It's a Wonderful Knife

by Christine Wenger

  “You were taking a picture of me. I want to know why.”

  How could he see me? I thought that was a one-way window!

  Wrong again, Trixie.

  He kept flexing his hands into fists. Because he wore black leather gloves, it looked like he had on boxing mitts. I could smell cigarette smoke clinging to him and his clothes, and his teeth were yellow. It looked as though he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days.

  I swore, if he punched me and my temporary cap flew off . . .

  “Look, Roger, I love the snow, and the sun was glinting off the snow just right, so I thought I’d take a picture,” I lied.

  “There’s no sun out there.”

  “There was for a while.” More lies, and during the holiday season, too.

  He swore under his breath. “Look, I don’t want to get involved with another . . . I mean, I . . .”

  He shook his head and turned with a squeak of his boots, and I let what he’d said sink in. Roger must’ve been involved with Liz! I wondered what he meant by “involved,” though. Romantically? Business-wise?

  I guessed I’d have to find another way to get a picture of Mr. Congeniality and find out how involved he and Liz actually had been.

  As I looked around for something to do—anything—I decided to take a little stroll down the hall to the ladies’ room and eavesdrop at the parlor door. Why not see if I could hear what Ty was talking to the Robinsons about?

  I was extra-careful to make sure that my crutches didn’t make any noise, so slowly I went down the hall, stopping at the thick brown oak door.

  I could hear Ty’s deep voice. “I’m impounding Liz’s car. Someone from Clem’s Garage will hook it and take it to the impound lot. They’re apparently short of help, so I don’t know when they’ll move it. I’m going to be taking her computer with me when I leave. Now, what about yours, Darlene?”

  “Oh, no! Liz never, ever used my computer.” She sounded stressed and a little too loud. “It only has my things on it, and I need it all.”

  “Sorry, Darlene. I’ll bring it back as soon as possible,” Ty said.

  “But I have a church to run!” said Darlene.

  “My dearest, don’t you mean that we have a church to run?”

  “Of course, Fritz,” she shouted, then lowered her voice. “Of course that’s what I meant.”

  The usually good-natured Darlene was showing another side of her personality, and I wondered what about Ty’s taking her computer was making her so anxious.

  “Pastor Fritz, what about your computer?” Ty asked.

  “I don’t own one.”

  “Thank goodness for Liz when you had her! Right, Pastor?” Ty asked.

  Pastor Fritz chuckled. “Exactly.”

  “I’d also like to talk to Roger,” Ty said. “Is he around?”

  “No. He’s not,” Darlene said quickly. “He went to the hardware store for a few things he needed.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to yell that he was out front shoveling snow, but that would give away my spying.

  I meant my accidental overhearing.

  “I think that’s all for now. Thank you for your time. See you tomorrow for auditions.”

  Oops. I knew I needed to disappear. I made my way farther up the hall to the ladies’ room, then turned when I heard the parlor door opening. That way, it would look like I was returning from the ladies’ room.

  “Hello, Trixie,” Pastor Fritz gushed over me, shaking my hand and then hugging me to him. “Here’s my sweet volunteer!”

  I didn’t think anyone had ever called me sweet in my entire life.

  Ty raised his eyebrows. I could tell he suspected I was eavesdropping.

  Darlene shooed away Pastor Fritz. “Let her walk, Fritz. You’ll knock her over.”

  We all walked to the front of the building. I turned left and the Robinsons saw Ty out.

  Missing in action was Mr. Congeniality as well as the church’s van.

  As I sat back down in my chair and waited for Darlene to return to give me something to do, I couldn’t help wondering whether Darlene actually thought that Roger was at the hardware store or if she was lying to Ty for some reason.

  If she was lying, what, if anything, did Roger know that Darlene didn’t want Ty to know?

  • • •

  Just after Ty packed up the two corn silos, the Robinsons sent me packing, too. Ty volunteered to drop me off at the Big House.

  “If you can stand being in the same car as me,” he said. “I might arrest you again.”

