by Marja McGraw
The ladies left the table and walked outside, but the waitress lingered, watching them walk away.
“If that was my mother,” she said, “I’d have the doctor check her over. She was telling us the wildest story about someone trying to kill someone else and hiding in a camper so she could follow a man. My grandmother lost her mind toward the end, and she used to make up some whoppers, too. Old people just haven’t got much sense.”
Our waitress had walked up and listened, nodding her head in agreement. “Not one lick of sense. Getting old is a terrible thing. Senility must be setting in.”
“Sorry to burst your bubble,” Chris said, “but she wasn’t making up a story. In fact, she’s probably saner than you two. And she isn’t our mother, but if she was I’d be proud of her.” I was surprised to hear him sticking up for Addie. I knew the Church Ladies were getting on every one of his nerves.
“Is that our check?” I asked, glancing at our waitress’s hand. I had a feeling it might be a good time to take a hike.
“Oh, yes.” She handed it to Chris.
He pulled out his wallet and counted out some money. Slapping the check and cash on the table, he walked out of the restaurant without another word. This was a side of Chris I very seldom saw.
“Ladies,” I said, working my way out of the booth, “there’s a lesson to be learned here. Never talk about one customer to another customer, and never cross the Bogey Man. He may have a lot of bad habits, but loyalty is most certainly one of his best traits.” I followed Chris out the door with the two women’s voices buzzing behind me.
“Sometimes you surprise me, Chris. What made you stick up for Addie? I mean, you could have just let it go.”
He shook his head. “Just because she’s old doesn’t mean she’s lame-brained. Someday those women are going to be old, too. I hope someone talks nicer about them than they did about Addie.”
I slipped my arm through his and we strolled toward the Chevy. The ladies were standing behind it, heads bowed, saying a prayer for Vic, whoever he was. Chris and I waited in the car.
The ride home felt shorter than the one we’d taken to go pick up Addie. There was just enough room in the old Chevy for the six of us. Addie sat in front, between Chris and me, and before too much time passed she nodded off. She’d been through quite a lot in the past twenty-four hours.
The other three ladies sat in the back and talked in hushed tones.
“Why do you think she really climbed into the back of that camper?” Chris asked.
“I think she was absolutely honest with us. I think she felt that someone needed help and it was her obligation to be the helper.”
“You mean like a Good Samaritan?”
“Something like that. These women are pushy, and they want everyone to become a believer like they are. Their intentions are good. But whether they get on a person’s nerves or not, they’re always there if someone needs them. And I’ve never heard them complain about helping out – not even once.”
Chris smiled. “You actually remind me a little of them, cupcake.”
“Yeah, like I never complain about anyone or anything.”
“Not very often.”
When Addie woke up, we talked to her about staying at Jasmine’s house until the thin thug with a droopy mustache could be located. It took some fast talking, but we finally convinced her. We drove by her house and while she put some things together, Chris and I walked over to Elsie’s to let her know we’d found Addie. We also wanted to let her know that Addie would be gone for a few days.
Chris knocked on the door and it opened an inch, just like the night before when I’d approached her, but there was something different this time. She looked Chris up and down, slammed the door, pulled off the chain, and opened it wide.
“Well! I never,” she said. “Look at you. If I didn’t know better I’d think Mr. Humphrey Bogart hisself was visiting me today.”
She briefly glanced at me.
“Hey, Pamela. Who’s this hunka man?”
I laughed. “Elsie, this is my husband, Chris Cross. I call him the Bogey Man, and obviously you can see why.”
“Come on in,” she said, taking Chris’s arm and pulling him inside.
I could see by Chris’s face that he didn’t know what to make of the little gnome-like woman.
Elsie glanced over her shoulder, looking at me. “You come on in, too.”
I followed Chris and Elsie inside and took a seat on the couch. Chris sat next to me and Elsie sat on his other side.
