Calamity @ the Carwash (Parson's Cove Mysteries) (22 page)

“You want to live alone with seven
cats?”

I didn’t want to add to her depression
but at the moment that sounded pretty good to me too.

“I’m allergic to cats but you know what
I mean. You were strong enough to fend off all the men who were after you and
you stayed single. I think that’s wonderful. Now, look at you. You have your
own business and you’ve solved murder cases. You should be so proud of
yourself.”

Melanie was revealing things to me that
I’d never known. For instance, when were all those men chasing after me? It’s
true, I think I did make the most of my singleness but that doesn’t mean that I
didn’t feel sorry for myself once in awhile along the way.

“Melanie,” I said. “You keep looking at
your watch. Are you expecting someone?”

She quickly covered her watch with her
sleeve again. “I’m sorry; I didn’t want to be so obvious but Captain Maxymowich
and Reg are supposed to come over this morning.”

“Reg? Reg is coming with Maxymowich?”

She nodded. “Apparently, Reg asked to
come over too. He thought I’d feel more at ease with a policeman from Parson's
Cove and I told the Captain that I would. Do you think it would be a good idea
for them to see you here?”

I smiled and stood up. “Probably not. By
the way, I think you should tell them about Bernie’s involvement with Calvin
and Scooter. And, the shoes. Don’t forget to tell them about Bernie getting the
wrong shoes. I have a feeling that’s going to be important.”

“Do you really think so? I wonder if I
should tell him about the hubcaps?”

I sat down again. “Hubcaps? What about
them?”

“Well, besides washing the car when it
didn’t need it, he started removing the hub caps from his car, cleaning them,
and putting them back on all the time. I asked him why he was doing it but he
told me to mind my own business.”

“Did you ever think they might be hiding
drugs in the hubcaps?”

She looked at me in astonishment.
“Drugs? You mean, like cocaine or marijuana? Of course not. Why would they
bring drugs to Parson's Cove? Mabel, who in our little town would buy drugs?”

“I don’t think Parson's Cove is the
perfect little place you think it is. We don’t live in a bubble here, Melanie.
Besides, we have many tourists all summer. What if some of them like having their
drugs brought right to them? I think there might be a lucrative drug market
here.”

We heard a car door slam and watched
Maxymowich walking up to the front door with Sheriff Smee several feet behind.
I have to admit that I was proud of my sheriff. He found a very legitimate way
of getting in to see Melanie. I hoped that he’d learn even more than I had.

I escaped the living room just as the
doorbell rang and went out the back door. As I snuck down the lane, I detoured
down Scooter’s lane. His wife, Betty, happened to be putting out her garbage
when I walked past.

I think when we see someone putting out
the garbage, we have the natural instinct to look and see what it is. Betty and
Scooter had exactly what I envisioned. She worked nights so had no time to cook
and he was lazy so all they ate were packaged and junk food. It was
disappointing to know that someone who worked in the hospital wouldn’t eat
better though. Not that I wanted to stare but I hadn’t seen that many empty
doughnut and cookie cartons in a long time. This is not counting what Flori and
I eat because everything we consume is made from real butter, sugar and eggs.

“Betty,” I said, in a loud voice but not
too loud that I would make her jump. “How are you? Haven’t seen you around for
awhile; although I guess that’s because you’re busy working nights.”

Betty looked up. She looked like a night
worker - dark around the eyes with tired gray skin.

“Oh, hi Mabel.” She slowly straightened
up and even though she didn’t say her back was aching, I could feel that it
was. “Yeah, I don’t see much of anyone. If I didn’t need the extra cash that
comes from working nights, believe me, I would never do it. Scooter insists
that I quit after next year. I don’t know what he’s thinking. I doubt the shoe
repair business is going to pick up.” She laughed. Not an infectious laugh -
you knew she didn’t expect you to laugh in return.

