“Oh gee. How about that!” said Daisy. “Better get a move on or we’ll miss the beginning. Spellbound, a classic. Great to see you. You’re still coming to dinner Sunday, aren’t you?”
“Certainly. Until then,” said Peter with a bewildered look on his face.
Daisy pulled away from the curb and Rose moaned, “Good God Almighty! I cannot believe you did that. This is too embarrassing.”
“I don’t know. I think that umbrella business was pretty good. I’m sure he bought it.”
“You bet. We just happen to be sitting across from his house with our heads in our laps while Mother’s looking for a naked man and I feel a thunderstorm coming on. Yes, I’m sure he thinks we’re perfectly normal.”
Angela chirped, “Who is this Peter Fleming?”
Daisy said, “He bought the Book Renew and he and Rose have been exchanging insults for the last couple of days.”
“Wonderful. He has very nice eyes, Rose. And his home is lovely.”
Sunday evening the weather let up a bit and it was a balmy eighty-five degrees when the party got together for cocktails. In addition to Brad, Abby, Mrs. Hudson, and Angela, the sisters invited Marc Proctor, Daisy’s mostly off-again boyfriend, and their neighbor, Ron Tucker.
At six-thirty Peter Fleming came around the side of the house carrying a bouquet of freesia and roses. Rose took the flowers and smiled, “These are gorgeous. Thank you so much. Have a drink while I put these in a vase.”
Daisy made the introductions. Then she handed him a tall glass of golden liquid with a little palm tree sticking out of it and said, “Pearl Harbor?”
“Pearl Harbor?” he asked a bit doubtfully.
“Just a little cocktail to get you bombed!” Peter looked slightly startled and Daisy said, “That’s a joke.”
“Ah. Yes, a drink would be fine. How was the film?”
“Oh, you know. Gregory Peck. Ingrid Bergman. What more do you need?”
“Indeed. But I think I prefer the chemistry in Indiscreet with Cary Grant and Ingrid.”
“Well, if we’re going to compare the merits of Cary Grant and Gregory Peck – we should have a debate on all of Ingrid’s leading men.”
Peter lifted his glass and lisped, “Yesh, we should shweetheart.”
Daisy laughed and said, “What a great Bogart! You’re very talented.” Peter blushed and said, “I taught a classic film class one semester. How did you and Rose come to be so interested in old films?”
“We didn’t have much choice. Mother loves them and dragged us to every theatre that ran them. Now we go willingly.”
As the evening moved on and Peter had another drink or two, he loosened up considerably. Rose couldn’t believe it when he just patted Malcolm’s head and muttered, “He’s an excitable little fellow, isn’t he?” when the dumb chum greeted him with an enthusiastic leg-humping.
She smiled at the two of them and decided to apologize for the sugar incident. She was just starting to say something when Peter said, “Rose, I’m so sorry about the other morning. I admit I can be a bit stuffy at times.”
“Can’t we all! I’m sorry, too.”
“Perhaps we could have dinner one evening and start over again.”
“I’d like that.”
Brad walked over and started talking about business. Conversation lulled a bit and Peter asked how he had come to have Mantle’s rookie card.
“My dad got the card Mantle’s first season in the bigs and then got him to sign it in 1953 when the Yanks came to town to play the old Senators in Griffith Stadium. It was my Dad’s birthday and he asked Mantle to hit a home run for him. And he did! That was the day The Mick hit that tape measure homerun off Chuck Stobbs. Five hundred and sixty-five feet! Dad even kept his ticket stub and score card, so we keep them all together. It’s kind of a family heirloom now.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, have you had it valued?”
“Sure. Quite a few times. There’s a really big show on the Outer Banks that I take it to every year to see if a serious buyer shows up. I don’t know why really. I’d never sell it.”
Abby took Brad’s arm and said, “Of course you wouldn’t. But it never hurts to know exactly what it’s worth!”
Daisy was bringing out the dessert, a pear tart Angela had made that afternoon, when Mrs. Hudson said, “I have to run home for a minute. I have a letter for you.”
