Authors: Tina Anne
“Damn, Mom you’re right. Never mind, I do like Marlowe. Get in, I’m driving.”
I got in, buckled up, and held on to my seat. Frankie’s driving occasionally scared me. This was one of those occasions.
We arrived home without being in or causing any accidents. I was happy. When we parked in the garage, Frankie jumped out of the car and ran inside. Ok, so I guess he wanted to warn Pete before even I got there. Why? I closed Frankie’s door. Then I pulled out my phone and called Frankie.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” he answered.
“Nothing’s wrong. Where are you?”
“At home where are you?” He sounded very confused.
“I mean your apartment or mine?” I said. “I don’t want to interrupt until you’re ready for me.”
“Oh. Thanks. We’re upstairs.”
I heard Pete say something in the background.
“Mom, Pete says go to your kitchen and keep an eye on dinner. Everything’s on a timer. When the timer goes off shut everything off. We’ll be down soon.”
Oh, so Pete really was making dinner. I didn’t lie to Marlowe after all. And I guess the buffet would have to wait until tomorrow.
I hung up my phone and went in to my apartment. It smelled wonderful. There was some kind of meat, and maybe some vegetables in the pressure cooker and something was in the oven. The table was set and ready for the three of us. There was even a cake sitting in my cake stand. Did he bake it or buy it? I wasn’t sure, it was too perfect.
There was still about twenty minutes left on the timer. I decided to use the time to change in to some comfortable shorts and a casual shirt. Shorts in November. I loved Florida.
When I walked out of my bedroom and back in to the kitchen there were only a couple of minutes left on the timer. I poured myself a glass of milk and waited. I was a little nervous. Do I just let everything sit? Do I open the pressure cooker? I never even used my pressure cooker. Not even certain why I even bought one.
With one minute left on the timer, Frankie and Pete walked through the door. I was so relieved. Though I wasn’t sure why. I mean I was a pretty good cook. Maybe I was worried about messing up someone one else’s food.
“Don’t worry, Misty, I got it,” Pete said. He headed for the kitchen and got to work.
“No problem, I could have finished it for you,” I lied. I was relieved that he was here, but I didn’t want him to think that I couldn’t cook. I can cook, and I can do it well. But I felt dumb looking at the stove right now.
“Mom,” Frankie said, “we need to talk. Do you want to do it before, during or after dinner?”
“Um. Ok, if we do it after we’ll spend the entire meal thinking about the conversation,” I reasoned.
“That’s what I said,” Pete chimed in as he was removing the lid from the pressure cooker.
“If we do it before dinner, the meal might get cold. Do you think it will take long? Or, will Pete reveal something like he’s the killer?”
“I don’t know how long it will take,” Frankie said.
“Well, it’ll be quick if Pete reveals he’s the killer,” I said. I was trying to joke, but I wasn’t sure they got it.
“I’m not the killer. Don’t worry about that,” Pete said as he was putting the food in to serving dishes.
I was listening to Frankie but watching Pete. There was now a roast on the table. Where did he get that? And there were potatoes. Oh, and what looked like home made rolls. And gravy. And some really yummy looking carrots.
“Mom, are you listening to me?” Frankie asked.
Was he talking? Did I miss something?
I came out of my daydream and looked at Frankie. “No,” I said honestly. “I was thinking about the food.”
“That settles it, we talk during dinner,” Frankie said.
“Sorry, honey,” I said as I sat down.
Pete asked for my plate. I handed it to him and he filled it with the food. He did the same with Frankie’s and then his own. The meal was divine. Everything was full of flavor. The meat melted in your mouth. Pete could give Minerva a run for her money.
About half way through the meal, Frankie finally spoke up.
“Marlowe is going to be here in about an hour. We need to get talking. We need your advice, Mom,” Frankie said.
I swallowed a bite of potatoes and said, “No problem, Honey. Tell me what you’re thinking”.
“We’re thinking Pete is in trouble. Everything Marlowe said was true,” Frankie said.
“Everything?” I turned toward Pete, “Al was blackmailing you?”
“Not that part,” Pete said. “But I am gay.”
“I know, honey,” I said to Pete.
“Yes, I thought you did. You’re more aware than most people.”
“There’s more, Mom,” Frankie said.
“Ok, go ahead,” I said.
“I have a partner,” Pete said.
I waited. I realized that I already knew what they were going to say. I think I suspected it for some time now.
“Mom,” Frankie said. “Look at me, please.”
I looked at Frankie as I put another bite of roast in my mouth. He looked very intense.
“When you’re done chewing,” he said.
I stopped chewing and swallowed my food. I felt like a small child for a moment or two.
“She gets it,” Pete said.
“No, she doesn’t,” Frankie said.
“Yea, I do. You and Pete are lovers,” I said putting more potato in my mouth.
Frankie’s mouth fell open. “Mom! What? How’d you figure that out?”
“Well, there have been several clues over the years,” I said. “You never dated anyone that I knew of. I mean ever. You never even talked about women or turned your head to watch one. But now I realize that you have watched a man or two.”
“Oooh,” Pete teased Frankie.
I laughed then continued. “Pete came down here to be with you after we moved here. You defended him very quickly after Marlowe accused him. That alone made me reexamine things.”
“And…” Frankie said.
“And you look at Pete the way Dad used to look at me. Why are you so upset?”
“If you knew why didn’t you tell me?” Frankie said. He was getting upset. Like his not telling me was my fault.
“Because she knew you would tell her when you were ready,” Pete said. He placed his hand on mine. “Thank you, Misty.”
“You are going to make one hell of a wife. You might even put Angela to shame,” I said to Pete.
Pete looked a bit confused.
“We see Angela as the perfect wife and mother. We’re a little jealous of her,” Frankie explained.
