Honeymoon for Three (7 page)

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Authors: Alan Cook

Tags: #mystery, #alan cook, #california, #los angeles, #murder, #bellybutton fetish, #honeymoon, #washington, #reno, #bodega bay, #crater lake, #nevada, #seattle, #glacier, #national park, #bellybutton, #fetish, #teton, #grand tetons, #ranier, #oregon, #montana, #marriage, #yellowstone

BOOK: Honeymoon for Three
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Gary suddenly remembered that his parents
were in Europe. He had completely forgotten that. His heart sank.
Who else could vouch for him? His brother, Tom, was a grad student
at Harvard. He was in L.A. for the summer, working as a FORTRAN
programmer for an aerospace company. He lived in an apartment, but
Gary didn’t know his phone number. The youngest of the three
brothers, Archie, was with his parents. He had just finished his
undergraduate work and was taking some time off before getting
serious about life.

Gary’s aunt and uncle were the best
possibilities. He had lived with them during his senior year of
high school. He knew the phone number of their farm house well.
They might be home today, since it was Saturday. With the
three-hour time difference between here and New York, it would be
late afternoon there.

Gary gave an “I completely forgot that my
parents are in Europe” excuse to McGinty. It sounded lame. He told
the officer to call his aunt and uncle and gave him the phone
number at the farm. McGinty wrote down the information and went out
of the room, leaving him alone.

The wooden chair was uncomfortable. The room
was dismal. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and he was starving.
His white shirt was wet with sweat under his arms, and not just
from the afternoon heat. Even if he were let go, would Penny still
want to marry him? Would he want to marry her if the situation were
reversed?

McGinty returned, holding Gary’s driver’s
license. “These things can be faked.” He looked at the license from
various angles, as if searching for some elusive truth. “Make it
easy on yourself. Tell me how you killed your parents.”

Gary stared at the officer with the neck as
wide as his head. Certainly not somebody to get into a fight with.
And he was taking a bull-in-the-china-shop approach with his
questioning. A young man, trying to make a name for himself. What
did you do when you were telling the truth but you weren’t
believed? Make up a lie that would be better received? Should he
say that he had chopped them up with an ax, a la Lizzie Borden? He
didn’t answer.

“What’s your real name?”

“My real name is Gary Blanchard.”

“How long have you lived in California?”

“Four years. Well, four and a half
years.”

The questions were getting repetitive. He
stole a glance at his watch. One forty-five. He had been here
almost an hour. Where was Penny? Poor Penny. She must be either
worried sick or ready to dump him. McGinty asked some more
questions. Then he apparently became tired of questioning him and
left the room again.

It seemed like a long time before the door
opened and McGinty returned. He said, almost reluctantly, “You’re
free to go.”

Gary was stunned. He wasn’t sure he had
heard correctly.

“We talked to your aunt. She verified
everything you told us. She said your father works for the city of
Buffalo. She confirmed your address in L.A. The only thing is, she
didn’t know you were getting married today.”

“We were planning to send her a
telegram.”

“And one more thing. We got an answer to our
query from the Kentucky state police. They’re not looking for any
kids who offed their parents.”

“Who told you I killed my parents?”

“We got a tip. From the wedding chapel.”

“But who told her?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

Because he didn’t know, and wouldn’t admit
it. Gary had been questioned based on something pretty slim. He
wasn’t going to receive an apology, either. He decided not to wait
around for one. He got up, remembering to retrieve his wallet with
his driver’s license from McGinty, and walked swiftly out the door
before the officer changed his mind. He found his way to the lobby
and looked for Penny. He saw her in deep conversation with a large
woman.

He walked toward her, wondering how she
would react to seeing him. As he approached, she looked up. Her
face changed instantly from sorrow to joy.

“I’m free,” he said.

Penny jumped up and wrapped her arms around
him.

The woman also got up, much more
laboriously. “Now you children are back together again. You will
have a long and happy marriage.”

“This is my instant friend, Rowanda,” Penny
said. “Rowanda, this is my fiancé, Gary.”

When Rowanda hugged him, Gary didn’t know
whether he would escape without any broken ribs.

“Come to our wedding, Rowanda,” Penny said.
“You can be my matron of honor.”

