Marja McGraw - Bogey Man 02 - Bogey's Ace in the Hole

by Marja McGraw

  “I had a teacher like that once,” I said. “I loved his class.”

  Chris smiled. “Seventh grade. Art class. My best teacher was a knockout – a real dish. Every boy in school wanted to take her class. And we actually learned from her, too.”

  I just looked at him.

  “Well, we did,” he said, sounding defensive. “She was talented and shared her knowledge with us.”

  We finished dessert and I carried the dishes to the sink. Chris was watching me, and Mikey was petting Sherlock and Watson. I glanced toward the doorway and back at Chris. He looked confused and shrugged his shoulders at me. I looked at the doorway again, then at Mikey, and finally inclined my head toward the door a couple of times.

  The light dawned in Chris’s eyes. “Okay, Ace,” he said, “your mother was right. It’s time to get ready for bed now. Go take your shower.”

  “But, Dad, it’s still early.” I knew whining when I heard it, and Mikey was whining.

  “Tell you what. You go take your shower and I’ll play checkers with you before it’s lights out. Okay?”

  Mikey sighed. “Okay. But can I play with the dogs for a few minutes first?”

  “If you take them outside,” I replied. “Fifteen minutes, and then you take your shower.”

  Without another word, Mikey whistled to the dogs and they joyfully followed him outside, tails wagging in every direction.

  “I wasn’t thinking,” I said, turning to Chris. “I shouldn’t talk about what we’re doing in front of him.”

  “I know. It’s easy to slip.”

  “He takes it all so calmly that I forget he’s just a child. Sometimes he’s too grown up for his age.”

  “That he is.” Chris smiled at me. “You’re a good mother, Pamela, and it’s not going to hurt him if he hears some of what we’re doing, but I don’t think talking about a hit man in front of him is the right thing to do.”

  “No, it’s not. He already sees enough of that type of thing on television. When I was his age I wouldn’t have known what a hit man was.”

  “We need to regulate what he watches. I’m glad he’s not one of those kids who’s glued to the TV though.”

  “Okay, Chris, back to my original question. Shouldn’t we have left a note for Victor? It seems like we should have done something.”

  “I know it sounds farfetched,” Chris replied, “but what if this is the wrong Victor? I’m sure it’s not, but we don’t want to scare him if he’s not the man we’re looking for.”

  “But we have that address…”

  “I know. I’m sure it’s the right man, but we need to talk to him in person. We’ll drive back over there after we drop Ace off at school tomorrow morning.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The next morning arrived and things went smoothly for a change. Mikey and Chris got up on time and the dogs were little angels – not that they’re ever any trouble. I had to laugh to myself. Sherlock, at one hundred two pounds, and Watson, at eighty-six pounds, are not little and they’re frequently trouble.

  We ate breakfast, Mikey found his backpack, and we were out of the house about ten minutes earlier than usual. Since our restaurant is closed on Sundays and Mondays, we knew we’d have all day to take care of business.

  We were headed for the Jeep when I heard something. I stopped dead in my tracks and hoped I was wrong.

  “Yoo hoo,” a familiar voice called. “We’re here, and it looks like we’re not a minute too early.”

  I turned around and saw Jasmine walking up the driveway, followed closely by May and Lila. They were all wearing expectant happy faces, which made it more difficult to feel annoyed.

  I turned to Chris. He sighed loudly and said something I couldn’t hear, closed to door to the Jeep and headed for the Chevy. I guess he knew when he was licked. Mikey followed him with his head down, and I was pretty sure he was trying not to laugh at whatever Chris had said.

  “What did your dad say?” I asked quietly.

  “I couldn’t hear all of it, but it was something about his nightmare coming true.”

  I started to laugh, unable to stop myself. “The Church Ladies are the Bogey Man’s nightmare?”

  Mikey stopped and turned to the ladies. “Good morning. How are you today?”

