Our Husband (a humorous romantic mystery) (34 page)

"Did you find anything new?" Natalie asked, nodding toward the schedule book.

"Not yet," Beatrix said, scanning the now-familiar pages for a name or personal scribble she hadn't noticed before. "Wait,

here's something the day before he died, scratched out. I thought it was a mistake, but maybe it's a separate to-do item." She

held the book at arm's length to scrutinize the tiny scribble in the corner of the page—damnable farsightedness.

"
Pick up roses for B-day
," Ruby said over her shoulder, without so much as a squint.

"Thanks," she said sourly. "My birthday was in April. Was he referring to one of you?"

Natalie shook her head. "My birthday is in March."

"February 29," the other one said, grinning like a fool. "I've only had five birthdays."

That explained so much. "Then ladies, we just might have a clue to finding the mystery woman. I doubt if Raymond would

take roses to a client. Assuming the scratch-out means he bought the flowers versus changing his mind, there has to be a receipt

or something." She rifled through pockets in the planner to come up with a few paper clips, a stick of gum, and a business card

with familiar lettering. Slanting a look in Natalie's direction, she said, "Here's a card for your Mr. Butler."

"Who?" Ruby asked.

Natalie's mouth turned down. "He isn't 'my' Mr. Butler. I barely know the man, and what I do know, I don't particularly

like."

"Who?"

"How did you meet him?" Beatrix pressed.

"Who?"

The woman's slender throat convulsed. "He... came to my office under the pretense of seeking treatment, then proceeded to

repossess jewelry that Raymond had put up for collateral against loans."

"Jesus," Beatrix breathed.

The girl thrust her head between them. "
Who
?"

"A man who loaned Raymond a lot of money for gambling debts," Natalie answered, her cheeks aflame.

"So maybe
he
killed Ray."

Natalie wet her lips. "Brian—I mean, Butler was questioned by the police. He had an alibi."

"
Brian
?" Beatrix asked. "Sounds like the two of you are chummy."

"Is he cute?" Ruby asked, bouncing.

The SUV swerved off the shoulder, spewing gravel, then found blacktop again. Natalie's chin jerked up. "I will not dignify

this discussion with a response. Need I remind you my husband was buried a few days ago?"

"
Our
husband," the girl amended, still bouncing.

"Did you forget to take your Ritalin?" Beatrix snapped. "Be still."

"Quincy city limits," Natalie said, sounding relieved. She stopped at a gas station so everyone could pee (at the sight of the

bathroom, however, Beatrix opted for a smoke by the Coke machine) and to ask for directions to Glomby Medical Center. They

threaded through a downtown area past an obscure state university before finding the astonishingly large complex. The place

must employ half the people in the area.

Natalie maneuvered the Cherokee into a parking deck, then cut the engine and turned to Beatrix. "Okay, what's the plan?"

Beatrix blinked. "Plan?"

"Who are we supposed to be? What's our story?"

"We need a story?"

Natalie pursed her mouth. "How else are we going to get in to talk to this, this—"

"Chub Younger," Beatrix supplied from the schedule book.

"How else are we going to talk to him about Raymond without raising suspicion?"

"I don't know."

Natalie leaned her forehead on the steering wheel and laughed. "This is crazy. We should just go home and turn over

Raymond's schedule and the information about the watch to the police."

"We've been through that," Beatrix said. "We're already here, so let's think of a way to check out these leads. If it doesn't

work out, then we'll be back home by dinnertime and at least we know we tried."

Ruby's head appeared. "What if we pretend we're reporters doing a story on the hospital?"

"Fine," Natalie said. "Except they'd probably hand us off to public relations, and even if we did get to interview this

Younger fellow, how would we get him to talk about Raymond specifically?"

"Well, what if we tell him we're from Ray's company and that we're taking over his arms and legs accounts?"

Beatrix scoffed. "And with that mastery of medical terminology, I'm sure he wouldn't suspect a thing."

"Besides," Natalie said, "his company would've already sent out a rep to pick up such a big account."

Snapping her fingers, Beatrix said, "Natalie, you're a doctor, for heaven's sake—you should be able to get in and talk to

just about anyone. We'll split up, and keep our eyes peeled for a fading bouquet of roses on a woman's desk."

Natalie lifted her head. "You think the woman he gave the roses to is here?"

"According to the schedule, he was supposed to meet Chub at nine o'clock in the morning, and we know he spent the night

here. It makes sense that he gave the flowers to someone in Quincy, maybe to someone at the medical center."

"
If
he bought them."

"And if he bought them," Beatrix continued, "maybe he bought them here, too. I'll see if the center has a gift or floral shop

and snoop around. You try to find Chub."

She opened the door, but Natalie stopped her. "What if we get caught snooping?"

She shrugged. "Say you're lost, and don't give your real name."

"Oh, just like
Charlie's Angels
," Ruby cried, then clapped her hands.

"And Red goes with you," Beatrix said pointedly. "Do you have a lab coat?"

Natalie sighed and nodded.

Beatrix brightened. "How many?"

Chapter 32

"That was a cinch," Ruby said as they exited the medical center. She smoothed the sleeve of her white lab coat, marveling

at how smart she felt—and looked, judging from the admiring glances she'd gotten in the halls. To look busy while Natalie

made inquiries, she'd listened to her own heartbeat with the stethoscope Natalie had loaned her from her doctor bag.

"We didn't get anything concrete," Natalie said. "Our luck that Mr. Younger isn't in the office today. We should have

called."