She was back a couple of minutes later with a bill from one of their suppliers. “Here. This was delivered to me yesterday. It looks important.”
Rose took the letter and said, “Thanks, Sarah. This is really getting nuts!”
“You haven’t gotten any of my mail by any chance, have you? I was expecting something last week and it hasn’t come.”
“Sorry, no. If somebody else gets it, I’m sure they’ll bring it to you.”
“You’re probably right. This tart looks wonderful!”
“Yoo hoo, anyone home?” called Daisy as she poked her head in the ‘Private Entrance’ door of the Tavern on Monday morning. They waited a minute and finally heard someone moving around in the kitchen.
She called a little louder. “Mattie, it’s Daisy. You decent?”
A short, energetic woman came slowly out of the back of the restaurant. She looked hot as she brushed her short dark hair away from her face.
“Oh, Daisy. Rose. Hi. I was just cleaning the kitchen. It can get out of hand really quickly if I don’t stay on top of it. But it’s not my favorite job.”
“Have you thought about hiring someone?” asked Rose.
“We had someone, but I had to let her go. We just don’t have the money right now, unfortunately. Did you need something? Oh my God! Look at that!”
She had been looking out the open door and Daisy and Rose turned to see a man in a John Deere baseball cap, red tee shirt and black shorts running down the street toward them.
“That man’s tallawacky is hanging out of his pants! What is wrong with people? I’m calling the police.”
Just as she pulled out her cell phone the ‘bobber’ turned abruptly and started running toward the hiking trail.
Daisy ran outside and shouted, “Put that thing away, you moron. You’ve ruined my appetite!
“What a jerk. Tom Willis has been trying to catch the guy for weeks now. I guess you could call in another sighting, but they won’t catch him now. Mother was right, though.”
Mattie asked as she put her phone away, “About what?”
“She said he didn’t have much to show off.”
They all started laughing. But suddenly Mattie put her hands to her face and started to sob.
“Mattie, what’s going on? Come on, I’ll get some coffee and we’ll sit down and figure it out.”
Rose led Mattie into the dining room as Daisy went into the kitchen and poured coffee into three mugs. She brought them to a booth where Rose was holding Mattie’s hand and waiting for her to calm down.
“I can’t talk about it. I know you want to help, but you can’t.”
Rose took the money and note out of her bag and put it on the table. “Does it have anything to do with this?”
Mattie looked at the money and gasped. She pulled back from Rose and said, “You! You and Daisy? How could you? All these years we’ve been friends and…why would you do this to me?”
Daisy looked puzzled for a moment and then said, “Oh my God, Mattie. Not us. We just want to help you. We knew you must be in some kind of trouble.”
Mattie shook her head. “I can’t believe this is happening. I know people always say that, but I really can’t. I’m so ashamed and embarrassed. Poor Frank doesn’t know anything about it and I just can’t tell him. How did you get this?”
“Just luck, really. You know how Peggy over at the post office has been getting everything mixed up lately. She put this in our box. And Rose recognized your handwriting.”
“But I never sent anything to an address in Old Towne. The letter always says to mail it to Occupant at a suite number in Vien
na, Maryland.”
Rose said, “A suite number? So not the post office.”
Mattie said, “No. Not the post office, but I don’t know where it went. Or how it got here? I don’t understand this.”
“Look,” Daisy took the envelope out and put it on the table. “It’s been forwarded to Box 768 in Old Towne. I didn’t even look at the label. I just opened it automatically.”
Rose said, “Mattie, what’s going on? Begin at the beginning. Maybe we can help.”
“Oh God, I should never have let it get this far. I don’t know how anyone can help.”
Mattie held her head in her hands and sighed. “I’m being blackmailed.”
Rose said, “I was afraid it was something like that. But I can’t imagine you doing anything blackmail worthy.”
