Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows

by David O. Dyer, Sr.

  “No,” Tim said. “I don't think there would be any danger. Whoever murdered Bobby and Adele had a personal vendetta against the two of them."

  “I don't have any furniture, but maybe I could afford to buy..."

  Tim held up his hand. “No need. The place is furnished. If you ladies will excuse me,” Tim said, getting to his feet, “I'll see if I can get Carl on the phone."

  Sandra reached for Maggie's hand. “I think that means he just hired you,” she said. “It will be a thirty day trial, just as you suggested, and you will be practically your own boss. Tim and I will draw up a list of requirements, but neither of us has the time to stand over you and direct your activities."

  “There's one little matter we haven't discussed,” Maggie said.

  Sandra smiled. “You expect to be paid, don't you? I'm sure we can't offer you as much as Mr. Bennett was paying. Tim and I agreed that the salary for this position should be three thousand a month, all major holidays off, two weeks of paid vacation each year, and a health insurance package that will knock your socks off."

  “That's a very generous offer. It's about the same as I was making at the restaurant."

  Tim resumed his place at the table. “Maggie, would you be willing to do the yard and maintenance work at the rental property?"

  “Of course."

  “Then Dudette and I will pick up the rental tab as a part of your salary. Maybe that will get you a little closer to what you were making."

  “Dudette?"

  Sandra laughed. “He's Dude and I'm Dudette. You'll get used to it."

  “Well okay, then. When do I start?"

  “How much notice do you need to give George?"

  “I should give him two weeks’ notice, but under the circumstances I think a clean break would be best. Let's see. This is Wednesday. I'd like to have a couple of days to move and I have previous plans for the weekend. Will Monday be all right?"

  “Monday will be fine,” Tim said, standing and extending his hand. “Our key people meet every Monday at nine o'clock in this study. We'll see you then."

  Maggie took his hand and realized he was terminating the interview, but she did not stand. “I will be one of your key people?"

  “Bobby always attended these meeting,” Sandra explained. “Many times things came up that he could handle for us. We would like for you to attend two or three of the meetings and then we'll decide if it is necessary for you to attend them all."

  “How should I dress?"

  “What you are wearing today is fine,” Tim replied.

  “Mr. Dollar—Mrs. Dollar—you've been most gracious with your time but there is one more thing."

  “You're not going to last the thirty day trial period if you don't start calling us Tim and Sandy,” Sandra laughed. “What is it, Maggie?"

  Tim sat back down and Maggie thought she heard him sigh.

  “How much does the housekeeping job pay?"

  “Two thousand a month with the same holiday, vacation and benefit package,” Sandra answered. “Why do you ask?"

  “There's a girl on the housekeeping staff at the motel. She's making about fifteen hundred a month and really needs the extra money."

  “Does she have any experience?” Tim asked.

  “I don't know. I doubt that she's ever worked as a nanny."

  “What's her background?” Sandra asked.

  “Before she came here she worked as a waitress."

  Tim cleared his throat. “Anything else?"

  Maggie shook her head and grinned as she stood up. “Forget it,” she said. “I shouldn't have brought it up."

  Sandra grabbed her hand. “You can be open with us, Maggie. In fact, we insist on it."

  Maggie looked at the tabletop and mumbled, “She was a hooker.” She had no idea why Tim and Sandra roared with laughter.

  “Tell her to come see me,” Sandra said. “I'll be glad to talk with her, but don't get her hopes up. She doesn't sound like the cultured nanny I am hoping to find."

  Tim and Sandra stood on their porch and waved at the departing Blazer. She hugged him and said, “Dude, you always did prefer girls with tiny tits, thank God."

  “Her's aren't tiny, Dudette. She must have them strapped down or something today. Haven't you noticed her at the Korner Kitchen?"

  “No, but I'm sure you have checked her out."

  “Hey, it's a man's job. What do you think of hiring a former hooker as a housekeeper? Let's see, how many former prostitutes do we have working for us now?"

