The Saucy Lucy Murders

by Cindy Keen Reynders

  His icy blue eyes got paler and wider, but he made no comment.

  “He was murdered a little over a month ago,” Lexie added.

  The master’s mouth worked open and closed, yet he still made no sound.

  “I heard Henry had put the moves on Sophie, and that’s why you moved away. To save your marriage.”

  The crowd grew impatient and Lexie heard them shifting restlessly. As for her, the wooden support around her neck was digging into tender flesh. She wanted out of this death box. Sooner than later. But curiosity outweighed discomfort.

  “Why did you come here?” Ernie the Magnificent’s nostrils flared and his face turned red as a tomato. “I don’t know anything about Whitehead.”

  “Did you recently make a trip to Moose Creek Junction to confront him? Did things get out of control?”

  “You’re out of your mind, lady.”

  “But—”

  Ernie whirled away from her, voice booming. “Observe if you will, ladies and gentlemen, the master’s greatest feat. This will amaze and astound you. Watch closely as I send razor sharp saws through my lovely assistant here, yet she will emerge unharmed.”

  Lexie realized, too late, that the particular moment she had chosen to confront Ernie the Magnificent about Whitehead’s murder was probably not the best. What if one of the razor sharp saws slipped? What if she became a grisly statistic in a sadistic magician’s act? Lexie’s heart hammered faster and she began to sweat buckets in the coffin.

  Ernie nodded to someone in the wings of the stage, someone not visible to Lexie. The music swelled. Her gut clenched like a twisted rubber band. “Ernie, listen to me. Don’t do this. I just want to get to the bottom of Whitehead’s murder—” Lexie cringed and sucked in a breath as Ernie brought one of the saws down into the coffin.

  Shhh-thunk. With deft movements, the master slid one of the wicked blades into place.

  Shhh-thunk.

  Lexie didn’t feel a thing. Maybe she couldn’t. She could be bleeding to death and no one would know. Is this what death felt like? Does death feel like … nothing?

  Shhh-thunk. The last blade slid into place.

  Tapping on the wooden surface, Ernie spun the coffin around a couple of times. Lexie wanted to vomit. She had not volunteered to have her brains scrambled. Or her limbs severed.

  “Ernie, stop it this instant! I’m going to be sick,” she shouted, her insides rising up in her throat. From her crazy, disoriented perspective, she could see Lucy in the crowd, her hands covering her mouth.

  Make him stop, Lexie wanted to tell her sister. He’s trying to kill me …

  Suddenly the lights went out and the crowd gasped. Lexie gasped, too. She gasped so hard she thought she’d swallowed her tongue for sure. Man, she was tired of having the frigging lights go out on her. When the lights went out, bad things happened.

  Finally the coffin quit spinning and came to a complete stop. Lexie heard Ernie, or someone, fiddling with the coffin in the dark. It sounded like the blades were sliding in the coffin again. There was the sound of a small explosion, and the lights came back on.

  Billowy white smoke stung Lexie’s eyes and made them water and she sneezed as she turned to look at the crowd.

  Parents were coughing and waving their hands in front of their faces while the younger crowd was shouting, “Wow,” and “Awesome,” and talking excitedly about what a cool guy Ernie the Magnificent was.

  Lexie didn’t think he was so cool. She was getting claustrophobia. Where the hell was he, anyway? She wanted out of this moldy crate. “Ernie, I don’t care how Magnificent you think you are. My assistant days are over. Ernie!”

  “Hey, lady,” one of the kids shouted, hands cupped around his mouth. “Chill out. Your coffin’s unlocked. Get out yourself.”

  As Lexie started pounding on the thing, Lucy stepped on stage and pulled on the coffin lid. It finally opened and Lucy helped Lexie crawl out of her tomb.

  Lexie shivered, brushing off her clothes. “Did you see where Ernie went?”

  Lucy shook her head. “No one did. After everything went dark there was a small explosion, then the lights went on and there was smoke everywhere. Ernie disappeared.”

  “Creep,” Lexie complained as they stepped away from the stage and regrouped in a small alcove full of magic books.

  “Did you find anything out?” Lucy asked.

  “Well, I’m pretty sure Ernie the Magnificent is Ernie Howell from Moose Creek Junction. But he sure didn’t want to talk about it. Acted scared to death. And when I mentioned Whitehead, he nearly went ballistic.”