  “Seems like I don’t have a choice, since I’m being kicked to the curb by the Robinsons.”

  But I was over Ty’s arresting me. Well, maybe not.

  The only one at the Big House was Antoinette Chloe. She was cleaning the kitchen, which looked like a flour factory explosion.

  According to her, Aunt Stella, the Boca Babes, Ray, and Bob had left to set up the bridal shower for Louise McDowney.

  “How did everything turn out?” I asked.

  “Perfect. The appetizers turned out beautiful, and Bob certainly knows what he’s doing with the roast. The Christmas cookies looked . . . well, Christmasy, and Juanita decorated the rum cakes with red and green maraschino cherries, dusted grapes, and whipped cream. You should have seen it. I took pictures.”

  “Got any extra cookies?” Ty asked, bending over to pet Blondie, who had swooned at his feet, turning over on her back for him to rub her belly.

  For heaven’s sake, Blondie!

  ACB crossed her arms. “I don’t know if we have extra cookies. Are we speaking to you?”

  Ty nodded, grinning. “Yes, you are.”

  She looked at me for clarification, and I shrugged, deciding to continue the teasing. “Well, he’s a neighbor, and we’ve been friends a long time. He’s also my best customer at the Silver Bullet. I guess we can feed and water him. We’ve done it forever. Why stop now?”

  “It still goes against my better judgment.” ACB unstuck her eyelashes with an index finger. “Anyway, we have dozens and dozens of cookies left, Ty. The Boca Babes got carried away. Finally I had to unplug the mixers.” She laughed. “Both of you, sit down, and I’ll get them. The coffee is fresh, too.”

  “I wish I could do something to help you,” I said, collapsing into an oak chair at the table. It felt good to sit down after the exhausting walk from the car on a snowy sidewalk and up the slippery stairs.

  Still, it was difficult for me to sit while someone waited on me, and I didn’t realize I’d sighed until Ty called me on it.

  “Hard day at work, Trixie?” Ty asked sarcastically.

  “The two hours I was there? Yes, it was grueling.”

  “Are you going back tomorrow?”

  “Of course. I should be busy,” I said confidently, even though there weren’t any computers there.

  “I don’t know about that. Pastor Fritz told me to let you know that you won’t be needed.”

  “He did?”

  Ty helped ACB by bringing the coffee mugs to the table, and sat down opposite me. “Uh-huh. When we were loading the computers into my car.”

  “Why didn’t he tell me himself?”

  He chuckled. “I think he’s scared of you.”

  “Very funny, Deputy Brisco.”

  ACB set down a Christmas platter piled high with an extraordinary assortment of beautifully decorated cookies. Sitting down, she crossed her arms. “Tell me, Ty, how was your day?”

  “Passable.”

  “Did you make any headway on your investigation?” she asked.

  “Not really.”

  “Are you going to check further into Roger Southwick? I just have a bad feeling about that guy,” I said.

  “Yes. I know your feelings about him. He isn’t sociable, and that is a capital crime in your
book.”

  “He doesn’t take off his boots either. He should have a working knowledge of winter etiquette, unless he’s not from New York.” I baited Ty to see if he’d tell me if Roger was a native New Yorker.

  “Doesn’t take off his boots?” Ty snorted. “That’s a hanging offense in Sandy Harbor!”

  “It shows politeness, and Roger Southwick just isn’t polite.”

  “Yeah, but can you see him plunging a knife into Liz Fellows?” ACB asked.

  I thought for a while, then nodded. “If she ticked him off enough. The man seems to have a short fuse.”

  Ty looked thoughtful.

  “I don’t know if he seems to be the type to toss Liz’s home. Is he?” I knew that Ty would have run a rap sheet by now.

  “You know I can’t tell you that,” he said.

  “Did Roger and Liz have a relationship?” I asked.

  “You know I can’t tell you that either.”

  “Are you going to search his residence?” I asked.

  He took another cookie and studied it. “I have no reason to get a search warrant on anyone’s residence at this time.”

