Calamity @ the Carwash (Parson's Cove Mysteries) (21 page)

BOOK: Calamity @ the Carwash (Parson's Cove Mysteries)
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I took a drink of wine. My supply of
Sadie MacIntosh’s homemade chokecherry wine was coming to an end. Only six
bottles to last until fall. Every year, I let Sadie put some of her
preservatives in my store in exchange for her wine. Usually I end up buying
most of it so she won’t feel too bad so technically, I pay for the wine.
Fortunately, she knows how to make wine so I don’t mind.

“Probably nothing will happen to them,
Flori. Your kids went through that stage too. At least, these kids are in
sight. Yours weren’t always. Remember when little Jake stole a skateboard? And,
let’s not forget the girls – remember when Rachel got that tattoo and you
didn’t find out until just a year or so ago.” I took another swallow and looked
over at Flori.

By the look of dismay on her face, you’d
think she was on the Titanic and the captain told her they’d just hit an iceberg.

“Tattoo? What tattoo?”

“You knew about Rachel’s tattoo, Flori.
I’m sure I told you. Or, was it Jake? Oh, sorry, maybe I told Jake. Anyway it’s
over and done with and it shows how kids can do foolish things but change.” 

Tears were welling up in Flori’s eyes.
“How could you have kept this from me, Mabel?” The tears flowed, the wine
spilled and I drank.

When the room was quiet again, I said,
“I guess that’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”

I filled her glass again and handed her
a tea towel to sop up any puddles of wine that were lying around.

“That isn’t all that I’m upset about,
Mabel. That’s bad enough but I got a phone call from Mr. Kinney at the
retirement home and he said that he won’t need me to go with the seniors. Not
only that, he said Calvin will be taking them again. I can’t believe it.” She
burst into tears again.

“Calvin is going with them?”

She nodded in between hiccoughs.

“I thought they didn’t want him anymore.
Did the lawsuit scare them?”

She shrugged and nodded in between
sniffles and snorts. “I guess.”

“Oh boy, those old people won’t be too
happy with that. But, why can’t you go? Are they sending them with Calvin and
nobody else?”

This time, she shook her head, took one
last sniffle and said, “No, he said they have another lady all picked out.” She
wailed. I waited. “Why don’t they want me anymore, Mabel? I thought I was very
good with all of them.”

“You were. You were better than anyone
else was. I don’t know, Flori. This is very strange. But, don’t worry, I’ll ask
Reg about it.”

“Oh no, don’t ask him. Please, don’t
tell anyone how I feel. Jake doesn’t even know. I mean it, Mabel, don’t tell
anyone, okay?”

I smiled. “Okay. I won’t. Let’s finish
our wine and talk about positive things. For instance, Bernie’s murder. Reg and
I really do think we’re getting closer to finding the killer. Do you want to
hear about it?”

“Mabel, when I say that I want to talk
about positive things, I don’t mean murder. Isn’t there anything good to talk
about?”

“Well, Esther was in today and told me
why all the tourists left. I guess that’s positive.”

“Why did all the tourists leave?”

“Some old couple said that, as Esther
put it, ruffians were roaming the streets of Parson’s Cove so they decided to
return after the murderer has been captured.”

“There aren’t ruffians roaming the
streets at night. Where would they come up with a story like that?”

“Oh, who knows? The world is full of
silly people.”

 

 

Chapter
Thirty

 

Sunday morning.

Sunday morning arrived with its usual
warm welcome. I tried to sleep longer but by seven-thirty, it was already
stuffy and hot in my bedroom. The only cat who braved the heat and stayed with
me for the night was Phyl but before six, she got up, stretched the full length
of her body, jumped off the bed and left me. The small fan on the table faced
my head and blew hot air in my ear. Finally, I gave in, got out of bed and had
a lukewarm shower before heading downstairs.

