“What’s that supposed to mean?” Trixie snapped.
“Well, I have reason to believe that she was blackmailing some people. I just wondered if you were involved in that.”
Trixie stared at Gertrude for several seconds, seeming to size her up. Then she said, “Do the cops know?”
Gertrude said, “I don’t think so.” Then she had a second thought. “But I did tell a friend, you know, for my own safety.”
“So why are you making this your problem?”
“I have my reasons,” Gertrude said.
“Well, you should be careful,” Trixie said. “Lori was mixed up with some not-so-nice folks. Turns out people don’t like being blackmailed.”
“Were you in on it?”
“Just between us?” Trixie asked.
Gertrude nodded.
“Yeah, but I’ll deny it. Besides, I’m sure the whole thing’s over now.”
“What was your cut?” Gertrude asked.
“Half.”
“How many men?”
“Two.”
“Who?” Gertrude probed.
Trixie didn’t answer.
“Look, I know one of them was Silas.”
Trixie became furious, and she looked scared. “I think I’ve answered enough of your questions. You’re not even a cop. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.” She flung open the door and walked out.
When Gertrude came out onto the main floor, she saw Calvin staring at her. He actually looked concerned. She headed his way until something else caught her eye. The man from the second photo was sitting in front of the stage. He was alone. Gertrude veered off her path and headed his way. Before she could reach him though, Calvin grabbed her arm. “We should go.”
“No, wait!” Gertrude cried as Calvin dragged her away.
“Come on. We’ve got to get out of here.”
Gertrude gave up and followed Calvin outside. Once they were breathing the refreshingly clean outside air, Gertrude snapped, “What?! Now you’ll probably have to pay to get us back in there.”
“I’m not going back in there, you nincompoop!”
“Oh, name calling, nice.”
Calvin headed toward his car. Gertrude looked around for a better plan and then followed him.
When they reached the Cadillac, Gertrude caught her breath and asked, “What happened?”
Calvin looked pretty winded himself. He put his arms on the roof of the car and leaned on them. “I’m too old for this, Gertrude. I’m glad you’re having an adventure, but I don’t want to be part of it anymore. That guy you were going to talk to? He’s a cop. I know him. He used to date my daughter.”
“You have a daughter?” Gertrude interrupted. She couldn’t picture it.
“Yes, I have a daughter. Anyway, that guy’s Frank Malone. First of all, he’s married. Second, he’s a cop, and you were going to ask him about a murder, and you’re not a cop. You were going to get yourself in trouble, and that was going to call attention to me, and I couldn’t let that happen, because you know who else was in that room?”
“Half of Mattawooptock?”
“My granddaughter!”
“You have a granddaughter?” Calvin was just full of surprises.
“Yes, she just took the stage, so to speak. Can you even imagine how uncomfortable that would have been if she had seen me in there, seeing her? Look, get in the car or don’t. Either way, I’m going home. It’s the middle of the night for crying out loud.”
Gertrude got in the car. Calvin pulled out into the empty street.
“Calvin?”
He sighed. “What.”
“I understand. You’re tired. This isn’t your adventure. But I think someone might be in danger. Would you help me make sure she’s OK? You don’t even have to get out of the—”
“No. If someone is in danger, tell the police.”
“Pull the car over.”
“What?”
“Pull over. I have to show you something.”
Calvin pulled over. Gertrude unbuckled and then grunted as she rolled over to reach over the back of the seat to her walker pouch. She couldn’t quite reach, so she pulled herself up and over the seat, causing her rear end to hover perilously close to Calvin’s face.
“Do you mind?” he asked, pressing himself against his door.
She grabbed the envelope and allowed herself to drop back into her seat, which shook the whole car. She pulled the photos out of the envelope. Calvin flicked on the reading light and then gasped at the sight of Silas tangled up with Trixie. “This is the girl I was talking to. Trixie. I think she’s in danger,” she said, pointing to the top photo. Then she slid it off the pile. “And this,” she said, pointing to the second man, “is your cop. I think Lori and Trixie were blackmailing these men with these photos. I found them in Lori’s trailer.”