Mattie sniffled and wiped her nose with a tissue. “It goes back to when I was sixteen. I was a real mess. The whole teenage angst thing, hated my parents, all the usual stuff. I met this man. He was older, twenty-five, and I was flattered that he’d be interested in me. He was everything my parents hated–and rightly so - which I found out the hard way.
“He talked me into eloping with him. For our romantic honeymoon he took me to a little town with a nice bank which he robbed while I waited in the car. We were both caught.”
She got up and stared out the window. “My parents got me a decent lawyer and I ended up serving six months in a halfway house. The judge ruled that my record would be expunged when I was twenty-one assuming I behaved myself. My parents let me come back home afterward and I got an annulment.
“That’s it. It was so long ago and I never told anyone. Not even Frank. We met at college and fell in love. That part of my life was over. I just wanted to pretend it never happened.
“Then about five years ago I got a letter in the mail asking for twenty-five dollars. It wasn’t signed, so I just threw it out. The next week I got another one. This time it said ‘I know about Wayne.’ That was his name. ‘Leave $25 in a brown paper bag in the grey trash bin at the farmers market on Saturday morning.’
“It was stupid. I shouldn’t have agreed. I know I should have told Frank then, but it was only a couple of dollars. So I left it at the farmers market.”
“And I guess that wasn’t the end of it, was it?” asked Daisy.
“No. They never asked for much money. Never more than fifty. And not very often.”
“Did you ever try to see who picked up the bag?”
“Sure, but I could never spot them. The drop-off was always some place really crowded like the farmers market. So I just gave up trying and paid.”
She stopped talking and got up from the table. She walked to the window and stared at the quiet street.
“But then about two years ago the letters changed. They were nasty and threatening. I was to send the money to this address in Vienna Maryland. And they were demanding a lot more money.
“It’s been so hard trying to hide this from Frank. I can’t do it anymore. We’re struggling to keep the restaurant open and he doesn’t understand why. I keep the books and tell him all these lies about overhead and insurance and God knows what else. It’s killing me.
“So I just told this person I’m through. I can’t do anymore. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
Rose looked thoughtful. “Well, first you’re going to put this money back in the cash register. If you’re going to stop paying this bastard you might as well stop now. Then, we’ll try to figure out a way to catch this guy. It must be whoever rents Box 768. We just have to find out who that is.”
“How? And then what? Go to the police?” asked Daisy.
“I don’t know. But Mattie, I think you need to talk to Frank.”
“I know. But could we keep the police out of it someway? It’s so embarrassing. I’m not sure people would understand. Not only the stupid stuff I did when I was sixteen, but about paying the blackmail. I feel like an idiot.”
“Okay, not the police. Not yet.” Rose thought a moment. “Mattie, just sit tight. But talk to Frank. Daisy and I will try to figure something out.”
Daisy said, “You could try to buy some time. Maybe you should re-send the letter and tell them you can’t come up with the money right now. Ask if they’ll wait for it? Something like that.”
Rose took Mattie’s hand and said, “That’s a good idea. And if somehow we can figure out who’s doing this, maybe we can make a deal. Sort of blackmail them back to keep them quiet.
Daisy said, “We’d better get a move on. Mattie, just talk to Frank and we’ll talk later.”
Chapter Five
Daisy said, “You know good and well Mattie has to go to the police. We can’t let a blackmailer off.”
“I know that, but I think Mattie needs a little time to figure that out for herself. And if we can find the person who’s doing this, maybe we could figure someway to turn him in without Mattie being involved.
“And we need to talk to Sally Henderson. I think she might be another victim.”
“Well, first things first. How can we find out who owns box 768?” asked Daisy.
“I don’t think asking Peggy would do any good. Even if she were a nice person who might be inclined to help, she couldn’t tell us that. She could get fired. But it doesn’t really matter because she’s not a nice person.”
“We could stake out the box in Vienna.”
“That wouldn’t work. For one thing, it’s two hours away from here. And secondly, the mail’s being forwarded from there. The blackmailer probably never even goes near it. We could stake out our post office, but that could take forever and if the blackmailer has any sense at all, he wouldn’t take anything out of the box when we were there. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen anyone use that box.”
