Calamity @ the Carwash (Parson's Cove Mysteries) (20 page)

“Sounds good. If you happen to see any
humans walking on the street along your way, send them over here. Tell them
that there are…,” I checked the bowl, “eight cookies left.”

Flori left, giggling.

I was on my fifth cookie when the door
opened and Esther Flynn walked in.

As I’ve mentioned, Esther is my nemesis.
She has been for over fifty-five years. I’m so used to hating her that I don’t
think about it anymore. It just comes naturally and seems so much easier than
trying to like her or understand her or search for any of her redeeming
qualities. 

It all started when we were kids. You’d
think she would outgrow it but she never did. Everyone said she was jealous
because Flori and I were such good friends. It meant that for years I suffered
through insults, frogs in my desk, my braids in her inkwell, my locker filled
with mice, and as we got older, her schemes got more demonic until the last one
she pulled and the one that haunts me to this day. I still can’t believe how
much time she must’ve spent copying my handwriting but she did and she had it
down to a ‘t.’ So good in fact, that she made two copies of a homework
assignment and then secretly removed my copy and put hers in with my name on
it. The next day, the principal called me to the office. Why did they think I
was the one who copied and not Esther? Because Esther sat in front of me, how
could she do the copying? I was given a warning. She got a bit cocky after that
and by the time she’d succeeded in crushing me four more times, I was expelled.

“It didn’t help that you kicked her in
the shins, Mabel.” Flori always reminds me. “And, you hit her over the head
with your binder and broke her glasses. In fact, if you’re being entirely
honest, that’s the real reason you were expelled.”

It’s true; I did all that. Nothing to be
proud of but I do remember how good it felt at the time.

“So, Miss Wickles, where are all your
customers today?” Pushing her glasses up her nose, she continued, “Isn’t this
your busiest day?” She stood at the door and made a dramatic sweep with her
eyes around the room. “Hmmm. Not a nary customer in sight. My, oh my, what will
you do?”

“I’ll tell you what we’ll do - we’ll get
rid of every customer who comes in and doesn’t buy anything. That’s what we’ll
do.” I put my hands on my hips and stared at her. This isn’t easy. Not many can
outstare Esther Flynn.

“Tut, tut, Mabel. You are assuming that
I’m here to gloat but I’ll have you know that I’m more mature than you think.
That is something I’m sure you would do. I happen to be above that. I also
happen to know what happened to all the tourists.”

“Really? Now, how would you know that?”

With a look of grand superiority, she
lifted her already high nose a little higher and said, “Someone told a lovely
elderly couple that there were ruffians cruising our streets at night so they
told everyone staying at the Main Street Hotel and all of them left for home.”

“I’m so happy you shared that with me,
Esther. Please, feel free to walk about my store and if you find something
you’d like to purchase, I’ll give you ten percent off.”

“Fifty.”

“Ten.”

“Forty.”

“Ten.”

“Twenty.”

“Ten.”

“Oh forget it. Everything in this place
is so over priced that getting ten percent off is a slap in the face.”

“Consider yourself slapped, Esther.” I
smiled. “Which reminds me of something that I wanted to ask you: What made you
go over to Melanie’s car and wake her up? You know, when she was sitting in the
carwash the day that Bernie was murdered. I’m sure you’ve told the police
already but maybe you left something out. Do you remember exactly how Melanie
reacted? In your opinion, was she truly surprised to see Bernie lying, dead in
the water, or do you think that she was pretending to be asleep and that she
really did hit Bernie over the head with the brick?”

I knew she would never share any
information with me but I also knew this was a sure way of getting her out of
the store.

She glared, grunted, shook her head and
walked out the door, giving it a good slam in the process. I went to the window
to watch her. After all, I do enjoy a bit of entertainment in my life. The
thermometer that I have attached to my window read eighty-seven degrees. Esther
was wearing a two-piece navy knit suit, which almost reached her ankles, a red
and white scarf wrapped around her neck with red flat-heeled patent leather
shoes and a wide brimmed white hat. She carried a white patent purse. Just
watching her made me walk over and turn the air conditioner up.

