Calamity @ the Carwash (Parson's Cove Mysteries) (19 page)

BOOK: Calamity @ the Carwash (Parson's Cove Mysteries)
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I couldn’t tell him that he sounded like
Porky Pig when he said ‘inconspicuously,’ so I lied and said, “Nothing’s funny,
Charlie. I’m just excited to think someone else is watching the house too.
That’s all.” I could feel my nose growing but Charlie didn’t notice. “Are the
city cops keeping an eye on Scooter’s garage? Is that what you’re saying?”

He nodded.

“So, is there any good hiding place
where you and I could watch and no one else could see us?”

He nodded.

“That’s good. Could we go there right
now?”

Wrong move. Charlie doesn’t go anywhere
‘right now’ and I should’ve known that.

He started slowly rocking back and
forth.

“You’re not ready to show me the place
yet, is that it?” I asked.

I’ll never know if he was ready to show
me or not because that was all I was getting out of him for one night. After
watching him moving back and forth and humming for several minutes, I decided
I’d start off on my own. How hard can it be to find a hiding place for one very
small person?

Scooter’s garage was facing the back
lane so I headed for that lane. Scooter’s wife was probably at work so I
wouldn’t have to worry about running into her. It seemed to me she’d been
working the night shift at the hospital for years.

To make my little excursion easier for
you to comprehend, you have to realize that many years ago in the old part of
Parson’s Cove, almost everyone built their garages facing the back lane. My
street is the one exception. For some reason I have no back lane and my garage
is at the back of my lot facing the street. Any way you look at it, if there’s
six feet of snow in the winter, there’s lots of shoveling to do.  

Only the light of the moon illuminated
the lane so in other words, it was very dark and in some areas I could hardly
see my hand in front of me. Twice I walked into a garbage can but fortunately,
I was still quite a ways from Scooter’s place. When I was two houses away I
stepped into a backyard and listened. It wasn’t late yet but the street was
very quiet. Of course, there were no young children on this street at all so
probably everyone went to bed before ten. Which is where I should have been.

I slowly stepped forward, placing one
foot carefully in front of the other, until I was one garage away from
Scooter’s place. I stopped and listened again. This time, I could hear muffled
talking and something making a clanging sound. If I stayed on this side of the
lane I wouldn’t be able to see into the garage unless I peeked around the
corner of the door. Not a good idea. So, I backtracked several homes and slunk
across the narrow graveled lane. Now I would be able to look right into
Scooter’s garage if he opened the door, hopefully some time before the sun came
up. 

I decided that instead of trying to
sneak across in front of each garage, I would see if I could go through the
back yards. This was a good idea as long as no one looked out their window and
saw a shadowy bent over figure traipsing across their lawn or garden. Or,
trying to climb over their fence.

I didn’t have too much trouble reaching
the backyard across from Scooter’s garage. This was Amy Hunter’s yard. She had
a daycare in her home and play structures filled the backyard. Now my problem
would be finding a place to settle in for a few hours or as long as it took to
see what was happening behind that closed door.

One structure had two slides - one going
straight down and the other going in the other direction, making a twist. There
was a ladder going up to the top where the children could wait their turn
inside a small ‘house’ that had a pink roof and two tiny windows. I’d found my
perfect hiding place. I carefully made my way over to the play area and climbed
up the ladder. This was definitely not Charlie’s hiding place. It was only
large enough for two small children at the most or me.

I snuggled into my hiding spot and
watched Scooter’s garage from my window. All was quiet except for the muffled
sound of voices coming from within. Every so often, someone would laugh and if
it were too loud the other person would tell him to shut up. I could hear no female
voices. It was warm and actually quite comfortable in my hiding spot except for
the faint tinge of urine. I might mention to Amy that her slides could use some
bleach.

