Murder Wears a Veil

by Maddie Cochere

  My mind eased a bit. How difficult could she be? She was probably already starting to hunch over, walk slowly, and crave little containers of applesauce and gelatin.

  “I’m sure we’ll get along fine,” I said, turning toward Arnie’s office. “Is he in? I want to ask him about the background checks for the railroad’s summer employees. If your aunt is tagging along with me for a few days, I should get on them right away.”

  She grabbed a stack of folders from her desk. “I have them. He was so happy you’re taking Addie off everyone’s hands, he already did the deep background on everyone. You only have to do the standard checks and social media.

  I took the files to my office and began the tedious work.

  Over three hundred people had applied for the twenty high-paying summer jobs. The railroad’s human resource director had eliminated all but fifty. Arnie’s checks eliminated another fifteen. After three hours, I had a final total of twenty-eight applicants who fit all the hiring requirements of the railroad.

  I spent the rest of the day finishing mundane paperwork and dropped everything on Nancy’s desk at five o’clock.

  “I probably won’t be in the rest of the week,” I said. “I have to pick up Addie in the morning, and I have no idea what we’ll be doing. Do you know what she likes to do?”

  “Not a clue. You’re on your own.”

  I left the office feeling a tad grouchy. Not only was I not looking forward to spending time with a stranger, but paperwork always made me tired and my eyes blurry. I had suspected for a while now that I needed glasses for close work, but I kept putting off making an appointment.

  Not surprisingly, I didn’t feel like cooking again, and Glenn wouldn’t be home until eight o’clock anyway. I drove on autopilot to Chummy Burgers and More and pulled into the drive-thru lane. When the garbled voice came over the speaker box, I yelled back, “I changed my mind. I’m coming in.”

  Tonight wasn’t the night to spin the roulette wheel with dinner.

  Twenty minutes later, I walked into our kitchen with a Southwestern salad for me and a deluxe chicken salad sandwich for Glenn. I deposited the sandwich in the refrigerator and took the salad into the living room, where I promptly plopped onto the sofa, put my feet up on the coffee table, and turned on the television.

  It was nearly nine o’clock when Glenn woke me. I had fallen asleep after eating and somewhere in the midst of a Cold Case marathon.

  “Thanks for the sandwich,” he said, planting a soft kiss on my forehead before gathering up the remains of my dinner. “Why don’t you go ahead and go on up to bed. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

  I couldn’t believe how tired I felt. I didn’t argue and trudged up the stairs to change into pajamas.

  Before I could climb into bed, Glenn stuck his head through the doorway. “Are you working on a case with a tranny?”

  “A tranny?”

  “A transvestite. There’s a woman here asking for you, but I’m pretty sure she’s a man. I’ve got him waiting on the front porch.”

  I didn’t like the sound of this. “Are you armed?”

  “Yep.” He turned to show me the gun tucked into the back of his jeans. “I’ve got your back. Maybe he’s a new case for you.”

  I groaned. Why would someone come to the house at this time of night? Granted, it wasn’t very late, but I didn’t like doing business from our home.

  I yanked off my pajamas and quickly dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweater. I ran my hands through my hair and raised my eyebrows at Glenn.

  “You’re good,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  I opened the front door and found an easily six-foot tall man dressed as a woman standing on our porch. His shoulder length chestnut hair was obviously a wig. The bangs appeared to rest on a bushy unibrow. I could have sworn the orange pantsuit he wore was polyester. The urge to reach out and touch it was overwhelming.

  “May I help you?” I asked.

  “Are you Jo Raven or Jo Wheeling or something like that? I don’t remember what the hell they said your name was.”

  His voice wasn’t exactly deep, but the small Adam’s apple bobbing in his neck gave him away for certain.

  “I’m Jo Wheeler.”

  He pushed past me into the house and said to Glenn, “Well, don’t just stand there. Get my bags and show me to your guest room.”

  “Your bags?” he asked. “Who are you?”

  I could tell by his body language he was ready to draw his gun.

