Marja McGraw - Bogey Man 03 - They Call Me Ace (12 page)

Chapter Twenty-two

“Grab the dogs,” I said, jumping out of my chair.

Chris took out after Sherlock and I turned to Watson, who was headed in my general direction. I saw Mikey looking from dog to dog, trying to decide which one he should help chase.

I patted my chest. “Come, Watson.” She looked from me to a plate of food on one of the tables and hesitated. Thankfully, she sat down while trying to make up her mind. I could almost read her mind.
Mom or food, food or Mom.
I picked up a piece of cod from Mikey’s plate and slowly headed for the dog.

Tapping the space between my eyes, I said, “Watch.” Watson knew this command well, but her gaze wavered before she finally concentrated on me. “Good girl.”

Holding the fish out for her to see, I patted my chest again and repeated the
Come
command.

“
Look out!
” Chris yelled.

Unfortunately for me, I was so focused on Watson that I didn’t see Sherlock headed my way. Zooming past Watson, he dove for the cod I held in my hand and knocked me over.

The fish went flying. While I lay flat on my back, Sherlock licked my hand hoping there was more cod, and Watson licked my face. I rolled my eyes, knowing any sense of propriety was long gone.

“That’s twice in one night, you big lugs. Knock me over again and you’ll be staying home tomorrow night.” I tried to sit up but the Labs weren’t finished checking me over for food.

Chris grabbed the two dogs’ collars and pulled them off me, leading them back to the office. Chris Sr. and another male customer helped me up and tried to make sure I was okay. I thanked them and assured them that the only thing hurt was my pride. I headed for the Ladies Room so I could wash my fishy hands.

Returning to the table, I found that Lila and Nate had joined Chris Sr. and Judith. Mikey had pulled over a fifth chair.

“Well,” I said, feeling defeated, “I wonder how long it’ll take for someone to call this little fiasco in to the Health Department. How the heck did the dogs get out, anyway?”

Judith laughed. “Are you kidding? Between me and Lila singing, and you and the dogs, people are buzzing about wanting to come back soon. One guy told me you and the dogs gave him the best laugh he’s had in a long time, and his wife wanted to know if we sing here on a regular basis. You can’t top that kind of publicity. Word-of-mouth is going to bring more people in.”

“Unless someone blabs and the Health Department closes us down.”

Ben and Cloene stopped to compliment Lila and Judith on their singing.

Cloene patted my back. “I hope you won’t be too sore in the morning. That was quite a workout.” She started to laugh, and I couldn’t blame her.

I smiled. “Thank you. Uh, dinner is on the house,” I

whispered. I couldn’t foot the bill for all the guests, but Cloene had been through a lot in the last few days.

Cloene and Ben left, arm in arm.

Chris returned shortly. “I’ll have to change the type of door handles we’ve got on the office first thing tomorrow morning. They’ve figured out how to open the door. I locked it, so we’re good for the rest of the evening.”

We’d had interior door handles installed instead of door knobs so if our hands were full we could open the door without having to set something down to turn the knob. Changing those would make things less convenient, but it would solve the dog problem.

“I can’t believe those silly mutts are smart enough to figure that out,” Chris Sr. said.

“You’d be amazed at the things they’ve learned to do.” I shook my head, thinking of some of their antics.

“Well, we’d better get going,” Nate said, placing his hand on Lila’s shoulder.

She picked up her purse and turned to me. “It’s been fun, but you probably wouldn’t want to repeat tonight’s performance.” She smiled at her own joke. “I do hope Judith will sing with me again. It was nice singing with someone instead of doing a solo.”

Lila stood and turned, and waving at the band she led the way to the door with Nate following.

“So why were the dogs inside?” Judith asked.

“Mikey, would you go check with Chef Luis and make sure everything is okay in the kitchen?” I didn’t want Mikey to know what had happened.

He nodded and walked toward the kitchen, looking every bit the part of the restaurateur with his back straight and purpose in his steps.

Smiling, I thought about how grown up Mikey could be sometimes for a seven-year-old, and yet how childish he could be at other times. He was truly a blessing in my life.

Chris turned to his mother. “Someone slashed one of the tires on the Chevy. Pamela figures it might have been the sap who took a powder earlier. I think when we check the house next door to Kimberly’s, we’re going to find he wasn’t on the level.” He glanced up and saw Mikey returning. “Zip it. Ace is coming back.”

