Calvin groaned. “Let’s go back to my place.”
***
Calvin typed each name into Facebook, and they were able to narrow their possibilities down to three names. Only three names didn’t have an adult face as a profile picture. So Trixie was either represented to the social media world by a chubby toddler, a double rainbow, or a gray tabby.
“Nice cat!” Gertrude exclaimed. “I hope that one’s Trixie.”
Calvin grunted getting up. “Well, let’s go find out. What’s the first address?”
Gertrude looked at the W-4. “First stop: 13 Cemetery Road.”
“Oh sure,” Calvin said, “that’s not foreboding at all.”
“Really?” Gertrude asked with complete seriousness. “I kind of thought it was.”
A few minutes later, Calvin pulled his Cadillac into a short dirt driveway. He put the car in park, and they both looked up at the neat white saltbox with green shutters.
“Quaint,” Gertrude said.
“Not what were you expecting?”
“Nope. Thought I’d find something a little more … seedy?”
“Well, sorry you’re disappointed,” Calvin said. “So, are we going to just sit here?”
“Nope, let’s go see if,” she looked down at the paper, “Ashley has a gray tabby.”
“We’re still looking for Trixie, right?” Calvin asked. “Not the cat?”
“We can do both,” Gertrude said.
Gertrude and Calvin approached the door shyly. “Wow, she even has a doorbell.” Gertrude pressed the button.
Nothing.
They waited a minute. “Should I ring again?” Gertrude asked.
“No, it’s possible no one is home. I think most people leave their house more often than we do.”
“Wish I had a card or something to leave,” Gertrude said.
“You mean like a business card?”
Gertrude started back to the car. “Yeah, like with my name and number.”
Calvin chuckled, but Gertrude didn’t know what was funny. “So what’s the next address?” Calvin asked as he climbed back into the car.
She didn’t answer for several seconds, as it was quite a process to wrestle her walker into the back seat and herself into the front. Finally, she managed, and she gave him a dirty look for not helping. He didn’t seem to notice. She opened the folder and answered, “Twelve Hope Ave.”
“OK. Where’s that?”
“No idea. We could stop and ask for directions?”
“Nah, it’s a small town. Let’s just find it.”
Twenty minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of an apartment building that had definitely seen better days.
“Uh-oh,” Calvin said.
“Afraid the roof’s going to fall in on us?” Gertrude asked.
“No, just wondering which apartment it is.”
Gertrude rechecked Jessica’s W-4, but there was no apartment number. “Guess we just start with number one?” Gertrude said.
Calvin groaned. “I really hope no one shoots me. I don’t want to die on Hope Avenue. That’s just too much irony for me.”
“Come on, ya big crybaby.” Gertrude slammed the car door and headed to the first apartment door. She knocked. The whole door shook.
A man in a sort-of white tank top answered the door. “Oh no,” he said.
“Andy!” Gertrude exclaimed. Then she looked at Calvin. “This is my Cambodian friend I was telling you about.”
Calvin, obviously confused, stared at Andy.
Andy, with his pale, freckled skin and bright red hair, stared back, equally confused. “What are you doing here?” Andy asked.
“I’m looking for Jessica. Does she live with you?”
“Apartment four,” he said and slammed the door.
“Friendly lad,” Calvin said.
The two began to climb the stairs to apartment four. Gertrude went first and her walker slowed them down significantly.
“Give me that thing,” Calvin grumbled.
“No.”
“Yes. I will leave it right here behind us, and you can use the railings to lean on.”
“Don’t be foolish. These railings would give way with one good sneeze. Just hold your horses.” And up they went. Finally, with Gertrude out of breath and Calvin out of patience, they reached their destination and Gertrude knocked.
A woman with a familiar-looking chubby toddler on her hip answered the door. “Yeah?”
“Are you Jessica?”
“Yeah?”
“OK thanks,” Gertrude said and turned to go.
Calvin caught her by the arm. “Wait,” he said. Then he looked at Jessica. “Did you know Lori Hicks?”
