The fire had gone out of Belinda and she sat on a chair next to Bev. “I can’t quite remember,” she said, “Did you ask for all black sweaters?”
“Nope, but you just kept knitting them. Part of your obsessive-compulsive personality, I think. Look, here it is. Wait, let me just take this money out of the sleeves. Oh, do you want some?” she asked when her sister looked shocked.
Belinda was shocked. Bev could barely hold down a job let alone save money. “Where did all this money come from?”
“After I woke up in the cemetery I came home and there it was; stuffed in my clothes. There was even some in a duffel bag in the bathtub beside the chocolate boxes. It might belong to the dead guy I woke up beside or maybe I took it from work? I used to be a bailiff you know.”
Belinda started flapping her hands again and getting red in the face.
“Dead guy? I can’t deal. I have to go.” She locked her front door and went down to the basement. Bev followed and found a nearly empty basement. The only piece of furniture was a filing cabinet sitting directly on the cold concrete floor. It had an old boombox on it.
“Say, I know where you can get furniture cheap. Just rent a motel room but be sure to bring your own hacksaw; they bolt their stuff down.”
Belinda continued to ignore Bev. She opened the filing cabinet and pulled out two pairs of classic roller-skates.
“Put these on,” she ordered.
Once both sisters were skate ready, Belinda turned off the lights.
The entire basement lit up with glow in the dark stickers. Moons, stars, planets and nasty swear words glowed magically from every surface.
Belinda rolled over to the boombox, cranked up the tunes and began skating around the basement faster and faster.
Bev, higher than a kite on boxes of brandy chocolates she had eaten, was completely disoriented. She didn’t know which way was up or down. She decided to stay in one spot and spin.
Not her best idea.
***
Tony ‘Fettucine’ Taylor liked his nickname. He figured it made him cool, so he introduced himself that way at the taco stand.
“I’m sorry sir, we do not sell fettucine; only tacos. There’s an Italian place a couple of blocks over if you want pasta.”
Tony thought this over. Why not? He already lost the chick on the drive down here; he’d have a nice meal before he phoned Mrs. Percy.
Helen Percy phoned him first. She figured that since they didn’t connect with Bev in Seattle, she must be headed to her sister’s in Eureka. A quick google search gave Helen the address.
Tony’s side of the conversation was short. “Now? A Taxi? Bye.”
The entire taxi ride over to Belinda Nichol’s townhouse was troublesome for Tony. It was even more so for the taxi driver as he had to listen to endless questions from his fare about someone called Auntie Helen.
“What? Does Auntie Helen think I’m stupid? Does she think I can’t even find an address? So what, is Serafino going to find the Nichols chick? Oh I don’t think so Auntie Helen. Serafino is dead. I’m the one you need now, don’t you?”
Tony threw the money at the driver and got out in front of 1104 Wayfare Road. He was still grumbling. “Why didn’t Auntie Helen just give me the sister’s address to begin with? Doesn’t she trust me?”
He spotted Bev’s beat up red Tercel and, as per both verbal and the follow-up text instructions sent for clarity, he started to rip it apart; but Tony ‘Fettucine’ Taylor style. First, he carefully started peeling the tape from the piece of cardboard on the side window and removed the cardboard. From there, he reached in and opened the door and started looking something strange. A bird; a pink flamingo in fact. Tony didn’t understand, but he had it in writing; Auntie Helen wanted him to find a pink flamingo.
***
“Why here are the batteries you asked for little lady.”
Hailey recognized the Manager, but not his newfound Texan drawl. His nameplate now read “Sean W. Johnson”; in his hand were four triple A batteries.
“Howdy Ma’am!”
Hailey hid a smile. “I see you had a label maker handy. I understand where the Sean came from but Johnson?”
“I am a big fan of Mr. Rock Johnson Ma’am; I mean, well shucks ma’am, I like the Rock plenty.”
“And your Texan drawl?”
“The Duke is a right favorite of mine.”
