A Tourist's Guide to Murder

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A Tourist's Guide to Murder Page 3

by V. M. Burns


  Joseph Mueller smiled broadly, stepped forward, and extended a hand. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  Captain Jessup sneered and stared at the young man. After a tense pause, he asked, “Mueller, is that Jewish?”

  Joseph lowered his hand. “Yes, it is.”

  Lady Elizabeth rose, still holding Rivka. Her back was straight and solid as steel. Her face was stone, her eyes cold. She took two steps and stood in front of the captain. “Do you have a problem with the fact that Joseph is Jewish?” She waited for an answer. Her posture, the set of her chin, and the glint in her eyes screamed that the answer to this question was of vital importance.

  The silence was intense, and based on the expressions on their faces, everyone in the room felt it.

  After a brief moment, Captain Jessup gave a fake laugh. “Not in the least.” With an effort, he extended his hand.

  Joseph Mueller hesitated a half second and then briefly shook.

  When the men released hands, Captain Jessup turned and waltzed toward the window. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and, with his back turned, wiped his hands.

  Lady Clara seethed and took a step toward the captain but was restrained by Detective Inspector Covington.

  Joseph turned to Lady Elizabeth and bowed slightly. Then, he glanced at the boys. “Kom- men sie.”

  The boys hurried, with Rivka, out of the room.

  Lady Clara looked as though she was going to speak but halted when Lady Penelope gasped. “Oh my.”

  Victor hurried to his wife’s side. “Are you okay?”

  Everyone stared at Lady Penelope, who stared back with a shocked expression. Suddenly, she looked up. “I think I just felt the baby move.”

  Chapter 3

  I woke up Saturday morning at you-have-got-to-be-kidding-o-clock with drool running down the side of my mouth, the imprint of my keyboard on the side of my face, 517 pages of gibberish, and Nana Jo shaking my shoulder and yelling in my ear.

  “Wake up!” Nana Jo lifted my eyelid open. “I’ve been calling you for fifteen minutes.”

  I swatted away her hand and sat up.

  “You better shake a leg if we’re going to make the shuttle.” She turned and walked out.

  I looked around to get my bearings. My alarm was buzzing, but I had ignored it.

  One glance at the time sent my heart racing. I was thirty minutes late, which only left me thirty minutes to get dressed and finish packing before it was time to leave. I took several minutes to delete 510 pages of garbage, save what was left of my manuscript, and toss my laptop into a bag.

  I showered, dressed, and shoved clothes into my suitcase in a mad frenzy. In less than thirty minutes, I was backing the car out of the garage and headed toward Shady Acres. I hadn’t had time to style my hair, so it was stuffed under a baseball cap, and I wasn’t wearing makeup. I comforted myself by repeating that I didn’t know anyone in Chicago or England, so it shouldn’t matter that I looked like a homeless person.

  When I pulled into the Shady Acres parking lot, the girls were waiting in the lobby with their luggage. I popped the back hatch of my Ford Escape and got out to assist Larry, the front desk security guard, whom the girls had managed to corral into helping them.

  Between Larry and I, we managed to shift, adjust, rearrange, and cram all the luggage into the back of the car and get the hatch closed after only four restarts. Apparently, the luggage needs for five women traveling overseas for a week is huge. Thankfully, Larry must have been a Tetris wizard in his youth. I couldn’t see out of the rear window, but that was a minor point. We high-fived, fist bumped, and called it a day.

  By the time all the luggage was loaded along with the four passengers, I was exhausted and dripping with sweat. One glance at the time and I put the car in gear, put the pedal to the metal, and burned rubber. Normally, I was much more of a conservative driver, but the shuttle that would take us to the airport in Chicago was forty-five minutes away in River Bend, Indiana, and according to the clock, we had thirty minutes to get there.

  I was fortunate and didn’t encounter any police on my way to River Bend. However, just as we pulled into the parking lot, I saw a large bus driving away, and my heart sank.

  I skidded to a stop, leapt out of the car, and raced after the bus, but he didn’t stop. I muttered a few choice words that might have even surprised Irma and slunk back to the car.