“Isn’t this cozy,” she said. “What can I do for you today? I saw you walking Addie to her door, so I know you found her. Where’s she been?”
“In the back of the camper you told me about,” I said.
“She’s going to stay with Jasmine for a few days,” Chris said. “If I leave you our phone number, would you call us if that stranger comes back?”
“I will, but no matter how much you look like Humphrey, you sure don’t sound like him.” Elsie sounded disappointed, and I knew that’s all it would take for the Bogey Man to put in an appearance.
“Listen, dollface, we gotta get the goods on this goon. It sounds like maybe he’s been hired to turn some Good Joe into buzzard bait. We gotta find him first and make sure he goes to the slammer.”
Elsie smiled. “Well, I’m the dame for this job. They don’t call me Ol’ Eagle Eye for nothin’, buster. If he shows his schnoz around here again, I’ll use my wooden nickel to pick up the phone and… And… Aw, shoot! I can’t think of something snazzy to say about calling you.”
Chris turned to me. “Say, angel, this cupcake is aces with me.”
“Okay, you two,” I said. “Elsie, if he shows his face around here you’ll call us. Right? You won’t try to talk to him or anything? Right?”
“Okay, if that’s all you’ll let me do.” She didn’t really sound disappointed about being told not to confront him.
Chris wrote down our phone number and handed it to her, and she walked us to the door.
“Now, Bogey, don’t let those loony women talk you into anything crazy – like going to church or something. They’ll do their best, you know.”
“Hey, wait a minute,” I said. “I go to church. Does that mean I’m crazy, too?”
Elsie knew I was joking with her. “Not now, but wait ‘til you’re their age and then we’ll take another look.” She glanced at the floor before looking back at me. “No, they’re not really all that bad. I just like to give them a hard time. I’m as harmless as they are, and it brightens my day to pick on them. I actually kind of like them, truth be told. Don’t you dare tell them I said that though.”
Chris nodded his head. “Yep, I like you, Duchess.”
Jasmine was helping Addie with her suitcase when we walked back to the car. Chris took it out of Jasmine’s grasp and opened the trunk, gently laying it inside and closing the lid.
We drove back to our house where Jasmine picked up her car, and the Church Ladies left.
I glanced at my watch. “It’s after three o’clock. We need to go pick up Mikey.”
Chris nodded.
We’d called Phyllis while we were on the road, our Marilyn Monroe look-alike waitress, and asked her to open the restaurant if we weren’t there in time. It meant going in a little early to set things up, but she didn’t mind. It also meant overtime to her.
I hurriedly changed into my forties clothing, this time opting for a simple blue day dress with buttons down the front and puffed sleeves. With time in mind, I wore my hair down instead of taking the time to style it.
“Let’s take Sherlock and Watson with us. Maybe they’ll distract Mikey. If I know my son, he’s going to ask questions. I don’t think he quite believed the story we gave him.”
Chris walked through the house and picked up the dogs’ leashes while I waited in the backyard. The Labs were very happy to see us and it took a few minutes for them to calm down. Then I made the mistake of saying, “Let’s go bye-bye,” and
we had to calm them down all over again. I’d found that sit and down are good commands to distract them. We were on the road within ten minutes, even with all the excitement.
When we arrived at Constance’s house, Mikey needed distracting, too. He’d been waiting for us with questions. Chris took him outside with the dogs while I talked to my friend.
“As soon as you and Chris left, he started asking me what was really going on. He didn’t believe your cover story for a New York minute.”
“I’ve always wondered,” I said. “What’s a New York minute?”
“I think it has something to do with New York being so busy and people being impatient. Anyway, it means less than a real minute. You’re stalling, aren’t you? What did you find out?”
“Well, it seems that Addie overheard two men talking about bumping somebody off. One of the men realized she was listening and he followed her home and threatened her. She decided it was her Christian duty to jump in his camper and find out where he was going.”
“Is that the story-in-a-nutshell version?”