“The men or the photos?”
“The photos. And Trixie said they were only blackmailing two men. Which means they hadn’t started blackmailing one of them yet. I think they just started to blackmail the mayor, and he freaked out and killed Lori. I think he might kill Trixie too.”
“Wait, why would Frank be in the strip club if he were being blackmailed?”
“I don’t know,” Gertrude said thoughtfully. “Maybe his wife allows him to go to the strip club but she draws the line at fornicating with the stripper.”
“So,” Calvin thought, “you’re saying the mayor framed the water park owner?”
“Why not? He’s a good suspect, being blackmailed himself and all. But we need to get the cop’s alibi, to prove he didn’t do it. The mayor will probably try to frame him for Trixie’s murder! Time is of the essence, Calvin!”
Calvin rolled his eyes. “Have you shown the police these photos?”
“Yes,” Gertrude lied. “The police don’t care about a murdered stripper. It’s up to us to protect these women!”
“I don’t know,” Calvin said thoughtfully.
Oh goodie, he’s considering it. “Let’s just stick with her for a little while,” Gertrude said. “She won’t even know we’re there. Then, if she gets into real trouble, we’ll call the police.”
“No, Gertrude. I’m sorry. I’m drawing the line. If you think she’s in danger, call the police now. I’m old. I’m tired. I’m going home and going to bed.”
“Fine,” Gertrude said and started to get out of the car.
“Wait,” Calvin said.
Gertrude stopped and looked at him expectantly.
“I’m not going to just leave you in front of a bar at midnight. Let me take you home.”
“No,” she said and started to climb out again.
“If you don’t let me take you home, I will call the cops and tell them you’re mentally ill and you need help.”
Gertrude gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
“I will.”
Gertrude shut the door and slumped in her seat, defeated. “Fine. Take me home.”
Truth be told, she was exhausted too. And she was nearly asleep when Calvin pulled into the trailer park.
“Did you know your granddaughter was a stripper?” Gertrude asked. She couldn’t help herself.
“No, I most certainly did not,” he said, pulling into his driveway.
Gertrude thanked Calvin for his help and then headed toward her trailer. She considered revisiting Joel, but all the lights were off in trailer number nine. And she was just too tired. So she took a hot bath, made herself some tea, and then crawled into a bed full of cats. What a full day, she thought as they purred her to sleep.
9
Gertrude awoke with a start. With her gaggle of cats, she was used to noises in the night, but this one was different. This noise didn’t belong. She sat up and tried to peer into the darkness. As she quietly extracted herself from the bed, she heard a mighty crash followed quickly by what sounded like a female whimper. This emboldened her. She eased her bedroom door closed a few inches (that was all the give it had) and reached behi
nd it for one of her baseball bats. She’d been collecting them at yard sales for years, just for such an occasion as this. She wrapped her fingers around the first bat they touched and, pushing walker in front and dragging bat behind, she entered the narrow hallway that led toward the noise. When she entered the living room, she saw a flurry of motion and then heard her own front door shut. Assuming the intruder had left, she flipped on the light to confirm and proudly noted that a box of slinkies had slid off its perch and landed upside down in the path, apparently close enough to the criminal to cause a fright.
Gertrude picked up the slinkies and then surveyed the room to see if anything was missing. It didn’t appear there was. She gingerly approached the door, and then ripped it open to peer outside, but there was no longer anything to see. She shut, and locked, the door. Guess I’m going to have to start locking this, now that I’m fighting crime.
Gertrude went back to bed, but had some trouble falling back asleep. The prowler was probably looking for the photos. But who knows I have the photos? Just Calvin and Trixie. Calvin doesn’t want the photos, for sure. So it must have been Trixie. But why does she want them? Oh, of course! She’s going to take over the blackmailing! Why, that little vixen!
