Janet McNulty - Mellow Summers 01 - Sugar And Spice and Not So Nice (4 page)

“You need to be more forceful,” she scolded me.

“Look what you did,” I said in shock.

“Oh, he’ll be alright,” she said passing off my concerns as little importance. “When a guy won’t leave you alone, you don’t politely ask them to leave. You force them to go away.”

“My mother always said that girls should be sugar and spice and everything nice. You know, like that poem.”

Rachel looked at me as though I had just told her I had seen Bigfoot. “You’re kidding, right?” she said. “In this place, sometimes you have to be sugar and spice and not so nice. Come on.”

We reached the top of the steps. The music wasn’t quite so loud up here. I glanced around at all the people in the booths. Some were couples, but most were groups of friends out for a good time.

“There she is,” Rachel said, pointing to a girl in her early twenties. She had shoulder length, blonde hair with red highlights. Thankfully, she seemed to be alone. I weaved my way through the tables and booths towards Sara.

“Hi,” I greeted her. “My name’s Mel.”

She put her drink down. “Sara,” she said, “Nice to meet you. First time here?”

“Yeah.” I helped myself to a seat. “I just moved here for school.”

“Welcome to Vermont,” Sara said. “You’ll be coming here often, I’m sure. Everyone does.”

“You here alone?” I asked.

“Am now. I came with some people but they wanted to go to an after party. I figured I’d finish my drink and go home. You live on campus?”

I couldn’t believe my luck. Sara had just given me the perfect opening. “I moved into the Alamont Apartments, not far from campus. Apartment 214.”

“Rachel’s place,” said Sara. She set her drink on the table. “Why’d you move there?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, “Cheap rent and furnished. I didn’t know about Rachel until after I signed the lease.”

“Don’t worry about it,” apologized Sara, “Of course, you didn’t know. It was a place to rent. And who wouldn’t at the price they were offering?”

“Did you know Rachel well?”

“We were good friends,” said Sara. “Rachel was always fun to be around. This was our favorite place to hang out.”

I tried to think of a way to ease into questioning about the night Rachel died. I couldn’t, so I just jumped into it. “I hear the cops never found who killed her.”

“No. Those bastards. They didn’t even try.”

Clearly, Sara thought that the entire case had been mishandled. That boded well for me.

“They focused on Tom, but that guy couldn’t hurt a fly. He was one of those rare ones that is a genuine gentleman, and isn’t gay.”

I nodded my head in understanding at that last statement.

“Tom loved Rachel. And she loved him. I mean, they were truly in love. They had just gotten engaged two days before. No one knew, but me. No, Tom wasn’t the type. Naturally, there was no evidence for a conviction and the cops let the case drop because they were too lazy to reconsider their list of suspects, or suspect.

“Poor Tom,” Sara continued, “He was devastated by Rachel’s death. The constant bombardment by the cops ruined his life here. Afterward, everyone thought he had done it. He packed up and left when the investigation ended. Didn’t even wait for the semester to end.”

“And no one’s heard from him since?” I asked.

“Nope. He left no forwarding address. Said he didn’t want anything to do with this place. Can’t blame him. His life here ended when Rachel died.”

“Poor guy,” I said. “But who would have killed her?”

“Don’t know. Rachel was with me, here, that night. We had a night class together and usually came here for a little bit afterwards. I remember her leaving at around midnight. She went to her car and that was the last I saw her. An hour later, I got a call from Tom. He said she had left him a cryptic voice message. Something about witnessing a terrible act and needing his help to email a video. She wasn’t the most technologically advanced person. Anyway, he said she wanted to meet him in the computer lab at the college. He got the message late, and when he arrived, she wasn’t there.”

“Why wouldn’t she be there?”

“You know, you’re asking a lot of questions. You aren’t one of those crime junkies that get their kicks prying into unsolved murders, are you?”

“No, I just have a natural curiosity.”

“Yeah, sure you do.” Sara stood up. “Look, I don’t know you and I don’t feel right talking about Rachel’s death to a stranger. Leave me alone.”

“You can’t let her leave,” said Rachel. “Call her a ‘fat chick’. Quick!”

“Fat Chick!” I yelled it out loud and everyone turned in my direction.

Sara paused, glaring at me questioningly. Then, she went down the stairs and my chance of getting more information was over.

I rested my face in my hands in exasperation. “That went well,” I said. “You want to tell me why I just called a complete stranger a ‘fat chick’?”

Rachel sat across from me with a disappointed look on her face. “That was a saying between the two of us. It was something only she and I used. She had to know it came from me. But she’s right. We did come here that night. We were celebrating my recent engagement. I can’t believe that I’d forgotten that. Poor Tom! The police thought it was him?”

“So he didn’t kill you?” I asked.

“Tom? No!” Rachel stared at me as though I had just eaten a rock off the ground. “Tom was the first man to treat me like a lady. He never raised his voice at me, or threaten me. Even when I lost my temper at him, he would just calmly reassure me that everything would be alright. He always did little things for me. You know, the chores that no one wants to do. He did them so that I wouldn’t have to get my hands dirty. No, Mel, Tom didn’t kill me. Of that I’m certain. I miss him.”

Rachel started to cry. I felt sorry for her. She had died soon after getting engaged to a great guy. On top of that, the cops failed to find her killer and almost ruined her fiancé’s life. My heart ached for her sadness. Is this what it was like to die? To linger on, alone, while those you loved carried on with their lives?

“Rachel,” I soothed, “I’m sorry. We’ll find the truth. We will.”

Someone cleared their throat next to me. The waitress had walked up and I never noticed. I looked at her sheepishly, wondering how long she had been there listening to me basically talk to myself. “A beer please,” I said.

The waitress eyed the empty glasses that littered the table. Naturally, she thought that they were all mine.