Rowanda’s body shook when she laughed.
“Honey, I’m not dressed for it. I’m dressed more for a funeral than
a wedding. Anyway, I got to stay here and see about my truant son.
You children go and get married. Have a nice life.”

Penny and Rowanda hugged each other. Then
Penny turned to Gary. “Let’s get married.”

CHAPTER 7

The receptionist at the wedding chapel
looked surprised to see Gary and Penny together. He felt resentment
toward her for calling the police, but he tried to hide it.

“It turned out that I didn’t murder my
parents after all.” He spoke lightly. “Was it the same guy you told
us about before who accused me of murder?”

The receptionist nodded, her look of
surprise turning to puzzlement.

“Did he give you a name this time?”

“He told me his name was Jack London.” She
gave a wry smile. “He didn’t give me his correct name, did he?”

“I suspect not. I don’t know any Jack
London, and the author by that name has been dead for fifty
years.”

“I’m sorry I put you through that. I didn’t
know. I thought you might be in danger.” The receptionist indicated
Penny. She seemed sincerely apologetic.

“It’s all right.” Penny clung to Gary’s arm
as if he might get away. “All’s well that ends well.”

***

The diminutive room they were ushered into
had what looked like a small cabinet covered with a white cloth
that served as an altar. Two lit candles sat on top of it. Two
large bouquets of pink and white flowers graced the floor in front.
Penny’s matron of honor was a middle-aged lady who worked at the
chapel.

“Time out,” Gary said.

Penny’s heart did a flip until she realized
that he was looking around for his “best man.”

“I’m down here.” The small voice belonged to
a girl who barely came up to his shoulder.

The matron of honor knocked on a little door
and said, “If you please.” It opened, and the minister walked
through the doorway. It looked as if he had stepped off a large
Lazy Susan. Rotating from one chapel to another? By the time he had
introduced himself and said a few words, it dawned on Penny that
they were halfway through the ceremony. They exchanged gold rings
they had purchased at the White Front department store in Torrance
for nineteen dollars apiece.

As soon as they said “I do,” a photographer
breezed into the room and took a couple of pictures of them in
front of the altar. The staff was the epitome of efficiency, but
Penny didn’t care. The alternative would have been for her
alcoholic father to walk her down the aisle in front of her friends
and relatives while she pretended to be happy about the
situation.

When they went
back into the reception area, they were presented with
goodies:
Blue Cheer, Bufferin, Micron
mouthwash, spray-on starch, five-day deodorant pads, and a bottle
of Joy. And a temporary marriage certificate.

After a member of the staff took
pictures of them in front of the chapel, Penny said, “I’m famished.
We need to get something to eat. And to send telegrams. I’ll bet
your aunt and uncle are wondering what’s happening to you right
about now.”


I’m sure they’ll be glad to know
that I’m not in jail for ax murders,” Gary said. “Let’s go to the
Cal-Neva Club. I saw it on my ride to the police
station.”

***

Alfred didn’t dare enter the wedding chapel
again. He had lost his credibility with the receptionist and was
positive she would call the police if he showed his face. Even
though he’d changed his appearance, she would recognize him by his
damned potbelly.

His visions of rescuing Penny and carrying
her off had to be abandoned. He had done his best to prevent the
wedding from taking place. In part he blamed Penny, herself. She
should have heeded Gary’s run-in with the police as a warning and
washed her hands of him. When they climbed back into the VW
together at the police station, he knew she was going through with
it. Well, she was young and naive. Gary had her buffaloed. It was
Alfred’s job to protect her from him. And he would.

He watched from his car as they came out of
the chapel to have their pictures taken in front. They were
married. They looked radiant. Alfred’s stomach churned. Then they
went back inside. When they reappeared, they were in their old
clothes. He prepared to follow them.

They drove only a few blocks, to the
Cal-Neva Club. That wasn’t unexpected, since they hadn’t had
anything to eat since breakfast. It would also give Alfred a chance
to grab a hamburger. He had been subsisting on chips and
peanuts.

***

Gary took a bite of his sandwich. “Nobody
knows where we are. So how could somebody show up and try to stop
us from getting married? That’s what this guy was doing, right? Why
else would he falsely accuse me of murder?”

