Greg Tenorly Suspense Series Boxed Set

by Robert Burton Robinson

  “Would you buy that?” whispered Cynthia.

  “She needs acting lessons,” said Greg.

  They both wanted to laugh out loud, but they knew they’d be heard, so they fought it. Then the man groaned loudly, followed by dead silence.

  “I guess he bought it,” said Cynthia.

  They started snickering and nearly fell off the chair.

  “Let’s get away from this door,” whispered Greg.

  They ran to the bed and jumped in. It would be their best night of lovemaking since the honeymoon.

  And it wouldn’t be until the next morning that they would wonder if anyone had heard them.

  14 - HERMAN MABERLY

  Any time Herman Mayberly walked into the restaurant, the wait staff scattered. At 76, Herman was like an older John Wayne—but without the charm. Occasionally patrons would hear him in the kitchen clanging pots and pans, yelling at the top of his voice over something that wasn’t cooked according to his standards. He was a bull to work for.

  It was wonder he’d ever been able to hold onto staff people. Mostly they stayed around because of Angie. She always had a knack for making people feel good about themselves—in spite of their lousy situation.

  Angie liked to think that her father had once been a kind, caring man. But that was before she was born. She attributed his perpetual grouchiness to the loss of his 38-year-old wife while giving birth to their only child. He often said he could see Wanda every time he looked at Angie. And instead of bringing a smile to his face, it seemed to make him angry.

  “Where’s Angie?” he barked at a young waitresses.

  “I think she’s in her office.”

  Her office. Until a year ago, it had always been his office. He had begged Angie to divorce Clifford, promising her full control of the restaurant if she did. It was time for him to retire anyway. And when his daughter finally filed for divorce, Herman begrudgingly kept his promise. At least he tried to—unless he saw something that wasn’t being done right.

  “A couple of your waitresses look like teenagers.”

  Angie looked up from her computer. “They are teenagers, Dad.”

  “Well, that’s too young. You need mature women who know how to treat your customers—not some wise-cracking kids. In all my days of running this place I never hired any teenagers.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “What? I did not. Never.”

  “You hired one. Me. I started working here when I was twelve.”

  “I didn’t hire you. You worked for free.”

  “You upped my allowance.”

  “Okay, yeah. But that’s different.”

  “So, where you have been? I haven’t seen or heard from you in a few days.”

  “I told you where I was going. Don’t you ever listen? Me and Bob spent a couple of days up at Sam Rayburn.”

  “Oh. Well, yeah, you told me he invited you. But I didn’t think you would go.”

  “Well, I figured you don’t need me here anymore, so I might as well try to find something to keep me busy.”

  “Yeah, but fishing? I thought you hated fishing.”

  “I thought so too. But with Bob it’s kinda fun.”

  “Great, Dad. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  “So, what’s going on around here? Anything new?”

  “No. Not really. We had a little accident on the dance floor last night, but nobody got hurt.”

  “Well, why are you dressed up like that?”

  “Uh…I’m going to a party.”

  “On Sunday afternoon? What is it—a birthday party?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Anybody I know?”

  “Ralph Tenorly. He’s 75.”

  “Ralph Tenorly? That old codger?”

  “Old codger? Dad, you’re a year older than him.”

  “You don’t even know him, do you?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then why are you…” Suddenly it hit him. “Does this have anything to do with that grease monkey across the street?”

  “Dad…”

  “You’re going to the party with him, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. Now just settle down.”

  “I will not settle down! You know how much I hate that good-for-nothing bum!”

  “Come on, Dad—you don’t really hate Edsel.”

  “Yes, I do—and you know why!”

  “Daddy, that was years ago. Can’t you just finally forgive him?”

  “No. I can’t and I won’t!” He stormed out of her office.

  Angie checked the wall clock: 1:47 PM. She would finish up the payroll checks, and then walk over to see about Edsel. He was probably still working. If she didn’t make him to stop, take a shower and get dressed, they would be late for the party.

  **********

  Edsel was lying on the creeper under Mr. Jennings’ 1977 Coupe DeVille. He wasn’t sure how many times he’d made the loop around the Golden Triangle last night. He should have been sleepy. But there was no way he could accidentally doze off. Not today. His mind raced with thoughts of how he would tell Angie that he still loved her—that he had never stopped loving her.

  He imagined how she might react. There were several possibilities. But only one of them would be the correct reaction. If there was any hesitation on her part…or even the slightest hint of pity in her eyes, it was over. His dreams of happiness would never come true. But why dwell on the negative? He must tell her with confidence. If his whole world was destined to fall apart, so be it.

  He heard somebody open the shop door and walk in. Had to be Angie. Probably checking to make sure he was getting ready for the party. “I know what you’re gonna say. I should have already been in the shower by now. But don’t worry. I’m about to quit.” He quickly finished tightening the last bolt on the oil pan. “Angie?”

  She didn’t answer.

  **********

  “Looks like business is starting to slow down,” said Cindy Banya, sitting in a booth at The Biscuit with Craig Buttard.

  “Yeah, most of the church people come in between 11:30 and 1:00. By mid-afternoon it’s pretty much dead.”