"But at least we know where to find him tonight," Ruby said. She was tempted to ask if she could keep the beautiful white

lab coat, but she didn't want to be rude to Nat, who had been nice enough to loan her a long black skirt and baggy blouse to

look "respectable," as Beatrix had put it.

"And we might even have fun," she added, skipping ahead two steps before she remembered that doctors didn't skip. She

slowed and walked beside Natalie who remained silent, her forehead crinkled, until they reached the parking deck.

Beatrix was pacing next to the SUV, smoking a cigarette that she snubbed out as they approached. "Did you talk to Mr.

Younger?"

Natalie shook her head. "No, he's at an off-site meeting. But his secretary said tonight he'd be at a place called Razor's—

maybe we can catch him there."

"Razor's?"

Beatrix yanked open the door to the Cherokee. Miss Mame commenced to barking her happiness that they were back, but

stopped when Beatrix hollered and bounced an empty pop can off her carrier. Beatrix rummaged around the floorboard, coming

up with Ray's schedule book that was still a little dented from the weight of her big-screen TV. Boy, did she miss that TV.

Beatrix flipped through the pages furiously, then stopped. "Here it is. A note on the page for the day before Raymond died.

It says 'razors.' I thought it was a shopping list, but maybe he was supposed to meet someone there."

The phantom woman they kept talking about? Ruby bit into her lip. Wives were one thing, but she was really going to be

ticked off if Ray had a girlfriend on the side. "Did you find a flower shop?" she asked Beatrix.

Ray's wife looked at her for perhaps the first time without complete disgust in her expression. Ruby swallowed—the

woman actually looked excited.

"Yes, and I hit pay dirt. Raymond did buy the roses there—a dozen red ones. The woman couldn't remember the exact day,

but she remembers he bought them late in the day and that he paid cash."

For a few seconds Natalie looked as if she might start bawling, but suddenly her chest expanded, then she exhaled. "Guess

we might as well check into the hotel and see what we can find out there."

Ruby smiled—someday she wanted to be smart and strong like Nat. "Can we share a room?" she whispered as they

climbed inside the SUV. "I don't have very much money."

Natalie gave her a small smile and nodded. "I don't have very much money, either."

And as it turned out, Beatrix had to stay with them too because there was only one room available, one with two double

beds. Beatrix was super irritated and demanded that she at least have her own bed. And they had to put down an extra fifty-

dollar deposit so Miss Mame could stay in the room with them. It was almost all the money Ruby had, but they promised she'd

get it back if Mame behaved. Once they got to the room, she sat her pet on her lap and had a little talk with her. Then, just to

show her she was still mama's precious little lovebug, Ruby changed her hair bow to pink with white polka-dots.

Afterward, she went into the bathroom and gave herself an insulin shot, then unpacked her gym bag so the medicine could

work before they left to find something to eat. The other women had already unpacked, and Beatrix's stuff was everywhere.

She'd used all the hangers, and left one little drawer for her and Nat to share. As she compared their clothing, embarrassment

burned in her stomach. Next to Beatrix's plain, expensive flats and Nat's comfortable-looking loafers, her white plastic high-

heeled sandals looked cheap. Beatrix had brought slacks, Nat, khakis, and she, short shorts. Beatrix had hung a bag made out of

soft leather on the back of the bathroom door to hold her toiletries. Natalie's cloth bag with clear pouches that held her

bathroom items sat on the vanity. She, on the other hand, had crammed her stuff into a Ziploc freezer bag. How did these

women know what to buy? Who taught them how to be classy? Was it something they were just born being? If so, she was sunk.

Nat appeared in the open door. "Ruby, are you feeling okay?"

She nodded. "Just unpacking."

"How is your blood sugar level?"

"Normal. I checked it a few minutes ago."

Nat tilted her head. "That skirt suits you."

"Really?" Ruby breathed. "It's nice and soft."

"Keep it."

"But I didn't get it dirty or anything."

"That's not what I meant. I want you to have it."

Her jaw dropped. "Really?"

"If you want it. Are you ready to get something to eat?"

Stunned at her generosity, Ruby could only nod. A knock sounded at their room door. "I called housekeeping for more

hangers," Nat said, then disappeared.

When Ruby emerged from the bathroom, a maid was putting extra towels and hangers on the foot of a bed. Beatrix stood

close by, holding a twenty-dollar bill in her hand the same way a customer at the club would hold a tip if he wanted her to see

it and do something special to get it.

The woman looked all around at the three women, her eyes wide. "Did you need anything else?"

"Information," Beatrix said, unfolding her wallet to show a picture of Raymond. "Do you remember this man? His name is

Raymond Carmichael."

The maid nodded. "Mr. Carmichael comes here every few weeks for a night or two. He always asks for extra towels, too."

"Is he always alone?"

The maid looked nervous. "You'll have to ask the front desk about that."

"We did, but we thought you might know more... details." Beatrix put away the picture and waved the twenty.

"Are you the police or something? Is this man a criminal?"

"We're gathering information for the police," Beatrix said with a straight face.

Wow, she was an excellent liar.

"And, yes, Mr. Carmichael might be a criminal. If you know anything, you have to tell. But the police don't tip."

Ruby almost felt sorry for the woman, who looked as scared as a chicken the day before Thanksgiving.

"Mr. Carmichael does have a visitor sometimes," the maid said. "That's why he needs extra towels."

Natalie covered her mouth with her hand. Beatrix looked shaken, too, but asked, "Have you ever seen his visitor?"

The maid shook her head. "The person is always in the bathroom when I come to his room. I just know it's a woman, I

smelled perfume."

"Did Mr. Carmichael have company the last time he stayed here, a couple of weeks ago? It would have been on a Tuesday