  That sounded like a press release.

  “Ty, he was on the grounds shoveling when Darlene told you he was at the hardware store. It crossed my mind that she didn’t want you talking to him.”

  “Were you eavesdropping, Trixie?” Ty asked. “I don’t remember you being present when this was discussed.”

  “I must have been,” I mumbled, “or how else would I know this?”

  “Just what I was wondering myself.” He raised both eyebrows.

  Roger was going to be my next project. I was going to find out if he had a relationship with Liz or not.

  First, I was going to find out where Roger Southwick lived and where he came from. He wasn’t from Sandy Harbor.

  I knew that there were at least three apartments located near where the Robinsons lived. They were built for visiting religious dignitaries or for people in need. I also knew that there was a separate door leading to this area off the back entrance.

  I would’ve bet my recipe for rum cake that Roger lived in one of those apartments.

  If I could find the right opportunity, I might just find the key and check out Roger Southwick’s apartment.

  And I’d had a scathingly brilliant idea earlier. The Community Church needed a couple of laptops as a donation, and I was going to donate them. That would get Darlene back on the project Liz started and give me an excuse to hang around and help.

  I’d phone Ray when Ty wasn’t around, give him my credit card, and tell him to get two laptops that were just like Liz’s. Thank goodness I remembered to take down the make and other details before Ty had taken it away.

  There was banging on the door, and Antoinette Chloe jumped up to answer it, still talking to Ty as she walked to the door.

  “Oh my!” I heard her say. “Won’t Trixie be surprised?”

  “What? Who?”

  There was a lot of shushing and whispering, and I was on the edge of my seat.

  When they walked into my kitchen, I burst into tears.

  It was Rose and Jack Matkowski.

  My parents!

  Chapter 9

  “Mom . . . Dad . . . what are you doing here?” I asked, giving and receiving hugs.

  “We got a call that you needed some help,” Mom said. “How are you feeling, honey?”

  “I’m okay. I wish I could do more, but luckily I have help. Aunt Stella is here with her friends from Boca, and my staff is doing double and triple duty. And the missing Bob has returned. He’s been invaluable.”

  “Fabulous! It’ll be great to see Stella,” my dad said. Aunt Stella was his sister-in-law.

  I was glad to see them but hated that they’d interrupted their retirement in Tucson. They were entrenched in the culture of the over-fifty-five crowd in Cactus Wheels, a motor home community: golf, pickle ball, rallies, potluck dinners, dances, and more.

  They loved it there.

  “Who called you?” I asked.

  “Clyde,” Dad said. “We have an agreement that if anything happens to you, he will call me.”

  “Oh? I hope he’s not calling you a lot,” I said.

  “Let me just say that you’ve been very busy!” He wagged his finger at me. “How about some introductions, Trix?”

  “Where are my manners? I was just so excited to see you both!” I hadn’t seen them since Uncle Porky’s funeral about three years ago.

  “You might remember Ty Brisco. He’s a deputy sheriff here. He used to camp in cottage six with his father and grandfather and fish nonstop.”

  They both shook hands. “I couldn’t pick you out of a lineup, Ty. You’ve grown a bit!”

  My mother reached up to hug him. “I remember you. You loved root beer and pepperoni.”

  He laughed. “That was me.”

  “And, Mom and Dad, you remember Antoinette Chloe Brownelli. She goes by the name of Brown now. Since I moved here, she’s been a great friend.”

  “I know your mom and dad. Sal, my ex, and I used to double-date with them all the time,” ACB said.

  I’d forgotten that ACB and my parents were about the same age.

  “I am sorry about Sal’s incarceration,” Mom said.

  ACB grunted. “Don’t be. He tried to kill me.”

  Thank goodness she hadn’t mentioned that Sal had tried to kill me, too, or my folks would never leave my side, no matter what my age was.

  My mom put her arm around Antoinette Chloe. “I heard about that. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She sniffed. “But I’m getting along fine. Trixie and I have had many fun adventures together.”

