Murder and Mayhem (35 page)

“Not.”

“You’re not going to tell me? Is that what you’re
saying?”

Another stand-off at the OK
Corral.

“That’s right,” I said… and kept
typing.

“Okay…. Well.., let me ask you this? Is he the same
man that was on the boat in Vermont?”

I said, “Possibly,” and left it at that as my fingers
flew over the keys trying to keep pace with the words in my head.

I heard a loud intake of breath and sensed another
thought forming in my sister’s head.

“Bubbie, aren’t you worried that at the end of the
story you’ll have all these strange men hanging around with no good explanation
for them to be there? You’re going to have an awful lot of loose ends to tie
up. How can you keep track of them all?”

“We’ll just have to wait and see
when the time comes. Now can I hurry and get through this bit because, as you
know, time and tide waits for no man.”

Her shoulders slumped. “And neither does
radiotherapy.”

I leaned over and gave her a gentle pat on the hand.
“Only two weeks to go, Hon. We’re on the home stretch now.”

*****

When the day turned to evening, and the last of the
sun’s molten rays dripped through the trees and hung low above rooftops casting
long fingers of shadows across the landscape, Danny drove down Hanover Street
and pulled into the parking lot behind the Atlantic Grill Restaurant.

They were perusing the menu when a waiter materialized
with a jug of chilled water and two glasses.

“Shall I give you a minute?” he asked as he filled the
glasses and wiped droplets of water off the table with a cloth.

Danny nodded.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

Danny thought for a moment then noticed a sign wedged
between the pepper and salt shakers. “Margarita, Nic?”

Nicola looked up from the menu she was studying, and
smiled. “A Margarita sounds good. It’s been ages since I’ve had one.”

The waiter nodded and hurried over to the bar. He
returned a short time later and placed the Margaritas on coasters. His eyes
stared blankly out the window as he waited to take their order.

Nicola ordered Caribbean pan-seared cod and Danny,
beef medallions, both with side orders of cornbread and salad. A mobile phone
rang and a loud one-way conversation ensued at the next table. Nicola looked at
Danny and smiled as the conversation took on a personal note, but the man
didn’t seem concerned others could hear.

“I noticed you didn’t bring your cell with you.”

“No point,” Danny said. “It wouldn’t work here. We
don’t have the same servers.”

“But what if someone needed to get in touch with you?”

Danny shrugged. “It would only be the office, and I’m
on vacation. The only people I would need to get in touch with are guys about
parts and I can use the hotel phone for that. The last thing I want is the
office keeping tabs on me.”

The restaurant, apparently a popular haunt with the
locals, soon filled with people while the gravelly voice of a singer issued
from the speakers of a CD player, discretely tucked out of sight.

A man with a cap pulled low on his head entered the
room. He looked around and found a vacant seat at the end of the bar partially
obscured by a potted plant, where he could watch people enter and leave. 

TWENTY-SIX

I couldn’t believe my eyes. I
knew I hadn’t been drinking−but I was seeing double− and, believe
me, it was not a pretty sight.

“Oh, how cute,” my sister cooed–but cute was not the
word I would have chosen.

Twin visions in candy pink,
shiny lime green and iridescent orange were heading our way. Between the two of
them there was enough orange polyester to clothe an entire cheerleading
squad–but fell way short of covering the massive cleavages that spilled forth
like overripe melons. If it wasn’t for the truck tires that passed as waist,
hips and behinds, that kept them grounded, they would have toppled forward and
suffocated everyone in their path.

All conversation stopped mid-sentence and a hushed
quiet fell over the room as all eyes focused on the twin vision as they
teetered towards us on matching glittering six inch stilettos.

Everything down to their candy pink lipstick, orange
blusher and lime green eye shadow were identical, including the colored streaks
in their stranger than usual ‘dos.

The girls did a twirl holding their hands in the air
to make sure we noticed their nails painted in matching iridescent colors.

“Whatchoo think?” Chartreuse asked as she did a
hippopotamus twirl in front of me.

Louanna laughed excitedly. “Haint we summun?”

I…I’m speechless,” I said.

Louanna held onto Chartreuse and lifted one foot in
the air, tottering precariously on a six-inch stiletto. “Looke here Bee, we’s
even had our toenails painted to match our fingernails,” she said thrusting a
foot at me.

I staggered back to avoid getting a foot in the face,
reached down and pretended to tie a loose lace on my sneakers.

“Oh, Louanna those nails are a real nice touch,” Rosie
said.

Chartreuse beamed. “We got that same Ko-re-an girl to
do ‘em special for us, Bee.”

I was struck dumb, completely speechless…, so Rosie
answered for me. “They set the outfits off nicely with everything matching”

I decided to keep my mouth shut in case one of those
feet got stuck in it.

Chartreuse flicked at her hair, “Whatchoo tink of our
‘do, Bee?”

“Oh…Oh!” I stammered still having trouble finding my
voice. “Love the matching streaks. They are so–you!”

“Chartreuse done my hair and I done hers,” Louanna
said.

“Well, I think you both did a real nice job. It looks
so…professional.”

“You think?” Louanna asked.

“Definitely,” I said, but, hey, what would I know?

It was then that Rosie noticed Chartreuse was dressed
in street clothes. “Say, Chartreuse, how come you don’t have your gown on?”

“Oh, I came in this morning ‘n’ had my treatment.”

“Then why are you back here again, is everything all
right?” I asked, suddenly finding my voice.

“Oh, we came in special to see our friends,” Louanna
said.