  “Not too smart, Lex. Especially when the master had you locked up tight in his coffin. With saws, no less.”

  Lexie folded her arms across her chest. “Unfortunately, that occurred to me when it was too late.”

  Lucy glanced around the room as though she might see the master hiding behind the curtains or lurking in the wings of the stage.

  “What did you find out from Mrs. Magnificent? At least I’m assuming the woman at the counter is Sophie Howell.”

  “Oh, she’s Sophie Howell all right. And she confirmed she’s from Moose Creek Junction. There’s only one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “She claims she’s never heard of Henry White-head.”

  Lexie felt a lead weight in her stomach. “She must be lying.”

  “Probably. It appears neither Sophie nor her husband want to admit to knowing him. Makes them look a little guilty, don’t you think?”

  “Sure does.” Lexie thought for a minute. “Do you think it was a conspiracy? That both Ernie and Sophie had something to do with Whitehead’s murder?”

  “It also could be that one or the other murdered him and they’re covering for each other.”

  “People do strange things when it comes to affairs of the heart.” Lexie remembered how betrayed she’d felt when Dan left her for Davina Blakely. All those years of her loyalty and devotion down the toilet.

  Did Dan fall out of love with her and suddenly fall in love with Davina?

  That didn’t make any more sense than the idea that two people who had nearly divorced would reconcile and go out and kill the wife’s ex-lover.

  Why would they risk their futures on revenge?

  “This is a creepy place, Luce. Don’t you agree we’ve found out all we’re going to about Ernie How-ell and Sophie?”

  Lucy nodded. “Amen to that.”

  “Then let’s go collect Aunt Gladys.”

  Arm in arm, the sisters walked to the door.

  CHAPTER 7

  SUNLIGHT GLINTED OFF THE PINK STUCCO WALLS of the Mountain Shadows Rest Home, sprawling across an expanse of drying autumn grass like a crab in the sand.

  Standing in the parking lot next to her sister, Lexie shaded her eyes from the bright sun with one hand and studied the wrought iron fence behind the building. It enclosed a large, tree-filled yard where the residents probably took walks and possibly played pinochle on good days. And complained that no one ever came to visit them.

  A pang of sadness touched Lexie’s heart and she hoped Lucy wouldn’t see the emotion misting her eyes.

  Lucy, of course, all-knowing sister that she was, was not fooled one bit. “What’s wrong, dear?”

  Lexie knew better than to hide what she was feeling. “I was just thinking about Mom and Dad. I miss them. Especially this time of the year … when the accident—”

  “Happened,” Lucy finished for her. She sighed and took out a crisp, lacy-edged hankie and wiped moisture from her eyes. “I know, me too. Who would have thought a stupid rabbit crossing the road would end it all for them? “

  “I know. And Daddy would never hurt a fly so he must have swerved to miss it. If they’d only been wearing seatbelts.”

  “They never believed in them.” Lucy paused. “Look at it this way, dear; they’re at peace now. In a much better place than we are.”

  “But it’s not fair,” Lexie added softly, a quaver in her voice.


  “I know, dear. I know. Look at the bright side.” She nodded in the direction of the rest home. “We’ve still got good old Aunt Gladys.”

  They both moaned.

  “So, how about you and Otis put Aunt Gladys in your spare room? I’m too young to die.”

  “That’s not a good idea, Lexie.”

  This response from a woman who preached charity and compassion from sunrise to sunset? Lexie shook her head. “How in the world am I going to handle Miss Daisy-from-hell? She’s as squirrelly as a sack of cats headed up the river.”

  “The Lord never gives us greater burdens than we can handle,” Lucy returned.

  “I think He made a mistake this time. Nobody can handle Aunt Gladys.” Lexie hefted her purse on her shoulder. “We’d best go spring the grand old dame before she causes any more trouble.”

  Lucy looked heavenward, closed her eyes and said a little prayer. “Yes, let’s go.”

  As they walked at an uneager pace to the front doors of the retirement home, Lexie figured Lucy could sally forth with such conviction since Aunt Gladys wouldn’t be such a bother to her. What did she have to lose?

  “Why do I feel like we’re walking into the bowels of the beast?” Lexie asked.

