“And you paid them well.”
“Yes, I did, because Morford paid me well.”
“Well, I just hope Elmo doesn’t get too nosey down there,” said Hadley. “If he finds the other rooms…”
“Some secrets are best kept.”
23 - MOVING DAY
Cynthia was driving Greg’s Bonneville, following her mother, who was following Greg in the U-Haul. They had loaded the truck with boxes and all the furniture Beverly wanted in her bedroom. They also took her dining table and chairs because they were much nicer than Cynthia’s. Two garage sales, one at each house, would allow them to get rid of the excess furniture.
Cynthia loved Greg’s car—mostly because it made her feel close to him. She was sitting where he sat, her hands holding the steering wheel he held with his hands. Hands that sometimes, during a long kiss, worked their way down her back to embrace her butt. How wonderful it would be to wake up next to him every day, and go to bed with him every night.
Her first husband had been abusive. But why hadn’t she seen it coming? Shouldn’t she have been able to recognize an abuser when she met him? She had been attracted to his big, lean body. The muscles were definitely a turn-on. Surely she had sensed danger just beneath the surface. He had gone into a rage once when they were dating. But even after he hit her that night, she went on with the wedding plans anyway. How foolish. Young women can be so naïve, she thought. We think we can fix whatever’s wrong with a guy.
But she was a little older now, and a lot wiser. With Greg, there was very little that needed fixing up. She would help him get in better physical shape. But even that was more about his health than his looks. And she knew that in the worst case scenario, she could live with him not being in optimal shape. Because Cynthia knew Greg’s feelings were sincere and deep. He truly cared about her in every way. He wasn’t just some guy trying to get into her panties. But he did want in—oh, did he ever. But not until marriage.
Cynthia wondered if Greg was going to pop the question soon. It seemed like he had nearly done it a couple of times already. But with her mother moving in, Greg might have put his wedding ideas on the back burner. She hoped not. They could make it work. Or, they might have to get another house…
**********
“This is a lovely restaurant, Lilman,” said Mallie Mae.
“Mother, you know I hate that name. Please call me ‘Elmo.’”
“Lilman was my grandfather’s name,” said Mallie Mae to Macy.
Macy nodded as though this was news to her.
“Okay, I’ll try—if you’ll start calling me ‘Mom.’”
Elmo couldn’t remember when their relationship had ever been ‘natural.’ He must have been close to her as a child. But if so, those childhood memories were long forgotten. “Okay …Mom. And I’m glad you like the restaurant.”
Elmo had been surprised at how normal his mother had been all day. If she was faking Alzheimer’s disease, she wasn’t doing a very good job of it.
“Very fancy,” said Macy, feeling a bit underdressed in the skirt and blouse she had worn all day at the zoo.
“Very expensive,” said Mallie Mae, perusing the menu.
“I like the live band,” said Macy.
“Yeah, they’re playing music from the big band era,” said Elmo.
Mallie Mae pretended to be reading her menu while she listened carefully to the conversation between Macy and Elmo. She had been observing them all day. They had clowned around a lot, and at one point, were throwing food at the monkeys—until a zookeeper made them stop. She had never seen Elmo act so childishly. It was refreshing.
After several hours of watching them interact, she had a revelation—Macy was the perfect match for Elmo. She had proved to be loyal and trustworthy. And Elmo was obviously crazy about her, although he didn’t seem to know it.
“I love this song,” said Macy. “Do you know the name of it?”
“Sure. I’m Getting Sentimental Over You. It was Tommy Dorsey’s theme song.”
Oh children, Mallie Mae thought—if you only knew how much the words of that song apply to you. Lilman had no business marrying Carsie. His eyes sparkled when he looked at Macy.
Once they had ordered, Mallie Mae said. “Well, Lilman? I mean, Elmo. Aren’t you going to ask this beautiful young lady to dance with you?”
Macy was caught off guard by Mallie Mae’s suggestion, and looked a little embarrassed.