Daisy’s eyes lit up. “There is one way we could find out.”
Rose squinted her eyes. “No, we couldn’t, Daisy. That’s federal property. We are not breaking into the post office.”
“You’re no fun.” She thought for a minute. “We wouldn’t have to break in. All we need to do is catch Peggy as she’s opening up and distract her. You could keep her outside and I could sneak in and look through the book.”
Rose said, “What book? Everything’s on the computer, isn’t it? We’d need her password and enough time to find the information.”
“Nope. She’s old-school. I know for a fact that she still keeps all the post office box information in a three ring binder. She used it when I went in to pay our bill last time.”
“Well, that’s something. What sort of distraction do think would work?”
As they were talking Roscoe bounded up the back stairs with Malcolm on his tail. He leapt onto the top of the bookcase and Malcolm set up as a sentry in front of it, barking out little doggie orders and shaking his paw at the cat.
They both looked at the dog and said, “Malcolm.”
“Either Peggy likes dogs and plays with him or she hates dogs and Malcolm does his usual thing and really pisses her off,” said Rose. “I’m betting on hating. She hates everyone else. Why would dogs be different?”
“Okay, we’ll walk Malcolm over tomorrow morning at six thirty and wait. As soon as Peggy unlocks the door, but before she gets it open, you set Malcolm on her. I’ll be lurking at the side and I’ll slip in when she turns away. The timing has to be perfect. What do you think? I think it will work.”
“I think if it doesn’t work at least it will just be embarrassing, not criminal.”
Early the next morning they waited. At five to seven Peggy still hadn’t shown up.
“I knew something would screw this up,” murmured Rose to a bush.
Daisy popped up and smacked her forehead and whispered, “I’ll bet she uses the back door and is in there now. How stupid am I? Now what do we do?”
Rose shook her head. “I don’t think she’s here. I’d have heard something.” She tried the door. “And she hasn’t unlocked the door yet. She always opens at seven. Check around
back and see if her car’s there.”
Daisy walked down the narrow alley on the far side of the building that led to the parking lot. Rose waited with Malcolm on the sidewalk. Then Daisy let out a scream.
Rose swore under her breath, “Great googlie-mooglie, Daisy. Be quiet. You’ll attract the whole neighborhood.”
She and Malcolm walked around the building. Daisy was standing there looking at a heap of dark blue clothes lying on the back doorstep of the post office.
“Oh my God,” said Rose. Malcolm started whimpering. “It’s Peggy, isn’t it?”
Daisy nodded and bent down to check for a pulse. “She’s dead. She’s cold.”
“I’ll call 911.”
“Why us?” Rose moaned. They were sitting on a bench in front of the post office while Tom Willis sealed off the building and parking lot. Emergency vehicles were pulling up. A crowd was growing across the street.
Daisy shrugged dejectedly. “Beats me. I feel like I’m wearing a ‘Dead Bodies R Us’ tee shirt. Need a dead body? We’ll find you one. I mean, really, most people never find one dead body in their entire lives. We seem to attract them. And poor Malcolm. Look at him. It’s not a pleasant thing for a little dog.”
Malcolm was lying with his head on Daisy’s feet staring blankly into space.
“It’s not my idea of a good time either. And don’t look now, but the good time just got worse.”
Daisy looked down at the curb to see tall, incredibly handsome man getting out of an unmarked car and walking toward them. “Of course, it did. Thank God I took the time to put on make-up.”
He nodded at Rose and said, “Daisy. We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
“For once we agree on something. I’d be ecstatic if we could stop meeting at all, ever.”
Bill Greene, Daisy’s rat-bastard, cheating, ex-husband, turned to Tom Willis and said, “What have we got here?”
“The woman who runs this place is lying near the door in the back. First glance, looks like blunt force trauma to the back of the head.”
“All right. We need some crowd control and we’ll have to block off the street.”
Bill looked across the street and asked Rose, “Who’s that?”
Roses are Dead My Love Page 4
