Perplexity on P1/2 (Parson's Cove Mysteries) (3 page)

     Reg drained his cup and stood up.

     “I doubt it. Most thieves don’t leave a message; they just arrive. Thanks for the coffee. If I were you, I’d go to bed and stop fretting about this. It’s almost ten and you’ll probably have lots of customers in tomorrow. Get a good night’s sleep. Maybe whoever phoned will call back or pop into the store tomorrow and the mystery will be solved.”

      I shook my head. “I wish I could make out if it’s a man or a woman on that thing.”

     “If you can’t tell that, how can you tell that it’s threatening?”

     “I don’t know, Reg. Maybe it’s just the person’s tone of voice.”

     He reached over and patted my arm.

     “I’m sure it’s nothing. Someone from here might be playing a crank call. Let’s face it, there could be a bit of jealousy. After all, not many from here have ever been to Las Vegas.”

     “Do you think so? I never even thought of that.” My heart pounded faster again but this time it was more excitement than fear. “I bet it’s Esther Flynn. Who else would do such a thing?”

     “Now, Mabel, don’t go making accusations like that. You can’t blame Esther for everything in life that happens to you, you know.”

     “I know that, but I think you’re right - it has to be a crank call. I’ll bet you anything Esther did this to upset me because she’s jealous.”

     “Mabel, you’re not listening. I didn’t say it was Esther. I didn’t even insinuate it was Esther. And don’t you tell anyone I did.”

     He might have said more but I shut the door.

     That had to be it. I played the tape again. And again. If only I could make out the voice. Reg was right, of course, I couldn’t come right out and blame Esther. I knew how to handle her though. At least, I should be able to after all the years of experience I’ve had.

     Esther has been a thorn in my side since the day we met. That was fifty-seven years ago. Flori, Esther, and I started school together. She was the most evil child I ever knew. Satan’s spawn if there ever was one. I’ve forgotten most of the tricks that she played on me. I’m not the sort to keep track but getting me kicked out of school because she claimed I was cheating was unforgivable. Flori tells me that is in the past and I have to let go; however, some things cling to you for life. Flori, as you have probably surmised by now, has a much sweeter disposition than I have. Every once in awhile she still brings up the subject of ‘intervention.’

     “I think we should do this before old Mr. Braithwate dies,” she says. He was our principal, has dementia, and is almost a hundred years old. “You should have closure on this, Mabel.”

     “Flori,” I always tell her. “I do have closure. Don’t forget, I took almost all my last year at home and I got higher marks than Esther did. That’s enough closure for me.”

     “But that was over forty years ago and you still haven’t forgiven her.”

     “No, and I never will.”

    “That’s not closure, Mabel.”

     “It’s good enough for me.” 

     After I say that, Flori sheds a tear or two and says a little prayer for me.

     Reg could possibly be right; someone was playing a trick on me. Parson’s Cove is a lovely place to live. Although, to be honest, I’ve never lived anywhere else so I can’t really speak from experience. No matter how lovely it is, however, a few living here have somewhat criminal minds. Not to mention names but even Reg’s two deputies had a few run-ins with the law. Not lately, of course. However, if someone finds himself or herself locked out of the house, Scully is quite handy at unlocking a door with a piece of wire or a credit card and Jim can hotwire a car in ten seconds flat.

     I must say, I went to bed with total peace of mind. Well, perhaps, sort of a ‘fake’ total. I did make a brief stop at the sewing room. This is the room where I was born over sixty years ago. My mother never let me forget the pain she had to endure giving birth to me so after she died, I turned it into a sewing room. Even though it’s much bigger than my bedroom, I’m sure I could never sleep in it. All night I’d be hearing my mother’s screams. I never sew but I do hide my bottle of gin behind the old sewing machine. Flori has no idea. If she did, she’d pour every bottle down the drain. Flori thoroughly enjoys a glass or two of wine but gin is a sin.

     So, I drained my glass of sin and fell asleep almost instantly. I dreamt about slot machines cha-chinging, the old singer with the young man’s voice singing
Auf Wiedersehen,
but over it all I kept hearing someone screaming, “
Wicked … everyone in Parson’s Cove. Jail won’t be enough. Watch your….”