“Well, sure. Macy?” He stood and extended his hand. “May I have this dance?”
Macy looked at Mallie Mae.
“Go on, Honey,” said Mallie Mae. “I’ll be fine.”
Macy stood and took Elmo’s hand, and they walked to the dance floor. But her elation turned to disappointment when the song ended before they could even start dancing. “It’s over.”
She turned to walk back to the table, but Elmo was still holding her hand. And he was not moving. She looked back at him.
“Don’t give up so easily,” said Elmo, in a sweet, playful voice.
The orchestra started playing another tune.
“There we go,” said Elmo.
Macy smiled at him. It was an uncensored smile, and she wondered if she had just given away the long-held secret of her heart.
And in that moment, Elmo finally realized her deepest feelings for him. He wondered how he had missed it all those years. He had always repressed his desire for her. After all, at 37, she was 19 years younger than Elmo. He was just too old for her. But that reasoning no longer rang true, since he was now engaged to a 30-year-old.
“What’s the name of this song?” she said.
“I’m in the Mood for Love,” he said, gazing into her eyes as though he had never seen them before.
Macy was so afraid she would wake up. What if it was just another dream? “I’m in the mood for love too,” she said.
Elmo smiled as he took her in his arms and began to dance with her. “It’s the name of the song.”
“Huh?” she felt slightly dizzy.
He stopped dancing, leaned over and spoke softly into her ear. “I’m in the Mood for Love is the name of the song.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m not.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead. The electricity he felt between his lips and Macy’s warm skin was so magnificent he was caught by surprise, then by guilt. He had a fiancée.
Macy’s entire body surged with emotion, and she nearly fainted.
Mallie Mae delighted in watching them on the dance floor. When the song was over, they returned to the table, talking and grinning.
“Y’all make a handsome couple,” said Mallie Mae, beaming at them.
Macy and Elmo were amazed by Mallie Mae’s stamp of approval. They were still smiling at each other when Elmo’s cell phone rang.
“Just ignore it,” said Mallie Mae.
Elmo glanced at the phone display and said, “It’s Carsie.”
Mallie Mae was perturbed by Carsie’s timing. Things had been going so well.
“Hi, Carsie,” said Elmo. “…No, we’re about to eat dinner. Then we’ll head home…Okay, Baby. I’ll call you when we get home…You too.”
“Sorry about that,” said Elmo to Macy and his mother.
Then he and Macy noticed that something was wrong with Mallie Mae.
“Mom, are you okay?”
“Mallie Mae?” said Macy.
Mallie Mae’s look of confusion morphed into fear. “I…I…wet…”
“Oh, no,” said Elmo.
Macy lifted the table cloth and looked underneath. Liquid was dripping off the sides of Mallie Mae’s chair, quickly forming several spots on the carpet.
“I’ll take her to the ladies room,” said Macy.
“Do you need help?” said Elmo.
“No, thanks. I think I can do it,” said Macy.
“I didn’t mean to,” said Mallie Mae. “I’m sorry.” She began to sob.
Macy helped her to her feet. “It’s okay. I
’m here to take care of you.”
Elmo watched as Macy walked his mother toward the restroom. She was holding Mallie Mae’s purse behind her as they walked, attempting to hide the large wet spot on the back of her dress.
The ladies room was empty.
“I can’t believe you did that,” said Macy.
“What? You think I wet myself on purpose?” said Mallie Mae.
“Well, you did it right after Carsie called, so I figured—”
“—hey, you know I don’t want her as a daughter-in-law, but I would never purposely humiliate myself in a crowded restaurant.”
“I’m sorry. What happened? Did you just start peeing without knowing it?” said Macy.
“I don’t know. I was just sitting there, and then suddenly I felt wet. I don’t even remember doing it.”
Poor Mallie Mae, Macy thought. She had faked Alzheimer’s to manipulate her son. Now, maybe she really did have it.