I hadn’t realized it yet, but Frankie was right. Angela was a better mother than I ever was. Maybe I was jealous. Then again I owned a theme park and lived in Florida. My life was pretty great. I mentally stuck my tongue out at my perfect daughter.
Pete squeezed my hand. “Thank you,” he said. “I guess this Al guy’s murder is forcing me to come out of the closet.”
“Forcing us,” Frankie said taking Pete’s other hand.
“You could have told me years ago,” I said. “But not Dad. Oh my God, Dad!”
“I’m afraid of how he’ll react,” Frankie said.
Frank was a man’s man. He never said anything against gays as long as I’d known him. He’d also never said anything positive either. I tried to picture how he would react. His only son would not pass on the family name.
“Are you planning on having kids,” I asked.
Frankie and Pete looked at each other. I got the impression they’d never talked about it before.
“If we do, they’ll have both last names. He can still carry on the family name,” Pete said.
“Damn, you’re scary,” I said. “If I didn’t know better I’d swear you could read my mind.”
“I’m a lawyer. I read minds for a living,” Pete said.
“Well, Marlowe should be here soon,” Frankie said. “Let’s clean up.”
We all pitched in and got dinner cleaned up and put away in record time. We prepared to have the cake in the living room when Marlowe got there.
Frankie stopped and looked at me. “Mom, how will Marlowe take it?”
“He used to live in Chicago, right?” Pete asked.
“Right,” I said.
“Let me tell you something, I lived there once. Chicago has a large gay population. Lots of gay themed stores and bars. I’m sure he’s used to it,” Pete said.
“That doesn’t mean he likes or even tolerates it,” Frankie cautioned.
The door bell rang. “Well, we’re about to find out,” I said.
I let Marlowe in and opened my door for him. I wanted to greet him with a kiss, but then I stopped. He was still in full uniform. He wanted us to know that he meant business. My first reaction was how good he looked in uniform. Then I remembered the circumstances and let him in the room.
We sat down in the living room. Pete handed out plates of cake and cups of either milk or coffee. Marlowe shoveled in the first few bites, and then he stopped and looked at me. He knew that I hated the fact that he never tasted his food. I was trying to get him to slow down and enjoy the hard work of the cook. He swallowed, took a sip of coffee and said, “It’s a great cake, Misty. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I said. “But I didn’t make it. Pete did.”
“Well, it’s a great cake, Pete,” Marlowe said. “Do you mind if we talk while we eat?”
“By all means,” Pete said.
Marlowe set his plate down and pulled out a small note book. “Mr. Witzowski, I have some questions for you,” he said.
“I am ready to answer them honestly,” Pete said.
Marlowe asked Pete why his business card was found in Al’s pocket.
“I told him I was the Summer family lawyer. I didn’t like how he was talking to Misty and I wanted that reporter to worry. I warned him that we were going to sue him for slander. He took my card, but he just laughed at me. Told me he was untouchable,” Pete said.
Untouchable? Apparently he could be touched with a knife. Oops, that may have been an inappropriate thought.
“Ok. Was he trying to blackmail you?” Marlowe asked.
“Not that I knew of. He never contacted me. I don’t have any money anyway. I couldn’t have paid him.”
“Are you aware he had video footage of you kissing another man and was most likely going to use it to blackmail you?”
“No, I did not know that. But again, I do not have money to pay a blackmailer,” Pete said.
I was feeling good. Pete was doing great. He wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t look upset either. He was answering the questions but not adding anything extra. I’d bet that’s what he told his clients to do.
“I should let you know, however,” Pete said ruining my illusion, “that he did say he had something I’d be interested in seeing. I don’t know what it was, I never called him back. I thought he was lying.”
Marlowe’s eyebrows rose ever so slowly as Pete said this.
“But you claim you never called him back,” Marlowe said.
“Not only do I claim it, you can investigate it. Check my phone records, I did not call him,” Pete said.
“Can you tell me who the other man in the video was? Maybe Mr. Learner contacted him.”
Pete was about to speak when Frankie interrupted, “It was me. I was the man in the video. And no he didn’t contact me.”
Marlowe looked at Frankie. Then at Pete. Then at me. I wasn’t sure if he was confused, surprised or both.
“I just found out for certain today,” I said.
“Frank doesn’t know?” Marlowe asked. He knew Frank pretty well. The two of them had gone through lots of training weekends together. I’m sure he knew the answer to his own question.
“No, and we’d like to keep it that way until Frankie and Pete are ready,” I said.
“Ok. I get it. Unless it pertains to the case and I need to reveal it, I will keep the secret,” Marlowe said.
I smiled at him. He would keep the secret. The man didn’t lie. I really liked him.
“Ok, I also want to let you know that we’ve narrowed the time of death,” Marlowe continued. “Mr. Learner left the hotel at about five o’clock that evening. Presumably he had a date. His body was discovered around eight. That’s a very small window. Would everyone like to give me their alibis?”
Marlowe picked up his cake and resumed eating it as we talked.
“Lady’s first,” Pete said.
I took a deep breath. “Well, I walked home from work. You called. I came up here and got dressed. Then I went out with you.”
“Witnesses?” Marlowe asked. He was reaching for another piece of cake. Pete took his plate and got it for him.
“No, but there are security cameras where I walked in the park. Then, of course Frankie and Pete saw me enter my apartment.”
“Ok. Thanks,” Marlowe said. “Who’s next?”
Frankie spoke up first. “I left work a little early. You can see me on the same security cameras. I spent a couple of hours here with Pete before Mom got home and we helped her get ready for her date.”
“Thank you. Pete?”
“Well, I have no real alibi. I was here studying for the bar. I did take a cab and go grocery shopping, but that was in the morning. Other than that I have no proof where I was.”
“You could have taken my car,” I said.