“I don’t know how you’ve done it all
these years. Even at your age, I don’t think I could’ve handled it.” I gave her
one of my ‘encouraging you to talk’ smiles. “How is Scooter’s business doing
anyway? Seems he’s always busy in that garage of yours.”

She shrugged. “Things have picked up
lately. At least, he claims we’ll have enough saved to go on a vacation this
summer. I could sure use one.”

She reached down to pick up a flattened
cookie bag that had dropped to the ground and stuffed it inside the recycling
box that sat beside the old dented garbage can.

“Scooter must really like his sweets,” I
said. “I should get Flori to bake some cinnamon buns for him. They are so much
better than those store-bought goodies.”

She smiled. “I know we eat too much
junk. I haven’t baked in years. I don’t think I’d even know how anymore.”

“Well, if Scooter is right about his
business picking up, maybe you can retire and do all the baking you’d like.”

“Wouldn’t that be a dream? I hope it
comes true because I’m sure sick of working so much. I shouldn’t say that
though, Mabel, because I do love my job. It’s just the night work that wears me
out.”

“I’m wondering what kind of people get
their shoes repaired nowadays. Of course, I’m always in sneakers so I wear them
until they fall apart. I mean, who wears shoes that cost enough to have
repaired? Why not buy a new pair?”

“I know what you mean. I don’t even get
Scooter to fix my shoes. He gets quite a few orders for work boots from the
city. He said he had some kind of contract with a company. To tell you the
truth, Mabel, I was so tired I didn’t really pay much attention to what he was
telling me.”

“A contract from the city? I would say
that’s the way to go. Good for him. How, on earth, would he get the boots
delivered? You know, all that travelling - would a person make anything after
you paid for the gas?”

“I have no idea but I’m sure he’s
hatched up some plan.”

“I’m sure he has. Maybe Calvin helps him
out. They’re together quite a bit.”

She made a face. “I think he has too
much to do with that guy but he’s a grown man; he should be old enough to
choose his own friends, I guess.” She closed the lid on the garbage can. “I’d
better get back to my cleaning. Nice talking with you, Mabel.”

“Nice chatting with you too, Betty.” I
started to walk away but turned back and said, “How come you have to clean when
Scooter’s at home all the time?”

This time she did a genuine laugh.
“Yeah, right. Thanks for sharing the joke of the day with me.”

Chapter
Thirty One

I felt that we were progressing well in
the case. The murderer hadn’t been caught but there were obviously nefarious
happenings going on in Parson's Cove. Scooter and Calvin were involved in
something and Bernie was in on it too. Or, I should say, ‘had been’ in on it.
Did Bernie double cross them and one of them ended up killing him? Why would
someone kill him behind the carwash though? Especially if Melanie was sitting
in the car. Wasn’t that a bit daring? She could’ve popped around the corner or
opened the back door at any time. Maybe Bernie was doing a drug deal and
something went wrong. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

It was after supper before Reg phoned.

“So?” I said. “What did you find out
from Maxymowich?”

“Not much, Mabel. They’re pretty
tight-lipped about it all. Melanie did tell us about the shoes and hubcaps but
Maxymowich told me afterwards that they’d checked out Scooter’s garage and
house but there was no evidence of drugs of any kind.”

“Really? Scooter must’ve known they were
watching and cleaned everything up. It has to be drugs, Reg. What else could it
be?”

“I don’t know but I do know one thing,
Mabel, we can’t prove anything because your cat is intrigued with some odor.
Besides, I’m sure that drugs would be in a plastic bag or a container of some
sort so how could your cat smell anything through that?”

“I don’t know. I’m very disappointed. I
thought there would be drugs in those shoes and hubcaps. Whatever we do, we
have to find out what those two were hiding because I’m sure that’s why Bernie
was killed.”

“I’ll give you a warning - don’t mention
your cat to the Captain.”

“Why?”

“Because I hinted at it and he almost
choked, he was laughing so hard.”