24 - JIGGLER KEYS
Freddy’s Fenders was a small used car dealership, located less than a mile from Jake’s house. Carnie left her car at Jake’s while she went down to give Freddy some business. She didn’t need a flashlight, thanks to the moonlight.
She was dressed in a cute little exercise outfit. She figured a sexy 29-year-old seen on the streets of Coreyville after dark might arouse suspicion. But not if Miss Sexy was jogging. Some wives might have to put their husbands’ eyes back in their sockets, but she didn’t mind that.
The sticks in her hands were not really sticks. They were poster tubes—one of which contained a large screwdriver. The ring of auto jiggler keys was in her pocket.
The tiny portable office building had not been portable in years. It had a small office, a bathroom and a little storage room. Once you were in Freddy’s office and he’d get between you and the door, you’d be hard pressed to escape without buying one of his junky cars.
A lamp illuminated the desk and little else, and a ‘Closed’ sign hung in the window. Most of the vehicles in the front lot had ‘$500 down’ scribbled across their sad faces. They seemed to sense they were past their prime—shined up to look their best despite their age. But Carnie had no interest in them. It was the dark blue full-size van that had caught her eye earlier in the day.
This is just too easy, she thought, as she reached into her pocket for the jiggler keys. The first key didn’t work. Neither did the second. She looked around to make sure there was still nobody watching. She tried several more. Key number six was the winner. She opened the door. Now she would use the screwdriver to pop the ignition and then work a little magic with the wiring and…
“Hold it right there,” said a rumbly low-pitched voice.
She turned around and saw Freddy himself—all 363 pounds worth, pointing a pistol at her.
“Hey, don’t point that thing at me,” said Carnie. “This is my van.”
“No, Missy, this is my van,” said Freddy. “And you are on my property, breaking into my van.”
Carnie started to cry. “But you don’t understand. When I broke up with Billy, he stole my van. I reported it to the police, but they haven’t done a thing to find it. So, I started searching all over Hallsville—that’s where I live. Then I looked in Marshall and Longview too. My sister’s been driving me all over the place trying to find it.”
“So, where is your sister?” Freddy looked around.
“She already left. I told her I would be fine, now that I found my van.”
“Well, I don’t care what you say. This van belongs to me and I have the paperwork to prove it. I’m calling the cops.”
“Oh, come on, Freddy. You are Freddy, right?”
“That’s right. And you don’t mess with Freddy or his cars,” he said as he flipped open his cell phone.
Carnie walked toward him.
“Stay back.” He pointed the gun at her head.
She ignored his warning and moved in closer and placed her hand on his chest and began to rub it lightly and gaze into his eyes. “Now Freddy, I’m sure we can work something out.”
“What are you doing?” Freddy was losing focus. He must call the cops, he thought.
Then she put her arms around his huge body. She still had a poster tube in her left hand.
Freddy was in a daze. When was the last time an incredibly sexy young woman put her arms around him and pressed her smoking hot body into his? Never. Was he still holding his cell phone? He wasn’t sure. And where was the gun? His hands were numb. But his arms were around her exposed midriff. He loved the feel of her smooth, tight skin.
Carnie removed the cap from the poster tube behind his back and pulled out the large screwdriver. She rubbed her breasts from side to side across his chest a couple of times, and said, “How’s that feel, Baby?”
“Don’t stop now,” he said.
“I wonder what would happen if I reached down into your pants?” she said, as she pulled back a little.”
Freddy didn’t speak. He just let his arms fall to his sides as she pulled away. Do whatever you want, Baby, he thought.
Carnie threw her right hand into the air.
By the time he looked up and saw the shiny, sharp object in her hand, it was too late to raise the gun or even step back. He was a dead man, and he knew it.
She thrust the screwdriver deep into his chest. She expected him to fall down, but he didn’t. For a moment she wasn’t sure she had hit the mark. He just stood there, dazed. Then he began to raise the gun.
She jumped toward him and grabbed the arm with the gun and tried to wrench it from his hand. But he twisted the pistol more and more toward her.
