by Sharon Rose
“Okay, Mabel. Remember that I love you and I always have your best interests at heart.”
“I know you do, Mrs. Flanders. Speaking of my heart – when are you going to bring some of those sweet rich cinnamon buns around to the shop again?”
It is so much pleasanter to listen to Flori laughing than yelling or sobbing.
Chapter Twenty Two
Sheriff Smee stopped in about eleven on Tuesday morning. Somehow, he managed to arrange it right when Flori walked in with her cinnamon buns. I won’t complain, however, because I was happy to see both of them. The sheriff looked much better than the night before and he had some news for me.
“I visited the hospital early this morning, Mabel, and I think you’ll be surprised at what I found out,” he said. This he said after finishing one gigantic cinnamon bun and downing his first cup of coffee.
“Really?” I said. “You were up to the hospital? Did you see Prunella?”
“I did. She’s trying to say that she was alone and hit her head but she’ll have hard time sticking to her story.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because,” he said, with a smug look, “I sent Scully and Jim out last night to check out all the bushes and hedges around Prunella’s home and guess what they found about four blocks from Prunella’s house?”
This is one irritating factor when trying to solve a murder case with Reg - he insists on making you guess.
“I have no idea. What did they find?”
“Oh, Mabel,” Flori said. “Take a guess. I’ll say a bloody brick. Am I right?”
“Flori, your eyes are literally sparkling. I don’t think you should enjoy this so much.”
Reg laughed. “Really, that’s a good guess. Imagine if it was another brick. That would make for quite the mystery. Actually, it was a wrought iron frying pan. We took it to the lab at the hospital and they figure it’s Prunella’s blood all right.”
“Why would she lie, Reg? I don’t understand.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know but she might be afraid. Or, maybe she really doesn’t remember. She took quite a hit and the alcohol level in her blood was out of this world.”
“You’re kidding? That much alcohol? And, drugs? I heard she had some in her system too.”
He nodded. “You heard about that, did you? Well, they’re not sure what type of drug it was. The lab is checking it with the substance that you found. I’m thinking someone maybe put something into her drink. And then, there’s that money. It doesn’t look good for Prunella.”
“Speaking of her drink, did anyone check for fingerprints on the other glass? There was one empty glass that I’m sure was Prunella’s but there was another one with some rum left in it. If there are, that will tell us who was visiting.”
Reg nodded. “I haven’t heard the results yet. Maxymowich sent it away for testing. Let’s hope the prints weren’t removed.”
Flori reached down the front of her muumuu top and pulled out about four tissues. In less than three seconds, she was bawling her eyes out.
“Flori,” I said. “Goodness sake, can’t you find a better place to keep your tissues? Why are you crying anyway?”
She wiped away some tears from her pink cheeks and sniffed. “Because I don’t know what‘s happening to our lovely little town, that’s why. Mabel, people we’ve known all our lives are killing people we’ve known all our lives.” Another sniff and stifled sob. “And, they’re using a brick we might’ve walked past dozens of times.” Just the thought of that seemed to bring on another volley of tears.
“Didn’t you cry enough about that already?” I asked. “Instead of crying and carrying on, we have to find out who did this.”
“But now,” she said. “Now, there are people we’ve known all our lives, putting drugs into drinks. Not only that, the person drinking those drinks, never drank before.” She magically pulled out another handful of tissues with one hand and in her other hand, she gripped the wad of wet soggy used tissues.
“Well,” I said. “That’s not entirely true.”
“What’s not entirely true?”
“Prunella might’ve sort of had a bit of a problem before.”
Reg’s eyes widened. “Prunella Flowers had a drinking problem? You mean before Bernie’s murder?”
“Well, that’s what she told me but it was in strictest confidence so I’d appreciate it if you never mentioned it to anyone.” I looked at Flori. “Flori?”
“Why are you looking at me? You know I won’t say anything to anyone.”
“You have a tendency to forget sometimes, that’s all. I’m reminding you now.”
