was, it had to be the same thing he had used to kill Cole.
“What are you coming after me for?” Georgie stuttered. “I didn’t steal anything from you. I didn’t take your work and call it mine. In fact, I gave you a sympathetic ear. A shoulder to cry on. I didn’t even go get security, which was probably a bad idea now that I look back.”
“You were snooping around the entire show.” He gritted his teeth. “You thought you were so smart following me. I was following you. I saw you talking with the detective and the officers. I saw you sneak into the crime scene. I saw you arguing with some other woman. From where I was standing, she really gave it to you. What were you doing? Trying to steal her man? I’d have quite a few more restraining orders if people really knew me. If they’d just pay attention.” He chuckled as if it were nothing more than a game of hide-and-seek.
Georgie believed him. How he had snuck back into the mixer, she didn’t know, but she had seen him with her own two eyes. He was used to doing this. And from what she could gather, this wasn’t his first rodeo.
“Did you see who was stealing my business cards? That would be helpful to me,” she asked more to let out her nervous energy and think for a second. She didn’t expect him to actually know.
“Some woman with a camera. Blond curly hair. She took the whole stack. I thought it was a little weird, but look at where we are.” Malcolm shrugged.
Georgie couldn’t believe it. A teeny part of her brain worried about what Maggie wanted her business cards for, but she forced herself to focus on Malcolm and the silver tube he was smacking gently into his hand. “Killing me isn’t going to get you anything. I’m a nobody. I still owe on my mortgage.” Georgie kept backing away from Malcolm as she tried to stall him and kick-start her brain into coming up with some kind of escape plan.
“You painted the design for Serpentius,” Malcolm hissed. “Everyone is talking about it. You are hardly a nobody. In fact, your death might make me even more famous than Cole’s will.”
“So, the need to work and create something in order to become famous . . . that just slipped your mind? Hard work not in your vocabulary?” Georgie snapped.
“Does this not look like hard work to you?” Malcolm smacked his hand harder with the thing Georgie thought was a pipe. It wasn’t a pipe. It was a prop. She’d seen it before in the commercials for some old science fiction movie. “Although, I have to admit that the human skull does crack a lot easier than I thought. Cole went down immediately. A woman your age, probably even quicker,” he snarled.
Georgie had no plan. Nothing came into focus. Suddenly, she was keenly aware of the smell coming from the dumpsters. The sickeningly sweet scent of rot and decay. If Malcolm killed her here, he could just as easily toss her body in the garbage. She wouldn’t be found for days, maybe longer. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, Georgie scrambled to get past him. If she could get to the street, she could scream for help. But Malcolm, for a doughy soft-armed fellow, was quick and grabbed her before she could make it.
With one arm around her neck, Malcolm wrapped his other arm around Georgie and pulled her violently into him, using the rod as a bar to keep Georgie from escaping.
“Don’t you dare make a peep.” His breath was hot and foul in her ear. “If you make this easy for me, I’ll reconsider going after the woman who was always with you. What did you call her? Aretha?”
“Aleta,” Georgie sighed.
“Aleta.” He jerked Georgie as he tried to pull her further into the alley. The movie prop felt cold and heavy against her stomach. Malcolm wouldn’t let it go and instead tried to hold her back with it. There was no doubt it was the weapon he had used to bludgeon Cole Ness. Georgie felt certain he was going to use it on her if she didn’t do something about it.
Her best idea was to just fight. With renewed determination, Georgie tried everything. Jerking her head back and forth, she hoped to maybe catch Malcolm with a head butt. At the same time, she stomped on his feet over and over, kicking backward trying to make contact with one of his shins. That was when she remembered something she’d read online. The underpart of a person’s arm close to the armpit was more sensitive than the rest of the arm, especially when that fleshy meat was pinched and twisted. She wasted no time and grabbed at the soft, tender flesh under Malcolm’s arm.
“Yeow!” he howled. “You witch!” Malcolm screamed as Georgie’s thumb pressed the loose bit of skin between her thumb and the second knuckle of her index finger, squeezing and twisting as if her life depended on it. Malcolm’s grip loosened just enough for Georgie to break loose and dash to the side door of the hotel.
