by Jeff Shelby
“I don’t see why not,” I said.
“I want to play air hockey,” Will said. “I have a tournament starting in”—he glanced at his phone —“twenty minutes. Anyone want to play a quick game?”
“A tournament?” I asked.
“CS-Go.”
Sophie grabbed another handful of fries from the tray on the table. “Is that the game where you kill people?”
He grinned. “Yep.”
“I don’t know if I want you playing that,” I told him, frowning. I wasn’t a big fan of shooting games.
“Not this again,” he muttered. Then, louder, he said, “It’s good guys and terrorists, Mom. We don’t just kill random people. There’s strategy involved, and teamwork. That should count for something, right?”
“He has a good point,” Jake said to me. He was finishing a bottle of Pacifico and I knew he’d be getting up soon to grab another from the fridge.
I sighed. “Fine. But make sure you’re a good guy.”
“Sure,” Will said. “I will destroy all the terrorists.”
“I want to destroy terrorists,” Grace said. She looked at her brother. “Can I kill some?”
“No, you’ll ruin my ranking.” He stood up. “But you can try to destroy me in air hockey.”
They both took off toward the garage-turned-game-room and Sophie followed suit. “I call winner!”
I pushed my plate away from me. There was still a half of a burger left but I was stuffed. Or maybe I was just too busy thinking about things to concentrate on eating.
Jake eyed my burger. “You gonna finish that?”
I shook my head and waved a hand at it. “It’s all yours.”
He reached for the burger. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”
“What do you think?”
He bit into the burger eagerly, then swallowed the bite. “Gloria. Agnes. And Irv.”
“Bingo.”
“What do you want to do about it?” He knew me well. He didn’t try to tell me to stop thinking about it, because he knew that would be like asking me to try not to breathe.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’d like to get Gloria’s take on the Facebook stuff. Surely she has to know about it, right? And even though she’s…seeing Irv, if he was the one who killed Agnes, I would think she would want to know because that would help clear her name.”
“Why don’t you go talk to her?” Jake suggested. He’d finished my burger and drained the rest of his beer.
“Because I should clean up dinner,” I said. “And hang out with you guys.”
He stood up. “Going to talk to her won’t take all night. And I’ll clean up dinner.”
“You don’t have to—”
He cut me off. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.” He opened the fridge and pulled out another beer.
“I don’t know…”
He smiled. “Go. Before I change my mind and decide I don’t want you to know how domestic I can actually be.”
TWENTY SEVEN
I went to see Gloria.
“Daisy!” she said, a hand to her chest. “What a lovely surprise.” She looked past me. “Where's everyone else?”
“They’re at the house,” I said. “It's just me. Do you have a minute?”
“Of course.” She stepped out of the doorway and made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “Come in.”
Her bare feet slapped softly against the tile as she led me into the living room. Grandma Billie was parked there in her wheelchair, hunched over and gnawing on an apple.
She held up a hand in greeting. “Evening, Daisy.”
“Hello, Billie,” I said, not bothering to try to hide my surprise. “I didn't know you were here. I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Gloria invited me over for a terrible dinner,” she said. “Hence, the apple. She hasn't taken me back yet.”
“Dinner was fine,” Gloria said patiently. She gestured for me to take a seat on the orange-cushioned sofa. “You ate everything on your plate, remember?”
Grandma Billie made a face and went back to work on the apple.
Gloria sat across from me in a matching chair. She placed her hands flat on her thighs. “I haven't had a chance to apologize for the other day. For what happened with Vivian.”
Billie snorted.
“You don't owe me an apology,” I said, easing on to the sofa.
“Oh, I think I do. It was an embarrassing episode and it never should've happened. I'm very sorry you had to see me like that.”
“I've already forgotten it,” I lied.
Billie snorted again. “You're the only one then.”
Gloria glanced at her mother, annoyed, then smiled at me. “So. Any news about Don and Mary Kay? I tried their cell phone a couple of times but couldn’t get through.”
I shook my head. “No, we’re still waiting to hear, as well.”
“Are they not going to be here for my birthday?” Billie growled. Her mouth puckered up into something that looked like a scowl. “I thought they were coming.”
“They are,” I said quickly. “They’re trying to. There was a slight problem with their ship—”
Her scowl deepened. “Their ship? They own a ship now? Why doesn’t anyone tell me anything?”
“No, Mother,” Gloria said. “They were on a ship. A cruise, as a matter of fact. To the Panama Canal.”
“The Panama Canal? Why would they want to go visit that communist country?”
“Panama is not a communist country.” I had to hand it to Gloria. For as much as she tended to lose her temper with other people, she was remarkably patient most of the time with her own mother. “You’re thinking of Cuba.”
“No, I’m not,” Billie groused. “Don’t tell me what I’m thinking about.” She gnawed at the apple some more.
Gloria forced a smile in my direction. “I hope everything is okay and that they were able to find a flight.”
I smiled back. “Me, too.”
“So, everything with the house is good?” Gloria asked. “Visits to the park have been good?”
I nodded. She clearly thought I was there to make small talk and visit.
