Slip and Go Die (A Parson's Cove Mystery) (8 page)

“Beulah’s. Who else?”

Flori was suddenly very sober.

“Mabel,” she said, in a stern voice, “Beulah Henry was not murdered. What’s the matter with you? You can’t go round saying things like that. What proof do you have that she was murdered anyway? You have to have proof. Did you know that?”

“Of course, I know that. And, I will find it. You wait and see.”

Flori groaned so loud that two cats trotted into the living room from the kitchen to see what was going on.

“There is no proof. Beulah simply fell and hit her head. Do you know what I think your problem is?”

I filled my glass again.

“What’s my problem?”

“You’re having a hard time accepting her death. In a few years, you’ll be the same age and you’re worried that you’ll die all alone, like Beulah did.”

I took a gulp, not at all the way one should drink wine. It wasn’t that Flori was right about my dying all alone; it’s just I hadn’t realized that in a few years I would be so old.

I looked over at my friend. It’s true that even with the red hair and the make-up (which her tears had almost washed away), Flori was starting to show her age. There were fine lines around her eyes and below her cheekbones. But, there was one thing she could be very happy about; her neck wasn’t getting all crinkly, like mine was.

This was enough of this depressing talk.

“Flori,” I said, “as long as I have you for my friend, I will never grow old or die alone.”

“Oh, Mabel, what a lovely thought.” Her eyes filled with tears.

“It is. That’s why I want you to stop crying. Drink up the rest of your wine and let’s go and see if anyone has been staying in Krueger’s old house.”

She picked up her glass, which was half-full. Most of the other half was either on her blouse or on my coffee table. We tipped our glasses in unison and downed the rest of our drink.

I was glad that Flori had decided she didn’t have to wear her thirty-below-zero clothing. We would have spent most of the evening dressing her. As it was, she had on more layers than I thought necessary.

“Well, there could be a change in the weather, Mabel. You should know that; you’ve lived here long enough.”

“I just thought that in case we have to run, you would be able to move fast. That’s all.”

She grabbed my arm and shook it. “Don’t talk like that. You know very well, there’s nothing going on over there. Why do you try and make everything so dramatic?”

I shrugged her arm away and opened the back door. Three cats flew outside as if a wild pit bull were after them. By the time we returned, they’d be standing on the step, lifting one paw and then the other, crying pitifully to get back in. They’re tough cats for the first ten minutes and then they become pussycats.

It was only seven-thirty but the sun was down, the air was crisp, and there was a slight breeze. The moon was full, making everything look bluish-silver and icy cold. I pulled my collar closer around my neck. Flori looked warm and comfortable.

We had to make our own path through the snow. After a few feet, Flori insisted that I follow her. I think she thought I’d fall through a drift and she’d never see me again. It wasn’t easy going. We both lost our balance and fell down several times before we even got as far as the fence.

“How are we going to get over this fence, Mabel?”

Flori had stopped right in front of it. There was only about six inches of wood showing above the snow. “I can’t see the gate.”

“It wouldn’t do any good if you could,” I said. “We’d never be able to open it anyway. There’s only one thing to do–we have to climb over.”

Flori turned around. She looked at me and then at the path we’d made coming from my house.

“You know, this is really stupid. We could have walked around the block and come in the front way. At least, then we wouldn’t have had to do this mountain climbing.”

A cloud from our breath hovered above us.

I surveyed the fence.

“I know, Flori, but you have to humor me. You know I won’t sleep until I find out if someone has been staying here.”

“You haven’t been sleeping because of this?”

“Well, no, but if we don’t go now, I won’t.”

She shook her head. “Well, let’s go then. If we don’t, I know I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“And, it was your suggestion.”

“Don’t remind me.”

It took several minutes to figure out how to get over. Finally, Flori lifted me up so I could put one foot on the fence, balance for a moment and then fall flat on my face on the other side. I’m sure there could have been an easier way but I didn’t want to provoke my friend. She already felt like a martyr.

After floundering around like a drunk for several minutes, I managed to find my footing and reach over to hold Flori’s hand. She heaved herself up, swayed and then dropped beside me, pulling both of us down into the snow. We burst out laughing.

“Mabel,” she whispered, “I think I wet my pants.”

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “It will just freeze anyway.”

With that, we both collapsed into the snow again and this time, I wet my pants. Just one of the side effects of aging, I say.

On the other side of the fence, we were able to walk alongside a high drift where the snow was only a few inches deep and as hard as cement. Flori could even walk on it without crashing through. No one would even see our footprints.

When we got near the backdoor, I pulled out my flashlight. Flori was right; there were no tracks in the snow. The wind had wiped the snow clean. I walked over to the side of the house where it was protected by a high hedge.

“Mabel,” Flori whispered, very loudly, “where are you going?”

“It’s okay,” I whispered back. “I want to see if there are any footprints by the side of the house.”

“Hurry up, then.” She stood on the step by the door now. The moonlight shone on her face and I could see she didn’t look too happy.