“It is. We have a first name and an address for the possible victim, and we’re going to check it out after I go to church tomorrow.”
“What if your killer decides to do the deed tonight?” Constance asked.
“He was headed in the other direction, toward Las Vegas, so we don’t think the victim is in immediate danger. I know we’re taking a chance, but we don’t know what else to do. The police won’t listen because there’s no real evidence of an impending crime. Right now it’s all hearsay.”
“Janet Riley would listen to you, and she’s a homicide detective.”
“I already talked to Janet. She’s the one who told me there’s not enough to go on. Of course, when I talked to her we didn’t have an address or a name. If we can come up with something concrete, I’ll call her again.”
“I knew there was something going on,” Mikey said from the doorway.
“Where’s your father?” I asked, cringing. I didn’t want him to know we were working on something again.
“He’s checking the plumbing,” Mikey replied. “You were trying to keep me in the dark again, weren’t you?”
“Oh, Mikey,” Constance said, smiling. “You’re way too smart for a seven-year-old. Where do you come up with this stuff? Checking the plumbing?”
“He’s in the bathroom. I’m like my mom, and she’s smart. Besides, I’m seven and a half now, almost eight.”
“Why, thank you, son,” I said, smiling and hoping to distract him again. “You think I’m smart?”
“Yes, Mom, but not smart enough. What’d you say about somebody getting bumped off?”
“How much did you hear?” I asked.
“Enough to know you and dad are on another case, and that’s enough for me. Who’s your customer this time?”
“Our client, if you can call her that, is a woman named Addie. She’s one of the Church Ladies.”
“The Church Ladies? Bye, Mom. I’m going back out to see the dogs.” He turned and ran out the door.
“Oh, for goodness sake! They’re not that bad,” I called after him.
Constance laughed. “Yes, they are.”
Mikey accompanied us to the restaurant that night, along with the dogs. He didn’t ask any more questions about our so-called case.
Chapter Nine
Sunday morning Mikey and I got up early to get ready for church. I was preparing a big breakfast when Chris came downstairs, wearing a nice pair of tan slacks and a blue dress shirt.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
He mumbled something that I didn’t quite catch.
“What?”
“To church with you and Mikey.” He sounded defiant, like he was waiting for me to say something, and he’d used our son’s given name.
Actually, I didn’t know what to say. I’d always told him if he wanted to accompany us, he was more than welcome, but he’d never taken me up on it.
“Cool,” Mikey said, fingering his knife and fork.
“Why?” I asked. “I don’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but…”
“I want to watch the Church Ladies in action, and Lila made me promise I’d come listen to her sing.” Chris sat down at the table and clammed up – his jaw muscles working double-time.
Deciding not to push my luck, I went back to cooking pancakes.
“I’ll be there with you, Dad,” Mikey said. “You won’t be alone. I’ll even stay for the sermon today instead of going to Sunday School.”
“Thank you, Son.” Chris smiled a very tight smile at Mikey. He normally enjoyed lounging around on Sunday mornings while we were gone, watching sports and reading the newspaper – and having a little alone time. When Chris married me he got a readymade family, and I understood his need to have a little time to himself.
This Sunday morning was going to be a new experience for all of us. I was surprised to realize how much I was looking forward to him accompanying us. I glanced over my shoulder at Mikey, and he was grinning, looking very much the way I was feeling. Neither of us said another word to Chris. We wanted him to be comfortable with his decision. And, after all, it was only one Sunday among many.
When breakfast was over and the dishes were cleaned up, I picked up my purse and bible, thought of Addie, and headed for the Jeep. Chris and Mikey followed behind, taking their time and talking about an upcoming NASCAR race. I sighed and climbed into the front seat, waiting for them to catch up to me. By the time they reached the car, they’d moved on to baseball and football. At least they were going with me.
Arriving at the church I took note that the parking lot seemed fuller than normal, or maybe that was my imagination.