Hailey walked around Sean. “This is good,” she said and continued circling. “I see a confidence; a determination to lead by example! Yes, I see a leader!”
Sean lifted his chin and looked determined.
“But I think less is more. If you were to add the drawl right now, it would be gilding the lily. Your staff would be too overwhelmed.”
“Yes, undercover FBI authority person Hailey. You have made a fine point and I will abide by it.”
“Thanks Sean. Was this chain attached to a side table?”
“Yes, rightly so Ma’am.”
Hailey wandered through the room looking for more money. Currently, she had found just over three thousand dollars in one hundred-dollar bills, non-sequential and old. Probably not from a bank robbery. Her phone rang.
“Hailey, where are you? Did you get the batteries?”
“I’m working the case Jamal,” she said testily. She turned away from Sean and whispered, “You know, the case of the missing woman we were supposed to keep under surveillance instead of knocking boots.”
Sean giggled.
“Oh yes Ma’am, we do allow many knocking of boots in this no-tell motel.”
***
The twins stopped roller skating for two very separate reasons. Belinda had worn herself out and Beverly was on the verge of passing out.
They went upstairs.
Belinda started eating a piece of chocolate, then ran to the sink and spit it out.
“This has alcohol in it!”
“No kidding Sherlock.” Bev was getting to the mean phase of her drunkenness.
“If you think you’re so smart, can you tell me the difference between borrowing and stealing?” her older sister shot back in the same mean-spirited tone. “Like how is borrowing a table from a motel different from stealing?”
“There is only one cushion on your couch. Why? Do you have an aversion to fluffy things? Is that why you hate me, Belinda, because I’m so fluffy?”
Belinda looked away.
“Okay,” said Bev, “Back to my appropriation of furniture from the motel. Now after five years, the owners can no longer depreciate the furniture at twenty percent a year. So basically, I did them a favor. Now they have to go buy new furniture and then they can start the cycle of depreciation anew. And ta da! They have a tax write-off!”
“Did you just use the word anew? What are you? Some sort of poet accountant savant?”
Before Bev could formulate an answer, a loud banging began on the front door.
“Open up; this may be the police!”
Belinda grabbed Bev by the scruff of the neck and pulled her to the kitchen in the back.
“Not the police,” she panted, “Out! Let’s go!”
The two young woman ran out the back door as Tony Fettucine Taylor crashed in the front.
He was looking for a pink flamingo so naturally he ran over to the bird cage. No pink flamingo resided there. Actually, Tony seriously doubted a flamingo could fit in that bird cage; flamingos were big!
He did notice a little pink flamingo toy hanging inside on a chain.
“Isn’t that precious,” he said as he opened the cage and reached in for the toy. Tony’s frame was sometimes called husky by kind salespeople who assured him he could fit the jeans they were trying to sell him. Other people just called him fat.
His hands were husky too. What he wanted to do was rip the little flamingo off the chain, but he could barely get his hand inside. He grasped what he could of the flamingo and tugged.
“Awe, your butt came off.” Tony stared at the half of the flamingo still hanging
inside the bird cage. A shiny metal square with two divots stuck out from the top half of the pink bird.
Unfortunately, Tony had no idea what a flash drive was. Instead he was worried that the real bird who lived in the cage would be saddened when it came back home because it’s little toy was broken.
“That doesn’t look pretty. Let me put you back together again.”
With a significant amount of grunting and twisting Tony was able to push the butt back on the pink flamingo. He continued to look for an actual bird while wondering why his Auntie Helen would need one.
He ripped every puzzle off the wall looking for hidey holes that a bird could crawl into. Tony looked inside the kitchen cabinets and was disappointed. He was going to go upstairs and check the bedrooms, but he heard a siren, so he went out the front door, lumbered down the steps and watched with relief as the police car drove by without stopping. Tony pulled out the address where he had left his car and then hailed a cab. The only thing he had to show for his search was a beautiful green feather he found in the car.
***
The sisters had run out the back door, circled around the townhouse and watched from across the road.
“I saw him leave, let’s go back inside,” Belinda said.