     When the Canadian singer started belting out
Love Can Move Mountains
, her face suddenly changed right before my eyes and I was staring at Esther Flynn’s ugly mug. I sat up in bed drenched in sweat, my heart pounding.

Mabel’s Crumbless Blueberry Muffins

2 cups sifted all-purpose flour

3 tsp. baking powder

1 tsp. salt

¼ cup sugar

1 egg

1 cup milk

¼ cup melted shortening

1 cup blueberries

Sift flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar together. Beat egg, and add milk, shortening, and blueberries. Stir into flour mixture, mixing only until flour is moistened. Fill greased muffin tins 2/3 full. Sprinkle sugar on top. Bake at 425 degrees for 15 to 20 minutes.    

Mabel’s secrets to fantastic muffins:

Proper mixing is the key. Do not over-mix!

Begin by thoroughly mixing the dry ingredients – flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. Make a well in the center. Mix liquid ingredients – egg, milk, melted fat or oil, and other seasonings or spices – until well combined. Add fruit, chocolate chips, etc.

Pour the liquid ingredients into the well in the dry ingredients and stir just enough to moisten. The batter should be lumpy but not have any areas with dry flour.

Chapter Three

     The next morning, I was still a little shaky from my nightmare and head-achy from the gin but managed to feed my cats and make it to the shop in time to put the coffee on before Flori came with breakfast. At eight forty-five, she rushed through the door. Her hands were empty. Not only that, she wasn’t even dressed. She was wearing her pink cotton housecoat over her matching floor length nightgown. Her orange-red hair stood out in every direction and there were black smudges of yesterday’s mascara under her eyes. She stood staring at me with her mouth open and a hand placed over her pounding heart. I knew it was pounding because I could see her hand going up and down.

     “Flori,” I said. “For goodness sakes, what’s wrong? Why are you panting like that? Why aren’t you dressed? Where’s our breakfast?”

     “Mabel,” she screamed between pants. “There’s been a murder.”

     “What do you mean, there’s been a murder?”

     She finally caught her breath. “Just that. Jake went over to have breakfast at the Main Street Café because he didn’t want to wait for me to cook up our breakfasts and I told him I wasn’t cooking breakfast twice so he left (a pause to inhale) and when he came back, that’s what he told me.”

     “So, who? Who was murdered?”

     “I don’t know. Jake said it was a stranger.”

     “Flori, we don’t have any strangers in town, do we? Did some move in while I was gone? Or, is it one of the renters? Maybe someone renting a cabin on the lake?”

     Flori walked over and plunked down in my wicker chair. She wiped the perspiration off her forehead and tried running her fingers through her unruly hair. She sighed.

     “I have no idea. I told you all that I know.”

     “Where’s the body?”

     Flori gave me a look of dismay. “Who cares where the body is, Mabel? Someone visiting Parson’s Cove has been murdered and that’s all you can think about?”

     “I want to know who it was. Don’t you?”

     “Mabel, if it’s a stranger, it doesn’t matter if I know her name or not. I would just like to know if the killer is still in Parson’s Cove so I know if I need to lock my doors. Or, should Jake get out his hunting rifle for protection?”

     “What did you just say?”

     “I said I want to know if I have to keep my doors locked or should Jake get out his hunting rifle for protection. Is that the part that shocks you, Mabel? The gun part? You know I don’t believe in violence of any kind but this is something entirely different.”

     “No, I thought you said, ‘it doesn’t matter if I know her name or not.’”

     She nodded. “That’s what I said.”

     “You mean a woman was murdered?”

     “Yes, didn’t I just say that?”

     “No, you said it was a stranger.”

     “Okay, so it was a woman stranger. What difference does it make?”

     “I don’t know but somehow it does.”

     Flori’s eyes bulged. She gasped, clutched her chest again, and jumped up. “Oh, Mabel, I’m so sorry. Here you’ve been waiting for breakfast and I came empty-handed. You must be starving. I’ll run home and make it right away.” She hurried to the door, her housecoat floating behind.

     “Don’t rush,” I called out. “You have time to get showered and dressed and put your make-up on. I’ll give you a whole hour.” I smiled at her. “I was getting used to having late lazy breakfasts by the pool anyway. I’ll just pretend I’m back in Las Vegas, that’s all.”

     She came back, an obvious look of relief on her face, hugged me and left. As soon as I knew she would be out of sight, I went out the same door, locked it and walked in the opposite direction. I knew where the body would be.

