by Rose Pressey
“You mean I meant nothing to you?” he asked.
“Of course you mean everything to me. You’re my friend.”
“Well, that’s why I want to help you,” he said.
No offense to Morty, but what could he possibly do that would help? I supposed I should hear him out and see what he had in mind before jumping to conclusions. Maybe he could offer some assistance. “I’m not sure what you could help with. We really don’t have any clues right now to work with.”
“Maybe that’s where I come in,” he said. “I can do some legwork for you so that you don’t have to do it all. I can drive you all anywhere you want to go.”
“No,” I said.
Morty’s driving terrified me.
Did I mention what a cute couple Dorothy and Morty made? It was worth mentioning again. I just loved them to pieces.
“Okay, what’s our game plan?” Morty asked, clapping his hands.
“Oh, well, I don’t know,” I said.
Morty was apparently completely serious about helping. Morty stared at me and I knew he wasn’t budging until I gave him a mission.
“Well, I suppose we need to find out exactly what happened with the case. I need all the clues I can get.”
“Have you thought about going to the library and checking out old stories from that time? What about going to the restaurant that was listed in the file?”
I raised an eyebrow. How had he known what was in that file?
“Dot told me about the case,” Morty said, realizing what I was thinking.
“I had planned on going there today,” I said.
“Well, perfect,” he said, clapping his hands again. “I’m hungry. Are you hungry, Dot?”
“I’m starving,” Dorothy said, grabbing her purse and pushing to her feet.
It looked as if the three of us were going to lunch. I supposed it wouldn’t be so bad. After all, they could possibly help me get some clues while we were there. Although sometimes they did slow me down just a bit. I hoped that wouldn’t be the case this time.
“Well, all right then,” I said. “Let’s go have lunch.”
“What is this place?” Dorothy asked.
“I believe it’s Italian.”
She frowned. “I had spaghetti for dinner last night.”
“Dorothy!” I said.
“Right, right,” she said. “I guess I could just get a salad.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
Now came the time that I had to convince Morty he couldn’t drive. He always wanted to be behind the wheel and they complained about my car being too small. I liked having a smaller car. It was easier to maneuver around when I was chasing after a suspect. I grabbed my bag and keys and headed for the door. I locked the door behind us as we stepped out from the office into the bright sunshine. I peered up at the sky, looking for the seagulls. Had Dorothy been serious about that story? It sounded a bit farfetched. Morty and Dorothy were headed straight for his car.
“Whoa, whoa, guys,” I said. “I can drive since I know where we’re going.”
“That’s okay, Maggie. I know the place too. I can have us there in a jiffy.”
Could he get us there in one piece in a jiffy? That was the more important question. Sadly, I was out of excuses.
I sat in the back seat of the car now. Of course I was buckled in, but that was about all I could do to prepare myself. That and hang on for the ride. Dorothy sat up front. She always called shotgun, like I was ever going to argue for that position. I figured it was better to be in the back where my view would be more obstructed. I’d know less of what was really going on around me.
Morty started the car and somehow managed to merge the big thing out of the parking lot and onto the street. Maybe if his car wasn’t so big it would be better. Less vehicle for him to maneuver.
“How’s it going up there, Morty?” I called out.
Did I really want to know? I couldn’t help myself from asking.
After the car riding next to us stopped honking, Morty answered, “Things are perfect up here, Maggie. We’ll be there in no time.”
I suspected that Morty had slipped into the other lane and into the other car’s path. Thank goodness he hadn’t sideswiped them.
“Wait a minute,” Dorothy said.
“What’s wrong, Dot?” Morty asked.
“That car up there.” She pointed. “Isn’t that like the one you described that the guy who took the bag got into?”
I leaned forward in the seat and spotted the car she was talking about. “Yes, I suppose that is the same kind of car.”
“Punch it, Morty,” she said. “We have to catch up to that car.”
“No, Morty. Don’t punch it,” I yelled.
“What if it’s the car?” Dorothy said. “We have to catch it.”
“There are a lot of cars like that, Dorothy.”
Our safety was more important than catching a potential killer. Had I really just said that? Maybe I was easing up on living dangerously. Morty’s loyalty to Dorothy remained as he pushed the gas pedal and raced down the street toward that car in front of us. I thought there was no way he would be able to catch up with it. He maneuvered around a couple of cars. How he managed to do that without hitting them was beyond me. Surprisingly enough, we were catching up to the car.
“Dorothy, what do you think we’ll do if we catch up with this car?” I asked.
“Confront them of course,” she said. “Are you losing your edge with me, Maggie? You’ve done it before, and it was dangerous then.”
“I think I’m realizing that now it was too dangerous.”
How had we gotten into a chase? This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Surprisingly Morty’s driving wasn’t all that bad this time. I supposed he had set the bar low. As long as he didn’t hit another car, I was happy. Up ahead the car we were trailing was still on the road and I assumed they didn’t know we were following them. Could this really be the car? I had to admit I was suspicious. The next thing I knew the car had made a right turn.
“They’re going into the Dairy Queen,” Dorothy said. “Follow that car.”