“I was actually hoping to ask you a few questions about…well, about Agnes.”
Her face clouded.
“But maybe now isn’t a good time,” I said, nodding my head in Billie’s direction.
“No, no, it’s fine.” Gloria shifted in her chair, refolding her hands in her lap. “If you have questions, I want to answer them. With all of the investigative work you’ve done on other cases, maybe you’ll see something the detective isn’t seeing. I've heard about all of the things you've done in Minnesota. Something that will prove I’m innocent in all of this.”
It was the exact opening I needed.
I stole a quick glance at Grandma Billie. She was inspecting the apple for some reason, holding it within an inch of her nose. “I…I was hoping to ask you a couple of questions about Irv.”
Billie choked, and Gloria jumped out of her chair. She spit a piece of apple out of her mouth and into a napkin that lay over her lap.
Gloria resettled herself. “Irv? What about him?”
I wasn't exactly sure of the approach to take with her. “I know that the two of you are...friends.”
Billie let out a little snort. “Is that what you kids are calling it these days? In my day we called it—”
“Mother,” Gloria warned.
Billie pretended as though she didn’t hear her, but she stayed quiet.
Gloria ran a hand through her hair. She started to say something, then stopped. Then she let out a long, loud sigh.
“Let's be honest, Daisy,” she said. “I'm sleeping with Irv and we all know it. He told me he ran into you when he was leaving here. I don't want there to be any secrets between us, so let's not pretend it's anything other than what it is.”
I appreciated her honesty. I’d picked up on the fact that there might be something between them that first
day, and Billie had confirmed that for us during the night of the concert, before Gloria had attacked Vivian. Jake and I had even heard it directly from the horse’s – Irv’s – mouth. But I was glad that she didn’t pussyfoot around or try to deny or downplay their relationship. It still creeped me out a little, thinking of them together, but that was my own issue to deal with
I forged on. “Did he have a relationship with Agnes?”
Billie cackled again. “Oh, my. Wait till you hear—”
“Mother!” Gloria gritted her teeth. “If you don't close your mouth, I'm gonna wheel you out back and leave you there.”
Billie frowned, but didn't say anything.
Gloria refocused on me. “Did he have a relationship with Agnes? I'm not sure if that's what you'd call it. He knew her, yes.”
A warning bell went off. Gloria had just come clean about the nature of her relationship with Irv. Why was she unwilling to admit that he had also been involved with Agnes?
I tried again. “Did he know her...intimately?”
“I'm not sure what you're asking,” Gloria said. She wrung her hands.
“She wants to know if they had sex!” Billie said. “Come on!”
Gloria's face colored.
Mine did, too. “I guess that, yes, technically, that's what I'm asking,” I said.
Gloria took a deep breath. “I wouldn't say they had a relationship, no. I think it was more of a...casual thing.”
“Casual,” I repeated.
“It wasn't anything that was...firm,” Gloria said.
“Gloria,” Billie snapped. “Stop beating around the bush. This woman wants to help you, not put you behind bars. Which is more than I can say for that other clown who keeps showing up around here.”
I could almost feel the heat from Gloria's face.
I waited.
Gloria looked at me. “She and Irv were together, yes.”
“What happened?”
Gloria opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“What happened was that Irv started doing the hanky panky with Gloria and Agnes found out,” Billie said. She gnawed her apple some more. “There. Now you have the story.”
We all sat there in silence for a long few seconds, maybe the longest of my life.
Gloria cleared her throat. “My relationship with Irv started before his relationship with Agnes ended. My mother is correct. So that is what happened. Agnes found out and…well, she was not happy, as you can imagine.”
There was more silence. So maybe that was the reason why she’d been hesitant to acknowledge Irv’s relationship with Agnes. Because she had played a role in ending it.
“It was embarrassing and...just not a great thing to have done. I am not proud of it. And either was Irv.”
“Irv has no pride, period,” Billie muttered. “Just one big horndog with bad hair.”
“Then I assume you were aware of the things she said about him on Facebook?”
Gloria hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. I saw them. They were very hurtful. And unnecessary. And untrue, I might add, too.”
“Facebook?” Billie said, sitting up in her chair. “Isn’t that the thing on the computer? Where you can spy on people?”
“You don’t spy, Mother,” Gloria said. “You friend them. It’s a way to stay connected with your family and friends.”
I thought about how Emily had come across Irv’s page, and how Billie’s assessment wasn't necessarily wrong.
“What did who say?” Billie pressed. Then to me, she said, “She won't let me get the Facebook.”
I made a sympathetic noise before asking another question. “How did Irv feel about them?”
“He was angry,” Gloria said. “Embarrassed, too, of course. All she was trying to do was embarrass him. But he was mad. He'd tried to apologize to her about what had happened – you know, with me and him – and she went after him with a hammer. She wouldn't listen to him. A few days later, she wrote all of those nasty things about him.”
“Did he confront her?” I asked.
She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, I don't think so. He wanted to, but I told him to leave it alone. I didn't think it would do anything other than create more animosity.”
