Slip and Go Die (A Parson's Cove Mystery) (7 page)

I hadn’t thought about it but maybe she was right. Life was getting a bit ho-humdrum.

“So, you think we should go and check out Krueger’s old house?”

She laughed. “Why not? You know there won’t be any foot prints though; the snow will have covered them.”

I smiled. “But maybe we’ll find something inside. At least, we might find out if someone has been staying there.”

She finished wiping out her cup, placed it upside down on the tea towel by the hotplate and percolator and proceeded to pile on her winter clothes. By the time she was finished, she could only toddle. I opened the door for her.

“I don’t know why you put all those clothes on, Flori. It’s turning out to be a beautiful day.”

The sun was warm on the skin. The snowdrifts along the sidewalk were slowly sinking. The layer of snow on the sidewalk was now ice. There was a truck working its way down Main Street sprinkling sand on the ice patches. Mutt Mitchel, who runs the hardware store next door, had put down some kind of de-icer (which reminded me to pick up a bag of cat litter) in front of his store and mine. He helps me out because he probably drinks more of my coffee than anyone else in town does.

“It’s just a habit. After so many cold days, I can’t even imagine a nice warm day.”

She stepped out onto the sidewalk, placing one foot slowly in front of the other. It might have been easier for her if she could have seen her feet. Without turning around, she asked, “What time should I come over, Mabel?”

“About seven,” I called out. I stood and watched until she had rounded the corner. If she did fall, I doubted she could do much damage. She might even bounce right back up again.

The day passed by slowly. About ten people came in to browse. Most of them only wanted to look at Beulah’s collection. No one should make fun of the dead but I did notice a few of them snickering about some of her things. Of course, they did this very discreetly.

“Can you imagine anyone buying something like this?” Delores, the waitress from Main Street Café, held up the Chinese vase. Delores, on the other hand, doesn’t know what the word discreet means. “Isn’t this the ugliest thing you ever saw, Mabel?”

I nodded. “We all have different tastes, Delores,” I said. I was starting to feel sorry for Beulah, especially considering the fact that she wasn’t there to defend her poor taste in almost everything that she owned.

“Well, I know, but some of these things are no-brainers. Look at this, for instance.” She held up a mug shaped like a sailor’s face. “Who would want to try and drink anything out of this? Look, it even has this little shelf or something in it.”

“Delores,” I said, “you don’t drink out of that. I think it’s a shaving cup.”

She stared at me. “Beulah had a man’s shaving cup?”

I stared back. “Now, that is interesting, isn’t it? Do you think she was married at one time?”

She shrugged. Her eyes twinkled. “Maybe she had a visitor?”

Delores is almost forty and has been on the lookout for a man since she turned ten. She would be the only one in Parson’s Cove to think of such a thing.

I grabbed the cup and put it back. “That’s ridiculous. I bet it belonged to her father. These are probably all keepsakes. Things that were very precious to Beulah.”

She looked slightly disappointed. “Well, I guess we’ll never know if she had a lover or not, will we?”

In the late morning, Jim, Reg’s deputy, dropped in.

Parson’s Cove has only two deputies: Jim and Scully. In appearance, they are as different as heavenly hash ice cream and red-hot Texas chili. Scully is tall and skinny. Jim is short and muscular. I’m not sure which one is the smarter but neither have broken any records in the IQ department.

“Mabel,” he said. “Reg wanted me to tell you that you’d better hurry up and take your sign down from the window. He already gave you one warning. Someone told him they wouldn’t come in to buy anything if they felt under obligation.”

I don’t mind talking to Jim because he isn’t much taller than I am. I also noticed that I have more hair.

“What on earth do you mean, ‘under obligation’?”

“Well, I guess they figure if they don’t buy anything and you have to go on government aid, it will be their fault. Or, something like that. Anyway, Reg says you shouldn’t be threatening anyone.”

“I am not threatening anyone. I’m just saying it as it is. And, anyway, where is His Highness? Why couldn’t he come in here to tell me himself?”

“Uh, well, he’s busy this morning.” His cheeks turned pink and he looked out the window.

“What’s he doing?”

“Can’t say.” He turned to leave. “I had to remind you about the sign, that’s all.”

“I made a pot of fresh coffee. Want a cup?”

He hesitated.

“Nah, I better not.”

“I also brought some muffins. Strawberry, fresh out of my freezer. I can heat one up for you in a jiffy.”

He hesitated again.

“Reg comes in every morning for his coffee and muffin. Regular as clockwork,” I said.

“Well, maybe I could have a quick cup of coffee and a muffin. I’ll tell Reg it was my coffee break.”

I gave him my biggest smile. “That’s in your union contract, Jim.”

He plopped down in the wicker chair. “We don’t have a union, do we?”

“Of course, you do. You have to have two twenty-minute breaks every day and a half hour for lunch.”

“Really? That sounds good.” He took the cup of coffee and added three heaping tablespoons of sugar.

I warmed up two large muffins. I knew I would have him for the next twenty minutes. I waited until he was finished with his first muffin and starting his second cup of coffee before I started to question him.

“You mentioned that Reg was busy. I sure do hope we aren’t having a crime spree here in Parson’s Cove again. But, I know we can always count on you boys. In fact, I don’t know what Reg would do without you and Scully. Does he ever tell you how much he appreciates you, Jim?”