With strength she didn’t know she had, she yanked the door open and ran inside. There was no one at this end of the hotel. But voices could be heard down the narrow hallway that had a small gold plaque on the wall which read LOBBY.
Georgie hurried in down the hallway just as Malcolm pulled the door open and came after her. Her eyes were wide. She heard his footsteps pounding up from behind her. Her own voice called for help, but it seemed so small, no louder than a whisper. Georgie turned her head slightly over her shoulder and saw Malcolm gaining on her. He was limping. She must have gotten a couple good stomps in. She was glad about that. But it wasn’t over. Malcolm was no longer a portly bearded fellow in a T-shirt and jeans. He was a charging angry bull.
After that one look behind her, Georgie picked up the pace, bursting into the lobby where she collided with a solid object in a police uniform. It was Mosey, and Aleta was right behind him.
“My gosh! Georgie! What’s the matter?” Her sister rushed to her side.
“It’s Malcolm! He’s behind me! He killed Cole Ness!”
Mosey looked in the direction Georgie had just come from and saw Malcolm come to a quick stop and then turn around. The huge police officer took off after him.
“Georgie. Georgie.” Aleta was almost crying. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” The entire hotel lobby had come to a standstill watching the drama unfold.
“What happened?” Aleta asked, holding her sister’s hands.
Georgie explained everything that had taken place after she had left the convention center. Her breath was starting to slow down, but Georgie was drenched with sweat.
“Had I not been thinking about Maggie, I might have seen Malcolm sooner.” She ground her teeth. “Or maybe if I didn’t have this patch on, I would have seen him sooner.” She shrugged feeling defeated.
“I knew not to let you go off by yourself. Something in my gut said to follow you, even if you said you wanted to be alone.” Aleta stroked her hand. “I’m glad I did. Mosey just felt awful for having to tell you that you couldn’t talk with Stan. He knows the history you guys have. He told me that Maggie Hoffentop has quite a reputation at the precinct, too.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” Georgie chuckled.
“I’m sorry.” Aleta started to laugh too as tears filled her eyes. “You might also want to know that I stepped in something really disgusting as I hurried over here.”
“Did you?” Georgie laughed harder. “I think I really stepped in it, too.”
“Oh, Georgie Kaye.” Aleta put her arm around her sister and hugged her tight.
It didn’t take long for Mosey to return to the hotel with his
hands full of Malcolm Heady whose arms were behind his back secured with a plastic zip strip, his head down so far his chin was touching his chest.
Within minutes, a squad car pulled up in front of the hotel and Mosey stuffed Malcolm into the back seat. He’d sit there until every witness was interviewed, statements were taken, and evidence was collected.
“Georgie, I have to ask you some questions,” Mosey said.
“I know the routine, honey. Don’t feel bad.”
“You want to tell me what happened?” he asked gently.
Georgie told Mosey everything, remembering to mention the weapon Malcolm had threatened her with, giving a quick description and her opinion that he’d stolen it from one of the vendors at the convention.
“Weapon? He didn’t have any weapon on him,” Mosey said.
Georgie looked at Mosey as if he had said he was going to conduct the rest of the interview in song. Then her eyes widened, and she snapped her fingers.
“The dumpsters. When he got a glimpse of you, Mosey, he took off, and I’ll bet he dumped it in the garbage dumpsters just outside. If it isn’t in one of them, it’s definitely around there. I’d bet my life on it.”
Mosey agreed and sent another officer to go search the dumpster.
“I think that’ll do for now, Georgie,” Mosey said as he flipped his notepad closed. “We might need to contact you later for a follow-up.”
“I hope you do, Mosey. I’ll have cookies and coffee ready for you.”
The big officer blushed and smiled as he looked to Aleta, then patted Georgie’s hand before excusing himself to go and talk with a few members of the hotel staff.
Within minutes, the officer Mosey had sent to search the alley returned. In his blue latex-covered hands, he held the weapon Georgie had described. It had indeed been found in one of the dumpsters.
“You don’t think the cross contamination will be an issue?” Aleta asked Georgie as they remained sitting on the loveseat, watching the police do their work.