I turned the corner and shone my light on the narrow walkway. It was dark and the moon didn’t light up this area at all. The snow was also very deep. I moved the light along the walkway.

Flori was shivering when I went back to her.

“Well?” she said.

“Well,” I said. “Someone has been here. There are footprints in the snow by the side of the house.”

She clutched my arm. “Let’s get out of here before they see us. They might be inside right now.”

“Flori, look at the path we’ve made. Whoever is here is obviously going to know we came over. We can’t exactly hide our footprints.” Then I paused. “Or, if we’re lucky, they’re going to think we just walked up to the fence and back again. Wouldn’t make much sense but let’s hope that’s what they think.”

She still held my arm. “Then, what are we going to do?” she whispered.

“We’re going to knock on the door, that’s what we’re going to do.”

“Are you crazy? We can’t knock on the door. We don’t know who’s in there.”

“That’s why we have to. We have to find out who’s staying here. It might be legitimate, you know. It could be some relative of the Kruegers; we don’t know.”

Flori looked at the darkened windows.

“If it’s legitimate, then why aren’t there any lights on?”

“That’s probably because no one is here now, Flori. In fact, if whoever was here is the person who killed Beulah, they would be gone now, wouldn’t they?”

“Oh Mabel, will you give up on this murder thing? It’s ridiculous and you know it.”

“Okay, but you’ll see.”

I knocked. I noticed that Flori was holding her breath. I knocked again, louder this time. Silence.

I turned the knob and the door swung open.

Flori gasped. “What are you doing, Mabel?” She made a grab for my arm. “Do you really think we should go in? What if someone sees us?”

I went through the door.

“No one will see us. There aren’t any houses across the street. The house is surrounded by a tall hedge that you can’t see through even with all the leaves off. I’m the only one who can see what goes on at the Kruegers’ house.”

She stepped through the door. I reached around and closed it.

Although the thermometer hadn’t been turned up too high, it felt warm and cozy after being outside. I shone the flashlight around the room.

“Look, Flori.” I walked over to the kitchen table. “Someone has been staying here. Here’s a box of doughnuts.” I lifted the lid and squeezed one. “There’s only three left. They haven’t been here all that long either.”

Flori hung on to my sleeve. “I don’t like this. What if whoever is staying here, comes back and catches us? I don’t want to be kidnapped.”

“Don’t worry, that’s not going to happen.”

“How do you know?”

I could tell by the sound of her voice that Flori was about to start bawling.

“Because we’ll leave right now. All I wanted to do was find out if someone was here. You know, make sure I wasn’t seeing things.”

I moved back to the door.

“Come on, Flori, let’s go back.”

“Oh, thank you. This old house is so creepy. I don’t know why I ever suggested coming here. I must’ve been out of my mind.”

Flori brushed past me and was out the door before I had time to give the room one last glance. But, that was okay. I’d found out what I’d wanted to know.

And, besides, Flori would never find out that I was planning on returning.

No one could convince me that something terrible wasn’t going on in Parson’s Cove. All I needed was proof.

Chapter Nine

After Flori left for home, I kept watch on the house behind mine. I turned off the kitchen lights and stood at the window on my tiptoes until my feet started to tingle and go to sleep. It was now almost midnight. Perhaps, the person who’d been there wasn’t planning on returning. There was no movement, no sounds and no lights. Of course, if it were me, I would go back for the doughnuts but not everyone is like me.

At midnight, I pulled my down-filled jacket back on and wrapped a scarf around my neck. All the cats were sleeping and none of them even woke up to check to see where their mistress was going. They were warm and their stomachs were full. If they needed me, it wasn’t showing, that’s for sure.

I stood on my step for a moment and looked at the backyard. The temperature had dropped again. I shivered but it wasn’t from the cold. This was something that I had to do. What stranger would be hiding out in that old house? Why was he or she there? Wasn’t it quite a coincidence that someone would be here right at the same time that there was a mysterious death? Oh, I know, no one would call Beulah’s death mysterious, but to me, it was. That woman was just too cautious to suddenly fall and hit her head. And, why was someone slinking around her cabin now? I had a feeling Sheriff Smee might be wondering about that now too.

The longer I stood thinking, the colder I was getting so I started my walk over to the Krueger house. Although Flori and I had made what you might call a path, the snow was still so deep, it was difficult walking. I stumbled and fell three times before I made it to the door.

It’s funny what comes to a person’s mind at times like this. I couldn’t help remembering old Mr. Krueger and my father. They spent years competing with each other for the reddest tomatoes, the largest potatoes, the longest cucumbers and the tastiest strawberries. If Mr. Krueger happened to be the winner, my father went to bed for a week, claiming he had the flu. If my father lucked out, Mr. Krueger wouldn’t talk to any of our family for weeks. Actually, I didn’t mind. Sometimes silence is golden. Mrs. Krueger and my mother pretended to be friends. At least, when they happened to be talking–which wasn’t very often.

I turned the doorknob and slid inside, my back against the kitchen wall. I switched on my flashlight. This time I was going to have a good look around.