It was late and things were winding down. Chris Sr. and Judith took Mikey and the dogs with them and headed for home. Judith had said she’d get Mikey settled in bed and she and my father-in-law would watch television until we arrived.

Chris and I locked the door after the last customer left and heaved a sigh of relief.

“It’s been a long and weird day,” I said.

“You ain’t just whistlin’ Dixie,” Chris replied. “We might have to change the name of this restaurant to
The Cackle Factory
.”

“Oh, come on, Chris. One night of weirdness doesn’t mean this is a nut house. Besides, everyone seemed to have a good time. I just hope no one turns us in to the Health Department.”

“You’re obsessing about it. All we can do is wait and see. It didn’t look like the dogs upset anyone. Just forget about it unless someone from the Health Department makes a special trip over here to close us down.”

I winced.

“I was only jokin’ with ya, dollface.” Chris reached out and pulled me to him. “We’re going to be fine. Just give it a slow count.”

“Those cockamamie dogs are going to drive me crazy. I swear they can come up with more mischief, no matter how careful we are.” I tried brushing a spot of grease off my slacks, but of course I couldn’t.

“But on the other side of the coin, they’ve saved our bacon more than once.” Chris stepped away from me and put

his arm around my shoulders. “Let’s finish up and go home.”

~ * ~

On Wednesday morning I slept in until eight o’clock and awoke to a quiet house. Reaching over to wake Chris, I discovered he was already gone. It was so cozy in bed that I would have slept in even later if I didn’t have things to do. I forced myself to get up and start a new day.

I checked Mikey’s room, thinking he’d slept in, too, but he was also already gone.

Climbing down the stairs, I mentally prepared myself to fix breakfast and do the dishes. After that I’d take my shower and face the day. There was a note on the table from Chris, and my whole morning agenda changed.

“
Angel
,” it said. “
I’ve taken Ace and the dogs with me to the hardware store. They’re going with me to change the handles on the office door. We’ll eat breakfast out, or maybe I’ll make breakfast at the restaurant. Mom and Dad are gone, too. They wanted to get an early start on the house. Ma said the twins told them to feel free to start working on it since it’s only a matter of the title search being completed.

Love ya, and have a nice, quiet morning.

Chris
.”

I chuckled to myself. That was kind of a wordy note for Chris to write, but it was a thoughtful thing for him to do.

The phone rang and I walked over and answered it. It felt strange not to have Sherlock race me to it and slam into the wall.

“Hello?”

“Pamela, it’s Judith. I just wanted to tell you that if you get bored, you can come over and spend some time with us.”

“Thanks. I just might do that after I eat and clean up. Everything okay there?”

“Weeeell,” she said, drawing the word out, “it appears that someone might have been here last night. Your father-in-law is going to change all the locks today.”

“Was there any damage?”

“You’re not going to believe this, but two of the floorboards were pulled up. Someone sure wants that treasure. Would you bring a broom with you if you come over?”

“Sure. Why?”

“Whoever pulled up the boards left kind of a mess. It looks like we’re going to have to refinish the floors anyway, but this just made it worse.”

“Can’t you hire someone to do the floors? That’s an awful lot of work for you and Chris.”

“Nah, I can do it myself. Besides, that’ll keep me busy.”

“Yeah,” I said, “as if you need anything more to keep you busy. I’ll be over as soon as I eat and get cleaned up.”

I sat down with a bowl of cereal and a glass of milk. It felt odd not to be preparing breakfast for my family, but it was a nice break, too. I saw the copy of
Summer’s Ghost
sitting next to my purse and retrieved the book to read while I ate. Might as well look for some clues.

Marguerite Holden, or Turnbal, had me hooked from the very first paragraph. The story started with the death of an old woman and the diary that was found in her hands. Her granddaughter opened the diary, with tears running down her face, and began to read about the mysterious life of her grandmother, learning things that shocked her. It might have been too melodramatic, but Marguerite had a way with words that no other author I’d ever read could equal. I understood why she’d been so popular.

And since there was a diary involved in the story, maybe it would contain some clues about a treasure. One could always hope.

Chapter Twenty-three

Forcing myself to put
Summer’s Ghost
down, I cleaned up the breakfast dishes and took my shower. After washing my hair and towel-drying it, I let the natural curl have a break from the blow dryer. I was anxious to drive over to the Turnbal house to see what happened. Besides, I could wear my hair up for the restaurant shift in the evening.

