Mike Befeler Paul Jacobson Geezer-lit Mystery Series E-Book Box Set: Retirement Homes Are Murder, Living with Your Kids Is Murder, Senior Moments Are Murder, Cruising in Your Eighties Is Murder

by Mike Befeler

  “Sure. I’m willing to talk to the head honcho.”

  “And I received a call from Matt Larson this morning. He spent the night with an actor friend in Denver who encouraged him to call me. He’s relieved that Previn’s under arrest and says he’ll testify.”

  “That should give you a solid case against Previn.”

  “And I have some other news for you, Mr. Jacobson.”

  “Are you returning my Alaskan cruise tickets?”

  He laughed. “You can speak with Mr. Kingston concerning that. No, this should be better news for you than a cruise. All the crimes that you were connected with or witnessed have been solved.”

  My eyes widened. “Will wonders never cease?”

  Jennifer, who had been hovering around the couch, jumped up and down and shouted, “Hurrah!”

  “My lawyer’s enthusiasm speaks for me too.”

  Lavino wrinkled his brow.

  “It’s a little family joke,” I said. “My granddaughter has been handling my various alleged criminal cases.”

  “It’s no joke,” Jennifer said, putting her hands on her hips. “Grandpa, you owe me a zillion stuffed animals for my fee.”

  “You’re right. I’ll settle up after the detective leaves. Now I’d like to hear the specifics of the various cases.”

  Lavino cleared his throat. “This may take awhile, given the large number of crimes you’ve been connected with.”

  “I have all day, all the rest of my life or whichever comes first.”

  Lavino chuckled. “First, the kidnapping of Katherine Milo. Thanks to the lead you and your granddaughter provided, we finally tracked down the missing girl and her father. He did have her at the mountain cabin. He’s now facing trial, and Katherine Milo has returned home to be with her mother.”

  “I’m so glad,” Jennifer said. “I’ve missed her. I’ll have to call right now.” She scampered away.

  “And how is Katherine?” I asked.

  “She’s fine,” Lavino replied. “Her dad told her he had permission for her to miss the end of the school year for an early summer vacation. He took her hunting and fishing so she didn’t even know she’d been abducted.”

  “That’s good. It could have been pretty traumatic for her.”

  “Now, the bank robbery.”

  “I wasn’t involved.”

  “I know that. We found marked bills at Benjamin Slade’s toy store, grilled him, and he confessed to the robbery.”

  “I don’t understand that guy giving change with marked bills,” I said.

  Lavino shrugged. “He thought he could distribute a few of the bills at a time without being detected. He only used them around kids and old people. That was his mistake. He never figured on you, Mr. Jacobson, and your granddaughter.”

  “But then he was going to use a whole caboodle of the marked money to buy Beanie Babies.”

  “He planned to skip out and set up shop in another state. Also, under further questioning, he admitted working alone, so you’re off the hook, Mr. Jacobson.”

  “You’re good, Lavino. Cleaning up criminals all over Boulder.”

  “That’s not the end of it.”

  “Do go on.” I winked at Jennifer, who had returned to the room.

  “Two boys accused you of indecent gestures in the bathroom at Marshall Middle School. Following up on the tape your granddaughter gave me, the boys also admitted to me making up the story. One more off the list, Mr. Jacobson.”

  “And the theft at the swim meet bake sale?”

  “Mr. Jacobson, you shouldn’t remember that . . . oh, yes, your journal.”

  I wagged my finger at him. “I was beginning to think you had a memory problem, Detective.”

  “Again, the boy who stole the money confessed. All these kids seemed relieved when they admitted what they’d done.”

  “They probably had some strong persuasion to ’fess up.’ ”

  “Then there’s the matter of the drug bust when you placed a brown bag in a trash container moments before a known drug dealer picked up a similar brown bag from the same container.”

  “And I described to you the exact contents of the bag,” Jennifer said.

  Lavino sighed. “I feel outnumbered here. Call off your pit bull, Mr. Jacobson.”

  “Let’s hear the detective out, Jennifer.”