  “Maybe because the last time we saw Aunt Gladys, she set Mom and Dad’s house on fire with sandalwood incense and tried to put it out with the garden hose.”

  Lexie laughed. “That’s right. And remember how most of their good silver and crystal disappeared along with a couple of family antiques?”

  “Yes, I do,” Lucy said.

  “Good gravy, Dad was pissed off,” Lexie added. “He never wanted Aunt Gladys to come and stay with them again. He couldn’t figure out how two sisters could be so opposite. Mom was always down-to-earth and calm, but he claimed Aunt Gladys was like a firecracker in a pork barrel.”

  Lucy ts, tsked. “You do have good insurance on your place, don’t you?”

  “Covers flood and fire,” Lexie said with a nod. “And hopefully, all the holocausts Aunt Gladys can conjure up. Don’t know about petty larceny, though.”

  “Say your prayers and keep your fingers crossed. Let’s hope it won’t be too long before Cousin Bruce comes to collect her.”

  “I won’t hold my breath,” Lexie said. “He’s 45 and still can’t manage to find his way home.”

  The sisters went inside and announced who they were at the front desk. A young lady named Rita assured them she would have a couple of attendants bring Mrs. Maplethorpe out to them right away and wouldn’t they like to sit and make themselves comfortable?

  Lexie studied the Navajo wall hangings and leather western art that filled the waiting area. Despite the décor, a persistent smell of disinfectant pervaded her nostrils—an attempt to mask something Lexie did not want to know about. The place made her feel weird. Like when your underwear twists up your crotch and you’re too embarrassed to straighten it out.

  Time ticked by and finally a serious-looking man, probably in his fifties, wearing tan Dockers, a button-down shirt, and striped tie approached them. “Pardon me, are you ladies Mrs. Maplethorpe’s nieces?”

  “Yes, we are,” Lexie informed him.

  His black and gray mustache twitched. “I’m Dr. Ravenwood, her physician. I’m sorry about the wait. I’m sorry to inform you your aunt is missing.”

  “Missing? As in gone?” How can that be?” Lucy produced a fan from her purse and began waving it madly.

  “Dr. Ravenwood,” Lexie said through clenched teeth, “aren’t the residents watched closely?”

  “Yes, they are. But I’m afraid Mrs. Maplethorpe managed to slip past our attendants.” He wrung his hands. “This is terrible and I hold myself completely responsible.”

  The sisters stared at each other, then at Ravenwood.

  Dr. Ravenwood’s mustache twitched again. “I can assure the two of you this type of occurrence is very rare.”

  Lexie folded her arms across her chest. “How long has Aunt Gladys been gone?”

  “The attendants saw her at breakfast, which is served at 8 a.m. every morning.”

  Lucy’s jaw dropped, and she quickly shut her mouth.

  “Two hours?” Lexie tapped her toe. “The woman’s been missing for two hours, and you just now realized she’s gone?”

  Ravenwood stiffened, as though someone had run a metal rod up through his doctor’s coat. “I assure you, we run a very reliable and reputable establishment. Despite our best efforts, on occasion mishaps occur.”

  “What are you doing to find Aunt Gladys?”

  “Several attendants are combing the grounds at this very moment.”

  “What if she’s not on the premises?” Lucy hugged her tapestry purse tightly to her bosom. “What if she’s out wandering the streets of Denver? Alone?”

  “Ladies, please don’t jump to conclusions. Rest assured your aunt couldn’t have gotten out the front door. We have video cameras monitoring the entrance twenty-four hours a day. The girls at the front desk would certainly have seen her. Right, Rita?” He nodded toward the counter.

  “Absolutely,” Rita-at-the-front-desk agreed. “Shelly and I would have stopped her from going anywhere.” She turned to answer the phone.

  “Your aunt has done this before. I’m sure we’ll find her unharmed.”

  “She’s disappeared before?” Lucy fanned even harder. “Oh, my.”

  Dr. Ravenwood clasped his hands behind his back. “She fancies the covered pavilions out on the grounds and that’s where we found her last time. Mrs. Maplethorpe claimed she was having a rehearsal for one of her Las Vegas reviews—”

  “Dr. Ravenwood, Dr. Ravenwood!”

