Sean was devastated. “But we are speaking English now; I see no reason why we would not continue to speak English after the marriage?”
The suspended FBI special agent put her hands to her temples. “Maybe this is just the coffee talking, but how could I get to know all about you and grow to love your family back in India if I don’t speak their language? You told me it’s just you and your Grandma here in the states, along with a multitude of cousins.”
The manager of the Shady Rest Motel put his hands on his hips. “You are one fast thinker, Miss Hailey. These things would never have occurred to me. I am very pleased with the reason behind your reluctance to marry me.”
“As well,” Hailey continued while drinking the last of her coffee, “What if we are at the wedding reception and one of your cousins walks up to me and I smile, and nod and they smile and nod and say something to me in their language. Then I say thank you thinking they are saying congratulations when in reality, they are saying ‘you have the face of a goat’. How embarrassing would that be for you!”
“Do you always think this fast Miss Hailey? And there is no way that anyone would think you have the face of a goat. You are beautiful. You do need to work on not being a sex fiend though.”
Hailey laughed. A genuine, long overdue laugh. She felt her whole body relax. She looked at the grin on Sean’s face and was going to tell him that she needed some time to figure out what she was doing with her life before she married him, when she noticed two women getting out of an old red car. Both women had flaming red hair.
“Don’t look now Sean, but I think I see Bev and her sister. Or, I am still so hungover, I am seeing double. Maybe you should look. They’re walking into the liquor store.”
Sean turned around and looked out the glass window.
“Right now we will take decisive action and capture this person of interest so my Grandmother can get a computer. We will discuss our courtship at another time.”
They both flew out of their chairs and ran to the liquor store and straight into the Nichol sisters as they were walking back out. Belinda started picking up the hundred-dollar bills that had flown out of the trunk of the Tercel.
“Heah, Tom! How are you?” Bev asked Sean. “This is my sister Belinda. I forgot to close the trunk, so she’s picking up my money. Some nice people in the store told us we should pick it up, so we don’t create even more of a traffic jam. I mean, look at the street!”
Sean and Hailey had precariously woven in and out of cars on their run over to the liquor store.
“Crazy, right?” Bev pointed to her twin, “Belinda, this is Tom. He manages the motel I was living in for awhile. What brings you to Eureka, Tom?”
“Miss Beverly Nichols; several items. Firstly, my name is not Tom. Secondly and thirdly, you are behind in your rent and you are a person of interest…” He stopped because Hailey elbowed him.
“Hi Bev; Belinda. I’m Hailey. Bev, you probably saw me up in Seattle, driving a big black SUV with my partner. We were staying at the same motel as you for a couple of weeks. Sean and I would like to sit down with you and discuss the events surrounding the death of the guy in the cemetery.”
Belinda looked at Bev. “Should we run?”
Her sister was holding a bottle of single malt Glenlivet whiskey in each hand. “I should pay for this first.”
Belinda watched as Bev went into the store. “Are you a reporter?” she asked Hailey. “And who is Sean?”
“This is my friend, Sean W. Johnson. You know Bev, she rather mixes things up at times. Sean is the manager of the Shady Rest Motel in Seattle, but he is also helping me with my investigations. You could call me a reporter of sorts.”
“Nope. Not buying it. My BS meter is indicating you’re full of it.”
“But it is true Miss Belinda, I am the manager of the Shady Rest Motel where you’re sister has not paid rent for April. As well, she has left much blood on the wall and has taken a side table.” Sean was extremely upset that Belinda thought he was lying and said in earnest, “These are not untrue things, Miss Belinda. Your sister sawed the chain in two and took a table. Even though she left many hundred-dollar bills behind, the FBI took most of them.”
Hailey groaned. “Sean, I elbowed you to stop you from mentioning the FBI. Now they’re probably freaked out.”
Belinda was. Bev was happier than a lark which was in no small part due to her recent purchases. She had a sense of security knowing she had not one, but two full bottles of the good stuff.
“I remember you! You came to me in a dream in the cemetery! Or was it real? We were singing!”
Sean smiled. “Miss Hailey like yourself, has a most spectacular singing voice.”