  “I’m Addison Chambers. I’m in this backwoods hole you call a town for my niece’s bridal shower. Jo’s supposed to entertain me this week.”

  I was aghast and didn’t care I was being rude by standing motionless with my mouth hanging open. I finally sputtered, “But … but … you were supposed to stay with Mama and Roger this week.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “Your mother is uncouth, and she smokes like a chimney. All my clothes are already defiled. And don’t get me started on that boyfriend of hers. He insists on sitting around in his boxers, and I’ve seen Harry and David three times too many today. I’ve had enough of those two. I’m staying here now, so show me to my room.”

  Not only was I unprepared for a houseguest, but the image in my mind of little old hunched-over Aunt Addie morphing into this Amazonian half-woman, half-man was enough to render me completely speechless.

  Glenn, however, was charming as ever.

  “Aunt Addie,” he said with a beaming smile. “It’s a pleasure to have you.” He grabbed her two bags from the porch and headed for the stairs. “We have a lovely guest room, and you can settle in right away.”

  Lovely. Glenn had just used the word lovely. I knew then he was terrified of the woman.

  I was helpless to do anything other than stand mute with what I assumed was a look of shock on my face.

  Glenn found me in the same spot a few minutes later. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to the kitchen.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he asked. “You could have said something to help me.”

  “I can’t spend the rest of the week with her, Glenn. She hated Mama. No one hates Mama. If she couldn’t get along with Mama, I don’t stand a chance. This won’t work.”

  He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. “You and your mother are polar opposites. If she hated Mama, she’ll love you. Be positive and give her a chance. You committed to spending time with her, so at least try to be a good hostess.”

  I begrudgingly nodded my head and said, “I’ll try. I promise.”

  “Come on,” he said with a mischievous smile. “I’m wide awake now.”

  “No way. She’ll hear us.”

  “She’s down the hall. I bet she sleeps like a bear.” He grabbed my hand and pulled. “Let’s find out.”

  What we found out was Aunt Addie snored like a bear. We didn’t have to worry about her hearing our romp or my bout of uncontrollable laughter at the entire absurd situation.

  I finally fell asleep with a pillow over my head.

  Chapter Seven

  The sound of construction broke through my sleep. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand and saw it was only six o’clock. Why and where would there be construction this early in the morning?

  It only took a few seconds to realize Aunt Addie was yelling. Something was wrong.

  I fought the bedding to scramble out of bed and raced downstairs. Addie stood at the bottom of the stairs banging Glenn’s spaghetti pot with a wooden spoon and shouting for me to get up, you lazy bonehead.

  “What are you doing?” I asked louder and with more irritation than I intended. “You could have come upstairs and woke me with a little less oomph.”

  She eyed my appearance. “Your breakfast is ready, and I’m ready to go. Get dressed. Time’s a-wastin’.”

  I stood my ground. “It’s only six o’clock. There’s nowhere to go this early in the morning.” I attempted to suppress a yawn. “We’ll leave around ten.”

  “Nonsense,” she
said and banged the pot again. “Get dressed.”

  She turned and headed back to the kitchen. I almost called out after her, but it was too early for a confrontation. No matter what Glenn thought, there was no way Addie and I were going to get along.

  I stormed up the stairs and took my time showering, shaving my legs, conditioning my hair, and using a curling iron after a thorough blow-dry. My usual fifteen-minute, low-maintenance routine blossomed into an hour and fifteen minutes. I even took time to put on makeup. I grabbed a comfortable pair of jeans and my favorite stretched-out sweater. Even with the shabby clothes, I still looked like I was going on a date rather than showing a sour old woman around town.

  I took my time making my way to the kitchen. My spidey senses were tingling. Something didn’t add up with Addie. Nancy had to be wrong about her age. She looked younger than Mama. It didn’t seem possible she was nearly eighty years old.

  When I walked into the kitchen, there wasn’t a morsel in sight.

  “Where are we going first?” Addie asked.

  “What happened to my breakfast?”

  “You’re too late. Breakfast is no longer being served.”