I had a feeling we’d all think of the old place as Turnbal House from now on. In reality, since a famous author had lived there, it was kind of a famous house. Finding out it had secret compartments made it even more of a legend. Of course, the legend was only known by my family and a few neighbors – and one killer. I shouldn’t forget that. A brief thought about finding Kimberly’s body swept through my mind, but I brushed it aside.  I wanted justice to be done on her behalf, but I knew if I dwelt on her death I’d start having nightmares about it. Better to set it aside.

A sudden thought struck me and I almost groaned. Big D knew about the secret compartments in the house, and his girlfriend, Sharon Stone, worked as a reporter for the local newspaper. She was always looking for a juicy story in the

hopes of moving up the ladder at work. I hoped he hadn’t mentioned the house to her yet. I’d ask Chris to check with him. The fewer treasure hunters who knew about this, the better.

Picking up my purse and car keys, I hurried outside in anticipation of going to Turnbal House. I stopped dead in my tracks and rolled my eyes when it struck me I had no way to get there. Chris had taken the Chevy, and we’d loaned the Jeep to my in-laws. I almost smacked myself in the head, but as I glanced down the street I saw a familiar truck driving slowly toward our house.

Standing on the curb, I waved my hand at Big D. He pulled up next to me. “Hey, Davey, can you give me a ride to the old house?”

“Sure. Hop in. Where’s Chris? I was hoping I could pick his brain about the types of things his mother likes.”

I threw my broom in the back of the truck and climbed into the cab of the truck. “She likes anything and everything. She’s got very eclectic taste. But you need to talk to her, not Chris.”

“Do I have to? That woman kind of scares me.”

I laughed. “Why?”

“She’s in-your-face about everything. She gets so excited when she talks about what she wants that I wonder if she’s going to explode.”

“Speaking of explosions, you haven’t mentioned Turnbal House to Sharon, have you?” Maybe I could stop Sharon from snooping with a word to Davey.

“Wasn’t I supposed to say anything? Nobody told me to keep my trap shut.”

I sat quietly for a moment, trying to think of a tactful way to tell Davey that his girlfriend was a royal pain in the neck. She had a knack for sticking her nose into everyone’s business, and nothing seemed to get past her. Her one redeeming trait was that she adored Big D and treated him

well.

“Pammy? Did I make a mess of things?”

No one on the face of the earth called me Pammy except Davey. He was the only galoot who could get away with that name. I smiled at him, my attitude softening. He was like a giant, gentle Panda bear, and sometimes his innocence melted my heart.

“Uh, Pammy? Are you going to answer me? Today?”

Glancing out the window of the truck, I noticed that storm clouds were moving in again.

“Sorry, Davey. I was thinking. I’m sure Sharon already knows about the murder that was committed in the house, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And now she knows about the hidden compartments?”

“Yeah.”

“And has she said she wants to go visit Turnbal House?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh huh. Okay, let’s try to figure out how we can head her off.”

“Too late. She was going to drive over to talk to Chris’s mother this morning. I’m really sorry, Pammy, but I didn’t know it was a big secret.”

I smiled to myself. I had a feeling Judith wouldn’t have any trouble dealing with Sharon. In fact, I hoped we’d get there in time to see it. “That’s okay. It’s not your fault. I should have said something sooner. I just didn’t think of it.”

Big D glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “I know you don’t like Sharon all that well, but – ”

“Oh, no, you’re wrong. I like her just fine. I only wish she’d keep her nose out of things until a better time. Like never. As a person, I think Sharon is sweet. At least, she can be when she wants to be.”

Davey was frowning slightly and his mouth looked pinched.

“I really do like Sharon, but she happens to be a reporter, and sometimes I don’t want her to know about things. In fact, why don’t you bring her in for dinner one night this week – our treat? Chris and I will join the two of you. Phyllis can watch things while we eat.”

I sure was giving away a lot of free dinners lately, but I wanted to make up to Davey for my comments about Sharon. It wasn’t his fault he’d fallen for a nosey little go-getter. And actually, I liked Sharon as long as she wasn’t asking questions about sticky situations.

“Sure. We’ll be in. Chris and I haven’t had much of a chance to jaw lately anyway.”

Which meant I’d be stuck entertaining one very annoying female reporter. For a woman who attended church every Sunday, I wasn’t being very generous about Sharon. I’d work on my attitude, and I’d start immediately. After all, she’d probably be at Turnbal House when we arrived.

