by Jane Tesh
Gaskins and Stephanie got into the van with Davis and left.
“Did you settle on a price?” I asked Jerry.
“He made a generous offer. Can you drop me off at the theater? I’ve got a rehearsal in about ten minutes.”
I have a slight problem with Jerry spending so much time at the theater. The director, Kenna Porter, is exactly Jerry’s type, a small blonde with an attitude. Today, however, Kenna wasn’t the problem. As we pulled up in the parking lot of the Baker Auditorium, I saw the Pageantoids. I groaned.
“What are they doing here?”
“Hoping to find a special souvenir sequin?”
“Get out of the car quick.”
Not quick enough. The Pageantoids saw me and rushed over to the car. Cathy’s plaid shorts matched Mitch’s plaid shirt. I couldn’t move without hitting one of them. As tempting as this was, I had to restrain myself. I didn’t want plaid all over the car.
Cathy’s eyes brimmed with happy tears. “Great news, Madeline! You must hear this. We’re going to organize another pageant for Celosia.”
Mitch Hutton grinned. “We’ve already spoken to Mister James here at the theater, and he’s thrilled.”
Cathy clasped her hands together. “We’re going to call it the Miss Celosia Summertime Pageant. Say you’ll help us! It would be the very thing. This is the first time we’ve ever tried anything like this. We need your advice.”
“I’d love to,” I said, “but I’m right in the middle of a case. Evan James has done dozens of pageants. He can answer all your questions.”
“But you have firsthand experience. You know what it’s like to be a queen.”
“And now I’m trying to find out what it’s like to be a detective, so if you’ll excuse me.”
They reluctantly moved so I could drive away. Jerry waved good-by from the stage door. His grin faded when Cathy and Mitch saw him and headed in his direction. It was my turn to grin as he ducked into the door to escape.
***
Shana Amry arrived just as I was unlocking my office door. She had a big bouquet of flowers and a picnic basket.
“Congratulations on your new office.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Let me give you the grand tour.”
I opened the door, and she went in.
“Madeline, this looks great! I’m so glad this all worked out.” She put the flowers on my desk and began taking things out of the basket.
“What’s all this?”
“An office warming present. I’ve got tea and cookies, a pencil holder, some multi-colored file folders, index cards, and a stapler with your name on it.” She held up the bright pink stapler. “I know, it’s lurid, but no office is complete without one.”
I laughed and reached for a cookie. When I came to Celosia, I never dreamed I’d find a good female friend. The pageant world is littered with the carcasses of friendships. Somehow, you just can’t go for the crown and be a pal. But I’d found a real friend in Shana Amry. Shana’s better known as Shana Fairbourne, author of such blazing historical romances as Suppressed Desires, Flames, and Passion’s Mistress. She could win any beauty pageant on earth by simply showing up, thanks to an abundance of red-gold hair, creamy skin, and amazing golden eyes.
Now she fixed this tawny gaze on me. “Who’s this guy, Rick? If he were a character in one of my books, he’d be Sleazy Gambler Number Three.”
“You’ve got that right. He’s a gambler. He and Jerry ran quite a few scams back in college.”
She passed me a plastic cup filled with iced tea and a straw. “Jerry’s playing pet psychic, too?”
“No, I’ve managed to keep him too busy to play with Rick.”
Shana’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, ho. What kind of ‘busy’ are we talking about here?”
“Not what you’re thinking. I’m trying to get him to find a job.”
“Any luck?”
“Not yet.”
Shana used her straw to swirl the ice cubes in her tea. “You’re driving yourself crazy, you know that.”
Like me, Shana’s not interested in having children. She tells me all her maternal instincts are centered on Hayden. It makes me wonder about my maternal instincts, such as they are. Until recently, I didn’t think I had any. Now I’m constantly worrying about Jerry, as if he were eight years old instead of almost thirty.
Shana’s gaze was sympathetic. “He’ll figure it out. I just hope he isn’t married to someone else when that happens.”