While the coffee brewed, I fed the cats.
By the time the coffee was ready, the cats were ready to escape. I opened the
door and they scattered like seven leaves in the wind. I guess after spending
so much time together in the house, they need some ‘alone time.’ I know I sure
did.

It was so much cooler in the shade
outside than inside that I decided to enjoy my coffee sitting in my lawn chair
in the back yard. I don’t have an especially great lawn or flowerbed but I do
try to keep everything looking as manicured as I can. It’s nothing like my
father used to have. For example, I don’t bother with a vegetable garden any
more. I replaced it with a perennial garden. Usually, it’s blooming with
flowers of every color but this summer because of the long dry hot period, I’m
afraid most of the plants were looking dull and droopy. Some people get up and
water early in the morning but I don’t. Every plant and tree in my yard has to
be hardy and survive on its own. Mostly because I can’t afford a huge water
bill to make my backyard that very few people see, look great. Unfortunately,
I’ve found that the hardiest plants in my backyard are the quack grass and
dandelions.

There’s a fence separating my yard and
Krueger’s yard. My father and Mr. Krueger built it over forty years ago. They
don’t make fences like that anymore. I’ve added a few coats of paint over the
years but it’s still sturdy and, as they say, it has endured the tests of time.
There are several shrubs along the fence. I try to plant ones that blossom,
smell nice, and last forever. For that reason, I have five lilac bushes planted
exactly twelve feet apart along the inside of the fence. For several weeks in
June the fragrance from the lilacs is so strong that I almost have to wear a
clothespin on my nose every time I go outside. Not that I don’t like the scent
– I love it; however, it turns out that it makes me sneeze but I don’t have the
heart to rip out all of those shrubs. Besides, it does give me some privacy.
From May to September, someone is usually renting Krueger’s house. Sometimes, I
end up with noisy rambunctious neighbors who have three or four kids. Usually,
however, it’s a couple of old coots who fish all day. They spend the days
fishing and the evenings sitting in the backyard, drinking. There’s an old
homemade barbeque pit back there and if things get too loud, I give Reg a call.
He doesn’t appreciate it but I’ve found that all he has to do is come into my
backyard and peer over the fence. Within ten minutes, everyone evacuates and
only silence fills the night.

Now, as I sat drinking my first cup of
coffee, I was thinking how lovely and quiet it was with the latest renters. I
wasn’t even sure if Jeff’s wife had arrived. They were definitely my kind of
people. Just as I was thinking this and at the same time watching Sammy trying
to sneak through the fence, I heard their back door open. A lilac bush hindered
most of my view but I caught a glimpse of a young woman with white blond hair
walking on the sidewalk along the back of the house. Perhaps, if I saw her
outside again, I’d yell over and introduce myself.

I waited until after ten to make a visit
to Melanie. Reg hadn’t called so I didn’t know if he went over to see her or
not. Besides, sometimes a woman will open up more to another woman. I wasn’t
sure how it would go so I decided that I’d better take some muffins with me. I
always feel that if they don’t let me in, it still opens the way for the next
visit.

It turned out that I wouldn’t have
needed them because before I even knocked, Melanie opened the door.  

“Mabel,” she said. “I’ve been waiting
and waiting for you to visit.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me inside.

The kitchen was cool and dark. The whole
house felt cold and gloomy. Even if all the blinds were up and the sun was
shining in, I think it wouldn’t have made a difference. She kept her hand on my
arm and steered me into the living room. We sat down on the couch.

“Are you all alone?” I asked.

She nodded. There were tears in her
eyes. She blinked them away.

“You know I have to stay here, don’t
you? I can’t leave Parson’s Cove. Did you know that, Mabel?”

“Well, I sort of figured that out. Don’t
they have any other suspects in Bernie’s murder?”

She sniffed and shook her head. “If they
do, no one tells me.” The tears she’d been blinking away now poured out. I put
my bag of muffins on the coffee table and handed her a Kleenex from a box on
the table. I guess she was keeping them handy.