Dorothy pointed. Again Morty did as Dorothy said and whipped the car into the restaurant’s parking lot. A few cars honked in our wake. The car we’d followed was now in the drive-through line waiting to order. Morty pulled his Cadillac right up behind them. Were we seriously trailing a criminal in the DQ drive-through?
“What do you have planned from here, Dorothy?” I asked.
She looked over her shoulder and glared at me. “Well, I don’t know. I’m just the assistant. I got you this far, now you can figure out the rest.”
“I didn’t want to come in the first place,” I said. “We don’t even know for sure this is the car. As a matter of fact, I’m almost positive it isn’t the car.”
“We don’t know until we go find out for sure,” Morty said.
The keyword there was we. Which in this instance probably just meant me. Other times Dorothy would insist on going with me.
“All right, I’ll go up there and see if it’s the guy. If anything happens to me tell Jake I love him and I’m sorry,” I said.
I got out of the car right there at the Dairy Queen drive-through. I still had no clue what I was doing. This could potentially be a killer. What if he started shooting at me right there in the parking lot with everyone around? I didn’t want to put anyone in danger. Though I supposed surely he wouldn’t start shooting just because a person walked through a parking lot. I would casually stroll by and take a look at the driver. That was all. I didn’t know if this was even the person I was looking for.
I strolled by the car, acting as if I was walking toward the Dumpster at the edge of the parking lot. I didn’t look over at the car just yet. I figured I’d look on my way back. Just as I turned around though, I spotted Dorothy. She had gotten out of the car and was now standing beside the vehicle in question. She had her hands on her hips and was obviously confront
ing the person in the car. I ran over there as fast as my legs would allow.
“Dorothy, what are you doing?” I yelled.
Just then, I spotted the person behind the wheel. The gray-haired woman stared with wide eyes. She was probably Dorothy’s age. She had the most confused look on her face. My eyes widened in fear.
“Dorothy,” I said. “This isn’t the person we’re looking for.”
“Well, I just had to make sure,” Dorothy said.
“I apologize,” I said. “Sometimes she gets forgetful.”
“I’m not senile,” Dorothy said with a frown.
“Sorry again.” I waved at the woman.
She still didn’t answer.
I guided Dorothy back toward the car. I wasn’t even sure what to say. I just wanted to get out of here. We needed to get to the other restaurant.
I buckled my seatbelt. “Okay, let’s get out of here now.”
“What? I thought we were getting ice cream?” Dorothy asked.
I raised an eyebrow. “Dorothy, honestly, we’re going to eat at a restaurant so that we can get information. We’re not here for Dairy Queen.”
“Well,” she said. “Their ice cream is so good.”
“We’ll come for ice cream after, how’s that?”
“All right, it’s a deal,” she said.
Chapter 23
Morty got out of the line and headed around the restaurant. The woman we’d followed gave us the stink-eye when we drove by. I couldn’t say that I blamed her. Morty swerved as he pulled out onto the street away from the Dairy Queen. I had no idea why he’d swerved. Maybe he’d seen an imaginary car.
After some crazy driving we finally arrived at the restaurant. It was nicer than I’d thought. I hoped I was dressed appropriately.
Morty parked the car up close to the door. A couple of the wheels were in the landscaping, but I figured this was good enough. He shut off the car and I opened the back door, hitting the shrub.
“It’s okay. It’s all right,” I said. “I can get out.”
Morty and Dorothy didn’t even respond. I didn’t think they caught my sarcasm. It wouldn’t be the first time. Most people didn’t. I probably should just knock it off and keep the things to myself because my jokes fell flat. I waited at the back of the car for Morty and Dorothy to come around.
“Okay, so we have to talk with the owner. It may not be that easy to find him either. Just let me handle it,” I said.
Who was I kidding? I knew they’d get involved. It was inevitable. At least I’d tried to keep control of this situation.
“How are you going to ask for the owner?” Dorothy asked.
“I suppose I hadn’t thought of it for sure,” I said.
“That’s my Maggie. Always waiting until the last minute.” Dorothy wiggled her finger in my direction.
“Well, this was kind of a last-minute thing, don’t you think?”
“Never mind that. You would still wait until the last minute.”
I guessed she was right about that. There was no denying that I liked to wing it. It made things more exciting, I supposed. Too much over-analyzing things was never good. “Anyway, I’ll wait and see what the situation calls for.”
Dorothy, Morty, and I stepped into the restaurant. It was a bit more casual than I had expected. With white tablecloth-covered tables and dim lighting, the place had a lot of ambiance. This would have been romantic if I was with Jake. Too bad he hadn’t been in the mood to come along.
The restaurant was busy though and no one seemed to notice that we were standing by the door waiting to find a table.
“Maybe we’re supposed to just find our own table,” Dorothy said.
“I think maybe we need reservations,” I said.
“That won’t do us much good now, will it?” she said.
“Perhaps I can do something to help,” Morty said.
Dorothy and I exchanged a look.
“What exactly did you have in mind, dear?” Dorothy asked in a sweet voice.
“Oh, just leave it to me. I have a little something up my sleeve.” He wiggled his bushy eyebrows.