Ten minutes after Esther made her
escape, Sheriff Smee walked in. He was still wearing his summer police attire –
no tie, no gun and sandals. His top two shirt buttons were undone and he’d
rolled his shirtsleeves up to the elbow. He still looked hot and uncomfortable.

He took off his cap and fanned his face.

“Man, I can’t take much more of this
heat, Mabel. You got a cold beer?”

“You know I don’t have a cold beer.”

“What do you have? Got some soda pop?”

“I’ll tell you what I’ve got – hot
coffee and three chocolate cookies.”

He sighed and put one of the chairs in
front of the a/c.

“Bring it on. Guess that’ll have to do.”

A few minutes later, he’d gobbled down
the last of the cookies and drained his coffee.

“Well,” I said. “Doesn’t look like you
were too hard done by. Those cookies disappeared fast.”

“They were small. Besides, when I’m
frustrated I eat.” He held his cup out for a refill. “I can’t figure out why
they haven’t found Bernie’s killer yet. How can it be so hard? It has to be
someone who probably walks past us on the street every day.”

“Murray said he thought it was a
stranger.”

Reg shook his head. “I wish it were but
I don’t think so, Mabel.” He stared down at the floor. “Nope, it has to be
someone here in Parson’s Cove.”

“Did Prunella ever say who hit her with
the frying pan?”

“No, she still claims that she fell and
crawled to the bed. Maybe she really believes that she did; she was pretty high
on drugs and liquor.”

“If there weren’t any prints on the
glass tumbler on the table and none on the frying pan, there’s no one to even
question. I wonder if there were any witnesses though. Someone who might’ve
seen a person going into her place. I should ask Charlie.”

Reg stood up. “I’ll take a walk around
town and question a few people. I think Maxymowich had his men talking to
almost everyone but you never know; they might open up more to me.” He put his
cap on and walked over to the door. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Don’t sound so discouraged. There has
to be clues staring us in the face. We just can’t see them yet.”

I looked out the window.

“Reg, look! There’s Calvin’s taxi parked
across the street. Wonder what he’s up to? I’d sure like to know what he does
at night in Scooter’s garage. Those two are up to something. I wish you’d go
and check them out.”

“I’ll tell you, Mabel, if the Captain
suspects them of something, I’m staying out of it. Besides, it’s not that easy
to get a search warrant anymore. If I went to the garage, they wouldn’t have to
let me in and there’s nothing I could do about it.”

“I don’t know; that doesn’t sound fair
somehow.”

“I know. Say, is that one of your cats
over there by Calvin’s taxi?”

“I’d like to say probably not because my
cats stay in the yard but it does look like Sammy. I don’t know. All white cats
look alike.”

“Yeah, but who else has a white cat?
What’s he doing anyway? Looks like he’s trying to scratch off Calvin’s hubcap.”

“I’d better go over and get him before
Calvin comes back. This time, he’ll give Sammy a kick for sure.”

“This time?”

“I didn’t tell you? Sammy snuck on the
bus when we went to the city and for some reason he wanted to sniff Calvin’s
shoes. Well, I guess I don’t blame Calvin; after all, it’s hard to drive with a
cat attacking your feet. When Calvin went to kick him, all the old people got
into an uproar. That’s one reason why he lost his job.”

Reg looked out. “I think you’re too
late, Mabel. Calvin’s coming back to his car.”

Calvin didn’t see the cat until he
walked around to the driver’s side. I watched in dread as he grabbed my cat by
the scruff of the neck. Fortunately, Sheriff Smee is faster on his feet than I
am. He was out the door and racing across the street before I could even get my
mouth closed.