Belinda’s eyes kept darting from Hailey to Sean to Bev’s car. Things were getting serious if the FBI were involved.
“Nice meeting you all. We’ve got to go; we’ve got some serious drinking to do. Bye now.” Belinda started dragging Bev towards the car.
“If you don’t mind, could we pop over to your home and discuss some things?” Hailey asked as she put her hand heavily on Belinda’s arm.
“Sure come on over!” Bev sang out, “We’re rolling in the clover and we’ve got whiskey but alas, no one with which to get frisky!”
“Oh God, Bev, give it a rest. She just admitted she was in the cemetery with you. She could have killed the Serafino dude herself.”
First the suspension and now this? Hailey couldn’t believe how different the two sisters were. With Belinda in the picture things were going downhill fast.
Sean watched as the blood drained from Hailey’s face. He patted her shoulder. “Now you are knowing how I felt to be so insultingly accused. Do not worry Miss Hailey, we will figure this murder mystery out. Plus, the mail fraud and the kidnapping.”
Belinda grabbed a bottle from Bev, opened it and drank. “Let ‘s go,” she said, “but know this folks; I will hire the best lawyers in the world to defend my sister.” She looked at Hailey, “And if you lie about her, I will know. So don’t,” she finished lamely.
Belinda and her bottle hopped in the car with Hailey and Sean. She wanted to study Hailey while Bev went back in the store to get chips.
“May as well make this a party!” she said. When the liquor store cashier pointed out that they don’t sell chips; Bev bought a couple more bottles. After all, she was going to be entertaining guests and it wouldn’t be polite if they didn’t have their own bottles. As she held her bottles tight to her chest, something crunched. Ah! Instead of chips they could have soup!
***
Helen had made bail and was chain-smoking. She wanted to put a hit out on a certain Hailey Peterson, but Tony wasn’t answering his phone.
“Do I have to do everything myself?” she asked the pigeons outside the jail. The birds wisely did not answer but hopped a little further away. Helen realized the cops had kept her gun, so she phoned for a cab to take her home. She’d have a shower, get another gun from the safe and go hunt down that arrogant FBI agent.
But first, she had to stop by the store. She wanted to hand out some appreciation stickers in the morning huddle.
***
“I think you should drop the ‘Fettucine’ part of your name, Tony,” Luna said as she cut Tony’s hair.
They were at her chair in the ‘About Face’ Beauty salon. Tony had agreed the previous night to a makeover. Helen Percy had already phoned him about fourteen times, but Luna suggested Tony focus on himself for a change and ignore her calls and voicemails.
Last night at the storage unit, he had worked harder and faster with Luna’s encouragement then he had the previous month with Carmen and Serafino barking orders. Luna helped him to reach an amazing realization.
No one was counting the money.
Sure, they were hired to count the cash and discard the checks, but no one was keeping track of what was initially coming in the mail bags. The Napoleones; now just Carmen of course, had no idea what to expect each day from their charity scam
. All they knew was that the more and more money poured in every day. They trusted that dim-witted Tony would loyally report every cent.
“See,” said Luna as she held up a twenty-dollar bill last night, “Nobody knows that this came in the mail; only you and I and the person who sent it.”
“But Carmen will know,” Tony protested.
“How will Carmen know?” Luna patiently asked.
The wheels started to turn in Tony’s brain. “Only if I tell her,” he said slowly.
“Right Tony. How much money do you want?” She threw several twenties at him. “Is that enough?”
Tony thought about the things in his life that made him happy. He liked driving. He liked shooting a gun. He liked custom-made suits and flashy cufflinks.
“No that’s not enough. I want to buy my own car; Serafino gave me one of his, but I want my own. His is too small for me.”
“A new car? Here, take this.” Luna handed him a bag of banded fifties.
Tony reached for the bag but didn’t take it. “Won’t the machine have a total of all the money it counted? I mean…”
Luna smiled and interrupted her co-worker. “I know what you mean. Carmen will know that she is short. Good catch, Tony!” She reached around to a basket of uncounted cash. “No problem, take this instead.”