  Jasmine smiled. “Well, bless your heart, young man, we’re all fine as a fiddle. Or is that fit as a fiddle? No matter, we’re all ready and raring to go.”

  Chris opened the back door of the Chevy and helped Jasmine in. Mikey, on the other side of the car, helped Lila and May in, and gently closed the door.

  My son climbed into the front seat and I slid in next to him. He quickly glanced at me, then Chris and the ladies, before dropping his head to stare at his lap. Smart kid. He knew it wouldn’t go over well if he started laughing. Chris was aggravated enough already.

  Chris cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you ladies would be here this morning.”

  “Why, I thought it was expected,” Jasmine said.

  “Me, too,” May said.

  “I wasn’t sure,” Lila added.

  “Well, you’re here now.” Chris sounded resigned. “We’ll take Mikey to school and after that we’ll head for Victor’s house.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” I said.

  “Is that where the hit man lives?” Mikey asked.

  Reaching over, I put my hand on his mouth and said, “Shhhh!”

  “Oh, your son knows what’s going on?” Lila asked.

  “No!” Chris and I said in unison.

  Chris turned around and glanced over the car seat, giving the Church Ladies a warning glance.

  Jasmine clamped her lips together and May closed her mouth and folded her arms across her chest.

  “Tic-a-lok,” Lila said, using her fingers to make the sign of closing a zipper across her mouth.

  “Mikey,” I said, “why don’t you tell the ladies about what a cool teacher you have this year. I’m sure they’d like to hear about Miss All.”

  Mikey twisted around as best he could, which wasn’t that easy with his seatbelt on, and spent the whole ride telling them stories Miss All had told to illustrate some of their lessons. The women were wonderful and responded positively in all the right places. They added a few short stories of their own about what school was like when they were young.

  We arrived at the school and I climbed out so Mikey could exit the car.

  “Those ladies aren’t so bad, Mom. I like talking to them. And I’m going to tell Danny about sock hops. He’ll never believe me. I might tell Miss All, too.”

  “I’m glad to hear that you like the ladies, Mikey. Now you have a good day at school, and we’ll be back to pick you up later.”

  Some friends ran out to meet him as we watched him walk up to the school. Chris pulled out of the parking lot and headed for Victor’s place.

  The Church Ladies chatted all the way, and once again prayed before we got on the freeway. Chris said he knew a shortcut now that he’d figured out the way to our destination.

  Forty-five minutes later we pulled up in front of Victor’s house. Being the loving wife that I am, I didn’t mention that it should have only taken us half an hour.

  “Okay,” Chris said, turning around in his seat, “I want you ladies to wait here. Do I need to remind you not to talk to strangers?”

  “No,” Jasmine said. “We remember the pep talk you gave us yesterday.” She sounded a little annoyed.

  “Just so we understand each other.” Chris sounded a tad annoyed, too.

  “We do,” May said, “but we’d like to know when you’re going to let us get out of the car and join in. After all, we’re the ones who got you involved in this in the first place. And we know we can help.”

  “We’re going to go talk to a man who might be the intended victim of a major crime,” Chris said, through very tight lips. “I don’t think that’s the time for a whole passel of us to show up at his door.”

  I could tell that the ladies weren’t happy, bu
t he’d made his point. They sat quietly while Chris and I headed for the house.

  “There’s a car in the driveway,” I said. “It looks like he’s home this time.”

  “Looks like it,” Chris said.

  “How are we going to approach him?” I asked. “We can’t just walk up to the door and say, ‘Hey, pal, we think someone’s gonna try to kill you.’”

  “We should have discussed this before driving over here. Okay, let’s just play it by ear.”

  Chris knocked on the door and it opened almost immediately. Victor must have been watching out his window. “Can I help you?”

  “Are you Victor?” Chris asked.