“Maybe it was a mistake,” Penny said.
“Maybe…the woman at the chapel thought he was talking about you,
but he was really talking about someone else.”

He watched her sip her iced tea through a
straw and hoped she was right, but that didn’t seem logical,
either.

“He gave my name—our names. Remember, she
told us he came in the first time while we were changing our
clothes and asked for us by name. She wouldn’t have told the police
he was talking about me if she weren’t sure. The whole thing
doesn’t make any sense. I don’t know anybody who cares whether I
get married or not. Certainly not enough to come all the way to
Reno to try to stop it with a cock and bull story.”

Penny put her hand on top of his. “In any
case, he didn’t succeed. So let’s not let it spoil our
honeymoon.”

“The only people who even had a clue to
where we were going are Steve and Tom.”

His roommate, Steve, hadn’t been at the
apartment the night before they left, although Gary thought he had
mentioned to him previously that they were going to Reno first.
They had eaten dinner with his brother, Tom, a few days before they
left. Tom had been horrified that they were going camping without a
tent and had bought the pup tent for them as a wedding present.
They had scoured West Los Angeles in the evening after dinner until
they had found an open army surplus store.

“They don’t fit the description she gave.
Neither Steve nor Tom has a beard. Or a potbelly. And they are both
well above medium height. And both liked the idea of us getting
married, if I recall correctly.”

Gary grinned at her. “Well, you’ve
successfully eliminated them as suspects. Although Steve at least
has a possible motive. He has to find a new roommate to help pay
the rent.”

“He appears to be pretty successful with
girls. Maybe he can get one to live with him. And pay the rent. The
last time I saw him, he didn’t seem to be particularly worried
about losing you as a roommate. Anyway, we’ve got a long drive
ahead of us. We’d better hit the road.” Penny started to get
up.

“You’re a good detective and you’re
practical, too. No wonder I love you.”

“Let’s just play one game of Keno. It only
costs a dollar.”

“And financially astute. If we lose, I’ll
still be a lifetime winner in Reno.”

***

This was getting old. Following their car
while trying to remain invisible. It was likely they would have
spotted him by now if they weren’t so wrapped up in each other.
Alfred had watched them from a distance as they ate lunch at the
Cal-Neva Club. It was disgusting how they held hands and gazed into
each other’s eyes. He wanted to barf.

They had stopped for dinner at a converted
trolley car. Alfred had grabbed a quick sandwich a little farther
on. He was getting tired of living like this, eating bad food on an
irregular schedule, trying to keep warm while sleeping in the
uncomfortable car. That was another thing. His sweatshirt was
completely inadequate for the cold weather they were encountering.
They had turned off 395 onto 139, and he had a strong suspicion
they were planning to camp at Crater Lake. He was sure it would be
freezing there.

To help keep himself alert, he scanned the
car’s radio dial, trying to find a station that wasn’t all static.
He finally found one. He heard Connie Francis singing the mournful
song, “Everybody’s Somebody’s Fool.” The words resonated with him.
Was he Penny’s fool? He certainly wasn’t her plaything, as another
line said. She didn’t even know he existed. Was there any point to
what he was doing? He was acting like a fool.

They crossed into Oregon after dark, and a
half hour later they were in the small city of Klamath Falls.
Apparently everybody in town was Saturday night cruising. Except
that cruising didn’t describe the situation because traffic was
practically at a standstill. Alfred lost sight of the VW.
Completely. Irrevocably. There was nothing he could do, since it
was taking him five minutes to go a single block.

He mentally weighed his options. He could
assume they were going to Crater Lake. He would show up late at
night at the campground and probably freeze to death before
morning. Or he could stay here in a comfortable motel. In the
morning he would head back to L.A. He would return to his old job.
He would work hard and get promoted. He would start a new life to
go with his new look.

There were other fish in the sea besides
Penny. He would find a girl who appreciated him. Penny had shown
herself unworthy of his love. He was through with her. As he was
thinking these thoughts, he spotted a motel on the right,
conveniently located. This was a sign. He pulled into the driveway
and felt a surge of relief.

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