  “What’s going on in the back room?” Cindy watched as a waitress walked by carrying a large electric coffee urn.

  “Somebody must be having a meeting or a party.”

  “I see.”

  A waitress brought their coffee and dessert. “Two coffees and two strawberry biscuit cakes.”

  “Surprised?” said Craig.

  “Strawberry biscuit cakes?” Cindy studied the dessert. It was one Buttard Biscuit, covered with fresh strawberries and whipped cream with a cherry on top. “I should have known it would have a biscuit in it.”

  “Taste it.”

  She frowned at him, and then picked up her spoon and sampled the dessert. “Not bad, actually.”

  “See. I knew you’d like it.”

  She took another bite. “Yeah, I hate to admit it—but you were right. It’s delicious.”

  “Good. And now that you know you can trust my judgment, I’ve got something else for you to try. And it’s also delicious.”

  She gave him a dirty look. “Funny. Is that all you think about?”

  “Well…yeah, when I’m around you. You get to me. You’re just so doggone sexy.”

  Cindy almost fell for it, but then caught herself. “Wonder how many times you’ve used that line. How many times, Craig?”

  He grinned slyly. “Oh, I don’t know…maybe a few hundred.”

  She lowered her voice. “You are such a tramp.”

  “Well, I’ve been called a lot of things, but—a tramp? Maybe in Russia that makes sense, but in the U. S. that word is only used for women—not men.”

  “It has nothing to do with Russia or America. You’d be a tramp in any country.”

  Craig lost his grin. “Hey.”

  “So, you don’t consider yourself a tramp?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Even though you’ve slept wit
h dozens of women?”

  “Well…”

  “But you want to turn me into a tramp. Right?”

  “No, no. You’ve got it all wrong.”

  “Really? Explain.”

  Craig liked Cindy more than any woman he’d met in a long time, but he knew he was on the verge of killing his chances with her. He reached across the table and held her hand. “Look, Cindy. I’m sorry. Sometimes I try too hard to impress people. I’m not really like this. It’s just an act.”

  Cindy looked into his eyes. She wanted to believe him.

  **********

  “Do you really think Norma needs our help? I hate to get there early when only she and my dad are there.” Greg pulled into the parking lot of The Buttard Biscuit Restaurant.

  “Why?” said Cynthia. “Because you’re afraid you’ll have to talk to your dad? You need to talk to him. There’s got to be a way for the two of you to get past this bitterness. And it’s sure not going to get any better unless you try.”

  They walked into the restaurant and headed for the meeting room, passing Cindy and Craig’s booth along the way. Greg recognized Billy-Eye’s older son. He wondered if the attractive woman in the booth with him knew about his reputation.

  “Hello. Happy Birthday, Mr. Tenorly,” said Cynthia as she rushed over to Ralph and gave him an unexpected hug.

  “Thanks.”

  Norma went to Greg and hugged him. “I’m glad y’all came early.”

  “We’re here to help,” said Cynthia. “What can we do?”

  A waitress walked into the room. “Are one of you Greg Tenorly?”

  “Yes. I’m Greg.”

  “There’s a call for you.”

  He followed her to the cashier’s counter. She handed him the phone.

  “Hello? This is Greg Tenorly.”

  “Greg…”

  Her voice was so shaky that he didn’t recognize it at first.

  “…there’s been a terrible accident.”

  Then he realized it was Angie Silverstern.

  “Edsel is in the emergency room.”

  15 - THE HOSPITAL

  Greg and Cynthia rushed into the Emergency Room waiting area.

  Angie peeked through the Emergency Room doors and spotted them. “Greg?” She stepped through the door and walked toward them.

  “Hey, Angie,” said Greg. “How’s Edsel doing?”

  “It’s not as bad it first looked. I thought he’d gone into a coma.”

  “What happened?”

  “He was working under a car and the jack gave way. The paramedics figured the oil pan must have hit him right in the chest when the car fell.”

  “So, what’s his condition?”

  “He’s got several fractured ribs.”

  “Ouch. Those are painful.”

  “Yeah. The doctor says he probably passed out from the pain. And he couldn’t move. He was pinned under the car.”

  “Did he ever wake up?” said Cynthia.

  “Yes, he did. But he was in such pain that they immediately gave him a shot of Morphine. They’re going to set up the automatic intravenous injections for him.”

  “What do they do for fractures ribs?” said Greg. “Surgery?”

  “No,” said Angie. “They just let them heal on their own. But it can take up to two months. And in the meantime all they do is treat the pain. The doctor doesn’t think there are any internal injuries, but he wants to keep Edsel in the hospital for a couple of days so they can watch him—just in case.”

  “Did you get to talk to him?” said Greg.

  “No. But he did see me, I think.”

  “How does the doctor know his ribs are fractured?” said Cynthia.

  “He pushed down on Edsel’s chest in several spots. Even I could tell when he found one. I’ve never heard Edsel scream like that before. It gave me the creeps.”

  “Any chance we could see him?” said Greg.

  “I’m sure you can—once they get him moved to a room.”

  “I’m sorry—I’m being rude,” said Greg. “Angie, this is my wife, Cynthia.”