We trooped in and found seats next to Constance. Chris sat between Mikey and me, and I held his hand. The service began, and after opening prayers, the choir sang and we warbled with them. The pastor gave a sermon on the Good Samaritan, and I couldn’t help wondering if he knew something about what had been going on. At least it was something that Chris was interested in hearing.
And then Lila’s big moment came. Pastor Findlay announced that we were in for a special treat on this particular Sunday, and he introduced her. She walked up to the edge of the stage and cleared her throat. The music began to play, but Lila took a step backwards. The music stopped. She cleared her throat again and stepped forward. She looked so small and alone up on the stage.
I could see Jasmine and May sitting in the front row. Their backs were straight and they leaned forward slightly.
I glanced at Lila and saw her gaze at her friends, fear showing on her face. The music started again. Lila opened her mouth, and after a brief hesitation, the voice that came out was not that of the teeny tiny, shy woman I’d come to know. It was huge, and beautiful, and inspiring, and I saw her fear melt away. While she sang I saw the years drop away from her face, replaced by peace and soft lines. She sang The Lord’s Prayer, as I’d never heard it before. She wasn’t just singing it – she was feeling it.
Halfway through the song I glanced at Chris. He was smiling a Chris smile, not wearing Bogey grin.
I turned back to Lila and watched her intently. I knew there were some notes that were hard to hit because they were so high. I’ve heard the expression about someone having the voice of an angel so many times, but in this case it was true. As she came toward the end of the song where the words were, For thine is the Kingdom, And the power, And the glory, I held my breath. Her head pointed upward, her eyes were closed, and her hands were lifted up toward heaven. She hit each and every note like a pro. I knew that Forever was an even higher note yet.
Realizing I was squeezing Chris’s hand in anticipation, I let it go, only to tent my hands and place them against my mouth. Lila sang the high note with ease and grace, said a soft Amen, and lowered her head.
Not a single sound came from the congregation – until Mikey started to clap. Chris glanced at him and followed suit. Pretty soon everyone was clapping
, not something that happened often at our church.
Lila appeared to be embarrassed and backed away.
Pastor Findlay grabbed her arm and pulled her gently forward. “Lila,” he said, “I hope you’ll sing again at a future service. You’ve blessed us today.”
Lila rejoined the choir, quietly accepting smiles and hugs, and the pastor said a last prayer before everyone stood up and began filing out the door.
Chris, Mikey and I waited outside the church to tell Lila how much we’d enjoyed her solo. Jasmine and May joined us.
“I’ve never heard her sing by herself before,” May said.
“She’s been hiding her light under a bushel,” Jasmine commented.
“She’s definitely got talent,” Chris added.
“Even I liked her,” Mikey said. That was quite a compliment, coming from my son. When I sing around the house, he either plugs his ears and runs outside to play or turns up the TV, and I’m not all that bad.
Lila joined us after a few minutes. She was smiling from ear to ear, and looking happy. The Church Ladies hugged each other while other people came up to thank Lila for her contribution. It was, well, heavenly. Lila was having a moment.
Pastor Findlay and his wife joined us. “You’re not going to believe this,” he said, “but a woman who was walking down the street heard Lila singing and came in to see what was going on. She said she was so touched that she’ll be back next Sunday. She’s new in town and she’s been looking for a church to attend.”
“Well, hallelujah,” Jasmine said.
“Amen to that,” May added.
“Because of my singing?” Lila asked in wonder.
“I wish we’d recorded it,” Chris commented. “You really need to hear yourself.”
“We did,” Pastor Findlay said. “We always record the whole service. Would you like a copy?”
“You bet,” Mikey said. “Now I gotta go find my friends.” He left us on the run.
Chris and the pastor chatted for a moment, and Chris visibly relaxed. Our pastor was a man of God, but he was also a man who could talk about anything. He never pushed a soul to attend church, but gently prodded when the opportunity presented itself.