Jessica took her hand off the doorknob and protectively brought it to the toddler’s back. “Yeah.”
“Well, this here is Gertrude, and I’m Calvin, and well, Lori was a friend of Gertrude’s, and we’re just trying to figure out what happened to her. Might you have time to answer a few questions?”
Jessica nodded. “Come on in.” She turned from the door and walked into a living room strewn with toys. Gertrude gave Calvin an incredulous look; he just smirked. Jessica lowered her son into a playpen. He immediately protested. She pulled a sippy cup out from between two couch cushions. “Have a seat,” she said and sat in a lopsided glider that faced the couch.
“Thank you,” Calvin said, and sat. Gertrude followed his lead.
“So, I’m not sure what help I can be. I didn’t know her well. She was new.”
“Did you know she was blackmailing folks?” Gertrude blurted out. Calvin elbowed her in the ribs. “Ow! What was that for?”
Jessica kept glancing back and forth between them, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “Well, uh, no, I hadn’t heard that. But I guess it doesn’t really shock me.”
“Why’s that?” Calvin asked.
“I don’t know. I guess she just kind of rubbed me the wrong way. She never really tried to be friendly with the rest of the girls, kind of acted like she was better than us, which is kind of ridiculous. If you’re serving shots of Black Velvet while wearing black velvet pasties, you are not better than me.”
Calvin’s face turned varying shades of red.
“Was she friendly with Trixie?” Gertrude asked.
Jessica thought for a second. “Not that I know of.”
“Is Trixie’s real name Shannon or Abby?” Gertrude asked. (Double rainbow or gray tabby.)
Jessica hesitated. “Are you guys like some kind of elderly creepers?”
“Don’t be foolish,” Gertrude said. “I’m not elderly.”
Calvin rolled his eyes. “No, we are not creepers. We would just like to talk to Trixie too.”
Jessica still hesitated. “Well, it’s sort of a code, you know, that we don’t give out personal information about each other?”
“Look,” Gertrude barked. She grabbed for her walker and pulled herself up. “We have reason to believe that Trixie was also blackmailing people, and we think that whoever killed Lori might also kill Trixie. We want to warn her. But if you don’t want to help …” she headed toward the door.
“Wait. OK. But I really don’t think Trixie would blackmail anyone. Are you sure she’s involved?”
Calvin and Gertrude spoke at the same exact time: “No” and “Absolutely,” respectively.
Again, Jessica’s eyes darted back and forth from one face to the other.
“What makes you think Trixie wasn’t involved in the blackmailing?” Calvin asked softly, and, Gertrude noted, grandfatherly.
“Well, she’s just not that …”
“Evil?” Gertrude guessed.
“Smart,” Jessica said.
“Ah, OK then,” Calvin said and headed toward the door. “We may be wrong. Thank you so much for your time.”
They were almost to the door when Jessica said, “Her real name is Abby. And if she is involved in this blackmail scheme, I’d be willing to bet she’s just f
ollowing Lori’s lead.”
Calvin turned back and smiled. “Thank you, Jessica. We appreciate your help. You and your little one have a nice day.”
Gertrude thought her head might explode, but she waited until they were back in the car and backing out of the driveway before she spoke. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“I have never heard you be that nice to anyone—ever. I didn’t even know it was possible for you to be that nice!”
“Have you ever heard the saying ‘you get more flies with honey than you do with vinegar’?”
“No one says that. Flies love vinegar.”
“Fine. Whatever. My point is that your bulldozer approach wasn’t working, so I thought I’d try kindness. Now, where does Miss Abby live?”
Gertrude took the folder off the dashboard and flipped through the W-4s. “27A Poplar Street.”
“OK,” Calvin said, making a left turn. Calvin knew the way to Poplar and soon pulled up in front of an old house turned duplex.
“Here we go,” Gertrude said and grunted as she pulled herself out of the car. Her legs were getting mighty tired, but she wasn’t going to admit it.