  Everyone turned to the little old blue-haired lady in a flowered housedress and sneakers who shuffled up to them holding tightly to a cane. Her chin quivered and her bright green eyes met the doctor’s steady gaze. “Someone’s up and died out in the courtyard. It’s just awful.”

  “Oh, my.” Lucy grasped the arm of her chair so tightly her knuckles went white.

  Dr. Ravenwood put a hand on the elderly woman’s arm. “Now, Hazel, did you take your medication this morning?”

  She nodded excitedly. “I’m not seeing things, doc. Honest. And it wasn’t just me who saw ‘em. Bea and Norton saw, too. Saw ‘em out the game room window. Somebody’s layin’ by the fountain, dead as a doornail. I swear.”

  “All right, calm down now. You go on back and tell Bea and the others to return to their rooms. I’ll take care of everything.”

  Muttering to herself and shaking her blue curls, Hazel shuffled back down a hallway and disappeared.

  “You’ll have to excuse poor Hazel. She has delusional spells on occasion. She’s apparently had a little setback today.”

  “Mrs. Maplethorpe’s son completed most of the forms necessary to release her, and he’s given permission for you two to check her out. But there is still some final paperwork to be completed before your aunt can leave.” He nodded in the direction of a sheaf of papers on the counter. “While you ladies take care of it, I’ll check on the … ahem … person in the courtyard.”

  “But what about Aunt Gladys?”

  Ravenwood acted like he didn’t hear Lexie’s question as he exited out a pair of glass doors onto a flagstone patio.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” Lexie muttered incredulously. “Cousin Bruce was paying out the nose for this place, and they misplace their patients?”

  “Excuse me, ladies,” Rita-at-the-front-desk said. “Could I have one of you sign these forms?”

  “I’ll go look for Aunt Gladys while you John Hancock the paperwork,” Lexie said to Lucy.

  As Lucy walked up to the counter, Lexie slipped out the glass doors, walked across the patio and descended a set of wide stone steps. Hearing Dr. Ravenwood’s agitated voice she paused, noting it seemed to be coming from behind an arbor filled with dry, crumbling roses and vines.

  Lexie hustled around the arbor and stopped mid-stride.

>   Aunt Gladys lay on the ground, her cap of snow-white curly hair pressed against the lawn. She wore a tiger-stripe caftan, pink flowered flip-flops, black beads the size of walnuts, large hoop earrings and large black frame glasses. Her powdered and heavily made up face was still as a corpse’s.

  Uprooted golden and russet-colored Chrysanthemums lay around her in an oval, coffin-like shape. Lying extremely still, the old lady clutched a mum-bouquet in her red-nailed grasp, her eyes shut against the warm autumn sun, a mischievous grin tilting her plump, ruby-colored lips.

  Dr. Ravenwood folded his arms across his chest, his expression stern. “For the second time, Mrs. Maplethorpe, get up. The ground is wet and you’ll catch a cold.”

  “I’m dead. Leave me alone.”

  “You can’t stay out here. You’re upsetting everyone.”

  She opened one eye and peered at the doctor. “Why? You’ve killed me with all your stupid rules and regulations. A body can barely breathe in this concentration camp. You Nazi fascist pig, you.”

  “You have got to get up. Your nieces are here to take you home.”

  “And make me leave my Herman? I’m in love with him, you know. The only man I’ve ever loved,” she added theatrically.

  Lexie couldn’t help but grin. Aunt Gladys had had seven husbands in her lifetime. She’d proclaimed true love for each of them and went through extensive grieving periods whether they died or she’d divorced them. Yessiree, Aunt Gladys was the queen of drama queens.

  “This rotten flea-bag of a place is standing in the way of our true happiness.” She opened her eyes wide and harrumphed loudly. “Nazis, Nazis, Nazis, all of you. Ach! Next thing I know you’ll be herding all of us into a gas chamber!”

  “Good heavens.” Lexie ignored Dr. Raven-wood’s scowl, pushed past him, and kneeled beside her aunt. “It’s nice to see you, Aunt Gladys. It’s been a long time.”

  Aunt Gladys’ brown eyes opened wide. “Who the hell are you?”

  Lexie blinked, a little taken aback by Aunt Gladys’ vehemence. “Your niece, Aunt Gladys. Lexie.”

  Aunt Gladys’ painted brows drew together. “My sister’s girl? Leslie? All the way from Moose Creek Junction?”