Coming from her, this approach was surprising. I’d seen her on the warpath before, and had a hard time believing she’d sit quietly while her current boyfriend was being made a fool of online, much less encourage him to leave it alone.
“But he was angry?” I asked.
“Well, yes, of course” she said. “If you read them, you know how awful it was for him to read those things.”
“I need to find the Facebook,” Billie muttered.
Recognition flashed in Gloria's eyes and she finally saw what I was getting at. “Wait. Are you suggesting that Irv killed Agnes?”
I shrugged. “I'm not saying he did. But if he was angry over those posts, at the very least, you could hypothesize that he had motive to...to do something to her.”
“No.” Her tone was resolute. “He's not capable of that. He wouldn't do that.”
“He would slip you his pickle, though,” Billie murmured, soft enough so that I didn’t think Gloria heard her. I stifled a horrified chuckle at her crudeness. “And Agnes.”
“And he was over in Lakeland the day it happened,” Gloria continued. “He was looking at buying a new car. A convertible. So he wasn't even here.” She shook her head again. “No. It was not Irv.”
I wanted to point out that admitting he had motive was a good way to get the police's attention off of her, even if he did have an alibi. But she didn't seem willing to hear it. She was adamant that Irv wouldn't kill Agnes Clutterbuck for outing his sexual shortcomings.
Gloria started to say something, but her doorbell chimed. She stood. “Excuse me for just a second.”
Billie and I both watched her as she walked down the hall toward the front door.
I turned to Billie. “What do you think? Would Irv kill Agnes?”
Grandma Billie squinted at me and smiled. “I wouldn't put anything past old Irv the Perv.”
TWENTY EIGHT
Gloria came back to the living room and she wasn't alone.
Esther Quiddle was behind her, and she seemed surprised to see both me and Billie already there. She was dressed in a pair of navy slacks and a pink blouse and her black and gray hair was clipped back with a silver barrette. Silver knots dotted each ear.
“I didn't realize you had company,” she said, offering a smile that didn't look particularly genuine. “Hello, Daisy.” The fake smile dimmed. “Billie.”
Billie just chuckled.
“Hi, Esther,” I said. “I actually stopped by unannounced so I think I'm the one intruding.”
“Nonsense,” Gloria said. “You're family. You're always welcome here.” She looked at Esther. “Now. What did you need?”
Esther pursed her lips for a moment. “I was going to go pick up the new mic in the morning – you know, the one you asked me to get. It's in at the music store.”
“Oh,” Gloria said, nodding. “Alright.”
They both stood there awkwardly for a moment.
“And I was hoping you might be able to give me the money to pick it up,” Esther prompted.
“Oh,” Gloria said. “Well, why don't you just pick it up and I'll reimburse you after the party.”
Esther folded her arms across her chest. “I'd actually prefer to take the money with me.”
“I'm happy to pay you tomorrow evening,” Gloria said. “Really, that would be easiest. When I don’t have company.”
Esther pursed her lips again. “Will you also pay me back for the speaker cables? And the music stand?”
“I haven't paid you for those things?” Gloria asked, frowning. “I thought I had.”
“You haven't,” Esther said. “And I'm still waiting on the stipend you promised me.” She paused. “Two months ago.”
If things had felt awkward before, it was nothing to the tensio
n in the room now. I was really wishing I had gotten up and left as soon as Esther had walked through the door.
Billie, on the other hand, was smiling like the Cheshire Cat.
“I...uh...well,” Gloria stammered. “Maybe we can talk about this later? After the party?”
Esther looked down at the floor for a moment, her arms still folded tightly across her chest. After almost thirty seconds, she finally looked up.
“I quit,” she said flatly. “I'm done.”
“What?” Gloria said.
“I. Quit,” she repeated. “And actually, I already have a new job.” She laughed. “So I really do quit.”
“Esther, what are you talking about?” Gloria asked, bewildered. “Why? What is this all about?”
“What this is all about is that I am tired of empty promises,” Esther told her. Her eyes flashed, but her voice remained calm. “I’m tired of hearing things will happen and then they don't. I’m tired of spending my own money and not getting paid back. I’m tired of being treated like a dog.” She took a deep breath. “So. I quit. The Elderly Elvises have already started paying me.”
“Oh my,” Billie murmured. “Oh my. This isn't going to be good.”
Gloria's face flushed red with anger. “The Elderly Elvises? You have to be kidding me.”
“I am not, in fact, kidding you,” she said evenly. “And I am done with this conversation. I should've done this a long time ago.”
“You can't do this to us!” Gloria said. “We need you!”
She looked like she was ready to pounce and I stood up, thinking it was going to be my responsibility to insert myself between the two of them to prevent yet another cat fight.
“You should've thought of that sooner,” Esther said, heading for the door.
“You’ll be sorry,” Gloria thundered. “If you walk out that door, you will regret it!”
Esther didn’t even look back. “Toodaloo!”
TWENTY NINE
I sat there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Even Grandma Billie seemed at a loss for words.
Gloria, however, looked like a volcano about to explode. She was on her feet, a determined, murderous expression on her face.