Jim’s mouth was so full he couldn’t answer.

“Well, I’m sure he does. Everyone in town knows how much he depends on you.”

Jim had a blank look in his eyes. I’m sure this was the first time he’d ever heard such foreign talk. Usually, Reg is yelling at him and his partner. As for the folks in Parson’s Cove, they’re happy to have those two boys working with Reg. No one would even want to guess what trouble they might get into otherwise. Not that they were exceptionally bad kids, they just didn’t know how to use their brains for anything constructive most of the time.

“That’s real nice of you, Mabel.” He plopped the last of the muffin in his mouth. “That was a good cup of coffee, too.” He talked, chewed and swallowed.

I smiled. “I’m surprised that Reg is off doing something without you, that’s all. He’s getting older, you know. Almost ready to retire. Sometimes it’s good to have a young mind around. As we get older sometimes we get a little forgetful.”

He nodded. “That’s what Scully and me said. We’re getting kind of tired sitting around doing nothing. We went ice fishing yesterday but today we have to look after the station. That’s our orders.”

“And, Jim, you’re doing a good job of it. I appreciate your coming over. It shows Reg can trust you. I bet he was scared to tell me himself.”

Jim grinned. “Yeah, Reg is kind of scared of you sometimes, Mabel. Not me. I think you’re a great old gal.”

“Well, thanks, Jim. You’ll have to tell Reg that when you get back to the station.”

“Oh, he won’t be back yet. He’s gone up to Beulah’s house to check things out there.”

“Really? What is there to check out?”

“Oh, somebody said they saw a light in her house last night.”

“You’re kidding? Who would be snooping around there?”

Jim’s face turned red. He laughed.

“Actually, you won’t believe this but Reg said the only person he could think of who would be curious enough to go out there, would be you.” He laughed a little louder. “Isn’t that hilarious?” He slapped his knee. “He even made Scully check with Jake to see if you were home last night.” He reached over to the box of tissue and wiped his eyes.

So that’s why Flori called this morning to see what I’d been doing last night. She said Jake insisted that she call and check. It did seem strange that Jake would take a sudden interest in me.

I hoped Sheriff Smee was satisfied. There were other snoops out there besides me. I wasn’t the only one with a curious mind.

A curious mind is not always a good thing. If it killed the cat, imagine what it could do to a human.

Chapter Eight

“Okay, Flori,” I said. “We’ll begin our investigation by checking out Krueger’s old house. Then, if the weather holds, we’ll head to Beulah’s cabin. We’ll have to do that at night though. I don’t want Reg and his deputies catching us.”

Flori stared at me over her glass of chokecherry wine. I still had a few bottles that Sadie MacIntosh gave me two years ago, so I thought I’d share some with my friend. After all, no one wants to sit alone and drink wine. I hadn’t quite reached that point in my life and I hoped I never would. I do make an exception, however, to the odd nip of gin. Besides, Flori doesn’t like gin. To her, gin is a sin. I’ve found that a few sips of any beverage with an alcohol content of eight percent or higher can be a courage booster at times. Especially when you’re investigating a crime scene.

It isn’t that we were planning on walking in and finding a body. After all, not everyone in Parson’s Cove calls it the Krueger Murder House or anything like that. I’m the first one to admit, however, that breaking into a home, which doesn’t have your name on the mortgage papers, does get the adrenalin pumping and the knees shaking. The dead body, I can do without.

“Let’s just get something clear here, Mabel. First of all, when I suggested that we check out Krueger’s, I did not suggest in any way that this was an investigation. If someone was or is staying there, I’m sure there’s a good explanation. Or, it is possible that you could have just thought you saw someone. It was right in the middle of a blinding snowstorm after all. And, another thing, I am not accompanying you to Beulah’s old house.” She placed her glass carefully on the coffee table. “And, the reason for that is, you are not going to that house.”

With that, she reached over and refilled her glass. A couple of drops landed on the coffee table.

“You’d better be careful. You know how you get after a couple of glasses of red wine.”

“Yes, I do know. I get happy.” She giggled and some wine slopped over the side of the glass and onto her bosom.

“Oops.” She giggled again but this time she put the glass to her mouth and let it spill into that. Some of it dribbled down her chin. She wiped it with her hand. Flori has to be the sloppiest wine drinker on the planet. I would never tell her but she’d look a lot better downing gin.

“Flori,” I said, when she put the glass to her mouth, over-poured and caught the spillage with her hand, “I hate to tell you this but you look like an old drunk. Next thing you know you’ll be sharing the cell with Amos Grimm on Saturday night.”

Flori let out a hoot, spilled more wine as she tried setting the glass on the table and collapsed into a laughing seizure. I waited.

When she had finished hiccoughing and blowing her nose, I said, “I would think that by now you would begin to believe in my instincts. When have I ever been wrong?”

She stared into space, thinking. I’m not sure if she was thinking about my question or if her mind was still on the spilled wine.

Before she could reply, I said, “That was a rhetorical question.”

I knew the wine had dulled some of her memory. When her mind is clear, she’s able to come up with quite a list of the times I may have been wrong.

“Anyway, that’s beside the point. Right now we have to find out if there’s a connection between whoever is staying at Krueger’s house and the murder.”

Her mouth hung open; her eyes widened. “Murder? What murder?”