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Eating Cupcakes in a Cemetery

Page 2

by Shelley Dawn Siddall


  Oddly enough, Helen couldn’t get in touch with Serafino, so she sent Tony to follow-up. He was as useless as the proverbial female genitalia on a bull, but he was family. Sort of.

  Now to find out Serafino was dead? That was a shame. Once it was public knowledge, she’d send some flowers to his family. Serafino could have ‘talked’ to Gary and made sure Gary wasn’t inclined to screw-up again. She sure couldn’t send Tony and her other enforcers were out of town on different projects. What to do?

  Helen thought back about how she entered into a business arrangement with Gary. She ran several operations including loan sharking. Gary had a little gambling problem; Helen had a big enforcer solution. The thing was, Serafino wasn’t just brawn, he was also brains. He quickly realized Gary could provide them with an opportunity.

  “Helen, before I tune this guy up; how about if you come over and talk to him? He’s in charge of preventing what they call shrinkage at the big box chain called “Mansion Decorating Discounts”. If he can prevent shrinkage, then why can’t he cause it?”

  And indeed, with Helen’s resources, Gary could create undetected shrinkage.

  The key was the truck driver and Serafino’s persuasive techniques. If the manifest read “eighteen skids” to be dropped off at Cherryvale Mall, the truck driver would write change the 18 to a 13. Or 15 to 10. Sure it was sloppy, but it worked. The warehouse manager was too new and too harried to question the changes. The driver would systematically short Mansion Decorating Discounts at least five pallets of merchandize with every delivery.

  Gary would arrange for higher end furniture to be shipped to the mall location; but of course, all of it wouldn’t be delivered. The five-pallet holdback always included some large ticket items. The goods were then delivered to a new store, owned and operated by Helen Percy.

  It was by far, Helen’s most profitable operation.

  But then, Gary was questioning Helen’s decisions. It was a shame Serafino was dead, Helen thought again as she sipped her coffee. She looked at the numbers on her screen. Her flagship discount store, Cottage Decorating Discounts, in the same city but downtown, was performing well as her overhead was approximately 90% lower than a comparable store.

  One reason her overhead was low? Helen had a ‘relationship’ with the owner of the building that housed her store. It was simple. She had strongly suggested, ‘You give me store space and I won’t give evidence that you had several of your older buildings torched for insurance money’; he agreed without a peep. Of course Helen’s team was responsible for the arson as well as recording sufficient information for blackmail.

  Another reason? Helen didn’t have to pay for stock. Mansion Decorating Discounts provided it and even paid the truck driver to deliver the pallets to her store. Also, she paid her staff minimum wage to ensure a frequent turnover of personnel. This guaranteed no one would stay long enough to care about anything like re-ticketing. Helen lowered the price on the appropriated merchandize to twenty percent below the competitor’s retail price and made a killing in sales daily.

  Now she wanted to run the operation in another city, yet Gary was reluctant. Helen could not understand why as he could basically do everything remotely from his office. Gary was making tons of money; he even had his teeth fixed and was taking vacations.

  For the past year, Gary had been a very greedy guy, but now he didn’t want to make even more money? Something was up, so she demanded a meeting.

  That was when she found out about a flamingo flash drive.

  ***

  That evening, Bev parked in the no parking zone and ran up the steps to her sister’s townhouse and pounded on the door.

  “I’m here!” she yelled. She could see the change in light as someone stood on the other side of the peephole.

  “Belinda! It’s me, Bev. Open the door!”

  The door slowly opened.

  Belinda Nichols looked at her younger sister and said, “I have to call my sponsor,” and walked away.

  “Bonus,” Bev said as she hauled in a couple of her trash bags full of clothes and money. As Bev placed the birdcage on the coffee table, she heard a funeral march being played. She looked around and realized the sound was coming from her bra.

  “Oh, it’s my phone! Hello?”

  “Miss Nichols, this is the Manager at the Shady Rest Motel. Your rent continues to be overdue. If you do not pay today, I will have no other choice but to evict you and turn the matter over to a collection agency.”