I must’ve dozed off because the next
thing I knew, the garage door was sliding open with a loud creaking sound and I
almost went down the twisted slide. Light from a long florescent bulb streamed
out almost reaching my hiding spot. Before I ducked down, I saw that Scooter’s
car and Calvin’s taxi were inside. Calvin was in the process of putting his
hubcap back on. I heard him yell at Scooter, “Hey, I’m not finished yet. Shut
that door.” Scooter replied, “Well, hurry up. We don’t have all night.”

They didn’t speak again. Calvin drove
off, driving slower than normal and disappeared down the street. Scooter hit a
button on the wall and the garage door went down. That was it. Besides being a
disappointing night, my left leg and foot were asleep. It took a few minutes of
rubbing my leg and wriggling my toes before I was able to climb down the ladder
and walk home. If any of Maxymowich’s men were anywhere around, I hadn’t seen
them.

By the time I’d explained my absence to
seven cats and then climbed into bed, it was almost one a.m. A little nip of
gin did wonders in helping me go to sleep.  

 

 

Chapter
Twenty Eight

 

Saturday morning. I usually wake up
refreshed, especially if I know there are tourists in town and that I might
make enough money in one day to pay for my electrical bill for the month. This
Saturday was definitely the exception to the rule. The older I get, the more
sleep I seem to need. Six hours, interrupted by two bathroom visits does not
make for an energized Mabel Wickles.

Flori phoned at eight thirty to tell me
that she was bringing six dozen chocolate chip cookies to the shop.

“Well, it will have to be ‘first come,
first serve, and no seconds’ because I don’t want you rushing home to bake more
when the first batch is gone,” I said.

“I understand, Mabel. However, you know
I don’t mind making more. It’s such an easy recipe. For the real
chocolate-chocolate ones, you use chocolate pudding mix. Do you want me to
write it up for you?”

“It’s all I can do to keep up with the
muffin demand but thanks anyway. By the way, Flori, has Jake mentioned anything
about Calvin or Scooter lately? You know, like what they’ve been up to? Or, if
they’ve made any trips together? That sort of thing?”

“I can’t remember him saying anything
besides all the money Calvin throws around. He did say that Murray was at the
café yesterday.”

“Really? That’s good. He’ll get over
this much faster if he starts getting out. Sitting watching the water for hours
all day is not a way to cope.”

“I don’t know, Mabel. I think the guys
down there wish he went back to sitting and watching the water.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Nothing happened because Scully and Jim
happened to walk in and stop him.”

“Stop him? Stop him from what?”

“From throwing a punch at Calvin.”

“Are you serious? Why? What did Calvin
say to get him so upset?”

“Jake said that he didn’t say a thing,
just kind of smirked and that was enough to set Murray off. Murray was sitting
with Jake and Denny Wakefield and all of a sudden, he went berserk.”

“What did Jim and Scully do?”

“As far as I know, they grabbed Murray
and held his arms and then he calmed down. He refused to  look at Calvin. He
left right away. Jake and the boys tried to make him stay but he never said a
word - just walked out.”

“I wonder if he’s having some sort of
breakdown, Flori. I mean, he has gone through a terrible shock - first, Bernie
and then, Biscuit. Or, I guess I should say first Biscuit and then, Bernie.
Whichever way it was, it was very stressful for him. But, Calvin? Why would he
be upset with Calvin? Do you think he believes Calvin is guilty of murdering
his friend and his dog?”

“Oh, Mabel, I can’t believe Calvin would
murder Bernie. I know we don’t like him but that doesn’t mean he’s a murderer.”

“I know but that’s the only reason I can
think of for Murray to do something like that. There’s something funny going on
with Calvin and Scooter though, Flori. Even Maxymowich is watching them. I
think it has to do with their cars. I know that doesn’t make sense but it’s
just a gut feeling that I have. Why would Calvin have his taxi in Scooter’s
garage and why would he be putting his hubcaps back on? Why would they be off?”

There was a moment of silence.