Dorothy and I watched as Morty walked over to an employee. They talked for a moment. The man looked over at us. I smiled. Dorothy waved. They talked for a moment longer and then the employee walked away. Morty headed over to us. He had a smile on his face, so maybe he had gotten us a table. Good job, Morty. What could he have possibly told the man?
“Do you have good news for us?” Dorothy asked excitedly.
“We need a reservation,” he said.
I released a deep sigh. “Well, at least you tried.”
“They said they had something for us though,” Morty added.
“Hey, that’s good news. What time?” I asked.
“At eleven o’clock tonight.”
I looked at my phone. “It’s seven now.”
“I suppose we could come back,” Dorothy said.
She just wanted to go back to Dairy Queen. Which kind of sounded pretty good to me right now.
“All I wanted was to get information from the owner. I really didn’t want to eat here anyway,” I said.
“Do you really want to go back to Dairy Queen?” Dorothy asked.
I shook my head and smiled. Though I hoped that woman wasn’t there when we went back to DQ. With the way all the employees zipped back and forth across the restaurant, I had no idea how I would get anyone’s attention to ask them anything.
“Isn’t there supposed to be a host up here to answer questions?” I asked.
“Yes, I suppose there should be someone,” Dorothy said. “Maybe they’re just taking a break.”
“They probably don’t expect any reservations to arrive at the moment,” Morty said.
“Good point,” I said.
It looked as if we wouldn’t be able to carry out this plan. I was going to have to skip this idea and come back at eleven o’clock at night. I would need toothpicks for my eyes to keep myself awake. Gone were the days when I stayed out until two or three in the morning. Usually I was tucked into bed by eleven.
When a waiter walked by, I said, “Excuse me, can I ask you a question?”
He kept walking and acted as if he hadn’t heard me. I was pretty sure he had. Never mind him. I would try again. When I spotted a woman walking across the way in our direction, I was hopeful.
“Excuse me,” I said when she came closer. “I just need to ask a quick question. I won’t take up much of your time.”
She paused and looked me up and down. I felt as if I was being scrutinized and as if we might be asked to leave soon, like if we weren’t going to buy anything then we needed to get out.
“May I help you?” she finally asked.
Whew. Now maybe we were getting somewhere. I needed to act as if we belonged here. Okay, so we looked like misfits, but what was wrong with being quirky? She shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.
“I need to speak with the owner. Is he here at the moment?” I asked.
The woman pointed across the restaurant toward the doorway. “He’s right back there, go talk to him.”
I couldn’t quite read her expression. “We can just go back there and talk to him?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I suppose.”
“You suppose?” I frowned.
The woman walked away without answering.
“Now that was kind of strange,” I said after she had walked away.
“It was odd, but let’s go see what the guy has to say.” Dorothy motioned.
The three of us walked over to the door. It was open and looked as if it was another dining room. However, the lights were out, and it was pitch dark in there. I got a bit apprehensive. Had this woman been truthful with us or was this some kind of strange prank? I peeked into the room but didn’t see anyone. Where was the light switch?
“I’m not sure this is right,” I said.
“I know she pointed out this room,” Dorothy said.
“I’ll go in a
nd look,” Morty said.
For a moment I stared at him.
“What?” he asked.
“You can’t see in the daylight. How will you see in the dark room?”
“I suppose you have a point, Maggie,” he said.
I hated to remind him, but he needed to know right now.
“I’ll go in and you guys wait here for me,” I said.
“No, Maggie, don’t do that. I think we should all go in together.”
I thought this was a bad idea, but Dorothy probably wouldn’t listen. She would come in after me anyway, so I might as well say yes now and save myself the trouble.
“Okay, but stay with me,” I said.
Dorothy and Morty stood on each side of me as we stepped into the room. Tables and chairs filled the room. I hoped none of us tripped over one of them.
“Hello?” I called. “Is anyone here?”
Movement caught my attention and I looked across the room. A man sat at a table with his back facing us. He held his hand up and motioned for us to come over. I looked to Dorothy and Morty. Dorothy shrugged. Morty stared straight ahead. I wasn’t quite sure he had even seen the man.
“My name is Maggie Thomas. I’m a private investigator and I’m here to ask you some questions,” I said.
He motioned again. My apprehension grew as I started to walk across the room. Morty and Dorothy followed me toward the man. I was glad they were with me now. It was better than being alone in this dark and spooky room with a strange man. The way the woman had acted made this even weirder. I supposed she knew what she’d sent us into when she pointed out the room.
Finally we reached the man. He didn’t turn around as we stood behind him. This was extremely awkward.
“I wondered if I could ask you questions. Like I said, my name is Maggie and I’m a private investigator looking into a case. I have reason to believe that you may have some information.”
“What would you like to know?” he asked after a long pause.
Wow. He was agreeing. I supposed I hadn’t known what I expected from him.
“It’s a case from quite a while ago. Twenty years actually. I know that’s a long time but I’m hoping you might remember something. The woman’s name is Vivian Klein.”
“Sorry, I don’t want to talk about that,” he said without looking at me.