“You don’t think I drank all of these,” I blurted out, “These aren’t mine!”

“Uh-huh,” said the waitress with her hands on her hips. “Honey, anyone who talks to themselves is either drunk, or crazy. Considering there are all these empty glasses, I figure it’s the former. I think it’s time you went home.”

I scowled at Rachel. She laughed out loud, but, unsurprisingly, only I heard her. I stood up and sauntered toward the stairs.

“Make sure someone drives you home,” said the waitress after me.

I made it to the main floor without too much incident. Once again, I weaved my way through throngs of people who busied themselves with having a good time. I had almost made it to the exit when a big, burly man stood in my way. Leather and tattoos covered his dark skin. I tried to go around him. It was no use. He kept blocking me.

“Excuse me,” I said.

“You one fine honey,” growled the man.

Oh no, I thought. Here we go again.

“How about you and me leaving this place?”

“Some other time,” I said. I didn’t like what he had in mind.

The man inched closer. I held my breath to keep from passing out from his stench. I backed away, but a table blocked my progress.

“Knee him in the stomach and bash his face in,” instructed Rachel.

“What?” I replied.

The man bent down to kiss me. This time, I did as Rachel suggested. I rammed my knee hard into the man’s soft middle. Then, I broke his nose with the heel of my hand. Afterward, I managed to wrench his arm behind his back and bashed his face into the table. The man fell to the floor in agony.

His friends stared at me in shock. I glanced around at all of them not believing what I had just done.

“Anyone else want some?” I said, sounding braver than I felt.

No one moved.

“Time to leave,” said Rachel.

Quickly, I dashed out the exit into the chilly night air. I inhaled deeply to clear out my lungs before I got in my car and drove home.

“I didn’t know you had that in you,” squealed Rachel with laughter. “Dang, girl, you broke his nose on top of that! You are a tough cookie.”

The adrenaline of knocking that guy down eventually wore off. I laughed with Rachel. Even I had difficulty believing that I had done that.

“That is what I’m talking about,” Rachel continued. “Sometimes you have to show a guy that no means no. And if that means dealing out a few bruises, then so be it. You may learn a thing or two from me yet.”

We laughed and giggled the rest of the way home. I finally walked through the door to the apartment at around two in the morning. My eyes barely stayed open long enough for me to make it to my room and crawl into bed.

Chapter 5

It seemed as though I had just fallen asleep when I woke up. Daylight peeked through the curtains in my room. Seven in the morning. I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. Sleep was to be denied to me though.

Jackie burst through the door to my room. “Where were you?” she demanded. “You weren’t here when I got home. And then you didn’t come crawling in until two in the morning!”

I just glowered at her. “What are you, my mother?”

“I was worried about you. It’s not like you to go off like that.”

“I just needed to go out for a bit,” I said. My explanation did little to assuage Jackie. I didn’t know my going to the bar with Rachel would alarm her.

“Right,” said Jackie, “Well, get up. I’ll make breakfast. We can go to work together.”

I crawled out of bed, wishing I could go back to sleep. Drowsily, I went to the bathroom.

“Hey!” Once again Rachel popped in expecting me to drop everything as though I had nothing better to do.

“Rachel,” I yawned, “if you don’t mind, I’d like to shower in peace.”

“I realize that,” said Rachel, “but I might have remembered something.”

I ran my fingers through my hair, not paying any attention to what she said. “That’s great.”

I stifled another yawn. I glanced toward the end of the hallway. Jackie stood there gaping at me.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Instead of answering, I slammed the door to the bathroom.

“We’ll talk later,” Rachel shouted through the door.

Work was unusually busy when Jackie and I arrived. I went to the cashier station and placed my stuff behind the counter. The line of people making purchases slowly grew smaller. I glanced around as I rung up people’s things. Jackie was involved with a difficult lady who insisted that the sage incense did not smell like sage.

Only one other person wandered the floor. Charlie. The man was useless. He loved the paycheck, but did everything he could to keep from working. True to his past, Charlie disappeared as more people walked through the door.

I don’t know why Mr. Stilton hired him. Maybe it was because the two were a lot alike. Mr. Stilton spent most of his time in his office with the door closed. I sighed. It looked like Jackie and I would be running the place again.

“$13.65,” I said to the man in front of me. He paid his bill quickly and walked out the door without so much as a smile. People are so rude sometimes. “Next,” I called.

Before I could even greet the elderly lady in front of me, Jackie grabbed my arm and pulled me to the floor behind the counter. “Jackie…” I began.

She shushed me. “Don’t move,” she whispered. “There’s this guy that keeps coming in here asking for you. I think he might be a stalker. Look.”

She pointed the man out to whom she referred. I peeked around the corner of the counter. I’m sure that the people waiting to pay for their stuff thought we were nuts. I clapped my hand over my mouth, stifling a laugh when I noticed who it was.

“That’s Greg,” I told Jackie. “The guy I have been dating.”

“That’s him?” She peered at him, taking in all of his features. “He’s cute. I approve.” Jackie jumped to her feet, “Greg,” she yelled across the store, “your girlfriend’s over here.”

Humiliated, I gradually rose to my feet. “Greg,” I said, trying to sound like everything was normal. I didn’t want to know what he was thinking.

“You always hide behind the counter?” he asked.

“Hide?” I stammered. “I wasn’t hiding, I was… uh… looking for something.”

Greg gave me one of those “I don’t believe you” looks. He must think I’m crazy. “There is a performance at the theater tonight. I have tickets and wanted to know if you were up for it.”

“Oh? What’s playing?”

“Hamlet.”

I almost dropped my jaw. A guy who was into Shakespeare? I couldn’t believe it. Either that, or he somehow found out that I loved Shakespeare. “I’d love to go.”