“Die, you fat butt!” she said, ripping her fingernails into his hand.
But her words made him stronger, more determined to kill her. Just a couple more inches over and he would blow a hole in her heart—if she even had one.
Carnie realized she was losing the battle. She could not overpower this bull of a man. She swung her right leg back like in high school. She had been captain of the soccer team. This one is for the win, she thought. She threw her leg forward with all her strength, and plunged her shoe up into his crotch. It was a kick that would have rocketed the ball way beyond the length of the field.
Freddy dropped the gun and his cell phone and rolled to the ground in excruciating pain. He was still breathing and moaning when she yanked the screwdriver out of his chest. The blood began to gush. He would be gone in a few seconds, she thought. Nobody would find the corpse until morning. She used his shirt to wipe off the screwdriver. Then she picked up the pistol. Too easy for the cops to get fingerprints off of it, she thought.
She climbed into the van, popped the ignition, started the engine, and drove to Jake’s house.
When she pulled into the driveway, Jake walked out to the van. “Where’d you get this thing?”
“From a buddy,” she said.
“A buddy?”
“Well, he was a buddy—for about a minute. Now he’s not. Get in.”
“Okay. Just a minute—I need to turn off some lights and lock the door.”
“Get in now!” said Carnie.
Jake walked around to the passenger’s side and got in.
“This thing stinks,” he said.
“You’ll get used to it.”
“Smells like your buddy used it to haul dead fish.”
“My buddy is a dead fish.”
Jake didn’t want to know what she was talking about, so he shut up.
Carnie pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot.
“Now, how are we going to pick up women here?” said Jake. “There’s a guard driving around the parking lot.”
“That guy on the little electric golf cart?”
“Yeah. He may be old, and he probably doesn’t even have a gun, but all he has to do is dial 911 and we’re in big trouble.”
“He’s not gonna be a problem.” Carnie parked the van.
“Here he comes.”
“Watch this,” she said, as she stepped
out of the van.
She waved to the guard as he approached.
He saw her, and drove to where she was standing. “Do you need help, Ma’am? Dead battery? Flat tire?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you. I just wanted to tell you I’m meeting both of my grandmothers here and taking them out for a fancy dinner. They think they’re coming to help me pick out some material for drapes. In fact, neither of them knows the other’s coming.”
“I see.”
“I hope that’s okay. Because I know we’re really not supposed to do that. You’re only supposed to park here if you’re shopping at Wal-Mart.”
The old guard smiled. “Well, Honey, don’t worry. It’ll just be our little secret.” He winked at her.
“Oh, you’re wonderful. Thanks so much.”
“No problem. Have a nice time with your grandmothers.” He drove away.
**********
“Well, at least everything’s out of the truck,” said Greg.
“Sorry about your garage,” said Beverly to her daughter. “I didn’t realize I had so much stuff.”
“That’s okay, Mom,” said Cynthia. “I don’t mind parking my car outside for a while.”
“Y’all getting hungry?” said Greg.
“I could eat a horse,” said Beverly.
“What did you have in mind, Sweetie?” said Cynthia to Greg. “I’m pretty grungy. I don’t think I’d want to go out to eat.”
“Why don’t we order pizza?” said Greg.
They agreed on a large pepperoni, and Greg pulled out his cell phone and walked out of the room to call in their order.
“Honey, would you mind helping me with my hair in the morning?” said Beverly.
“Sure, Mom.”
“I want it to fix it up nice for church. So, I really need to wash it tonight. When we finish eating I’ll run down to Wal-Mart and get some more of my shampoo.”
“You don’t need to go out tonight. I have shampoo.”
“No, Honey, there’s a special brand I use. It’s the only kind that works right for me.”
“Okay. I’ll go with you,” said Cynthia.
“Oh, don’t be silly. You just said you were too grungy to go out.”
Greg Tenorly Suspense Series Boxed Set Page 30