  “Counting me?” she asked.

  He kissed her on the top of her head. “Let's go to bed,” he said as he tenderly cupped her tiny right breast.

  “Not now, Tomcat. It's time for Junior to wake up from his nap."

  “Damn. We have to find a nanny soon. Dudette, I think you are going to have to lower your sights. Adele was a former prostitute and not well educated. She was great with Junior. Let's give this girl a try."

  “Dude, we haven't even met her. I'm afraid your hormones are clouding your judgement."

  He pulled her to him and nibbled her upper lip as his hands roamed her body.

  “Then again,” she whispered, “I've always been partial to your hormones."

  Chapter Nine

  George Bennett loved summertime in North Carolina. The extended period of daylight, made even more useful by daylight savings time, usually kept his spirits bright. He liked going to work with the sun beginning to rise and he liked going home before the sun dipped below the western horizon. Weather prognosticators predicted the July Saturday to be steamy hot, but air conditioning would offset that little disadvantage, and besides, he liked reasonably high humidity.

  However, on this particular Saturday morning, neither daylight nor perfect weather conditions could lift his spirits. He slowed as he approached the Dollar estate, but it was the opposite side of the road that held his attention. He coasted to the shoulder of the road in front of the Elliott house where Maggie was now living and cut the engine. He pulled an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket and removed the folded piece of paper. He revised the letter so many times he practically had it memorized, but he wanted to check it once more.

  Dear Maggie,

  I don't know what I did that hurt you so much, but whatever it was must have been horrible. I am so very, very sorry. I hope and pray that one day you'll forgive me and that we can at least be friends. The house is so empty with you gone, and the business has lost its meaning without you to share it with me.

  Sometimes my heart hurts so badly I can scarcely breathe. You are such a beautiful woman, both inside and out. If there is anything I can do to make things right, please give me the opportunity. As long as I continue to draw breath, I will be here for you if you should ever need me.

  I miss you, Maggie. Be well. Be happy. And please forgive me for whatever I did.

  George

  He put the letter back into the envelope, sealed it, got out of his car and, before placing it in her mailbox, he kissed it.

  He drove on towards the restaurant. Dottie Frank passed him at the crossroads, stared at him and made an obscene gesture as she passed under the traffic light. On impulse, he turned left when the light flipped to green and followed her to Dot's Diner.

  He parked behind her truck and hesitantly eased out of his car. “Dottie,” he said approaching her. “Let me help you unload."

  “Go to hell, you bastard."

  “Dottie, I told you it would be like this. My offer to buy you out is still good, but I want to make you another offer."

  She leaned against the tailgate and leveled her eyes at him. “I'm not interested in anything you have to say, you old vulture."

  “Please at least listen. Maggie Skinner is no longer working for me. She has moved into the old Elliott house and gone to work for the Dollars. I don't know why she did this, but I do know I can't run the business alone. I have to replace her. Let me buy you out and come to work for me as my manager."

&nb
sp; “I want nothing to do with you, George Bennett,” she said. “I'm sorry you lost Maggie as your manager and live-in prostitute, but it's no concern of mine. As long as I'm still alive and able to work, Dot's Diner will never close."

  He moved closer to her. “Dottie, I never meant to hurt you. I know I've applied pressure, but I thought when you realized I was right, you'd sell out."

  “That I don't believe, you lying son-of-a-bitch. Billy told me yesterday that you've bought the Speed Shop. You've even started construction on a new service station. Looks like you're going to try to run him out of business, too."

  George was now so close she could smell his after-shave lotion. She liked it.

  “With all the traffic through the intersection we have now, there is plenty of business for two gas stations, Dottie. Billy has only a single set of pumps. Many times I have seen people pull away from his station rather than wait in line. I don't want to hurt either of you, Dottie, but business is business."