  “Oh, no worries Tom! This is Tom, isn’t it? I’ve already evicted myself.”

  “This is not Tom. There is no one here called Tom. You have evicted yourself? I do not understand, Miss Nichols.”

  Bev’s enthusiasm to be at her sister’s home turned to jaw-dropping wonder as she looked around the living room. Every square inch of every wall was covered with puzzles. Completed puzzles glued and framed.

  “You should see these puzzles Tom, they’re awesome! She’s got teacups and gardens and hot air balloons and…”

  “Miss Nichols, I need the rent.”

  “I’ve moved out Tom, but you can keep all the furniture and sell it to make up my rent shortfall.”

  “Ma’am, you rented a furnished motel room.”

  Bev thought back to her morning exodus. When she had taken one last look at what had been her home for who knows how long, she certainly didn’t, she noticed a nice little side table. For some reason, she had bolted it to the floor.

  With more grit than she knew she was capable of; she used her hacksaw to cut through the metal. Bev didn’t know where the hacksaw had come from, but it and the side table were currently stored in the backseat of the Tercel beside her sleeping bag.

  “Ma’am, if you do not pay the rent today, I shall have to call your employer and advise them of your tardiness.”

  Somewhere in the back of Bev’s pickled brain she knew it was against the law to threaten a delinquent client in this manner, but she really wanted to know where she worked. “Could you do that Tom? Could you look up where I work and let me know?”

  Bev could hear the clacking of the computer keys. The Manager of the Shady Rest Motel came back on the phone.

  “Miss Nichols I am looking up your employer. This is your last chance.”

  “You know, that would make a much better name for your motel. The Last Chance Motel sounds much better than Shady Rest Motel. Shady Rest sounds like a graveyard. But Tom, I do like going to the cemetery to relax; I find it very peaceful.”

  “We shall keep the name then Ma’am. I am phoning your employer as soon as I disengage the line.”

  “Who do I work for Tom?”

  “Considerate Collection Agencies.”

  Bev started laughing so hard she dropped her phone. Considerate? How in the world could a collection agency be considerate? What did they do, walk up to you with tea and cookies and ask politely for their money back? The irony that she was behind on most of her bills and collection agencies were probably after her was lost on Bev.

  Belinda came in the room and was definitely not laughing or smiling. Not one little bit.

  “You are part of my step nine according to my sponsor,” she said flatly as she looked with disgust at the trash Bev had dragged into her neat home.

  “So, you’ve got a sponsor? Fantastic! What show are you in?”

  A wave of relief washed over Belinda as she saw the empty birdcage. Thank goodness! But was the bird loose in the house?

  “Beverly Penelope, I have no idea what you are talking about. Did you bring a bird into my house?”

  Boy, thought Bev, so many people today are having a hard time understanding things, must be something going around.

  ***

  Tony clearly understood the text. He loved texting. As per Auntie Helen’s instructions, nope, make that Mrs. Percy’s instructions, he searched through Serafino’s clothes. He found nothing and texted his boss to that effect.

  The highway only ran north or south and Tony was told t
o come back home; south to Eureka. Tony wasn’t sure of directions, but he did know how to read a road sign. So after driving for about thirty minutes; after he read a road sign, he turned around and drove the other way.

  ***

  Hailey and Jamal had spent the day looking for Bev. Hailey had gone to get real coffee that Thursday morning; not that complimentary motel crap and noticed that the little red car wasn’t parked in it’s stall. She rushed back to the hotel room and shook her partner.

  “She’s gone. Wake up Jamal; Beverly’s gone!”

  Jamal mumbled something, then sat up. He repeated his statement.

  “Well she didn’t go to work; she got fired yesterday.”

  Hailey looked at her watch. It was a little after nine.

  “Bars aren’t open this early, are they?”

  Jamal wasn’t concerned.

  “She’s a weird one, but predictable. We’re going to find her sleeping it off in the cemetery. I’m having a shower.”