Since Reg was handling it, I thought it
might be wise to keep out of sight. (Flori would’ve been proud). It gave me
great satisfaction to watch him grab Sammy out of Calvin’s clutches. I had no
idea what the two men were saying to each other but it was quite animated.
Twice Sammy jumped out of Reg’s arms and went back to the hubcaps. I was really
beginning to think I had a demented cat. Well, if Flori could put up with her
children whom I thought were demented at times, I guess I could put up with one
mentally challenged cat.

In a few minutes, Reg was back with
Sammy in a football hold. Obviously, the cat didn’t like taking the place of a
football. His ears were back and there was a low growl coming from somewhere in
his throat.

“Here,” Reg said. “Take this cat before
he attacks me. If this were a pit bull, you’d be in real trouble, Mabel. This
is a killer cat, do you know that?”

I grabbed Sammy, who stopped growling
immediately and looked at me, as if to say, ‘it’s about time you came to my
rescue.’ I’d love to say that he started to purr and rub his chin against mine
but he didn’t. He jumped down and ran into the backroom where I keep a bowl of
water and some dry cat food in case any of my cats come for a visit.

“He’s not a killer cat. There’s
something about Calvin that he doesn’t like. Or, something. Something in his
car and on his shoes.” I stared at Reg. “There’s something in Calvin’s boots
and Calvin’s hubcaps that is attracting my cat to them, Reg.”

“Like what, catnip?”

“I’m thinking more like drugs.”

Reg’s mouth dropped open. “I wonder if
you’re right, Mabel. Whatever it is, your cat can’t leave it alone, that’s for
sure.”

“I bet that’s why Captain Maxymowich is
watching them. They might be tied up with the murder. I wouldn’t be surprised.
Maybe Bernie was selling drugs too. Melanie said that he was always washing his
car. Maybe he was washing away the evidence. I think we’re getting some place
now.” I looked up at the Sheriff. “What do you think, Reg? Isn’t this starting
to make sense to you?”

“You could be right, but so far this is
just our imagination. We’ll have to find proof. This means, you don’t talk to
anyone about what we suspect, you got that? Not even Flori. If you do and word
gets around, the whole case will go down the tube. You understand?”

“Of course, I understand. But, it is
exciting when you start to put the pieces together, isn’t it?”

“Mabel, for all we know, Sammy might
smell something entirely different. Maybe some other cat left its mark. In
fact, you should keep an eye on him to see what he’s sniffing out.”

We both looked over at Sammy, now curled
up on Reg’s chair. He looked up and glared at us.

“Sammy,” I said. “If you solve this
murder case, I’ll give you gourmet cat food for a whole year.”

Sammy’s tail switched back and forth as
if he didn’t believe a word that I said.

Chapter
Twenty Nine

Flori arrived at my house a little after
seven. I was in the kitchen. She didn’t even stop; she kept walking into the
living room, ordering as she went, “Mabel, bring me a large glass of wine. I
never want to see my grandchildren again as long as I live.”

She said the ‘as long as I live’ from
the living room couch. I could hear her shoes hitting the floor and the couch
groaning as she sprawled back into it. Two of my cats walked over and looked at
me, enquiringly. “It’s okay,” I told them. “I’m very happy to have you instead
of grandchildren.” This should have made them happy but instead, they walked to
the fridge and demanded food. “On second thought,” I said, “maybe I should have
goldfish.”

I handed Flori her wine in the largest
glass I could find.

“So, what’s the problem? I thought you
adored all those grandkids.”

Flori reached down and pulled two
tissues from her bra. She patted her forehead. “I did. I don’t know what’s
happened to them. Oh Mabel, those sweet innocent children are turning into
juvenile zombies.”

“Watch the wine, Flori.” Her glass kept
moving up and down with each dramatic gesture.

“They are rude, inconsiderate and lazy.
That’s all I can say. No ‘please’ and ‘thank you’; all of them want  to be the
first to get anything and all they do is sit around in the house and play with
their phones and some other thing they call an iPad.” Desperation showed in her
eyes. “What’s going to happen to them?”