  She crossed her arms and gave him her evil-eye stare.

  “Regarding the drug bust you witnessed,” Lavino said, “we subsequently caught the courier who had placed the heroin in the garbage can.

  And finally, we arrested Mr. Mallory Pitman for sawing down trees in Mr. Fisher’s yard. Once again thanks to your efforts.”

  “I’m always willing to help. The public will be happier without his artwork littering the landscape.”

  “He’s sworn off sculpture and has been ordered to complete a community service project by painting over graffiti throughout town for the next two weeks.”

  “Just make sure he doesn’t get inspired by the graffiti and do some of his own.”

  He gave me a tolerant smile. “Now, Mr. Jacobson, we’re down to one last set of charges against you, a dog not under control and not picking up after your dog.”

  “It wasn’t my dog.”

  Lavino held his hand up to stop me. “I understand. Given all the assistance you provided, I’ve been able to have this charge dropped. You’re now free of all accusations.”

  “Thank you, Detective.”

  “And I have a little present for you, Mr. Jacobson. After all the time we’ve spent together, I thought it only appropriate to leave you a little memento.” He pulled something out of a brown paper bag. “It’s a picture of the county jail. You seemed so interested in the picture of the jail in the interrogation room at police headquarters that I thought you’d like your own autographed copy. A reminder to stay on the right side of the law.”

  I held it up to admire it. “I’ll be sure to do that. And one thing, Detective. I noticed when you handed me the picture that your fingernails have grown out. You’ve stopped chewing them.”

  He smiled. “Yes, thanks to you, I’ve been so busy wrapping up crimes that I haven’t had time to chew my nails. Within a week I’ve eliminated a fourth of my case load.”

  “Happy to be of assistance, Detective.”

  After Lavino left, Jennifer accompanied me to my room where I placed the picture of the county jail on my dresser next to a butterfly collection and the photograph of Marion.

  I stood back to admire my fiancée. “Now I’m free to go to California to marry Marion. That appeals to me much more than ending up in that place.” I pointed toward the jail picture.

  “You’re not free yet, Grandpa. You still owe me my fee. I’ve calculated it at eight additional Hawaiian stuffed animals.”

  “Tell you what. You and I can catch the bus right now to the mall. You can pick out the ones you like best.”

  “Cool.”

  “But, Jennifer, I’m still puzzled by the butterflies on my dresser. That’s a hobby I’ve never pursued.”

  “You received a present from a detective in Hawaii. You helped him like you did with Detective Lavino.”

  “I’ll be damned. Don’t remember it.”

  “That’s why you need to keep writing in your journal, Grandpa.”

  I sighed. “I guess you’re right. Particularly since, if I move to California, I won’t have you to remind me.”

  Jennifer’s smile disappeared. “I’m going to miss you, Grandpa.”

  “You’ll have to come visit me once in awhile. Plus we can talk on the phone, and there’s always writing letters.”

  “I wish you’d learn to use email, Grandpa.”

  “In my next life, Jennifer. In my next life.”

  * * * * *

  We caught the bus downtown and strolled the short distance to the Pearl Street Mall.

  “Look, Grandpa. The store we went to before is still open.”

  We entered the shop, and a bell rang, si
gnaling our presence. From behind the counter a woman in her twenties, clear complexion, slightly pointed nose, straight short black hair and wearing large oval glasses looked up.

  “May I help you?” she asked with a pleasant smile.

  “Yes, indeed. I need to purchase a whole raft of Hawaiian stuffed animals for my granddaughter.”

  She put her right index finger to her chin. “I’m just getting familiar with the stock. I think I have two or three on display. Let’s look.”

  She sashayed out from behind the counter and led us to a shelf. She lifted up a pig and a goose. “Here’s what I have.”

  I frowned. “That won’t do. I need more.”

  Then the woman’s eyes lit up. “There’s a possibility I have additional ones in the back room. I haven’t gone through all the boxes yet.”

  Jennifer bounced up and down. “We’ll help you look.”