  Hailey drank her coffee and thought about it. In the two weeks they had been surveilling this subject, they always followed her from a bar to the cemetery. Then the subject would sit and bawl.

  Hailey had pretended she was a relative visiting a grave and buddied up to Beverly to mine her for intel. Or so Hailey said in her report when she asked for permission to engage the subject about one week ago. Hailey had long dismissed Beverly as any source of information; the FBI agent was just curious why this young woman always ended up in front of headstones.

  “Oh no, this isn’t my family; I just take care of the graves,” Bev said when Hailey found her planting flowers.

  “Where do you get the flowers from?”

  “I take some of them from other graves. You know, some of these people have been dead for a long time and nobody is taking care of their burial plots. So I just brighten things up a bit and share the wealth, you know? I like to think of it as a service I’m doing for the community.” Bev was drunker than a skunk and started to tear up and sing a song of her own composition.

  “Sometimes I see a plain grass grave and wilting flowers I save; and plant them in the ground. Say, what rhymes with ground?”

  Hailey said the first thing that came to her mind. “Pound.”

  “And I plant them carefullllllly; I don’t pound!” Bev finished her song and confessed to Hailey, “I don’t have that copyrighted yet so don’t steal my song, okay?”

  Hailey agreed and sat down beside Bev. “Sure, but why do you come here every night? What’s the attraction?”

  In a rare moment of honesty, Bev whispered, “I figure the best place to be lonely is right here.”

  ***

  Once Jamal had his shower and the coffee Hailey had brought him, they headed out to the cemetery but instead of finding Bev, they found a dead guy. His neat three-piece suit did not have a hole in it but his chest certainly did. They spent hours dealing with the local cops and finally returned to their motel room around supper time.

  “This is not good Hailey; do you think she killed him?” Jamal asked as he fiddled with the remote.

  “She didn’t strike me as a murderer, but maybe we’re totally wrong about her. Maybe she’s the mastermind behind this whole thing.” Hailey stretched then added, “I’ll go talk to the Manager and see what he knows.”

  Jamal kept pressing buttons on the remote. “This thing isn’t working. Can you ask him if he has any batteries?”

  Hailey walked over to the TV and pressed the on button, then went to see the Manager. She was informed that Miss Beverly had phoned and advised that she had evicted herself.

  “She eviscerated herself?” Hailey asked scrunching up her nose. “Ew.”

  “Yes. I phoned Ma’am to pay her rent or she would be evicted, and she said she had left.

  Hailey sighed with relief; Bev had not eviscerated herself. But it seemed Hailey would have to change the batteries on the hearing aid for her right ear.

  Hailey was still pissed at the local cops though; it had taken hours before they would let Hailey and Jamal search the crime scene. The Coroner was equally uncooperative. Hopefully he believed the fax sent to his office from the FBI field office and would forward a copy of his report. For these reasons Hailey decided not to share with the Coroner and local cops anything she might find in Bev’s room until later; if ever. Fortunately, the Manager had already accepted Jamal’s credentials two weeks previous and let his partner into Bev’s motel room without a moment’s hesitation. Or a search warrant.

  The kitchen wall was covered with dried blood. A study of blood spray patterns was included in her training, so Hailey was certain this wasn’t the area where the unknown male was shot. She didn’t see the same arterial spray that she saw on the tombstone. The blood drops on Bev’s kitchen wall and floor had tails.

  Hailey had grown fond of Bev; she felt sorry for her and oddly protective, but she wasn’t going to tell Jamal that. He was a master of detachment; he never got close to a subject. His partner was another matter.

  “Bev, please tell me you had a nosebleed and did not murder someone else,” Hailey asked as she looked through the boxes of empty liquor bottles.

  A voice spoke from behind her. “Oh no Ma’am, we do not allow murders in our motel.”

  Chapter Three

  Hailey swirled around and saw the Manager standing at the doorway holding his cell phone.

  “I will be needing to contact my housekeeper; how long will you be needing this room?”

  Hailey knew there was quite a lengthy process of fingerprinting required, but she also knew that she could catch more flies with honey.