  “I am. What can I do for you?” He stood in the doorway, and if looks mean a thing, then I couldn’t see anyone wanting to get rid of him. At about five feet and eight inches tall, he had thinning, light brown hair and brown eyes. He had a medium build, with just a little paunch around the middle. And he had one of the most pleasant faces I’ve ever seen. He simply looked friendly. I took an immediate liking to him.

  “We think someone’s gonna try to kill you,” Chris said.

  My mouth dropped open and I gave Chris a look that said, Have you lost your mind?

  Victor’s eyes widened and his eyebrows nearly shot off the top of his head. He took a step backward.

  “Excuse me?” he said, sounding shocked. “Who are you and why would you say something like that to me. Explain yourself.”

  All of a sudden he didn’t look so friendly.

  “I’m sorry my husband was so abrupt,” I said, trying to smooth things over, “but there is an indication that someone may want to harm you. May we come in and talk to you?”

  Victor hesitated for a moment, and I figured he was probably wondering if we were the ones who wanted to hurt him. He finally stepped back and motioned us to come inside.

  I glanced back at the car before entering the house and saw that the women had rolled the window down to watch us. Three elderly faces peered at us from the rear of a light green vintage Chevy. I saw May stick her thumbs up in the air.

  Chapter Twelve

  We followed Victor into the house, where he sat down in an old dark brown recliner. Chris and I planted ourselves on the even older brown and tan couch. I glanced around the room and saw that although it was clean, Victor’s furniture appeared to be old and a little dingy. He didn’t appear to be a man of means, so I crossed money off my mental list of possibilities of why someone would want to kill him.

  “Now, what’s this all about?” Victor asked. He appeared to be very uncomfortable, which didn’t surprise me.

  Chris leaned forward, looking into Victor’s eyes. “Some friends of ours, actually one lady, overheard two men talking about killing someone and making it look like an accident. When they were leaving the diner, one of the men dropped a piece of paper. It had your name and address on it. Of course, we could be wrong, but that leads us to believe that you may be the intended victim.”

  Victor sat quietly for a minute, obviously trying to digest what Chris had just told him. “Who is this friend?” he asked. “Is it someone who knows me?”

  “Oh, no,” I said. “She’s an elderly woman who was at the wrong place at the wrong time, or at the right place at the right time, depending on your point of view. And one of the two men realized she overheard them and followed her home. From what she tells us, he threatened her. Fortunately for her, a neighbor was watching. I have a feeling he was going to come after her again, but we’ve hidden her away for now.”

  Victor reached for the telephone that was on an end table by his chair. “I’m going to call the police.”

  Chris and I waited while Victor’s hand lingered over the receiver. He moved his hand away from the phone and placed it in his lap, fingering the fabric of his slacks.

  “Before I call, tell me what these men looked like. Maybe I can figure out who they are. I’d like to be able to tell the police as much as I can.”

  Chris leaned back. It appeared that Victor was taking us seriously. “The waitress we talked to said one was over six feet tall and slender, with salt and pepper hair and a long mustache. She said it drooped. We got the feeling that he was probably middle-aged. She couldn’t tell us much about the other one. She said everything about him was average; coloring, build, size. I’m sorry we can’t give you more than that.”

  Victor appeared thoughtful again.

  “Does either of those descriptions sound familiar to you?” I asked.

  “Well, the description of the all-over-average man doesn’t give me much to work with; however, the other man could be…” He stopped talking, shaking his head. “No, it doesn’t make sense. There’s a guy who frequents the same bar I do, but I don’t even know him. He certainly couldn’t have anything against me.”

  “What bar is that?” Chris asked.

  “Del’s, over on Pico,” Victor said. “Nah, it couldn’t be him. I’ve only seen him around there a few times. And like I said, I don’t know him.”

  Victor reached for the phone again. He tapped the receiver with his fingertips before pulling his hand away. “No, I’m not going to involve the police. I think there really must be some kind of mistake. I haven’t done anything to piss anyone off lately. This just doesn’t make sense. But thanks for the warning. I’ll keep my eyes open and be careful – just in case.”