  Nana Jo stared at me. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “We just missed our shuttle to the airport. I’m hot. I’m tired, and I don’t want to miss my flight to England.”

  She patted my leg. “You need to eat.”

  If I didn’t know for a fact that my grandmother could drop kick me like a football, I might have been tempted to use some of my swear words. Instead, I merely stared at her.

  “And you can stop glaring at me, or I’ll take you over my knee and spank you.”

  The fact that I knew she was serious was probably the only thing that could have kept me from crying.

  After a brief pause, she continued, “You’re so upset and flustered that you’re not thinking. Our flight doesn’t leave for hours.”

  I stared at her for a few seconds and then shook my head. “So?”

  She sighed.

  Ruby Mae chimed in from the backseat. “Sam, Chicago is on central time, so they’re an hour behind us.”

  “Chicago is only ninety miles from River Bend,” Dorothy said.

  They were right.

  “You’re sleep deprived from staying up all night writing,” Nana Jo said. “Plus, you didn’t eat breakfast, and your brain isn’t firing on all cylinders.”

  “The shuttle has to stop for pickups,” Dorothy said. “That’s why we had to be here so early.”

  I took a few deep breaths. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  I put the car in drive and headed out of the parking lot.

  “Besides, if you drive to Chicago the way you drove from North Harbor, we’ll beat that shuttle. You were hauling a—”

  “Irma!” we all shouted.

  Irma coughed. “Sorry.”

  I couldn’t fix my lack of sleep, not yet anyway. Nor could I fix the fact that I’d missed the shuttle that was to take us to the airport. However, I was able to fix my lack of caffeine. My first stop was to a fast food drive-through, where I ordered a large hot coffee and a large iced coffee for good measure. Nana Jo insisted I eat a sausage biscuit, which I normally wouldn’t have touched, especially when there was bacon available, but her threat to spank me still rang in my head. Given my mental state, I ate what I was told to eat, and it tasted pretty good. Nourished and well caffeinated, I hit the interstate and headed to Chicago. It was still early, and the traffic into the city wasn’t bad. Ruby Mae was right; Chicago was an hour behind us, so we would definitely make it in plenty of time, even if we hit construction, always a problem in the Windy City, or gridlocked traffic. I wasn’t prepared to test my luck in not getting stopped by the police, so I eased up on the gas until I got in the city. I graduated from college in one of the Chicago suburbs and learned how to drive on the interstate by traveling home to North Harbor on weekends. My best tricks for navigating Chicago traffic were to maintain your speed and don’t look to the left or the right. A glance to the side would show a semi traveling at breakneck speeds about to crush your vehicle like a bug on a windshield. In my youth, that semi would cause me to swerve and end up either swiping another vehicle or causing a near miss with blaring horns, hand gestures, and a lot of swearing. I maintained my speed and whipped through the city and to the airport in less than two hours.

  I parked in one of the covered garages at O’Hare, which only cost a small fortune but was close to the security guard. I got out and said a silent prayer that my radio, hubcaps, and tires would still be there when we returned, and then I left the safety of my car in the hands of providence.

  We unloaded the luggage and rolled our mountain of bags toward our terminal.

  Between not
having to make the extra stops like the airport shuttle, the time zone difference, and the fact I wasn’t hindered by a bus full of strangers forcing me to adhere to the speed limit, we arrived at the airport hours before our flight was scheduled to leave.

  Inside the terminal, we stopped and glanced around.

  Nana Jo patted me on the shoulder. “See, I told you there was no need to panic.”

  “Actually, you never said don’t panic. You threatened to put me over your knee and spank me.”

  She shrugged. “Tomayto, tomahto. Same thing.”

  I shook my head. “I have a nagging feeling that something is going to go wrong.”

  “Don’t borrow trouble. We’re at the airport. We have plenty of time.” She looked down her nose at me. “What could possibly go wrong?”

  Those words ricocheted around inside my gut like a small metal ball inside a pinball machine.