  Before I could ask what I missed, the doorbell rang. A loud pounding on the door quickly followed.

  Other than Mama, I didn’t know of anyone who would show up at our door this early. I turned to Addie and said, “That has to be Mama. Grab your purse. We can slip out the back door.”

  “Nonsense,” she said and barreled past me to the door.

  I had no choice but to follow and prepare to intervene in the coming disaster.

  Pepper stood on the porch with a cat carrier in her arms. I could tell she was distraught as she rushed into the house.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Something’s happened hasn’t it?”

  Tears came to her eyes. “Buck’s been in an accident. There was early morning fog, and he was changing lanes at the same time as another trucker. By the time both of them realized they were moving into the same lane, it was too late.”

  My heart sank. I knew an accident was something that was always in the back of Pepper’s mind, and now it had happened. “Is he ok?” I asked.

  “The other guy’s in serious condition, but Buck’s fine. I don’t know if he’s telling me the truth, but he said he doesn’t have a scratch on him. His truck is pretty messed up though. I’m on my way to Charleston to pick him up. Hank has the kids, and here’s the new Pickles. She might not be perfect, but she’s good enough.”

  “What am I supposed to do with her? What if her hair grows back?”

  Addie looked at me and said, “Don’t be ridiculous.” She took the carrier and said to Pepper, “Don’t you worry about a thing. We can take care of your cat just fine.”

  She opened the carrier, and the new Pickles Bunwich tore out and down the hallway to the kitchen. She turned left at the trashcan, knocked it over, and, we assumed, raced down the stairs to the basement.

  If that cat peed on any of our new remodeling efforts, I was going to kill Addie and bury her with the old Pickles Bunwich.

  Pepper managed a smile and said, “You must be Aunt Addie. I’m Estelle’s daughter Pepper. It’s nice to meet you.” To me she said, “I have to run. I know Buck’s keeping something from me, and I want to get down there as soon as I can.”

  I followed her to her car. She settled herself in the driver’s seat and struggled to hold back laughter. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not funny, but she’s a real character, isn’t she?”

  I groaned. “Tell me about it.”

  “I know you already have your hands full, but you and Aunt Addie are going to have to help Mama with the shower. I’ll be back with Buck tomorrow, but the soonest I can help again is Thursday. Call Mama later today and ask her what she needs.”

  I had no response. The thought of Mama and Addie planning a shower together was disturbing on many levels. All I could muster was, “Drive safely.”

  Even with the car window up, I could hear her laughter as she drove away.

  I found Addie reading our newspaper in the kitchen. Pickles had obviously finished whatever she was doing in the basement and was now eating what appeared to be blueberry pancakes and scrambled eggs from the spilled trash.

  Addie looked up from the newspaper. “What’s the story with the cat?”

  My gut reaction was to ignore her question, but I had promised Glenn I’d try to get along. I filled her in on the case of Ethel Bunwich’s missing cat while I made a cup of coffee for myself.

  She cocked half of the unibrow at me. “Did you run this scam by my brother?”

  “Why would I? Arnie let’s me handle my cases as I see fit. He certainly doesn’t want to hear about a missing cat.”

  “So, you’ve learned everything you need to know already?”

  I eyed her suspiciously. Who was she to judge me? What did she know about being a private investigator?

  “I’m sure I haven’t, but I certainly know enough about handling missing animal cases.”

  Her attitude didn’t sit well with me, and my stomach suddenly felt sour. I dumped my coffee in the sink, grabbed the cat carrier, and threw a piece of the pancake inside. The cat quickly followed, and it only took a minute to clean up the mess on the floor.

  “Are you ready?” I asked. “I might as well take the cat to Ethel now, because it’s not staying here.”

  “Whatever you say. I’m just along for the ride.”

  When we pulled up in front of Ethel’s house, I was firm with Addie. “Stay in the truck. This will only take a few minutes.”

  I grabbed the carrier from the back seat and walked to the door. I was having second thoughts about trying to pull this off. Why did I let Pepper talk me into this in the first place? Ethel would know in an instant that this wasn’t her cat. How stupid were we to think shaving a cat’s tail would be enough to trick an old woman.