  The woman motioned us into the back room. It resembled Dorothy’s house after the tornado hit. Brown boxes were scattered everywhere.

  “How do you find anything here?” I asked.

  She gave me a wan smile. “I’m new to this. It’ll take me some time to organize the stockroom.”

  Jennifer launched into ripping open boxes like Max tearing meat off a bone. I bent down and rummaged through cartons as Jennifer shoved boxes aside like a whirling dervish.

  I inspected a box of matchbook cars and another with Cabbage Patch dolls. I had just opened a container of Legos when Jennifer shouted, “Bingo! I found it.”

  She scooted a large box over toward me and pulled the tabs open for me to see. It was crammed full of stuffed animals.

  Jennifer began unpacking the box and setting the animals down on the floor. “Grandpa, you owe me for nine cases, but you’ve already paid me one, the orange crab, so that leaves eight.”

  “You can round it up to ten,” I said. “That’s your tip for services performed.”

  “Okey dokey, Grandpa.”

  After ten minutes she had a line-up that would rival anything Detective Lavino could put together at police headquarters.

  Jennifer couldn’t contain her enthusiasm, and I thought she’d bounce clean through the floorboards. “Here, Grandpa, look at this. Umo, a barking Hawaiian monk seal; Nui Loa, a humpback whale; Momora, a Hawaiian pig; Unele, a nene goose; Mele Pumaiko’I, a lucky bullfrog . . .”

  She had to pause to catch her breath. “And He’e Waihe’e, little octopus; Ka’inapu, a prancing horse; a cat, Nihi; Oeha’a, a waddling duck.” She danced it around on the floor. “You’ll like my final one.” She lifted up a yellow and black stuffed animal with black bead eyes and black antennae. “Pualele, a monarch butterfly. The same kind as in your collection in the glass case on your dresser.”

  “I’m glad you’re pleased.” I pulled out my wallet and forked over my life savings.

  “How long have you been in this store?” I asked the woman as she rang up my purchase.

  “Two days. The previous owner had some kind of legal problems, and I bought the shop for a steal.”

  Chapter 22

  When we returned to the manor, Jennifer scampered up to her room to install her new friends in a place of honor on her bookshelf.

  I settled in an easy chair for an afternoon of trying to figure out what a soon-to-be-married coot in his eighties thought he was doing.

  Before I could reach any constructive conclusions, the doorbell rang. Allison put down her Sudoku puzzle and, with Max at her heels, greeted a muscular, dapper man with neatly creased tan slacks, white polo shirt under a blue blazer and closely-cropped white hair. He strode right up to me, grabbed my right hand and pumped it like he wanted to make water shoot out of my mouth.

  “Mr. Jacobson, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “I don’t know if the pleasure is mutual. Who the hell are you?”

  He snapped out a business card. “Kingston. Peter Kingston, the third.”

  My mind did one of its blips, and all I could think of was Peter Kingston, the turd. I suppressed this thought. “You’re the president of the retirement property company.”

  “The same. And I owe you my deepest gratitude.”

  Given what that company had represented, I didn’t know how deep he could go.

  He cleared his throat. “You stopped my ill-selected, ex-friend Gary Previn from destroying my company and sending me to jail.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “To tell you the truth, Mr. Kingston, I’ve had my suspicions concerning your outfit since I first heard a pitch from one of your salesmen.”

  “Understandable. Very understandable. I let the sales force run amok, not realizing what Previn planned to do. He was responsible for all sales and marketing while I focused on operations, finance and completing our zoning applications.” He bit his lip and shook his head. “I was unaware that Previn had instructed his sales force to solicit two hundred thousand dollar deposits. He was supposed to be lining up prospects so that when we received our zoning approval, we could make concrete offers.”

  I regarded him carefully. “You mean you didn’t know of this embezzlement scheme?”

  “No, otherwise I would have fired Previn and stopped it immediately. I’ve set everything straight, though. We now have zoning approval, and I’ve sent letters to the twenty-three people who invested money. I’ve offered to either honor the promise that Previn shouldn’t have made or to refund their money completely. Their choice. We have to return to an even keel with our operation.”