     I edged along the wall of our small brick county courthouse and peeked around the corner. The parking lot for the Parson’s Cove hospital was directly across the street. If I wanted to get into the county morgue, I’d have to somehow get across that wide parking lot and enter the back door of the hospital. I certainly didn’t want Reg Smee or either of his deputies to see me. He’d not only send me home, he’d make sure I never found out anything about the murder. The patrol car with its cherry red light turning, sat at the front entrance. That meant he’d either forgotten to shut it off or he wanted to let everyone know that he was working the case. Hermann Lawson had already returned the ambulance to its normal parking spot.

     I had to get past, not only Reg and his boys but I also had to avoid Nurse Grappley. She ran the hospital with an iron hand or perhaps a better word is fist. Even Doc Fritz makes a wide swath around her when he sees her coming down the aisle. Fritzy took over when Lorna’s husband died. Lorna Grappley, however, feels the hospital is still in the family and she’s now the proud owner. Nothing goes on in that building without her knowledge or permission. Would she give Mabel Wickles permission to go and check out a dead body in the morgue? Not in her lifetime.

     I looked up and down the street. There was definitely no hustle and bustle here. In fact, it was so quiet the only sound I could hear was a large bumblebee zinging around my head. The only person who might notice me was Charlie Thompson. He was sitting on a town bench in front of the library. It was quite a distance away but you never knew with Charlie. He’s the type of person who is blind one time and has x-ray vision the next. I guess it’s what you call selective sight. I didn’t worry about him anyway. Charlie has very few friends in town but I happen to be one of them.

     I sprinted across the street and hid behind a lilac bush. The bee followed. Now all I had to do was get across the parking lot without anyone seeing me. This wasn’t going to be easy. There were four cars altogether and they were spaced as far apart as you could get. It meant I’d have to make a mad dash for that back door and hope no one was watching. I took off running. The bee followed.

     I would have made it safely inside except the moment I reached the door, it flew open. I let out a shriek. At least, the bee knew enough to escape. Bob Crackers stood there, staring at me with wild eyes and his hand over his heart. Bob is the town’s electrician, plumber, and gravedigger.

     “Hey, Mabel” he gasped. “Boy, you gave me a start for a second.” He shook his head and laughed. “By the way, good to see you got home from your trip okay. Myrtle says you had a real good time.” He switched his toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “Guess you heard the excitin’ news here in old Parson’s Cove? Been a murder in town. Probably nothin’ to you, seein’ you just come from the big city. Don’t think Reg’s found out who the woman is yet. Probably bringin’ in some of those city cops. That’s what I figure.” He shook his head again. “What’s that now? Two murders here in the past two years? Gettin’ almost as bad as Vegas, ain’t it?” He stepped to the side. “Sorry. Here I am chattin’ away and takin’ up your time. Were you wantin’ to come in the back door?”

     “Actually, I was. Faster than walking all the way around to the front.”

     “Well, old Grappely always insists I come in the backdoor when I’m workin’ on the plumbing. Toilets plugged up agin.” He sighed a frustrating sigh and moved out of my way. “Here you go then.” He paused. “You visitin’ somebody this mornin’?”

     “You might say that.”

     He held the door open and I went in. There was no need to tell me he’d been working on the plumbing - one whiff and I knew.

     The thing that hits me smack in the face when I walk into a hospital, unless I run into Bob first, is the smell. I immediately start to breathe through my mouth and if I’m not careful, hyperventilate. The hallway leading to the morgue smelled even worse. Or, maybe it was my imagination.

     I looked to the right and the left but could see no one. Was Reg in with the body? Knowing Reg, he wouldn’t be there any longer than he had to be. The hallway was narrow, bleak, and appeared never-ending. To my right, at the end of that passage was a gray steel door. On the other side of that door was the morgue. Everything in the hallway was gray: the walls, the floor, and even the light fixtures. The most depressing color in the world.

     I tried walking on my tiptoes but still my rubber-soled runners squeaked and echoed with each step. When I came to the steel door, I stopped to listen. Silence. I held my breath and pressed the door open. No one was in the room. At least, no one who could  talk and breathe. I stuck my head back out to make sure the hallway was still empty. Reg and the boys were probably on their way to the police station by now.