  “Too many,” Ty added sarcastically.

  ACB gave him a pointed look that meant not in front of her parents. Then she turned to me. “I’ll clear my things out of the front bedroom and get the room ready for your parents.”

  I’d never thought of that! With the Busy Boca Babes staying there and Aunt Stella, where was I going to put my parents?

  “We won’t hear of it!” Mom said. “We drove up in our motor home. We’ll stay in that.”

  Dad nodded. “Forty-five feet of bliss with all the conveniences of home on eight wheels. It’s parked in the parking lot in front of the house. Is that all right, Trixie?”

  I remembered another motor home parked out there not too long ago. I shuddered, but then dismissed the thought.

  “Perfectly fine, Dad.”

  “Great. Now what can we do to help you out?” he asked.

  “Nothing right now. Aunt Stella and the Busy Boca Babes are at a bridal shower that I had scheduled. The only thing that needs to be done, and we can do it tomorrow night, would be fresh salads and an entrée for the ongoing Christmas pageant auditions at the Community Church.”

  I looked at my mother. “It was already prepared once, but it went to another event.”

  “Why? What do you mean?” Mom asked.

  “I’ll tell you over some tea and Christmas cookies,” I said. “If there are any left after Ty gets through.”

  I put on a stern expression, but I actually loved it that he enjoyed coming over and eating. They say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and Ty’s stomach was flat. And when he ran without his shirt on, I could see rock-hard abs. And then there were the muscles in his arms, and when he . . .

  But I didn’t notice.

  Ty stood. “That’s my cue to leave. I have a lot of things to do. Nice to meet you both.” He shook hands with my father and gave my mother a kiss on the cheek. “See you both later.”

  My mother watched him go, and I just knew what she was thinking. “He’s a nice young man, Trixie. Is he available? I didn’t see a ring.”

  Of course my mother would not
ice that.

  I shook my head. I was still shell-shocked from my divorce from Deputy Doug of the Philly sheriff’s department.

  “We’re just friends,” I said.

  My mother looked at ACB for verification, but she was busy slathering on Entrenched in Scarlet, a new lipstick that she’d wanted me to try, but it was way too . . . scarlet.

  “They’re just good friends,” she said as she wiped some lipstick off her teeth. “But sometimes I think that Ty wants to be more.”

  Since when did she think that?

  Was it true? My heart did a little flip in my chest, or maybe it was just too much coffee.

  But ACB’s statement was like waving a checkered flag at Indy. My mother was off and running.

  “Isn’t that nice?” Mom said, practically singing the words. “A new relationship would be good for you, Trixie.”

  “Antoinette Chloe,” I said to change the subject. “Can I bother you to put on another pot of coffee for my parents?” I turned to them. “Would you like something to eat? I could order from the diner and have Ray bring it over. I need to talk to him anyway.”

  “Sounds lovely. I’ve been dying for Juanita’s meat loaf,” Mom said.

  “So have I,” Dad added. “For three years.”

  “Consider it done.” I reached for my cell phone. “How about you, Antoinette Chloe?”

  “Just a chef salad with Thousand Island dressing and crumbly blue on top. Oh, and have them add ham and chicken to the salad. No, have them put the ham and chicken into a long roll with the dressing and lettuce, tomato, and onions. And skip the salad.”

  That was ACB.

  I phoned in the order, I added the same sandwich for myself, and asked that Ray bring it over.

  A half hour later, after we got into the Christmas cookies, there was a knocking on the back door. As expected, it was Ray with our order.

  I introduced him to my parents, and they shook hands.

  “Ray, can you join us for a while?” I asked.

  “I can’t, boss. The Silver Bullet is packed. Some snowmobile club is there—about fifty of them. Juanita and Bob said that I should stay at the diner and help there, and that I wasn’t needed at the shower, since the Babes were on it.”

  That was a good decision. I would have done the same thing. It made me feel more relaxed that my diner was functioning perfectly fine without me.