She sniffed and rolled up all the Kleenex into a ball about the size of a medium cantaloupe. “I won’t say anything if you don’t, Mabel.”
“I’m not saying this to hurt your feelings; it’s just that I don’t want everyone thinking Prunella is a drunk and a drug addict, that’s all.”
“I think we’ve discussed Prunella’s drinking habits enough,” Reg said. “However, if someone got her drunk, put drugs in her drink and then hit her with a very hard object, I think we’d better realize that this is no kid’s game here. We’re talking about either one unsavory character or more. This is getting more complicated and I don’t want either one of you getting hurt. If you hear something, you come to me. Don’t try solving anything on your own. Whoever tried to kill Prunella could just as easily do the same thing to you. You might be the next victim. I mean it.”
“And I mean it too, Mabel,” Flori piped in. “Don’t get involved in this. If it’s a big drug ring, the Mafia will be involved and they’ll kill you as soon as look at you. Isn’t that right, Reg?”
“You said it, Flori.”
“Thanks, Reg,” I said. “Now Flori will be watching every move I make and worrying day and night.”
“I already do anyway, Mabel.”
Reg stood up.
“Well, ladies, I’m going to try to see what else I can dig up.”
“Does Maxymowich know about the frying pan?” I asked.
Reg nodded. “I can’t really keep things like that to myself, Mabel. After all, we do want to find out who killed Bernie and it isn’t a contest.” He walked to the door but turned and smiled. “Wish I could solve one murder case before I retire though. It would be like icing on the cake.”
It would be. It would be icing on my cake too.
Chapter Twenty Three
The rest of my day went by quite smoothly. Most people who came in wanted to talk about the murder and about Prunella but some had the decency to buy a thing or two. No one seemed to know much of anything. I made sure to question everyone too. Sometimes the most innocent remark could lead to a clue or even solving a case.
Most of them were very concerned about Murray McFerguson. He was sinking deeper and deeper into depression and Erma didn’t know what to do. I hadn’t heard from her so I supposed she didn’t know anymore about Bernie and Melanie. No one talked much about Melanie. She was apparently hiding out in her parent’s home and not seeing anyone. It struck me that it could be house arrest because obviously she would not be an escape risk. It sounded like the city cops had interviewed all of her neighbors and almost everyone in Parson’s Cove, for that matter. Flori said Jake told her that they talked to all the men who met at Main Street Café. Obviously, someone knew something.
My Tuesday went by smoothly but I knew Wednesday wouldn’t be quite as pleasant. Delores came to the shop at eight that morning and I walked over to Flori’s so we could go together to the Nursing Home. She still didn’t totally trust me.
“Flori,” I said. “What kind of person do you think I am? You really think I would leave you all alone with Calvin and all these elderly people?”
She took much too long to answer.
As usual everyone was waiting for us. At least this time the weather was cooperating. Smiling faces, walkers, and canes filled the front sidewalk. Some were sitting in their wheelchairs watching and wishing they could
go. A few just sat and stared, having no idea what was going on. They were probably the happiest.
Everyone, including the ones who were staring, let out a loud cheer when they saw us coming down the sidewalk. As we got closer we noticed most of them were laughing and pointing. I looked at Flori and she looked at me.
“What’s with them?” I asked. “I think we’re more to be pitied than laughed at, don’t you?”
Flori turned a pretty pink, which seemed to enhance the bright pink empire waist top she was wearing. “Do you think my slip is showing?” she said. “I’ll walk ahead and you check, Mabel.”
“It’s not your slip. They’re pointing at something. Not us.” I turned around and there walking as proud as could be was Sammy, my one and only white cat.
“Sammy, what are you doing here? You bad cat.” I reached down and picked him up. He proceeded to purr and act as if he’d won the Nobel Prize for best behaved cat.