  “I am so sorry Sir, but we are going to need tonight and at least another day to process the scene.” She pretended to suddenly have an idea. “You know, my partner is a real go-getter. If he knows where Bev is, he might just hurry through the processing of the room and race off to find her! Any idea where she might be?”

  Hailey knew that Bev had family back in Eureka; but she thought if she buttered up the Manager, she might find out some tidbit of information that the FBI didn’t already know. It was a murder investigation now and she was in the thick of it! If she solved this, it would be a real feather in her cap.

  The Manager loved being called Sir and loved being included in the investigation.

  “Miss Beverly Nichols mentioned three items of interest; puzzles, teacups and gardens. Plus, I am sure she is somewhere in California by the water.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Ma’am, the tardy rent paying lady who may have had a nosebleed in this room also mentioned hot air balloons. It is far too dangerous to go up in a balloon in this area. Many hot air balloon gatherings occur at this time over water. Which, if I may say, is just as foolhardy a choice as over tall buildings.”

  Jamal was the usual contact with the motel office; so Hailey leaned forward to read the man’s badge, but it only said Manager.

  “Why don’t you have your name on your nameplate?”

  “This is the sad state of some citizens I have met. Many would think less of me if they knew my name and not treat me with the respect I deserve as Manager of the Shady Rest Motel for these past ten years.”

  “So put a different name on it.”

  The unnamed Manager smiled. “I could put Sean Connery as my name Ma’am?”

  “I’d pick a different last name, Sean, but I’d really like to thank you for all the information you have given me. Do you remember anything else about this phone call to Bev?”

  “I am going away and coming back shortly,” he said and exited the room.

  Hailey still had an extra set of gloves reluctantly given to her at the murder scene in the cemetery; so she put these on and started sorting through the various pieces of clothing scattered around the room.

  She started finding hundred-dollar bills tucked into the sleeves of shirts.

  “What the hell?”

  ***

  “So what show are you in?” Bev asked her s
ister Belinda but without waiting for an answer she rushed on, “Did you get work as an extra or are you the star? It must be so exciting! Is it an adventure treasure seeking movie? Do they want you to hold up a can of dog food as you zip line through the jungle while being shot at by bad guys?”

  Her older Sister shook her head and said, “Oh snake-spit, bad word, bad word.”

  Bev had never heard Belinda swear so much. Actually, it wasn’t true swearing, but ever since Belinda had hung up on Bev for ‘having a mouth like a sewer’, the sisters had decided to use euphemisms instead of swearing.

  “I am not in an expletive show, Beverly, what ever gave you that idea?”

  “You said you had a sponsor. You know, like Grandma and Grandpa had when they did radio shows.”

  Belinda started flapping her hands and breathing rapidly.

  “I am a drunk who is trying to stay sober, so I have a sponsor!”

  Bev pulled a face. “And they make you sell dog food?”

  Belinda strode across the front room and held the door open.

  “Out!” she yelled.

  “I don’t have anywhere to go,” Bev said quietly.

  Her older sister flew into a rage and started kicking the trash bags Bev had dragged in.

  “I said get out and I mean get out! I do not need a drunken leech in my life! You are nothing but trouble and I told you two weeks ago that you are never allowed in my house again! Get the hell out!”

  Bev pursed her lips and sat down on a chair. “Two weeks ago? I wasn’t here.” She smirked. “I mean, I don’t actually know where I was, but I wasn’t here. Heah, stop kicking my clothes!”

  Belinda smiled wickedly. “Oh I’ll kick your clothes if I want to; not only that, I’ll rip them apart if I want to!” She ripped open the plastic bags and started pulling out the clothing. She stopped.

  “You saved the sweaters I knit you?”

  “Of course,” said Bev. “My sister knit them for me, why would I get rid of them? Sure you knitted them when you were drunk and some of the sleeves look like you kind of forgot what you were doing and just kept knitting.” Bev started searching through the bags. “You’re not going to believe this, but one has a sleeve close to four feet long. The other sleeve is regular length. The cutest thing I ever saw.”

 

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