“Oh Mabel, why did I ever make that
stupid confession? What was I thinking? It was all so confusing. I threw that
stone at him. For some reason, I thought I must’ve killed him. I mean, who else
would?” 

I shook my head. “I don’t know.
Something must’ve been going on. Something you weren’t aware of. You said that
Bernie was always washing his car. When did that start, do you remember?”

She was silent for a few minutes, thinking.

“I don’t know what that has to do with
the murder but Mabel, I do remember when Bernie started acting weird.”

“He started acting weird?”

She nodded. “It kind of struck me
strange at the time too, now that I think about it. He took an old pair of shoes
over to Scooter to have him replace the soles. When he picked them up a couple
of days later, he came home with the wrong pair. They looked exactly like
Bernie’s but they were someone else’s. Bernie was very upset because the soles
were falling off this pair so he thought Scooter was pulling a fast one on him.
The next thing you know, Scooter is phoning, cussing and swearing and he got
Bernie all upset. I mean, what’s the big deal about an old pair of stinky
boots, right? You’d think Bernie was the one who’d made the mistake. Anyway,
Bernie hurried back with those boots and I didn’t see him until the next
morning.”

“Are you serious? Weren’t you worried?”

Melanie looked down at her hands. “I
guess I might as well tell you, Mabel, that Bernie and I were having some
marriage problems.” She raised her head. “There were quite a few nights where
he would go out and not come home so, no I wasn’t worried. Angry? Yes. I always
wondered if he was out drinking with his buddies or if he was with some woman.”
She stopped to wipe away a few tears that trickled down her cheek. “I was
thinking about divorcing him and I guess eventually it would’ve come to that.
At first, he wanted to go for marriage counseling but the last month or so, he
showed no interest in saving our marriage at all. He said I could do whatever I
wanted.” Tears ran down her face but she didn’t seem to notice. “That’s not
what a woman wants to hear. I wanted to stick it out. I thought if we could get
through this bad time, things could only get better.”

“What did your parents think?”

“My parents? They’ve hated Bernie from
the start. To begin with, they’re very prejudiced. Did you know that? Remember
Beulah Henry? They wouldn’t even buy any of her produce when she displayed it
outside your store in the summer because she was black.”

“You’re kidding! They hated Beulah? She
was murdered and her own son was involved, how could anyone hate her?”

“I know, Mabel, but I’ve lived with it
all my life.”

“How do they feel about someone killing
Bernie?”

“Well, they try to be sympathetic but I
know that deep inside, they’re probably glad that he’s gone and they don’t have
to deal with him anymore.”

“What do you mean, deal with him?”

She sighed. “Bernie brought on a lot of
his own problems. He didn’t practice his faith but he liked to pretend in front
of my parents. When he came for a meal, he wouldn’t eat any pork and my mother
would make sure she always had pork or ham just to bug him.”

“Do you think your brother might’ve hit
Bernie on the head in a fit of rage or frustration?”

“I don’t know. If he did, I’m sure it
would be by accident but he would never let me take the blame. No, it couldn’t
have been Steve.”

“You said that Bernie started acting
weird after Scooter gave him the wrong boots. Why do you think that was?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. He
started spending more and more time with them. I’d hear him arguing over the
phone but when I walked in, he’d hang up.”

“How do you know he was talking to
Scooter?”

“I’d hear his name. It was either
Scooter or Calvin.”

“Really? Scooter or Calvin? I wonder
what they would be arguing about?”

“Money. At least, that’s what I think.
Bernie was always concerned about money. He bragged to me about showing up my
parents. He always thought they had lots of money but were just stingy. My
parents aren’t rich, Mabel, but for some reason Bernie thought so. I think
maybe that’s why he married me.”

“Well, that and agreeing to swim in the
nude probably helped.”

“Don’t remind me. How could I be so
foolish, Mabel?”

“You were young, that’s all.”

“But look at you, Mabel. You’re the
smart one. I wish I were you.”

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