  “From what I understand, you and Previn spent time in the Special Forces together.”

  He nodded. “That’s correct. Previn had the concentrated drive and sales experience I needed when I started Colorado Mountain Retirement Properties. Unfortunately, I was blind to his greed, corruption and violence.”

  “But isn’t violence a characteristic bred in the Special Forces?”

  “True, but a very focused type. It’s meant to be used to protect, not take advantage of the general population.”

  “Didn’t you become suspicious when two of your sales people died under mysterious circumstances?”

  “I should have paid more attention. Being in the middle of delicate negotiations for the zoning approval, I suppose I kept a pretty single focus. Didn’t see the wheels coming off the bus. Previn set me up to take the fall while he prepared to waltz off with a huge chunk of illegally collected money. I understand he even took away the two Alaskan cruise tickets you won in a raffle.”

  I chuckled. “I didn’t deserve those anyway. Previn rigged the drawing as a way to entice me onstage so he could attack me.”

  “I disagree. Everyone in that room heard you announced as the winner. Even if Previn had ulterior motives, we stand behind our public promises.” He pulled a leather pouch out of his inside jacket pocket. “I want to present you with an all-expense-paid cruise package for two. Previn had set it up originally for a cheap inside lower deck cabin. I’ve upgraded that to a balcony suite. You can choose any shore excursions, which will be charged directly to my account.” He slapped the folder into my hand. “Go and enjoy yourself with a companion. It’s the least I can do for you in appreciation for saving my hide and my company.”

  I stared at the packet resting in my hand. “Much obliged. I must say I’m very surprised by this. I read that you were a lawyer.”

  “That’s right. I started my career as a corporate lawyer. Then moved over to the management side.”

  “I’ve never seen a lawyer give anything away.”

  He patted me on the back. “You come from the old school where you classify all lawyers as scum.”

  “Something like that.”

  “We’re not all that way.”

  Jennifer, who had been listening, jumped in. “Remember, Grandpa, I want to be an attorney. And your friend Meyer Ohana in Hawaii. He was a lawyer, and he’s nice, and he helped you a lot.”

  I shook my head. “This will take some getting used to.”

  “I’ll also pay for your p
lane fare to Seattle and back. You pick the starting point. Call the number on my business card, and my admin will take care of all your arrangements.”

  “It will probably be from Los Angeles.”

  “Wherever. You can fly from Paris if you like. It’s a small price to pay for what you’ve done for me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my leave and let you get back to your family.”

  As he left, I must have been standing with my mouth open.

  Jennifer looked at me. “As Dad always says, close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.”

  I chuckled. “That’s what I always told him when he was a little squirt.”

  “Grandpa, you can take Marion on the Alaskan cruise for your honeymoon.”

  “You’re right. That’s one aspect of getting hitched I would need to take care of. Now with Lavino off my back, I can start the ball rolling on wedding plans.”

  I moseyed into my room and admired the picture of Marion next to the butterflies and Boulder County jail photograph. What an eclectic collection I had on my dresser.

  Marion was a handsome woman. And she seemed willing to be stuck with me for as long as I stayed alive and kicking. What a world.

  I found Andrea’s cell phone number and decided to give Marion a call.

  After Andrea put Marion on the line, I said, “Is this the young chick who’s willing to settle down with an old fart?”

  “Paul, it’s wonderful to hear your voice.”

  “Yes, at my age it’s still wonderful to be able to speak.”

  She tisked. “You have to quit obsessing about your age.”

  “Only a statement of fact. I called to discuss wedding plans.”

  “Well, first I have to convince you to come to L.A.”

  “I’m ready to take the plunge. I’ve wrapped up all my . . . er . . . obligations here, so I’m free as a bird.”

  “If you fly out within the next week or so, I think we can complete plans in a month. Say a late July wedding.”

  “No sense delaying at my age.”

  “There you go again.”

  “All right. No sense delaying when I have such an attractive young bride.”

  “That’s better.”