“Mabel,” Flori said. “I have absolutely
no idea what you talking about. How did we get from feeling sorry for Murray
and his nervous breakdown to Calvin and his hubcaps?”

I suddenly remembered something else.
Something that Melanie had told me.

“And, Flori, Bernie was always washing
his car. Melanie told me that. It was getting her upset she said.” I had no
idea where I was going with this but somehow, there had to be some connection.
“Why would Bernie suddenly be washing his car all the time?”

“Because it was dirty? You can’t condemn
people for washing their cars. Besides, what does that have to do with Calvin
and Scooter? Probably Calvin had a flat tire and he was changing it in
Scooter’s garage. Don’t you have to take off the hubcaps when you change a
tire? I really have no idea what on earth you’re talking about.”

“I have no idea either but I can’t help
but feel there’s a connection, Flori.”

“Well, let me know when you’ve connected
all the dots. I’ll see you at nine. Make sure you have coffee on before the
crowd bursts through those doors, my friend.”

 

The coffee was on but we were still
waiting for the crowd to burst through the doors. By nine-thirty, Flori and I
had eaten one dozen cookies. They were the chocolate-chocolate ones and they
simply melted in your mouth. To wash them down, we’d polished off two cups of
coffee each. I was still waiting for my first customer. Every ten minutes or
so, I got up and looked down the street. Mutt must’ve had the same idea because
we met once on the sidewalk.

“Where are all the tourists, Mabel?” he
asked. “I stockpiled camping and fishing gear and not one person has come in.
It’s a beautiful day so what’s happened to everyone?”

I looked up and down the street. It
reminded me of the hours just before the fight at the OK corral. Deadly silent.

“I don’t know, Mutt. It’s very strange.
It’s like a ghost town out there.”

“Do you think it has something to do
with the murder? Maybe tourists are staying away because of that. What do you
think?”

What did I think? Wow, this had been my
plan but when did any of my plans ever materialize? Never.

“It could be. Let’s face it - would you
want to stay in a town where someone had been murdered? I don’t mean in a city.
If you stayed away from a city because there was a murder, you’d be staying
away forever. But, a small town? I doubt I’d want to stay there. How about you,
Mutt?”

“I think you’re right, Mabel. That’s
probably the reason. I hope the killer is found soon because you and I could
sure use the business, couldn’t we?”

Mutt walked into his store with his head
hanging down. I took one last look down the street. The only person I could see
was Charlie far down the street and even I couldn’t yell loud enough to get his
attention. Flori was busy packing her cookies back into her Tupperware
container when I went back inside.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

She looked up. “There’s really no need
for me to leave all these cookies here, Mabel. I might as well take some back
home for the kids. Some of the grandkids are coming over this afternoon and I
never have enough for them to eat. Besides, it doesn’t look like anyone is
going to be coming in today. I can’t figure it out, can you? I’ve never seen
the town so empty on a Saturday in the summer. If this keeps up, Parson’s Cove
will be a ghost town soon.”

“I wish you’d stay a little longer. Do
you have to rush home?”

Flori hugged me. “You know I’d love to
spend the whole morning with you but I’d better get back. Jake starts to panic
if the kids come and I’m not there.”

“Jake panics? How the heck did he manage
with all his own children? How many did you have anyway, Flori? Six or seven?”

“Mabel, you are hilarious!”

I reached behind and grabbed a handful
of Kleenex because when Flori starts laughing hilariously, her tear ducts tend
to burst. When she finally calmed down and the wet balled-up tissues were
disposed of, I said, “Seriously, Flori, it’s seems really weird to me that Jake
can’t handle his grandkids without you there for support.”

“Actually, Jake couldn’t handle his own
kids without me there, Mabel.”

“Really?”

“Really. I must be on my way now. I’ll
call later. If you’re not doing anything tonight, maybe I’ll pop over for a
visit and a glass of wine. I’ll need one after this afternoon is over.”  

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