***
Gertrude bounced out of bed the next morning, nearly landing on Hail’s tail, and quickly got herself presentable enough to scoot over to Old Man Crow’s trailer. A little voice in her head whispered that he might not be happy to see her so early, so she made him some coffee and poured it into a travel mug she’d gotten at Goodwill. It said “Little River Casino Resort, Manistee, Michigan” on it. She thought he would like it. She grabbed a few of her many flavored cream cups—she thought he seemed like an Irish Cream kind of guy—and a few Splenda and sugar packets and headed out the door. It was difficult to walk like this, so she took her time, balancing the travel mug on top of the walker handle with her left hand, and wondering if she might be able to find a walker cup holder at a yard sale.
Eventually, she reached the trailer and rapped on his door. Of course, he didn’t answer. She shivered in the early morning chill and pounded again. “Let me in, Calvin! It’s cold out here.”
“It’s probably downright toasty back in your own trailer!” Calvin called.
She pounded again. “Let me in! I have exciting news! Some crook broke into my trailer last night!”
Calvin immediately opened the door. Was that actual concern she saw on his face? “Are you all right?”
“You betcha!” Gertrude said, shoving the coffee at his chest and pushing her way past him. “I brought you creamer and an assortment of sweeteners. Now drink up! We have work to do.” She was both amused and disappointed to see that Calvin was still in his housecoat.
Calvin rolled his eyes. But he did pick up two sugar packets. “So what happened with the intruder?”
“Nothing. She broke in, I’m guessing to steal the photos. But she didn’t get them, no siree, and I chased her out of the trailer with a bat.”
Calvin gave her a long look, apparently processing. Then he smirked, “You sure she wasn’t after your salt and pepper shaker collection?”
Gertrude frowned. “How do you know I collect salt and pepper shakers?”
Calvin shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone?” He took a sip of his coffee. “Mmmm, not bad, Gert.”
“Don’t call me Gert.”
“So you sure it was a she? You got a good look at her?”
“No, didn’t see her at all. But it had to have been Trixie. Who else could it have been?”
“You chased her out of the trailer with a bat, but you didn’t see her?”
“It was dark,” Gertrude sassed. “Besides, like I said, it was Trixie.”
“That’s a fair bit of conjecture, there, Gert.”
“I don’t know what that means. I said, don’t call me Gert. Go get dressed.”
“Why do I have to get dressed?”
“We have to go see Trixie!”
“We? Why do I have to go?”
Gertrude really just wanted his car, but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “I need you. You’re my partner.”
Calvin appeared to be thinking about it. “Fine. But only because I don’t have anything else to do.” He picked up his coffee and headed toward the bedroom. Gertrude watched his butt as he went. Then she picked up the unused cream cups and Splenda packets and dropped them into her walker pouch.
When Calvin returned with comb over in place and freshly pressed pants, Gertrude was standing beside his computer. “What?” he asked reflexively.
“Can we get where Trixie lives on this thing?”
Calvin guffawed. “I don’t think ‘Trixie’ is even Trixie’s real name.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know,” Calvin said, sitting down to dress his feet, “but if I were a stripper, I wouldn’t use my real name.”
“Oh horsefeathers!” Gertrude exclaimed. “How are we going to find out where she lives if we don’t even know her real name?”
“Maybe we just wait till she goes back to work?”
“No!” Gertrude cried, indignant. “The mayor could kill her by then!”
“OK,” Calvin said, scratching his chin, thinking.
“I know!” Gertrude said. “I bet they’ve got paperwork for their dancers at Private Eyes. Don’t people have to fill out forms when they work somewhere?”
“You mean a W-4?”
“OK.”
“And how are we going to get into Private Eyes to peruse their paperwork?” Calvin asked.
“The janitor will let me in. He’s a good friend of mine.”
“I think the politically correct term is custodian.”