“Do you know who he is?” Belinda asked trembling. Fear made her cling to the nearest person, even if it was Bev.
“I haven’t got the foggiest.”
The simple sliding latch was no longer attached to the front door. It was laying on the floor inside the townhouse, but so were thousands of tiny pieces of colored cardboard.
Belinda saw her broken puzzles and screamed.
“Overreact much?” Bev asked. “What’s the big deal Belinda? Think of how much fun you’ll have when you put them back together again!”
“These were my sobriety puzzles!” Belinda screamed. She started picking up handfuls of puzzle pieces and throwing them at her younger sister. “These were accomplishments!” She hit Bev in the knee with a handful of cardboard. “First day sober.” She hit Bev in the thigh. “First week sober, first day sober again, first week sober again, first month sober, first day sober again.” She picked up a fistfuls of pieces and flung them at Bev’s head. “You are a useless waste of skin!” she screamed hoarsely.
Belinda continued to rage. She walked back and forth from the kitchen to the living room, huffing and puffing and flapping her hands. She finally stopped and pointed at Bev.
“Nothing. You have accomplished nothing. There is nothing in your life you could ever be proud of.”
Bev had protected herself from the tiny missiles aimed at her head; but against this latest assault by her sister she was defenceless. She nodded, started crying and looked down at the floor.
Then she raised her head and said quietly, “Well, there was a child.”
Chapter Four
Gary Chorney was scared. He had finally confessed to Helen Percy two weeks ago the reason he was reluctant to duplicate their successful operation. He had not only stored all the copies of truck manifests and details regarding the new store on a flash drive, but he had also downloaded copies of emails between him and Helen.
Then he lost the flash drive.
Gary had always been driven and was determined he would be a millionaire before he turned thirty. When that birthday came and went, he doubled down and continued to double down until he had lost all of his savings gambling. About one year ago, he went out of state to attend a work-related event; sort of a meet and greet with the multi-millionaire owner in his hometown. Afterwards, Gary hit the casinos. He lost. He borrowed. He lost again. He borrowed and of course, lost. Gary wound up in debt thirty thousand dollars to a local loan shark, Helen Percy.
After a few cracked ribs, and two black eyes, he had a delightful conversation with Helen and Serafino and agreed wholeheartedly to enter into the loss creation business.
Gary was the head honcho for not only preventing theft in the big box chain he worked for; but also the detection and recovery of internal fraud. Gary even ran seminars when new stores opened, so he could easily divert merchandise and scrub video footage. And he could do it all remotely from a few states away. After his last foray to Helen’s state, he determined he would never visit it again and thus, never meet Serafino or Serafino’s fists again.
His income jumped exponentially with his illegal activities. In one more year, he would attain his goal of becoming a millionaire. While Gary and gambling had parted ways, he had a new addiction. Drinking.
That was how he had met that cute little redhead, Bev.
She was a pistol! For such a petit woman, she had a large voice and blew everybody away at Karaoke. She also drank a lot.
“You know Bev, I have in my hand the key to a million dollars. Did you know that?” Gary had drunkenly asked.
“Well you look like a million dollars my friend,” Bev had responded. “All green and wrinkled!”
They both laughed, but then Gary’s mood changed to super serious.
“No really Bev. See this? This is worth at least a million dollars. I’m going to be a millionaire by the time I’m thirty-three.”
“Bonus. What is it made of? Like, um, the most expensive thing in the world?” Bev squinted. “Is it the world’s smallest flamingo? Is that why it’s worth the big buckeroonies?”
Gary leaned forward and confidentially said, “Don’t tell anyone, but on this flash drive…”
Bev grabbed the little flamingo out of his hand and threw it on the floor.
“It’s didn’t light up and go boom!” she said sadly and started to bawl. “Where’s the smoke?” she cried.
Gary was a sucker for tears, especially flowing on Bev’s beautiful face.
“You’re thinking of flash powder, sweetie. It’s going to be okay. Let me just get that.”