Rosie and I looked at each other–surely they didn’t
mean us!

Then Louanna and Chartreuse came
up on either side of me, took hold of an arm and guided me down to where they
had left their bags.

“We got a surprise for you,
Bee,” Chartreuse said.

“Oh, goody,” Rosie said,
following behind. “I just love surprises.”

Louanna leaned down, grabbed a
large shopping bag with a store logo splashed across the front in bright colors
and handed it to me. “Go ahead, Bee, open it,” she said, her eyes bright with
excitement.

When I opened the bag and looked
inside I couldn’t believe my eyes.

Rosie saw the stunned look on my face. “What is it
Bubbie?”

Chartreuse gave me a nudge. “Go put them on, Bee,
we’re dying to see how they look,” she said.

I held out the bag. “I can’t accept this, Chartreuse,
it’s too much.”

But she held up her hand. “No, no, Bee. We got ‘em
special, for you, didn’t we Lou?”

Louanna nodded her head up and down. “Uh-huh.”

“That’s real sweet of you girls but I can’t accept
this, really I can’t.” Then I turned to Louanna and tried to hand her the bag.
She held her hands up, unwilling to take it.

“Mr. Pierre made them up special for you ‘cause you’re
such a skinny little ting, with hardly no titties. He only got clothes to fit
the more matua figure, like ours. So we can’t take it back,” Chartreuse said.

“And beside, you’ll hurt our feelings, Bee, if you
don’ accept our gift,” Louanna added.

Rosie grabbed hold of the bag–and looked inside. “Oh,
Bee, these are beautiful. Go put them on so we can see how they fit,” she said
doing her best to suppress a laugh.

Chartreuse pushed me in the direction of the change
room, and said, “Yeah, Bee. Go put them on. We is dying to see how they look.”

…

As I totted self-consciously down the room on six-inch
high heels, the place was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. Through the
hazy mist of embarrassment and humiliation I could sense everyone watching me.
Even the medical staff were hanging out the door of the treatment room – some
with their mouths wide open in stunned surprise – while others had grins on
their faces.

When I stumbled past Mr. Takamura on glittering purple
stilettos, tugging at knickers riding high in my bum-crack, he let out a low
wolf whistle–and then I thought I heard him say, “Babe, you are one hot
potato.” But I could have been mistaken.

A camera flash went off in my face and I imagined my
picture splashed across the front page of every newspaper and magazine in the land.
I prayed a sinkhole would open up in the floor and swallow me whole.

. . .

Later that night I was in the guestroom working on my
book when Ross wandered into the room and asked how my day was.

“Oh, just the usual. Nothing exciting,” I told him.

“Good thing you’ve got your story to fall back on
otherwise your life would be pretty boring.”

“Boring, I could live with. It’s the other stuff that
scares the heck out of me,” I muttered–and kept typing.

*****

 Danny pulled the SUV into the curb, cut the engine
and switched off the headlights.

“Would you like to go for a walk?”

Nicola looked across the river where the glow of
lights reflected on the surface of the water, and nodded. “It’s so pretty here,
isn’t it.”

Dry leaves swirled and crunched beneath their feet as
they walked along the path leading down to the river. The night took on the
orange glow of lamplights, where insects circled in the incandescent glow. The
world seemed like a beautiful place as they wound their way along the narrow
concrete path, accompanied by the sound of water fowl, and frogs, and the
occasional plop of fish jumping for insects that settled on the water surface.
A symphony of music and laughter drifted up from somewhere.

They found a bench and sat listening to the sounds of
the night and the soft lapping of the water against the mossy bank. The air was
sweet with the smell of night-blooming flowers and dew that settled on newly
cut grass. A crow cawed in the darkness as the night mist hovered above the
water and swirled along the bank like fine wisps of smoke in the dusky
rose-colored light.

Nicola looked over at Danny. He was watching an
aircraft pass overhead.

“You told me what it was like growing up a small town,
but what happened when you left? Where did you go? What did you do?” she asked.

Danny watched the lights of the aircraft fade in the
distance as he gathered his thoughts.

“While I was studying at TAFE I worked as a waiter in
a coffee shop to earn enough money to live on, and to pay for my education.
During the day I was either in class or studying, and at night and weekends I
worked. I had no other life and no friends to speak of, but that didn’t bother
me. I was young and I’d set myself goals, something to aim for, so I worked
hard knowing someday my life would be better.

“One cold, wet Sunday afternoon a young woman came
into the restaurant where I was working her arms laden with books. She took a
corner booth in the back where she would sit quietly studying.  She was a
little younger than me with long blond hair she wore pulled back in a ponytail,
bright blue eyes and a sweet, shy smile. And, she came up to here.” Danny
indicated an invisible line on his chest. He stopped and took a sip of water as
he tried to keep the tears from his voice.

“Pretty soon she became a regular customer and would
always sit in the booth at the back where she could study without anyone
bothering her.

“One day I asked her what she was studying and she
told me, medicine. I’d noticed in the past that see she didn’t seem to have
much money so I began to slip her a little extra on the side; another cup of
tea–she only drank tea; an extra sandwich or a bowl of hot soup in the cold
weather. I’m sure the owner knew but I was a good worker, so he never said
anything. And, when the place was quiet I’d sit with her and we’d talk. Her
name was Emma.” Danny said the name, like a whisper, through trembling lips. He
stopped for a while and allowed the memories to wash over him. A frog croaked
somewhere in the rushes. The headlights from a passing car swept over them as
it turned a corner.