  He was moving his lips towards hers. She knew that. She knew she should step away from him. “I'll believe you don't want to hurt us when you drop your advertising campaign and raise your prices to a level we can both survive on."

  His lips were on hers. His hands were on her back, pulling her tightly to his body. For just a moment, she allowed it, surprised by the sensation of her breasts pressed against his chest, and then she slapped him as hard as she could. He pulled back quickly. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I just couldn't stop myself."

  She touched his flaming red left cheek. “Sometimes I don't know my own strength. I didn't mean to hit you that hard, but, damn it, keep your hands and lips off me, George Bennett. I'm not going to be your new source of sexual gratification."

  He nodded and walked slowly back to his car. He turned and looked at her before opening the car door. She returned his gaze. “Funny thing,” he said. “You know why Maggie quit and moved out of my house? She thinks I am in love with you. It's none of your business, but I think that's also the reason she refused to sleep with me."

  When he arrived at the Korner Kafe, he immediately put out the menus with increased prices, printed long before he opened, and dumped the cut-rate menus into the trash.

  He noticed the light on the Dot Super Save sign come on and knew that Billy Frank had begun another day. He helped Eddie put away the morning's delivery of food products and, with Eddie working in the kitchen, he waited on the customers who began to trickle in. Their complaints about the increased prices were expected. By lunchtime, most of the town would know he was no longer underselling Dottie Frank.

  “You're the boss,” Eddie said as he placed a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon on the ledge between the kitchen and dining area, “but I don't like Greta and me having different days off. Here I am working my ass off and she's probably still in bed asleep. Truth is,” he laughed, “I'd like to be in bed with her, but not sleeping."

  “It was a business decision that Maggie made before she resigned, Eddie. I'll reconsider it, but I doubt if I can change it."

  “I don't mean to sound like I'm threatening you or anything,” Eddie said, “but if I have to continue working weekends and she continues to have weekends off, one of us is going to have to look for another job."

  “I understand, Eddie. Like I said, I'll reconsider, but I have to do what I feel is best for the business."

  “And I have to do what I feel is best for my marriage."

  When the morning crew arrived, George placed a call to the Holder Advertising Agency, canceling his advertising campaign. He then crossed the intersection to the Dot Super Save and found Billy straightening up his service bay. “May I talk with you a minute?” George asked.

  “It's a free country,” Billy replied sarcastically.

  “I spoke with your mother briefly this morning, Billy. Maggie is now working for the Dollars. I need to replace her. I again offered to buy your mother's diner and I offered her the manager's job. She's a stubborn old cuss—much like me unfortunately. She wouldn't even consider it. I've heard rumors about her financial troubles, Billy. My offer is a good deal and would solve her problems."

  “Since when have you been interested in solving mom's problems? It looks to me like you're the cause of her problems."

  “Business is business, Billy. I thought when the going got rough your mom would accept my offer. I was wrong. I never meant to hurt her. I was hoping you would talk some sense into her head."

  “Mom makes her own decisions."

  “This morning I raised all my prices at the restaurant, Billy, and I cancelled the negative advertising campaign. I'm no longer undercutting Dottie's prices. The price war is over."

  Billy looked at the older man with contempt. “That's a step in the right direction, but, like they say, it's too little and too late. Mom is deeply in debt to her suppliers and has cut her menu drastically. It'll take forever for her to pay off her bills and reestablish credit."

  “Is she too stubborn to borrow the money?"

  “She tried."

  “I would be willing to make her a loan."

  “She'd rather die than to accept a loan from you."

  “Okay. Suppose I loan you the money and you loan it to Dottie? She need never know where the money actually came from."

  “She wouldn't take it from me either."

  “I know you won't believe me, Billy,” George said, “but I feel terrible about this and somehow I'm determined to make it right."

  “Fat chance."

  “There's another matter I want to discuss with you Billy.” George sat on a box of engine oil. “Your mother told me this morning that you know I have purchased the Speed Shop."