  By the time we got to the counter, the metal ball had lodged itself in my throat.

  “What do you mean you don’t have your passport?” Nana Jo said. “You coordinated this trip! You sent us a mile-long list with reminders on every page not to forget our passports. How is it that you don’t have yours?” She snatched my purse and turned it upside down on the counter, dumping out the contents.

  I was too devastated to be embarrassed even while strangers were handing me lipsticks and personal hygiene products that had fallen to the floor. Instead, I simply collapsed and cried.

  Nana Jo glanced at me once but continued rifling through my personal belongings while I had a mental breakdown. When she had satisfied herself that I was indeed correct and did not have my passport, she looked down at me. “You’re right. It’s not in here.”

  “I’m going to need you all to step aside,” the airline representative said. “I’ve got other passengers—”

  Still seated on the floor with my back against the counter while Ruby Mae tried to coax me to stand, I couldn’t see her face, but I recognized the sudden silence. I’d experienced it before. The frost in my grandmother’s voice confirmed that the poor airline worker had just encountered the wrath of Nana Jo.

  “Now, you listen here. We’ve waited patiently in line for our turn at this counter, and we won’t be pushed aside like yesterday’s garbage. We’re human beings, and we expect to be treated like it. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Now, I’m sure we’re not the first passengers who have ever had this problem. So, I’m going to need you to call your supervisor, manager, or someone who can help us resolve this matter.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Nana Jo glanced down at me. “Sam, this is not the time to fall apart. There’ll be time enough for that later. Now, get up here.”

  Her previous threat of placing me over her knee and spanking my bottom flashed through my brain. “Yes, ma’am.” I scrambled to my feet.

  Nana Jo handed her phone to Dorothy. “Get Jenna on the phone. She’s a lawyer. She’s bound to know what we can do.”

  Dorothy swiped through Nana Jo’s contacts until she found the number, stepped away from the counter so she could hear, and started talking.

  Nana Jo turned into an army drill sergeant and started spewing orders at the speed of sound. She then glanced at me. “You call Frank. He’s got connections. If nothing else, he may be able to pull some strings.”

  I don’t know if my brain was even capable of independent thought, but I followed orders and dialed.

  The supervisor arrived behind the counter. He was a tall, dark-skinned African American man who looked like the Incredible Hulk. His shirt stretched across his muscular chest, and the buttons looked like they were ready to burst at any moment. “What’s the problem?”

  The counter attendant gave Nana Jo a smirk and raised her hand to beckon for the next person in line.

  Ruby Mae stepped forward. “Bucky?”

  The large man pulled his gaze from Nana Jo and looked at Ruby Mae for the first time. Then, his face, which had been cold and hard as granite, cracked, and a huge smile spread across his face. “Grammy Tee Tee.” He climbed over the luggage scale. Arms spread wide, he gave Ruby Mae a big bear hug, lifting her off the ground.

  Nana Jo gave the counter attendant a smirk.

  Ruby Mae’s family was huge. She had nine children and was part of a large extended network. She had a battalion of cousins, nieces, nephews, great nephews, and all manner of adopted relatives. Everywhere we went, her relatives popped up and showered her with hugs, kisses, and food. As her friends, we often benefitted from her connections.

  When she finished greeting the Hulk, Ruby Mae turned to introduce us.

  “Y’all, this is my great nephew, Bucky . . . ah, I mean Dave Junior.” She smiled and turned to her nephew. “These are my friends.” She pointed to Nana Jo. “The loud bossy one is Josephine Thomas.”

  Dave Jr. and Nana Jo shook hands.

  “That’s Dorothy over there on the phone.”

  Dorothy must have reached Jenna because she seemed engrossed. She was scribbling notes on the back of an envelope while talking. She nodded to acknowledge the introduction but kept writing.

  Ruby Mae looked around and spotted Irma flirting with a man traveling alone, who looked like an accountant and was young enough to be her son. “That’s Irma over there.” She turned to me. “This is Samantha. We’re on our way to England.” She smiled. “Sam’s an author, and we’re going to help her research her next book, but she forgot her passport.”