She knocked on the door. No one answered.
“There’s no car in the drive,” Calvin said.
“I can see that,” Gertrude snapped. “Should we walk around and peek in the windows? See what we can see?”
“Absolutely not! She has neighbors. You really want the cops to show up and ask why we’re playing peeping tom at a stripper’s house?”
“Fine. Then what do you suggest?” Gertrude said, really wishing she could find a better partner.
“How about some lunch?”
“Not the Honor House again?”
“Let’s do Thai food instead. My treat.”
Gertrude looked at him suspiciously. “Why?”
“Haven’t you heard the saying ‘don’t look a gift horse in the mouth’?”
“No one says that. What in tarnation is a gift horse?”
Calvin sighed and climbed back into his car.
A few minutes later, they were seated inside a Thai restaurant and Gertrude was trying to make sense of the menu. She looked up in a panic. “They serve lard here?”
“What?”
“It costs ten bucks for a plate of lard! That’s gross!”
Calvin squinted at his menu. Then he whispered, “That’s larb.”
“Oh,” she whispered back. “What’s larb?”
“I don’t know, but it’s not pig fat. Just order something you recognize.”
“I don’t recognize any of this!”
The server approached. “Are you ready to order?” she said with a smile.
Calvin gave Gertrude a questioning look. Even though she wasn’t ready to order, she nodded, thinking I do better under pressure. When it was her turn she said, “I’ll have the spicy crispy duck, please.”
“Yes, ma’am, how many stars would you like?”
“How many what?”
“Stars?” the server repeated.
“I dunno. How many are there?”
“No wait,” Calvin tried, but Gertrude shushed him.
“I can order my own food, Calvin! Just because I don’t speak Thai doesn’t mean I can’t order my own food!” Then, satisfied, she repeated her question, “How many stars are there?”
“Five,” the server said, suddenly looking a little nervous.
“Then I’ll have five, thank you very much,” Gertrude said and snapped the menu shut for emphasis.
“And, uh, could we get an extra pitcher of water for the table?” Calvin asked with a smile.
The server nodded and scurried off.
“There it is again,” Gertrude said.
“There what is?”
“Your fake nice voice. We’ll have to come up with a name for it.”
“It’s called tact, Gertrude.”
“No, that’s not a catchy name. I’m going to call it your grampa voice.”
11
“I’m dying,” Gertrude said.
“I tried to stop you,” Calvin said.
“You did not. What am I going to do? There’s got to be a way to make the burning stop.”
“Yeah—don’t eat fire.”
“I had to eat it, just to prove to you I could!” Gertrude reclined the seat with a thump.
“Easy! Do you know how much this car cost?” He pulled into a lot and Gertrude sat up enough so she could see where they were.
“What are we doing here?” she asked.
“Sit tight. I’m going to get you some Pepto.”
Calvin was back in a few minutes with a bottle of pink magic. Gertrude frantically peeled the plastic off, opened the cap, and tipped her back. “Easy!” Calvin exclaimed. “I’m not sure it’s possible to overdose on Pepto, but I really don’t want to be the one who has to deal with you if you do.”
She slugged half the bottle, and then let out an unladylike belch. “Excuse me,” she said, and screwed the cap back on.
“Better?” he asked.
“Not sure yet.”
“Do we need to get you home?”
“Nope. I’m OK.”
“All right. So where to next?”
“I don’t know. Private Eyes eventually, but they’re not open yet. I want to find Trixie-Abby, but I have no idea where to look.”
“How about we go get you a cell phone?” Calvin said.
“Why?”
“Why? Because everyone else has one.”
“You don’t,” Gertrude pointed out.
“I know, but you said you wanted to leave your card. Don’t you want a cell phone number to put on that card?”
“Oh, good point.”
“Plus, then we’d have a GPS so we don’t have to spend so much time driving around in circles.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “That’s why you want me to get a cellular phone. You know, they make a thing called maps. And those are cheaper. Free even if we go get the ones at my house. I have an atlas for every state except Connecticut.”