Bev stopped crying and scooped up the flamingo. At the same time, the karaoke host called out their names.
“And now, by popular request, it’s time for Bev and Gary’s encore performance of “Don’t go breaking my heart!”
Both Bev and Gary forgot about the flash drive resting in Bev’s pocket. Their audience awaited!
The next morning, as Gary lay sprawled over his new king size mattress, he opened his eyes and saw the neon shamrock stamp on his hand. Then he remembered The Tipsy Leprechaun pub, the karaoke challenge for free drinks and then Bev.
“Seriously Helen, her name was Bev Moneypenny. And again, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” Helen barked. “The fact that you intended to blackmail me by copying our records or the fact that you lost those records?”
“Never, never in a million years did I intend to blackmail you! I just wanted a copy in case I had to um…”
Helen snickered. Despite Gary being able to thwart creative thieves by always being one step ahead of them; he was a terrible liar.
“Gary, give it up. You lost the flash drive. So far, all you can remember is that it’s shaped like a flamingo. Think hard. What was this woman’s name you were drinking with? I’m pretty sure it wasn’t Miss Moneypenny.”
Gary added another wee nip of whiskey to his coffee. “It is. I swear it. She said she has a twin sister Belinda who lives in Eureka.”
“Really helpful. Bev who? Belinda who?”
“Good questions.”
“Think Gary!” Helen demanded.
Gary wasn’t pleased with this attitude of Helen’s. Then he thought about Serafino and decided to keep his opinion to himself. Too bad Bev hadn’t come home with him; he could just ask her to give back the flash drive. But she said something about having to feed her bird.
Something clicked in Gary’s brain and he excitedly told Helen, “She gave me the card from the motel she’s staying at!” He got up and dug through his wallet.
“Right,” said Helen, “I’ll send Serafino up there today. No more screw-ups, Gary. Understood?”
Serafino coming to Seattle? Gary thought he was going to pass out. “Understood,”
he whispered.
***
Carmen Napoleone was not a happy camper and she told her new Esthetician why.
“So, my husband has been working out of town for the last two weeks. He is supposed to phone me by five thirty. Every. Single. Day. Even the kids know the schedule. Today is Thursday. The last time I heard from him was Tuesday. Oh no, hon, we could go darker on the eyebrows. Sort of a cross between a walnut and a dark cherrywood, oh here, let me show you my new bedroom set. It is the exact color I want.”
Luna smiled and patiently waited. Carmen was a new client and clearly liked to spend money on herself. Most of her body was augmented, those teeth could be used as a search light and those boobs; flotation devices. Plus, no way was that her original wrinkle free forehead. Luna figured if she listened now, Carmen would leave a big tip and become a regular client.
Luna even had a little black book she wrote notes in so she could reflect her client’s words back to them. They would think she was showing personal interest when in fact she was angling for a tip.
And, she thought, tip could be interpreted different ways, couldn’t it?
“Isn’t that darling,” Luna gushed. “What does your husband do for a living? He must be good at his job to treat you to a new bouncy-bounce for the boudoir!”
“Oh he’s in finance. At least, that’s what we say, but since you’re my beautician and you know a woman’s beautician should be like her sister and she should be able to tell her anything; well, Serafino is, how shall I say it? Oh, I’ll just come out and say it, he’s a collector for a loan shark.”
Luna’s heart sunk. Now she really had to bend over backwards to please this woman. There was no way she wanted Carmen’s husband after her.
“Would you like some more tea? Perhaps a different flavor this time?”
“No hon, but thanks. Could I switch to coffee? Something strong with hazelnut flavoring? I got to go to work yet tonight and I need to stay awake. You know, I think you and I are going to get along fine. Not like that Yolanda over at Merilee’s Salon; that woman was vile! Do you know, she insisted there was basically only two eyebrow colors, brown or blonde. Brown or blonde! I mean really, can you believe it? Then she hands me over to some novice to thread my eyebrows. Honestly, I couldn’t be seen in public for days!”
Eating Cupcakes in a Cemetery Page 3