  I had Frank on the phone and smiled. We shook hands, and I tried to look sympathetic without appearing too pitiful.

  Nana Jo turned to glare at the woman behind the desk. “And this . . . person is not being helpful.”

  The worker gave Nana Jo a look that would have crippled a weaker soul. Nana Jo gave the woman a syrupy smirk.

  “Well, I’m sure we can figure something out,” Dave Jr. said. “Let’s go have a seat and see what we can come up with.” He grinned and picked up my luggage and placed it behind the counter. He then escorted us to a private office.

  The office was cramped, but he managed to find five extra chairs so we could all sit. Apparently, arriving at the airport without proper identification wasn’t uncommon, and the airport had a process for dealing with such cases. I would have to provide other forms of identification and submit to an interview with TSA.

  Dorothy waved the envelope with her notes on it. “That’s what Jenna told me.”

  I watched Nana Jo release a heavy sigh and realized how nervous my grandmother had been for me. I reached over and patted her hand.

  My cell phone vibrated, and I read the message from Frank. Tears started to run down my cheeks.

  “What’s the matter now?” Nana Jo said. “It’s going to be okay. You heard what he said.”

  I passed Nana Jo my phone so she could read the message.

  She looked up. “Frank found her passport on the steps leading to the bookstore. It must have fallen out of your purse. He’s driving to the airport with it now.”

  Everyone cheered.

  Nana Jo returned my phone. “You should marry that man.”

  Irma patted her beehive. “If you don’t, I will.”

  I was too relieved to think much about Nana Jo’s comment. When my nerves were back to a normal state, I would remind my body to be embarrassed and protest. It’s taken a while for me to get to the point where I could date after Leon’s death. Then, it took months before the guilt went away because I was dating and enjoying my life with another man in it who wasn’t my late husband. I was finally ready to start a new future, but marriage? That word wasn’t even in my vocabulary yet. I shook those thoughts out of my head. For now, I just allowed the tension to release through my tears and thanked God for sending such a kind, helpful, generous person into my life.

  Dave Jr. smiled. “Great, having your passport will definitely make things a lot easier, especially when you’re traveling internationally. How about some appetizers a
nd drinks while we wait?”

  He escorted us to the airline VIP Club Room and then provided vouchers for drinks and food while we waited.

  The ninety-mile drive took Frank a little more than an hour. He texted me when he arrived, and Dave Jr. accompanied me downstairs to meet him.

  Frank Patterson was five foot ten with a salt-and-pepper beard and hair that he wore cut short like most of the men I knew who used to work in the military. I caught sight of him standing in the terminal and flung myself into his arms.

  We hugged, and I kissed him hard and long. Dave Jr. wandered off to give us some privacy.

  When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathing hard.

  He shook his head and laughed. “If that’s how you greet me after you leave the state, I can’t wait to see what will happen after you actually leave the country.”

  I snuggled close. “I owe you big for this.” I glanced up into his soft brown eyes. “You are a lifesaver.”

  He grinned and handed over my passport. “Glad I could help.”

  “What do you want me to bring you back from England?”

  He whispered his response, and I felt heat rise up my neck and giggled like a schoolgirl. Eventually, I gave him a playful tap. “I’m serious.”

  He gave me a hard stare. “So am I.”

  I waited a few moments. Eventually, he said, “I don’t really want anything but you. However, when you’re in Devon, if you happen across a painted rock, then bring that.”

  I must have looked confused.

  “Look it up on Facebook,” he said. “People paint rocks and leave them around Devon. You’ll know one when you see it.”

  We took a few extra minutes to say goodbye and then he left to move his car, which was illegally parked near the curb.

  I glanced around until I found Dave Jr. waving at me behind the counter. He completed my check-in, placed my luggage, which was still behind the counter, on the conveyer belt, and handed me my all-important boarding passes.

  The desk attendant was still behind the counter. She smirked but said nothing.

  I joined the others, and we headed back to TSA to complete our screening in preparation for our flight, which was now close to boarding.

 

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