Flori started laughing. “Mabel, you should take him over for those folks to see him. I bet they would love to pet him. Some homes bring animals in for the residents, you know. I think Sammy would be a really good cat for that.” She reached over and scratched the cat behind his ears. The cat reacted swiftly by scrambling out of my arms and into Flori’s. Thus, letting everyone know how love deprived he was.
Calvin sat in the bus with the door open, scowling as we walked up. His face was enough to ruin anyone’s day. Flori proudly showed Sammy around and after each pet and snuggle, I would lead that person onto the bus.
“Say ‘good morning’ to our happy driver, Mr. Koots,” I said to each one that I brought up the steps and past the driver’s seat. Mr. Koots replied to each with a grunt. Somehow not one elderly person took offense.
We were finally all settled in. It should’ve been Calvin’s job to walk down the aisle to count and check each occupant but Flori very willingly did that. It took awhile because she had to stop and hug each one. I was getting almost as restless as the driver was. To say that he was getting restless was putting it mildly. He started the motor, tapped his foot, and every few seconds would turn around and ask Flori how much longer she was going to take.
“We don’t have all day here, you know, Mrs. Flanders,” he said. “Some of us want to get back home before dark.”
That set the old folks in a commotion because they didn’t want to drive home in the dark either. At least, not the adventurous ones. Of course, some like Mary Jane Smith couldn’t hear anything anyway. She took her seat beside me again.
“Don’t forget,” she whispered. “Watch Calvin’s feet when he comes back.”
I nodded. At least this part of the trip was fun for me. I have to say that even after all these years, it still felt strange sitting beside my old teacher and have her whispering in my ear.
We were almost into the city when a few in the back rows started laughing and squealing. Everyone looked back and down the aisle. There, walking as if he owned the bus, strolled Sammy. He looked up at each occupant and when he spied me, he raced over and jumped on my lap. Of course, now that he knew he’d been a bad cat, he would snuggle and purr. It was all to the delight of the passengers. I’d never seen them so cheerful. Perhaps Flori was right. It might be a good idea to rent him out to the nursing home. The thought of rent money did cross my mind for a second but if Flori knew that, she’d be devastated.
The only one who wasn’t impressed was Calvin Koots. However, I doubted anything would impress him.
“Mabel,” he yelled. “Get that cat off the bus.”
I looked out the window. We were doing seventy miles an hour on the freeway.
“How do you propose I do that, Calvin?” I yelled back.
“I don’t care how you do it. I don’t want that cat on my bus.”
Suddenly the busload of seniors came to life. Everyone started shouting at once. If I hadn’t stood up and told them to shut up and sit down, I think Calvin might have been injured. Not that it would bother me too much but throwing things like books at someone who’s driving a fast moving vehicle isn’t too wise.
“Don’t worry,” I told them. “We won’t throw Sammy off the moving bus.” I turned to Calvin. “And, Calvin, you don’t have to worry because I’ll look after the cat while we’re at the mall.”
He didn’t say anything after that and the rest of the drive was quiet. Sammy moved over to Miss MJ’s lap and sat there until we arrived.
After unloading us and grumbling about how long it was taking Calvin took off, screeching the school bus wheels. I never even knew you could do that. He was obviously in a rush to go somewhere.
MJ was watching the bus too. “See, Mabel,” she said. “That man is up to something.”
“I don’t understand why he’s the one taking you to the city anyway. Whatever happened to Bill Williams? Why’d he quit?”
Miss MJ shrugged. “I don’t know but I sure wish he’d come back. Maybe it was getting too hard for him, driving the school kids and then us too. I’m sure we’re harder to handle.”
“I’m going to talk to Flori again and see if she can’t get Jake to do something. She was going to but probably forgot.”
“We’d be eternally grateful.” She’d been holding Sammy while I helped Flori getting people off the bus and now she handed him back. Sammy looked at me with a very smug look on his face. Well, we’d see how smug that look would be when I bought a collar and leash for him.