“Political shmitical,” Gertrude said. “We don’t have time for that nonsense. You’d better grab a coat. It’s chilly out.”
“You don’t have one,” Calvin observed.
“I know. That’s why you’re going to stop at my place so I can get one.”
“Stop at your place? It’s a hundred yards away!”
“Do you know how hard it is for me to walk with my disability?”
“What exactly is your disability?” Calvin asked.
Gertrude stopped in front of the passenger door, waiting for him to open it. “That’s not a politically correct question.”
10
Gertrude didn’t have to pound on the door of the closed gentlemen’s club for nearly as long this morning. Andy opened it after only a few thumps. “Fantastic,” he said, heavy on the irony, and stepped aside to let Gertrude and her walker through.
“Finally! Someone’s happy to see me,” Gertrude said, entirely missing his sarcasm. “So, what do we know?”
Andy laughed. “You are turning into quite the gumshoe, aren’t you?”
Gertrude smiled. She liked the word gumshoe. It had a funny ring to it.
Andy continued, “So your friend …” He paused to light a cigarette, then took a drag and leaned back on the wall as he exhaled. “She the one they found out at the water park?”
“Yes,” Gertrude said, looking around, “and it wasn’t they. It was me. I found her at the water park.”
“Ah, I see. So what are you doing here now?”
“Looking for Trixie.”
Andy laughed again. “Trixie, huh? Did you check the water park?”
Gertrude’s head snapped around. “No, why? Do you think she’s there?”
Andy held up both hands. “No man, I’m just messing with you. I don’t know who or where Trixie is. I told you, I’m just the janitor.”
“Cambodian,” Gertrude tried to correct him.
“What?”
“The politically correct term is Cambodian.”
Andy just stared at her.
“So, have you found any clues as you’ve been cleaning up?”
“No, sorry. Just the usual.”
“What’s the usual?”
Andy grimaced. “You don’t want to know.”
“Fi
ne. Well, can you look the other way so I can go rummage through the office?”
He laughed again. “No!”
Gertrude reached into her walker pouch and found a crumpled dollar. She smoothed it out and handed it to him.
He took it gingerly. “What’s this supposed to be?”
“It’s a bribe, silly. See ya!” And she was off. But alas, Andy followed her all the way to the office.
“What are you looking for?”
She didn’t answer him at first. But then she saw what she was looking for. “Aha!” she said, grabbing the folder marked “W-4s.” “Just need some information about Trixie, like her home address.”
“Ah, I see. So you’re just going to walk up to this stripper’s place and pound on the door all by yourself?”
“I won’t be alone. I have Calvin.”
“Who’s Calvin?”
“My assistant.”
“You have an assistant? How much does that gig pay?”
“I’ll show myself out,” Gertrude said and headed for the door.
“Hey, you can’t just take the folder!”
“Watch me!” she said without turning around.
“No! What if someone sees it’s missing?”
Gertrude wheeled around. “No one is going to see that it’s missing. Look at all this junk! Total mess in here. If someone looks for it, which they won’t, but if they do, they will just assume it’s been misplaced. I’ll bring it back eventually. Sneak it right back in, easy peasy.”
“Something tells me nothing is easy with you,” Andy said as Gertrude headed to the door.
“That was quick,” Calvin said when Gertrude got in the car.
“I can be pretty speedy when I want to be.”
“Wow, I’m impressed! You actually found a W-4 folder,” he said, looking at Gertrude’s hands. “Is there a Trixie in there?”
She opened the folder and flipped through the pages. “Oh horsefeathers. No, no Trixie. But there aren’t that many employees. Let’s just go to each of their houses and knock on their doors. Trixie is bound to answer one of them.”
“Wouldn’t it be a lot easier to just check their social media profiles?” Calvin asked.
“Social media?”
Gertrude, Gumshoe Cozy Mystery Series Box Set: Books 1, 2, and 3 Page 5