  Billy nodded. “The boys told me. Guess you're going to run me out of business too."

  “I did not actually buy the Speed Shop. I bought the land it's on. The boys became so involved in their sideline experimentation with ion-thruster engines that they let their racing engine business slide. Suddenly they found themselves needing new sophisticated and very expensive equipment and no financial reserves with which to buy it. The block building that's going up behind the Speed Shop will be a modern, fully equipped garage. When it is completed, the boys will move their operation back there and rent from me. Then I'll tear down the present building and erect a modern gas station with twelve sets of pumps and a food mart. The money I paid for the property will give them the additional operating capital they need."

  Billy nodded. “They will get that ion engine perfected one of these days. They already have a working model."

  “I saw it, Billy. I was not impressed, but what do I know about these things?"

  “Your gas station will do well too,” Billy said as he propped against his workbench, polishing a wrench with a red shop cloth. “There's more traffic through here now than I can handle. Once you get those pumps working I'm sure you'll under-price me by a penny a gallon or so. I'll fold in a hurry."

  “There's another way to do it, Billy. Sell me your business. When the new station is ready to open, you run it for me. I'll remodel the Dot Super Save with more pumps and a larger service area. Then you can run both places. With my backing, you can hire enough employees so that you can work a normal forty hour week, and I'll pay you a fair salary plus twenty-five percent of the profit."

  Billy seemed confused by the earnestness of Bennett's voice. “It's a fair offer, Mr. Bennett, but I like owning my own place. I'm proud of it."

  “I understand. You're like your mother in that respect—like me even. Would you consider going into a partnership with me?"

  “What do you mean?"

  “I'm not sure. I'll need to give it some thought, but perhaps you could invest your station and become a working partner with a salary and a share of the profit. That way you wouldn't lose ownership."

  “I would be a part owner of the garage, the new station and food mart and the Super Save?"

  Bennett nodded.

  “It's certainly something to think about, but I'm no
t going to make any commitment until I see your proposal in writing."

  For the first time that day, George smiled. “Do you think your mother would be interested in a similar partnership, combining her restaurant and mine?"

  “Not if you're going to close Dot's Diner, Mr. Bennett. She thinks more of that business than she does of me."

  * * * *

  “God, I hope Eddie doesn't come home during his lunch hour,” Greta said.

  “Does he usually do that?” Maggie asked.

  “No, but this is the first day I've been off while he is working. He might come home to check up on me, or to get him a little or something. Damn, if he finds me with my clothes on, he'll kill me and how in the hell can I explain you being here?"

  “You can say I came to tell you about the housekeeping job with Sandy Dollar, but what's this about having your clothes on?"

  Greta hung her head. “He makes me stay naked when we're in the house."

  “Greta, that's humiliating. Why do you put up with it?"

  “I don't mind except when I'm menstruating."

  “He won't even let you wear a sanitary pad?"

  “I'm on the pill, so I don't bleed much and it only lasts a couple of days."

  “I can see why you want to leave him. Look, Greta, as soon as we find the gold mining information, why don't you move in with me?"

  “Thanks, but I couldn't do that. He'd kill us both. When I leave, I must move far away where he can never find me."

  “You're exaggerating, Greta."

  “No. I'm not. Believe me."

  “Look,” Maggie said pulling a book from the shelf in the Crow's spare room. “Here's another one on gold mining.” She added it to the growing stack on the desk. “That makes twelve. Maybe Miss Jenkins meant she had many books on the subject."

  “No. Her letter to me said notebook. Even I know the difference between a book and a notebook."

  “Well, let's go through the file cabinet one more time,” Maggie said with a sigh.

  No notebook on gold mining was in the spare room. They moved to the bedroom closet and took everything out, but the missing notebook was not there, either. As they replaced the contents of the closet, Greta asked, “Why did you quit your job at the Korner Kafe, Maggie?"