I nodded. Shana let me sit in gloom for only a few minutes before changing the subject.
“I hear you’re helping Evan with another pageant. That can’t be true.”
“Sort of.”
“Who are those two odd people in charge?”
“Cathy Sloop and Mitch Hutton. The Pageantoids.”
“Oh, that’s good. Slightly obsessed, are they?”
“Just a bit, but Evan is, too, so they should work well together.”
“Is Jerry going to play for the pageant?”
“Probably. He’s over there a lot.” Shana’s frown made me say, “What?”
“Kenna Porter, that’s what.”
“I know, I know.”
“Trouble in River City.”
“I hope not.”
“Remember your vow? ‘Nothing is more important than my relationship with Jerry Fairweather.’”
“It’s still important. I just need to approach things the right way. And Jerry keeps acting like he wants to tell me something.”
Shana made a face and took another cookie from the basket. “Maybe somebody needs to talk to Mister Fairweather.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.” It was my turn to change the subject. “What do you know about Kirby Willet?”
“In my book, he’d be Loser Number One. But I shouldn’t be so judgmental. Hayden and I moved to Celosia only a few years ago. We’re still considered upstart city folk. My impressions of Kirby Willet are completely from hearsay.”
“Did anyone mention his interest in ghosts?”
“Don’t talk to me about ghosts,” she said. “That business with Juliet Lovelace was enough for me. Nell should be able to tell you everything, and if Nell doesn’t know, try Denisha.”
“What about Mantis Man? What do you know about that story?”
“Not a lot. I didn’t grow up here, but I understand you haven’t lived until you’ve stayed out on Lovers’ Walk all night and seen the big red eyes coming at you. You can imagine what Hayden thinks of that.”
“I personally think it would be really cool if Kirby Willet turns out to be Mantis Man.”
“I suppose he could be. After all, has anyone seen him and Mantis Man together?”
“Seriously, is there anything to the Mantis Man stories? Has anybody actually been killed, or is it just another urban myth?”
“No, just scared. Now there’s a mystery for you,” Shana said. “You could solve the Mystery of Mantis Man.”
“Add it to the list.”
“List?”
I nodded. “I’m not only searching for Kirby Willet, I’m searching for Patricia Hargrave’s missing duck head umbrella, as well as several overdue books from the public library.”
“I had no idea Celosia was so full of crime.” She fixed her golden gaze on my face. “Forgive my curiosity, Madeline, but as a writer, I’m always interested in peoples’ motives. What made you decide to become an investigator?”
“That’s a fair question,” I said. “I wanted to do something useful, and it seemed to me that finding things people wanted was a lot more useful than standing around in an evening gown talking about world peace.”
“So you don’t really mind looking for umbrellas and library books?”
“No, because those things are just as important to their owners.” I tried to think of some way to explain. “I guess I want everything to be in the right place.”
As I said this, I thought, yes, that’s it. That’s the reason behind everything I do. Life’s so dis
jointed and unpredictable, it’s nice to know some things can be put in order.
“Plus I’m not judged by how I look,” I said. “At least, not by a panel of judges.”
Shana smiled. “I think I can relate to that.”
“Does this mean I’ll be a character in your next book?”
“No, you’re not conflicted enough.”
I feigned being insulted. “What? My angst-filled relationship isn’t worthy?”
“Oh, you’ll find a way around that.”
Shana had another chapter of her latest Vixen and Slate saga to finish, so she said good-by. I had reached for another cookie when Chief of Police Gus Brenner tapped on my door and came in.
“Afternoon, Madeline. Got a minute?”
“Sure,” I said. “Have a seat.”
Nell’s dad is big and square like his daughter. His hair is a fuzz of blond on his large head. His small eyes, as shrewd and blue as Nell’s, miss nothing.
“Need to talk to you about Rick Rialto.”
I made a face. “I’ll bet you do.”
“I understand he’s a friend of Jerry’s.”