  Trick an old woman. I may not have received the strongest compassion gene in the world, but I wasn’t completely without sympathy. I needed to tell her the truth. I set the carrier off to the side on the porch and rang the bell.

  Ethel answered the door. Her face was red and blotchy. I wondered if she was ill. She managed a smile when she spotted the carrier on the porch.

  “Did you find Pickles?” she asked. The look of hope on her face made me feel like a criminal. I regretted bringing the cat to the door.

  I opened my mouth to tell her no, but Addie spoke over my shoulder. “No, she didn’t. May we come in?”

  I turned and whispered with anger in my voice, “You were supposed to stay in the truck.”

  Ethel opened the door wide. Addie brushed past me and into the house.

  The cat smell didn’t seem as intense as it had on Monday. I sat gingerly on the edge of the sofa and whispered again to Addie through gritted teeth, “Let me do the talking.”

  When Ethel had settled herself into her chair, I said, “This is Arnie Baranski’s sister, Addie Chambers. She’s staying with me for a few days. I hope you don’t mind I brought her along.”

  “Of course not. Can I get you something to drink? A cup of hot tea maybe?”

  I shook my head. “We’ll only be a few minutes.” I paused for a moment before confirming the truth. “Addie’s right. I didn’t find Pickles.”

  “But you brought a cat. Whose cat is that?”

  Addie spoke up. “This nitwit found out your cat was accidentally run over by a car, so she got a replacement cat from the pound. She and her equally nitwit sister thought if they shaved its tail, you’d never know the difference.”

  Ethel looked near tears. “Jo? Is this true?”

  I glared at Addie before saying softly to Ethel, “I was going to tell you the truth. Gordon Berger found Pickles Sunday morning. He said she didn’t suffer, and he buried her in his back yard. His wife thought it was best you didn’t know, so you would continue to have hope she might come home one day.”

  She nodded her head slowly. A few tea
rs spilled onto her cheeks. “I know. Tootie was here last night. She changed her mind and thought I should have some closure. We picked a few flowers from her garden and placed them on Pickles’ grave. Gordon said he’d make a marker, and I could come up to visit any time.”

  “I’m sorry, Ethel,” I said. “I should have told you as soon as I found out, but I couldn’t bring myself to give you such bad news. Honestly, I was going to tell you the truth today. I’ll take the cat back to the shelter.”

  “Let me see her,” she said.

  “Are you sure? I think she’s a little wild and she’s not declawed. She might scratch you. You don’t want to get cat scratch fever.”

  Addie piped up again. “Nonsense. She said she wants to see her. Go get the cat.”

  I glared at her again and grabbed the carrier from the porch. I set it on the floor and opened the door. The cat didn’t bolt out the way it had at my house. Instead, she stuck her head out and surveyed her surroundings.

  Ethel held a cat treat in her hand. New Pickles approached her slowly before jumping onto her lap to accept the treat. A few moments later, the cat had curled up and made herself comfortable on her lap. Ethel made soft cooing noises as she petted the cat. Apparently, she was a regular cat whisperer.

  “Look at that,” Addie said. “You shaved that poor cat’s tail for nothing.”

  Ethel began inspecting the cat. I didn’t know what she was looking for.

  “We were assured she’s been spayed and wormed,” I said. “If she needed any shots, I’m sure she had those, too.”

  Ethel laughed. “Is that what they told you? She’s been spayed?”

  “I don’t know. Spayed or neutered. I just know she’s been fixed.”

  Ethel turned the cat over on her lap and looked again. “She’s been neutered. This is a male cat.”

  Addie spoke up again. “I told you she was a nitwit.”

  A headache began to form behind my left eye. There was no way I could endure this unpleasant woman until Saturday. I had to think of a way to ditch her.

  Chapter Eight

  “Addie Chambers? Is that you under those bushy eyebrows? Goodness gracious, I haven’t seen you in a hound’s age.”