“Is that so? Well, what if Murray’s dog
was sniffing out something and that’s why it got killed?”

There was a moment of silence on the
other end. There was also a moment of silence on my end. The words had just
popped out but they made perfect sense. Why would anyone hit an old friendly
dog on the head that had never hurt anyone in its life – unless that dog was
sniffing out something that it shouldn’t be?

I knew then what I would have to do.
Somehow, I’d have to get to either Scooter’s garage or Calvin’s boots and take
my cat with me.

“Reg,” I said. “I have a plan.”

For once, the Sheriff thought that I had
a good idea.

Chapter
Thirty Two

Sammy and I were to meet Reg at
midnight. He would pick me up at my house and we’d proceed with caution (in
other words, with the headlights off), first to Calvin’s house and then if his
taxi wasn’t parked outside, to Scooter’s garage.

Sammy knew something was up. Perhaps, it
was because all the other cats were allowed outside and he was forced to stay
in. I definitely didn’t trust him to return home on time. To make everything
look normal, I shut all my lights off by ten and wandered around the house in
the dark.

There were lights on in the house behind
mine. I still hadn’t met Jeff’s wife so I thought that to pass the time, I would
keep my eye on the house. Maybe I’d catch a glimpse of her through the window
so I pulled down my mini blinds and peeked through the slats. Really, what else
was there for me to do?

Good thing that I did too. It was about
ten thirty when I happened to look out the window. Who do you think I saw? Good
old Scooter and Calvin entering Krueger’s backdoor. I also happen to know when
someone is sneaking around. Why else would they both stand on the step and
watch my house until the door opened for them?

I should’ve given Reg a call right then
but I didn’t want to leave my post. They weren’t in the house for very long.
Just in and out. I’d say long enough to make a drug deal though.

“You sure it was Scooter and Calvin?”
were the first words out of Sheriff Smee’s mouth when I told him what I’d seen.

“Of course, it was. It’s pretty easy to
pick those two out even if it’s in the dark. Besides, the kitchen window gave
enough light for me to see their profiles.”

“I know it looks suspicious but I’m sure
the cops did a thorough search. You know Maxymowich. I can’t see him missing
anything.”

“What exactly did they find?”

We were now coasting along on Scooter’s
back lane. Reg was driving his SUV. He’d left the cruiser parked in front of
his house so people would think he was home. Besides, there’s no way you can
sneak around town in a police cruiser. I offered to use my car but Reg said my
1969 Buick would be more obvious than the cruiser. However, I have a feeling
that if I’d told him he could drive, he probably would’ve said okay.

“I don’t think they found anything that
meant anything.”

“Well, just tell me what he told you.
There were no drugs of any kind?”

“The only drugs that they found were in
the house and in the glove compartment of the car.”

“What kind of drugs?”

“Nothing illegal, Mabel. Drugs for
diabetes, that’s all.”

“Who’s diabetic?”

“I think Betty must be.”

“That’s strange because when I was
talking to her today, she didn’t mention anything like that.”

“You were talking to her today?”

“Yeah. She was putting her garbage and
recycling out. I’ll tell you, it was mostly folded doughnut and cake cartons.
She said she didn’t bake anymore so they ate store bought baking. I offered
Flori’s cinnamon buns but if she or Scooter were diabetic, I’m sure she
would’ve said something. Besides, she’s a nurse and she’d be a very foolish one
to have that much junk food in her home if either one was diabetic.”

“I know that doesn’t make sense, Mabel,
but some people aren’t too smart when it comes to health. Sometimes the worst
ones are those who look after other people’s health. She could be diabetic and
still buy cakes for Scooter. Maybe he insists. Or, maybe he buys it.”

“I guess you’re right.” I still couldn’t
help but feel that if Betty was diabetic, she would’ve mentioned it. Women
share things like that. In case someone found out that she was, she’d want to
make sure everyone knew the sweet treats were not for her.