To my surprise, my cat took to a collar and leash like Reg to cinnamon buns. Of course, he was getting the attention of every shopper. It was a good thing that he was so well behaved because the security guard came around twice to check us out. The second time, Sammy was sitting in the cart as if he owned it. We did discover, however, that the restaurant wouldn’t let us in so we bought some food at the food court and found a bench. MJ stayed with me this time. I don’t think it was my company but Sammy’s that drew her.
This time again, Calvin was late. Ten minutes. Once again, we had to coax him to help. He mumbled and grumbled but finally agreed to put some packages in the compartments on the outside of the bus.
“Look,” MJ whispered in my ear. “See how he’s walking?”
Sure as anything, the bus driver walked as if he had blisters on the bottom of his feet.
“When we get back to the Home, I’ll ask him what’s wrong with his feet.” I told her.
She nodded and grinned. “Best not to get him upset before we get home.”
Sammy sat on my lap and since he was being so good, I removed the collar and leash. Before I could stop him, he was down on the floor and up by the driver’s seat. Fortunately, Calvin didn’t notice. Flori was calling my name from a seat close to the back of the bus.
“Mabel,” she said. She started waving her hands and arms and pointing towards Calvin. Then, she whispered very loudly, “Get that cat out of there.”
“I know.” It was easier said than done. I called Sammy but not too loudly because I didn’t want Calvin to hear me and I didn’t want him to see the cat. If I snuck up to the front and startled the driver, who knew where we would end up? We’d turned onto the freeway now and there were four lanes of traffic travelling from fifty to eighty miles an hour.
Sammy was so preoccupied with Calvin’s shoe that there was no way I could get his attention. If Calvin looked down he couldn’t miss seeing a white cat sitting there sniffing his boot. Twice Calvin lifted his foot off the gas and stepped on the brake. I held my breath as Sammy followed his foot from the gas pedal to the brake. Fortunately, traffic was heavy and Calvin didn’t dare take his eyes off the road. Perhaps, if he didn’t notice Sammy, he wouldn’t notice me grabbing Sammy. Perhaps.
The bus became very quiet as everyone watched me lower myself to the floor and crawl on hands and knees to the front of the bus. I crouched down behind the driver’s seat and waited. Sammy took his nose off the shoe for a moment to look at me. I have no idea what he was thinking but he quickly went back to sniffing Calvin’s size twelve sho
es. What, on earth could Calvin have stepped in that made my cat so attracted to the bottom of his boot? Calvin, I noticed, was watching the traffic coming up on the left. There were several semi trailers trying to get by. It was now or never. I reached out, grabbed Sammy, and scrambled backwards to my seat. The busload of seniors burst into cheers and clapping. Calvin looked back and gave all of us a dirty look. By this time, I was safely back in my seat, trying to hang onto my cat. He definitely wanted to get back to smelling the driver’s clunky brown work boots.
The only way I could keep that fanatical cat from jumping off my lap was to put the leash back on. I held him tight all the way back to Parson’s Cove. As soon as the bus rolled to a stop in front of Parson’s Cove Restful Retirement Retreat, I loosened my grip on Sammy’s leash. He bolted off my lap and ran up to Calvin’s shoes, sniffing and pawing.
“Get that dang cat away from me,” Calvin yelled as he kicked at the cat with his steel-toed boots.
Never kick an animal in front of anyone over seventy.
“What’s the matter with you?” one old woman screamed as she hit Calvin over the head with her purse. “How would you like it if I kicked you?”
With that, a chorus of protests went up and Calvin actually looked at me for help.
“You should be ashamed,” I said and grabbed Sammy. “What have you got on your shoes anyway that drives my cat crazy?”
“Nothing. You can look. I don’t have anything on my shoes. You’ve got one crazy cat, that’s all and you make sure he never comes on this bus again or I’m going to report you, Mabel.”
“Don’t worry, I will never be coming on this bus again and if I have anything to do with it, you won’t either, Calvin Koots. You are the last person who should be put in charge of elderly people. I hope someday when you’re old and decrepit that you get treated just like you treated these people.”