“Why Connecticut?”
“What do you mean?” Gertrude asked.
“I mean, you have an atlas for Hawaii and Alaska and not Connecticut? Is there a reason?”
“Why on earth would I ever go to Connecticut?” she said. Wasn’t that reason enough? “Besides I can’t afford a cellular phone. Don’t be foolish.”
“I’m pretty sure you can get one for no money down. You just need to sign a contract.”
Gertrude narrowed her eyes. “A contract, huh? And just how much does that cost?”
Calvin sighed. “How about we just go look? We’ve got to kill some time.”
“Fine.”
When Calvin pulled into the parking lot of AmeriCell, Gertrude had to admit: she was excited. It had never occurred to her that she needed a cell phone, but now that she was here, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t leave without one. Or three.
They entered the store, and a person who hadn’t been blessed with a personality put Gertrude’s name on a list. “Someone will be right with you,” he said, without making eye contact.
Gertrude wandered toward a shiny display of tablets.
“No,” Calvin said firmly. “Over here.”
Gertrude followed him to a display of smart phones. “These only cost a penny?” she asked, her eyes growing wide.
“Like I said—contract. They’re a penny today, real money tomorrow.”
Gertrude handled every single phone in the room and then moved on to accessories. Calvin looked at his watch. “I know we needed to kill time, but this is ridiculous. Maybe we should go to a different carrier. Apparently these people don’t care about customer service.”
As if on cue, a young woman with blue hair approached them. “Good afternoon! How can I help you today?”
“Why is your hair blue?” Calvin asked. “Doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence in your professionalism.”
The girl’s face p
uckered, and she struggled to keep her voice even as she asked, “Would you like me to get someone else to help you?”
“No,” Gertrude said quickly. “We don’t want to get back on the list. Calvin here might die of old age before the next salesgirl comes along.”
Calvin gave Gertrude a dirty look but said only, “She needs a phone.”
“OK then,” the blue-haired girl said. “My name is Zandra and I would be happy to help you.”
“Zandra?” Calvin asked, appalled.
Zandra ignored him. “Are you a current customer of AmeriCell?” she asked Gertrude.
“No,” Gertrude said. “I’ve never had a cellular telephone before.”
The girl smirked. “OK then. Would you like a smartphone or would you like to start with something more basic?”
“I want the smartest phone you have,” Gertrude said.
“OK, then, that would be this one.” She walked over to the newest iPhone, which sported a hefty price tag.
“Maybe not that smart,” Gertrude said.
The girl looked up, her hand still doing a Vanna White toward the iPhone.
“How about your smartest phone that only costs a penny?”
The girl gave a disappointed nod and walked toward the Samsungs. “Here you go,” she said.
“I’ll take it,” Gertrude said.
“Not so fast,” Calvin spoke up. “What’s the catch?”
“What do you mean?” Zandra asked.
“I mean, what are the terms of the contract?” he said condescendingly.
“What happened to your grampa voice?” Gertrude muttered.
“I’m trying to protect you,” he muttered back.
Gertrude looked up at him in surprise. She felt a little flutter in her belly. She didn’t think anyone had ever tried to protect her before.
“Well, it’s a standard two-year contract,” Zandra said. “If you’d like to have a seat, I can go over your options.”
The chairs were absurdly tall. “These aren’t chairs. They’re bar stools,” Calvin said.
Zandra ignored him and fiddled with her mouse. “So,” she said, unfolding a pamphlet in front of them both, “here are your options. You choose how many minutes, how many texts, and how much data you’ll need …”
Several minutes and a few signatures later, an annoyed Calvin and an excited Gertrude left the AmeriCell store with a shiny new toy. Zandra had offered to teach Gertrude how to use the Android, but Calvin had insisted he would teach her.
Gertrude, Gumshoe Cozy Mystery Series Box Set: Books 1, 2, and 3 Page 6