“What about the ten-thousand-dollar limit for deposits at a bank?”
Luna was thinking. “Look Tony, we are going to give you a complete makeover. You deserve it. Tonight, we will leave Serafino’s car behind and we will go buy you a new one tomorrow. I am sure that a dealership will not complain if you pay cash. Also tomorrow, you will come into my shop and I will cut your hair. Are you attached to that moustache and your goatee?”
Tony wasn’t. That’s why this morning Luna had shaved his face clean and was now putting argan oil in his hair. Tony was gaining confidence with each change Luna suggested, but now he was reluctant to change his name.
“Serafino always said that calling myself ‘Tony Fettucine Taylor’ made me sound like a bad-ass.”
Luna handed him a mirror. “I know you loved your cousin; but you are a new man now. You are Tony Taylor, a wealthy sophisticated man who is going to go pay cash for the SUV of his dreams.”
Tony Taylor looked in the mirror. He looked like a man now instead of a bumbling wannabe gangster.
With a thud, Serafino and all his advice on how Tony should dress, look, and talk fell off the pedestal it had been on.
Luna had taken his place.
Chapter Thirteen
“Margaret speaking; middle-aged Manager-in-training at the wonderful Shady Rest Motel in the heart of Seattle.”
“That’s quite the introduction Margaret. This is Suzanne, in beautiful downtown Eureka. Also middle-aged.”
“What can I do ya for, hon?”
“I’m looking to contact a tenant; I don’t know what room she’s in. Beverly Penelope Nichols. She owes me money.”
Margaret laughed a loud braying laugh. “The famous Beverly! You mean our former tenant! Everybody’s looking for her hon. Two of her boyfriends were looking for her but only one found her a couple of weeks ago. The regular manager is down in Eureka right now looking for her. The FBI were here and now they’re down in Eureka. How much is she into you for?”
Suzanne twisted up her mouth. “I’m not entirely sure; it’s complicated.”
“Just tell me this; is it enough to make you want to cash in your 401K, kill her and then hop the next flight to a non-extradition country?”
It was Suzanne’s turn to laugh. “Yes, it is, except I have to pay a penalty for early withdrawal and of course, taxes. On top of that, my employer will withhold a large percentage; so the cashing in my retirement fund isn’t the best idea.”
“Honey, killing somebody isn’t the best idea. Can you just walk away darlin’? I’m serious. Have you considered just walking away and starting over? Sometimes the fight isn’t worth it.”
“Like I said, it’s complicated. Serafino’s dead…”
“Oh; it was like that was it? This Serafino who’s all over the news, was your guy?”
Suzanne exhaled noisily. “I thought so but as it turns out, he wasn’t. He just used me to get to my boss.” There she had finally said it out loud. It stung. Suzanne added disgustedly, “He was in love with his wife.”
“The jerk!” Margaret said. “Imagine cheating on your mistress with your wife. The nerve. Look honey, you got a raw deal but you’re partially to blame, you know.”
“Well thank you stranger on the other end of the phone who doesn’t even know me.”
“I don’t know you? How about this sweetheart; I know you are connected to somebody powerful because the dead guy wanted you to, I don’t know, introduce them or something. I know you were fooled by this young good-looking guy. I know you still hurt. But seriously, girl; don’t do anything stupid like killing someone. Prison isn’t all fun and games you know.”
“Are you speaking from experience, Margaret?”
Suzanne could hear her take a drag of her cigarette.
“As a matter of fact I am. Manslaughter actually. Kind of a revenge thing. Hence my exalted position of manager in training at a sleazy no-tell motel at the ripe old age of fifty-two. Look hon, believe me when I tell you, right after you kill this Bev you are going to regret it. It’s going to seem like a bad dream, and you will find it hard to believe you made that choice.”
“Thank you, Mother. I’ll take it under advisement.”
“No need to get testy.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. But how can I walk away with the FBI investigating me for faking my kidnapping?”
“Hold the phone. Was the ransom paid to Bev?”
“Yes.”
“Honey, how much money are we talking about? Because I think I can help you find our little red-haired friend.”