“What’s he done?”
“Just a few complaints.” He took out a small pad and flipped through the pages. His brow wrinkled as he read. “Something about a cat not feeling wanted. A dog let loose because it said it needed some space.” He glanced up. “You want to tell me what this is all about?”
“Rick says he’s a pet psychic.”
“Reading animals’ minds, is he?”
“Pretending to.”
The chief nodded. “That’s a new one.” He put the pad away. “What’s he doing in Celosia? Seems there’d be more folks interested in this kind of thing in Parkland.”
“He said something to Jerry about getting involved with the film company.”
“What do you know about him?”
“I don’t like him, and I don’t trust him.”
“All right. We’ll both keep an eye on Mister Rialto.”
“He also wants to exploit Mantis Man.”
Chief Brenner shook his head. “That old thing. Every summer, I get at least one teenager who swears he’s seen the Mantis. That’s usually after too many beers at Kate’s Beer and Bait Shop on Highway Forty-Five.”
“How did that story get started?”
“Must have been about thirty years ago. Somebody saw something up in the woods by the covered bridge. Said it looked like a big insect with claws. Folks started calling it the Mantis Man. Now everybody’s seen it, or they think they have. How’s Mister Rialto planning to do anything with that?”
“He wants to sell Mantis Man tee shirts and coffee mugs.”
“Well, that’s no sillier than telling people what their cats are thinking.” He scratched his head. “Hear you’re on the lookout for Kirby Willet.”
“I hope that doesn’t interfere with any police business.”
“Can’t say that it does.”
“No deep dark scandal to uncover?”
“Nope. Interesting thing about Voltage Films, though. Josh Gaskins used to live here when he was a teenager. I believe he and Kirby Willet knew each other, at least for a while.”
I remembered Patricia Hargrave wondering aloud if Josh Gaskins was related to the Middleton Gaskins. “Gaskins lived in Celosia? Wonder why he didn’t mention it.”
Chief Brenner shrugged. “Too good for the town now, maybe. But why else would he choose Celosia? There’s plenty of little towns closer to Los Angeles. Why come all the way to North Carolina?”
“To show his old pals how important he is now?”
“I’ve learned that spite can travel a long way.”
“If he spent some time in Celosia, then he knew about the Eberlin house.”
“Hard to overlook it.”
If Gaskins has some sort of hidden agenda, what could it be? I thought. Even if he wants to spite his childhood buddy, Willet isn’t here to spite.
“Thanks,” I said. “This might be useful.”
Chief Brenner touched his cap in a little salute. “Afternoon, Ms. Maclin.”
Now I was even more curious to find what Kirby Willet had squirreled away at Frannie’s house.
Frannie Thomas lived in a modest little brick home on May Avenue. I could see how she needed every inch of space. She met me at the door and led me down a short hallway to the back bedroom. Boxes were stacked everywhere.
“Which ones are Willet’s?” I asked.
“All of them.”
“Okay, let’s start with this one.”
Frannie stood by wringing her hands as I looked through Kirby Willet’s stuff. Most of the boxes held clothes and shoes. One had soap, powder, and shampoo. Another had paperback books and hunting magazines. I checked the magazines to see if any had an address label, but Willet must have bought them from a store. Another box was filled with model airplane kits and jigsaw puzzles.
“Nothing that personal,” I said. I tried to assure her she wasn’t breaking some privacy law, but she continued to clasp her hands nervously.
The next few boxes had socks and underwear, car manuals, pieces of wire, a flashlight, a hammer, and some light bulbs.
“See? No problem.”
I opened the next box. It was full of money. A lot of money and a big jar of peanuts.
“Oh, my,” Frannie said.
Oh, my, indeed.
CHAPTER THREE
Chief Brenner looked at the box of money and shook his head. “Now I never would’ve guessed Kirby would have this much money.”