I saw her car parked in front of the house as soon as we turned the corner. Davey smiled at the sight of it and, shoving aside my trepidation, so did I. It was time to set the tone for my
visit with Sharon. Like a mantra, I repeated
I’m happy to see Sharon today
, over and over in my head while we walked up the walkway. Turning my eyes skyward, I saw that the clouds were thicker and blacker than they’d been when we left my house. The wind had kicked up, too.

The front door was open and voices drifted out to meet us.

“…and then there was the time I made pillows out of dog fur. That didn’t seem to go over very well though because people had allergies, and the idea of dog hair seemed to give most potential customers the creeps. After that I tried making fluffy little toys by gluing the same dog fur to animal shapes, but I ran into the same problem. No one seemed to
get
how

cool the toys were, even after I explained that the fur came from dogs who’d been clipped. I finally threw all the fur away and turned to renovating old furniture. Some of it…”

Judith turned when she heard us enter the house. “Oh, Pamela, there you are. I wondered if you were still coming over.” She was smiling, and yet I could see relief on her face.

I waved at Sharon and she nodded in return.
I noticed she was letting her brown hair grow out and the way it framed her face made her eyes, also brown, stand out. Although we were about the same height, around five foot four, the similarity ended there. Sharon was somewhere in her mid-twenties, about ten years younger than I. Where I had a husband and son, Sharon had no one. Her family lived out-of-state. The only thing we really had in common was our fondness for Big D, and even that wasn’t much of a match since she was his girlfriend and I was his friend.

“I had to get a ride from Big D. I forgot I didn’t have transportation today. Chris drove over to the restaurant to change the door handles.”

My eyes drifted across the room to the uprooted floorboards. “You weren’t joking when you said someone made a mess. I’ll go get the broom.”

I heard Davey talking to Judith and Chris Sr. as I walked out the door. “I’ll take care of this for you. Do you think they found anything? I’m going to need to either sand these boards or buy some new ones. They really tore these up.”

I’d almost made it to the truck when I heard footsteps coming up behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Sharon following me.

“That mother-in-law of yours is quite a, uh, character.” Sharon sounded like she’d probably chosen her word very carefully.

“She’s a little eccentric, but she’s lovable. I heard her telling you about some of her projects.”

“Yeah, but not the one I want to hear about. I want to know about the search for those hiding places. There’s a story in this somewhere. Do you think maybe there’s really a treasure hidden here?”

“Treasure?” I said, trying to sound incredulous. “What treasure?”

“Come on, Pammy.”

I gave her a scathing look, hoping to distract her. Yeah, like that was gonna happen.

“Sorry. I meant to say Pamela. I’ve already talked to your mother-in-law, so I know something’s going on. And of course a woman was murdered here. You know her death must have something to do with all the secrets this house holds.”

“I don’t know any such thing,” I said. “No one knows why that sweet young woman was killed. The police are working on the case, and if you want to know more, you’ll have to talk to Janet Murphy.”

Sharon’s mouth pursed. “Detective Murphy doesn’t like to share information with me. We don’t get along very well.” At least she was being honest. “In fact, she’s downright nasty when I try to talk to her.”

I’m happy to see Sharon today. I’m happy to see Sharon today
. “Oh, Sharon, I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Maybe it’s the
way
you ask questions. I know you’re a reporter, but sometimes you sound like you’re accusing people of something.”

“Accusing them of what?” she asked.

“Oh, sometimes you sound like you think they’re withholding information, or maybe actually lying to you.”

I was surprised when she unpursed her lips and cocked her head, seeming to think about what I’d said. She usually jumped in with both feet and thought about the consequences later.

“You might have a point. My editor said the only reason he hasn’t promoted me is because of my lack of maturity. He said I can be too abrasive, even for a reporter. I need to pick my battles more carefully.”

“Well, there ya go. Maybe if you approach people differently, they’ll talk to you. Sometimes you need to take a gentle approach, and I’ll bet you’d get a lot further.” I raised my eyebrows at her as though asking what she thought of my idea.

She put her hand to her face with her fingers touching her lips and chin. Dropping her hand, she said, “I’ll try it. I’ll try a whole new approach.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’m young and people might think I’m an innocent. They’ll talk to a young, innocent woman, right?”

“You’d think so, but it’ll take more than acting young and not too bright.”

Sharon surprised me again when she held out her hand. “Thanks. You’ve been a big help.”

I took hold of her hand and we shook. “Anytime.”

We returned to the house and found Davey pulling up another board from the floor.

“What are you
doing
?” I couldn’t believe he’d be tearing up more of the floor with Judith quietly standing by, watching.