Suzanne was curious. “Maggie; can I call you Maggie? What about this walk away business you were spouting two minutes ago?”
“Look hon, can I call you Suzie? I’d sell my own mother for a buck to get out of this place.”
Suzanne had worked with Vincent Millar for years and he was one greedy man. She had learned how to manipulate that greed to her advantage. Perhaps she could do the same with Margaret.
“What do you know that everybody else doesn’t know, Margaret?”
“Look Suzie, before I tell you, give me the figure for god’s sake.”
“Five hundred thousand dollars.”
“Damn. Okay, we are going into business together. Here’s part, only part mind you, of what I know. Despite my parole restrictions, I go over to Reno for a little gambling. So a couple of weeks ago, I’m in a casino washroom, um, washing my hands, yeah, that was what I was doing, and this guy comes running in with a duffel bag.”
“Okay and?”
“He looks like a mini version of Jake Gyllenhaal. The next thing I know he’s stripping off all his clothes!”
“How fortunate for you. How does this get me to Bev?”
“Just listen hon. So he takes off not only his clothes, but his moustache, eyebrows, beard and hair. And even his nose. Suddenly there’s a woman in front of me with flaming red hair.”
Suzanne gasped. “What? Was it Bev?”
“You betcha! But she was calling herself Belinda. She was drunker than a skunk and kept saying, ‘I gotta get out of here before they find me. I should never have taken a drink. I don’t want to be like Bev.’”
Margaret was pretty proud of herself. She had a big fish on the line and all she needed to do was reel her in. She added an extra shot of whiskey to her morning coffee and picked up the phone and said to Suzanne, “So hon, to find out what happened next is going to cost you. Say fifty percent of the ransom?”
Suzanne had already hung up.
A quick google search found Belinda Nichols located at 1104 Wayfare Road, Eureka California.
“Eureka indeed!” said Suzanne. She grabbed a piece of paper and
started to make a to do list.
“One,” she said out loud as she wrote, “Get a baseball bat and some rope.”
***
“Can we make a pit stop first?” Belinda asked Hailey.
“Can’t you hold it?”
“Not that kind of pit stop. I want to stop by the bank.”
Hailey decided she should do whatever Belinda wanted; after all, Belinda was not obligated to talk to her. Hailey smiled pleasantly in the rear-view mirror as she looked at Belinda. “Which bank?”
“I’m not entirely sure. It’s not stamped on the keys. I guess we’re going to have to try them all.”
Hailey had no problem going to every bank in Eureka. Banks were where money was kept and there was a lot of it to be recovered.
***
So Serafino was dead? Well good riddance! When Serafino came up to Seattle a little over two weeks ago Gary met him at a donut shop and handed Serafino the card Bev gave him just as Helen ordered.
Serafino had laughed.
“Since you’re a betting man; I’ll make you a little wager. I’ll bet that I can bed this Bev within one day of meeting her. No? You don’t want to bet me?” Serafino had smiled wickedly as he clenched and unclenched his hands. “Maybe you can help me out Gary. Tell me everything you know about Bev; and remember, this will help me win that bet you don’t want to place.”
Gary reluctantly told Serafino all he could remember about Bev. She liked to sing, cried a lot, was beautiful even when she was crying and hung out at the Tipsy Leprechaun. Plus she had that flash drive that looked like a flamingo.
“I think I’m going to like Seattle,” Serafino said as he leaned back in his chair. “I’ll have my wife and kids on one side, the mistress at the other and who knows? Beverly Nichols in the middle!”
Gary felt sick. As corny as it sounded, he felt a real connection with Bev. Now Serafino was going to swoop in and grab her.
“I’ll go with you,” he told Serafino.
“It’s your funeral. We’ll go after I phone my wife.”
Gary listened as Serafino told his wife he loved her, asked after the kids, and apologized because it looked like work was going to take longer than he anticipated. “Hopefully I can put everything to bed tonight,” Serafino said, as he winked at Gary, “but it looks like I might have to stay on for a week or two; Helen’s got a couple of nervous clients that need hand holding.”
Eating Cupcakes in a Cemetery Page 11
