Calamity @ the Carwash (Parson's Cove Mysteries) (15 page)

“Maybe she does. Anyway, she said she
saw the two of you sitting outside drinking beer. She made sure to call to tell
me. I told her she was a liar because I know that you don’t drink beer.”

“She was close enough to hear what we
were talking about? What was she doing - hiding behind the bushes?”

“She says she just walked past.”

“Well, I didn’t see her so she obviously
was being sneaky. And, how did she hear what we were talking about?”

“I think that came later. She called on
her cell phone from the hospital. Did you say something to May about working
with Reg?”

“She was at the hospital? Man, I’m going
to have to have eyes in the back of my head. I should really go and pay her a
visit, the old goat.”

“No, don’t pay Esther a visit. You know
if you do that, it will end up in a big fight and she’ll cause you more harm
than it’s worth.”

“You’re right, Flori. Well, I’d better
go and pay some attention to my family here. If I don’t feed them soon, they’ll
start climbing my drapes. Thanks for letting me know, Flori. I’ll talk to you
tomorrow.”

“Okay, Mabel. Remember that I love you
and I always have your best interests at heart.”

“I know you do, Mrs. Flanders. Speaking
of my heart – when are you going to bring some of those sweet rich cinnamon
buns around to the shop again?”

It is so much pleasanter to listen to
Flori laughing than yelling or sobbing.

Chapter
Twenty Two

Sheriff Smee stopped in about eleven on
Tuesday morning. Somehow, he managed to arrange it right when Flori walked in
with her cinnamon buns. I won’t complain, however, because I was happy to see
both of them. The sheriff looked much better than the night before and he had
some news for me.

“I visited the hospital early this
morning, Mabel, and I think you’ll be surprised at what I found out,” he said.
This he said after finishing one gigantic cinnamon bun and downing his first
cup of coffee.

“Really?” I said. “You were up to the
hospital? Did you see Prunella?”

“I did. She’s trying to say that she was
alone and hit her head but she’ll have hard time sticking to her story.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because,” he said, with a smug look, “I
sent Scully and Jim out last night to check out all the bushes and hedges
around Prunella’s home and guess what they found about four blocks from
Prunella’s house?”

This is one irritating factor when
trying to solve a murder case with Reg - he insists on making you guess.

“I have no idea. What did they find?”

“Oh, Mabel,” Flori said. “Take a guess.
I’ll say a bloody brick. Am I right?”

“Flori, your eyes are literally
sparkling. I don’t think you should enjoy this so much.”

Reg laughed. “Really, that’s a good
guess. Imagine if it was another brick. That would make for quite the mystery.
Actually, it was a wrought iron frying pan. We took it to the lab at the
hospital and they figure it’s Prunella’s blood all right.”

“Why would she lie, Reg? I don’t
understand.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know but she might
be afraid. Or, maybe she really doesn’t remember. She took quite a hit and the
alcohol level in her blood was out of this world.”

“You’re kidding? That much alcohol? And,
drugs? I heard she had some in her system too.”

He nodded. “You heard about that, did
you? Well, they’re not sure what type of drug it was. The lab is checking it
with the substance that you found. I’m thinking someone maybe put something
into her drink. And then, there’s that money. It doesn’t look good for
Prunella.”

“Speaking of her drink, did anyone check
for fingerprints on the other glass? There was one empty glass that I’m sure
was Prunella’s but there was another one with some rum left in it. If there
are, that will tell us who was visiting.”

Reg nodded. “I haven’t heard the results
yet. Maxymowich sent it away for testing. Let’s hope the prints weren’t
removed.”

Flori reached down the front of her
muumuu top and pulled out about four tissues. In less than three seconds, she
was bawling her eyes out.

“Flori,” I said. “Goodness sake, can’t
you find a better place to keep your tissues? Why are you crying anyway?”

She wiped away some tears from her pink
cheeks and sniffed. “Because I don’t know what‘s happening to our lovely little
town, that’s why. Mabel, people we’ve known all our lives are killing people
we’ve known all our lives.” Another sniff and stifled sob. “And, they’re using
a brick we might’ve walked past dozens of times.” Just the thought of that
seemed to bring on another volley of tears.

“Didn’t you cry enough about that
already?” I asked. “Instead of crying and carrying on, we have to find out who
did this.”

“But now,” she said. “Now, there are
people we’ve known all our lives, putting drugs into drinks. Not only that, the
person drinking those drinks, never drank before.” She magically pulled out
another handful of tissues with one hand and in her other hand, she gripped the
wad of wet soggy used tissues.
            “Well,” I said. “That’s not entirely true.”

“What’s not entirely true?”

“Prunella might’ve sort of had a bit of
a problem before.”

Reg’s eyes widened. “Prunella Flowers
had a drinking problem? You mean before Bernie’s murder?”

“Well, that’s what she told me but it
was in strictest confidence so I’d appreciate it if you never mentioned it to
anyone.” I looked at Flori. “Flori?”

“Why are you looking at me? You know I
won’t say anything to anyone.”

“You have a tendency to forget
sometimes, that’s all. I’m reminding you now.”