After doing a rough count and finding over ten thousand dollars in the box, I’d called the police right away. Frannie stood in the doorway, still wringing her hands. “What do you think?” I asked Brenner. “Is it stolen money? Drug money?”
“I’ll have to check,” he said. He picked up the box and carried it out to his squad car. Frannie trailed anxiously behind.
“Chief Brenner, I had no idea, no idea, at all! I thought he just had clothes and shoes and things like that.”
“It’s all right, Mrs. Thomas,” he said. “No one’s accusing you of anything. We’re just going to put this in a safe place until Mister Willet comes to claim it.”
“What about all his other stuff?” I asked.
He put the box in his trunk and closed the lid. “Tell you what. I’ll send an officer by with a truck. We’ll take it all down to the police station and Willet can settle with us later. How’s that?”
Frannie sighed in relief. “That would be wonderful. I don’t want any more surprises like this.”
“Could’ve been a lot worse,” Brenner said to me when Frannie had gone into her house.
“Drugs, you mean?” I knew even small peaceful Celosia had drug problems.
He nodded. “Yep. We should be glad it’s just good old cash.”
“This makes me even more interested in finding Kirby.”
“Maybe one of his inventions finally paid off.”
Or maybe someone had murdered him for this money and was now looking for it. No need to mention this to Frannie.
Before driving to the theater to pick up Jerry, I stopped in at Georgia’s Books and wandered around, alert for shoplifters. Everything seemed to be in order.
Georgia was checking a long list of magazines. “Madeline, I hate to waste your time. I’m not really sure we have a problem.”
“I don’t mind,” I said.
“Well, you know how Hayden is. I thought if we took some sort of action, it would calm him down. I haven’t found anything missing, and I know for a fact the store isn’t haunted. It’s old, but it isn’t haunted.”
“It’s in very good shape.”
“Yes, indeed.” She tucked her pencil behind her ear. “You remember that rainstorm last week? That’s the first time the roof has ever leaked, and fortunately, the water didn’t do much damage. Hayden wanted to fix it himself, but I didn’t let him. I had someone else do the repairs.”
“You mean, Ha
yden isn’t afraid of heights?”
“Not a bit. Strange, isn’t it? He’s terrified of things he can’t see, but he’ll climb way up on a ladder to change a light bulb or brush away a spider web, which, by the way, I will not do! I suppose we all have our own phobias. Now, don’t feel you have to hang around here all day, Madeline. I know you have things to do.”
As I drove to the theater to pick up Jerry, I thought about what Georgia had said. I knew why Jerry had a phobia about returning to the family home. Would my reluctance to return to my artwork be considered a phobia? What exactly was I afraid of? My mother was no longer standing behind me, ready to give me a push or a last-minute instruction.
Keep your hand at your waist. Don’t touch your hair. Remember to come in on the second chorus. If you don’t sing out loud like I told you, you’ll never win anything. Wave gracefully! And for God’s sake, keep smiling!
I was so used to her harsh commands, her silent smirk at the failure of my one art exhibit had cut me to the core.
That was years ago, I told myself. Isn’t it time you got over that? She’s not standing behind you talking or smirking now, is she?
Evan James greeted me in the foyer by grasping both my hands in his. “Madeline, I can’t thank you enough.”
“Thank me?”
“For introducing me to your friends, Cathy and Mitch. They’re so enthusiastic and full of great ideas, I actually want to do another pageant.”
Evan had been so upset by Juliet’s murder, he’d sworn off pageants. Now he looked so pleased and excited, I didn’t have the heart to discourage him.
“That’s great, Evan, but I really can’t help very much. I have several cases I’m working on.”
He nodded. “Yes, of course. Frannie wants you to find Kirby Willet. I wouldn’t dream of interfering with your work.”
Celosia gives new meaning to the term, “Heard it through the grapevine.” Thank goodness news about the box of money hadn’t quite made it to the vine yet.
“That shouldn’t take all your time, though,” Evan said. “You can stop by every now and then to give us some pointers.”