  “But that note had your address on it,” I reiterated.

  “You know, this same address would exist at the other end of the street,” Victor said, sounding hopeful.

  “We’ve already been there,” Chris said. “It’s a sleazy motel, and there’s no one named Victor registered there. I think you might be in trouble, pal.”

  Victor turned to Chris with a solemn look on his face, and blinked. He didn’t say anything, but blinked again. Call me silly, but I was pretty sure he was blinking back a tear or two. His eyes appeared watery. Maybe he really did know who might be after him and he didn’t want to share the information with us – or with the police.

  Before I could go any further with that thought, there was a loud knock on the front door. Victor shook his head and excused himself.

  “Yes?” he said.

  “You must be Victor. Nice to finally meet you in person. I’d like to see the Bogey Man, please. It’s urgent.” Jasmine’s unmistakable voice rattled me, and she sounded breathless. What now?

  “I’m sorry, but you want to see who?” Victor sounded confused, and I couldn’t blame him. He looked like he was ready to close the door on Jasmine.

  To his credit, Chris didn’t groan or growl, or say anything at all. He simply stood up and headed toward the front door.

  “That would be me, Victor. Some people say I bear a resemblance to Humphrey Bogart.”

  Victor opened the door wider and studied Chris as he took a step back.

  “What is it, Jasmine? I thought you were going to wait in the car?”

  “It’s important. Can you come outside for a minute?”

  Chris stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind him, and Victor returned to his recliner.

  “Is that the woman who saw the two men?” he asked. “Maybe I should invite her in and ask a few questions.”

  “No, she didn’t see a thing. It was a friend of hers who heard the two men talking. Jasmine never saw them.”

  He looked disappointed, but he didn’t say anything. He watched the door, waiting for Chris to return. So did I. Victor began picking at the fabric of his slacks again. He was agitated and I couldn’t blame him. We’d handed him a bowl of sour grapes, and he wasn’t up for it.

  I turned around and watched Chris out the front window. He followed Jasmine to the curb where he stopped and looked in the direction that Jasmine was pointing. Her mouth was going a mile a minute, but I never saw Chris open his. He nodded his head and returned to the house after helping Jasmine climb back into the car. Knocking on the front door, he entered the house without waiting for anyone to open it.
/>   “What was that about?” I asked.

  He turned to Victor instead of answering me directly. “Do you know anyone who drives a black Dodge dually with a white camper on it?”

  Once again, Victor appeared to be confused. “No, should I?”

  “I don’t know, but that’s the truck Jasmine’s friend described as being the one the guy with the droopy mustache was driving. And Jasmine and the other ladies just saw it drive by. By the time I got out there, it was gone. She said the driver fit the description and that he was eyeballing your house when he drove by.”

  “What other ladies?” Victor was beginning to sound frantic. “How many people are involved in this?”

  “Let me explain,” I said. “There’s this group of four Church Ladies who meet for lunch every once in a while. It was one of those ladies who overheard the conversation between the two men we’re worried about. The ladies came to us for help, because initially they were worried about their friend when they couldn’t find her. That’s a longer story, and I won’t go into it right now. But this whole thing leads up to someone being after you. It seems that your life really is in danger.”

  Victor turned to Chris, and Chris nodded his head. “I know it sounds kind of loopy, but that’s the story in a nutshell.”

  Victor stood up and paced across the room and back again. He sat down on his recliner. “Okay, here’s what I think. I think it’s all a big mistake. My name is Victor Rogers. Are you sure you’ve got the right Victor?”

  Chris shrugged, not having an answer for that question. “All we have is a piece of paper with your name and address on it.”

  “On the off chance that it’s not a mistake, I’m going to drive up to Del’s and ask the bartender if he knows anything about the guy with the mustache. If I think there’s really anything to this, then I’ll talk to a friend of mine who’s a retired police officer.”

  “We have a friend who works in the Homicide Division at – ”