She sniffed and rolled up all the
Kleenex into a ball about the size of a medium cantaloupe. “I won’t say
anything if you don’t, Mabel.”

“I’m not saying this to hurt your
feelings; it’s just that I don’t want everyone thinking Prunella is a drunk and
a drug addict, that’s all.”

“I think we’ve discussed Prunella’s
drinking habits enough,” Reg said. “However, if someone got her drunk, put
drugs in her drink and then hit her with a very hard object, I think we’d
better realize that this is no kid’s game here. We’re talking about either one
unsavory character or more. This is getting more complicated and I don’t want
either one of you getting hurt. If you hear something, you come to me. Don’t
try solving anything on your own. Whoever tried to kill Prunella could just as
easily do the same thing to you. You might be the next victim. I mean it.”

“And I mean it too, Mabel,” Flori piped
in. “Don’t get involved in this. If it’s a big drug ring, the Mafia will be
involved and they’ll kill you as soon as look at you. Isn’t that right, Reg?”

“You said it, Flori.”

“Thanks, Reg,” I said. “Now Flori will
be watching every move I make and worrying day and night.”

“I already do anyway, Mabel.”

Reg stood up.

“Well, ladies, I’m going to try to see
what else I can dig up.”

“Does Maxymowich know about the frying
pan?” I asked.

Reg nodded. “I can’t really keep things
like that to myself, Mabel. After all, we do want to find out who killed Bernie
and it isn’t a contest.” He walked to the door but turned and smiled. “Wish I
could solve one murder case before I retire though. It would be like icing on the
cake.”

It would be. It would be icing on my
cake too.

Chapter
Twenty Three

The rest of my day went by quite
smoothly. Most people who came in wanted to talk about the murder and about
Prunella but some had the decency to buy a thing or two. No one seemed to know
much of anything. I made sure to question everyone too. Sometimes the most
innocent remark could lead to a clue or even solving a case.

Most of them were very concerned about
Murray McFerguson. He was sinking deeper and deeper into depression and Erma
didn’t know what to do. I hadn’t heard from her so I supposed she didn’t know
anymore about Bernie and Melanie. No one talked much about Melanie. She was
apparently hiding out in her parent’s home and not seeing anyone. It struck me
that it could be house arrest because obviously she would not be an escape
risk. It sounded like the city cops had interviewed all of her neighbors and
almost everyone in Parson’s Cove, for that matter. Flori said Jake told her
that they talked to all the men who met at Main Street Café. Obviously, someone
knew something.

My Tuesday went by smoothly but I knew
Wednesday wouldn’t be quite as pleasant. Delores came to the shop at eight that
morning and I walked over to Flori’s so we could go together to the Nursing
Home. She still didn’t totally trust me.

“Flori,” I said. “What kind of person do
you think I am? You really think I would leave you all alone with Calvin and
all these elderly people?”

She took much too long to answer.

As usual everyone was waiting for us. At
least this time the weather was cooperating. Smiling faces, walkers, and canes
filled the front sidewalk. Some were sitting in their wheelchairs watching and
wishing they could go. A few just sat and stared, having no idea what was going
on. They were probably the happiest.

Everyone, including the ones who were
staring, let out a loud cheer when they saw us coming down the sidewalk. As we
got closer we noticed most of them were laughing and pointing. I looked at
Flori and she looked at me.

“What’s with them?” I asked. “I think
we’re more to be pitied than laughed at, don’t you?”

Flori turned a pretty pink, which seemed
to enhance the bright pink empire waist top she was wearing. “Do you think my
slip is showing?” she said. “I’ll walk ahead and you check, Mabel.”

“It’s not your slip. They’re pointing at
something. Not us.” I turned around and there walking as proud as could be was
Sammy, my one and only white cat.

“Sammy, what are you doing here? You bad
cat.” I reached down and picked him up. He proceeded to purr and act as if he’d
won the Nobel Prize for best behaved cat.

Flori started laughing. “Mabel, you
should take him over for those folks to see him. I bet they would love to pet
him. Some homes bring animals in for the residents, you know. I think Sammy
would be a really good cat for that.” She reached over and scratched the cat
behind his ears. The cat reacted swiftly by scrambling out of my arms and into
Flori’s. Thus, letting everyone know how love deprived he was.

Calvin sat in the bus with the door
open, scowling as we walked up. His face was enough to ruin anyone’s day. Flori
proudly showed Sammy around and after each pet and snuggle, I would lead that
person onto the bus.

“Say ‘good morning’ to our happy driver,
Mr. Koots,” I said to each one that I brought up the steps and past the
driver’s seat. Mr. Koots replied to each with a grunt. Somehow not one elderly
person took offense.

We were finally all settled in. It
should’ve been Calvin’s job to walk down the aisle to count and check each
occupant but Flori very willingly did that. It took awhile because she had to
stop and hug each one. I was getting almost as restless as the driver was. To
say that he was getting restless was putting it mildly. He started the motor,
tapped his foot, and every few seconds would turn around and ask Flori how much
longer she was going to take.