  The two exchanged greetings.

  “Why don’t we go and grab a cup of coffee while we’re waiting,” said Greg.

  On their way to the cafeteria, Greg called Norma to give her a status report on Edsel. Ralph had not wanted to cancel his party since Norma had already paid for the meeting room, and would not be eligible for a refund.

  **********

  E. Z. Bender took the elevator to the fourth floor, and walked up to the nurses’ station. “Could you please give me the room number for Edsel Torkman? They told me he was being moved to this floor.”

  The nurse checked her computer. “They haven’t brought him up yet, but he’ll be going into Room 419.”

  “Okay. Thank you.” She walked down the hallway, searching for his room. Then she saw two orderlies pushing a bed through a doorway. When she got closer she saw the 419 numbering on the wall, next to the door. She watched as they transferred him into the room bed. He appeared to be out cold.

  The orderlies finished, and walked out of the room. E. Z. walked in and stood beside his bed. She studied the bag hanging at the head of his bed, wondering what the clear fluid was. Probably just saline, she thought.

  There was also an electronic box on a stand with a tube coming out of it that led to Edsel’s IV. The box made a noise, and she guessed it was pumping pain medicine into his body. But what if he got too much of the stuff? Was there any way to override the device and force an overdose?

  A nurse walked into the room. “How’s he doing?”

  “Okay, I guess. I don’t know.”

  The nurse began to check out her new patient. “So, is this your dad?”

  There was no response.

  The nurse turned around. E. Z. was gone.

  Greg held the elevator door open while Angie and Cynthia walked out onto the fourth floor. Then he continued to hold it until the young woman walked in.

  When they reached Room 419, the nurse was coming out. “You just missed your daughter.”

  “What?” said Angie, confused.

  “She just left. I’m surprised you didn’t pass her in the hallway.”

  “What made you think she was my daughter?”

  “Are you kidding?” The nurse smiled. “She looks just like you.”

  Angie was stunned.

  “Except for her long black hair,” said the nurse, walking away.

  Angie seemed to be in another world.

  Cynthia turned to Greg and whispered, “I didn’t know she had any kids.”

  “She doesn’t.”

  Finally Angie spoke. “I’m just trying to think who it could have been. I don’t have any friends or employees with long black hair.”

  “Why don’t we go in and sit down,” said Cynthia. She led them to the couch and chair.

  “I hate to ask the question,” said Greg, “but, is it possible that what happened to Uncle Ed was not an accident?”

  “What do you mean?” said Angie.

  “The jack that was holding up the car—it was one of those quick-release jacks, right?”

  “You don’t honestly think somebody deliberately tried to hurt Edsel, do you?” said Angie.

  “Maybe,” said Greg.

  “Does he have any enemies?” said Cynthia.

  “No. Everybody loves Edsel. Well, I guess that’s not true. But I can’t think of anyone who would want to hurt him.” Just as the last word left her lips, she remembered the argument with her father earlier in the day, and how he had stormed out of the restaurant after discovering Angie was going to the birthday party with Edsel. That had happened only a short time before she found Edsel. Her dad hated him—there was no question about that. But surely he wouldn’t try to kill him.

  Then she remembered the confrontation between Edsel and the two band members. One of them had long black hair! “I think I know who the woman was.”

  “The one the nurse was talking about?” said
Cynthia.

  “Yes. She and another woman came to the restaurant Saturday trying to force me to hire their group. They’re in that all-girl band that plays at Billy-Eye’s new place out on Highway 87. But why would she come here to Edsel’s room?”

  “To finish off the job?” said Greg.

  Angie panicked. She jumped up to check on Edsel. “Do you think she did anything to him?”

  “No,” said Cynthia, glaring at her husband. “The nurse was here. She wouldn’t have had a chance to do anything. Besides, he looks fine.”

  “Do you know if that band is playing tonight?” said Greg.

  “I think so. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights I believe.”

  Cynthia knew what Greg was thinking. She would be there with him to make sure he didn’t get himself into trouble. She turned to Greg. “Well, since he’s doing okay, maybe we should try to catch the end of your dad’s birthday party.”

  “But I don’t want to go off and leave Angie here alone.”

  “It’s okay. I’m fine. Y’all go on.”

  “Well, okay,” said Greg. He walked over to Edsel’s bed. “Fly the rain, Uncle Ed.”

  “Do you know what it means?” said Angie.

  “No. Do you?”

  She picked up her purse and took out her wallet. “He gave me this—years ago. It’s a poem he wrote during his senior year. They had to read them in front of the class. He told me his classmates were laughing out loud by the time he got to the end of it. But I think it’s beautiful.” She handed the small laminated card to Greg.

  He and Cynthia read it silently.

  I dreamed I was a speck of dust

  In a beautiful puffy cloud;

  A warm and comfy home forever,

  High above the ground.

  But then the darkness swallowed the light;

  The sky began to groan.

  And my mother ship spit me out

  On a raindrop of my own.

  But I was not alone in flight;

  I saw others on their rain.

  One hit a bird, died instantly;

  One collided with a plane.

  Right then and there I made up my mind,

  I wouldn’t let life just happen to me.