by Jane Tesh
“And?”
“And Rick decided to play Mantis Man.”
“So now you know how Twenty feels.”
“Yes, I could gladly kill him.” I shook my head. “She’s too serious about all this.”
“Celosia’s her home.”
“Parkland’s my home, but I don’t panic if someone wants to make changes.”
“Small town life is different.”
“I believe that,” I said. “I also believe there’s more to this than Twenty wanting to keep Celosia mantis-free.”
Shana’s eyes gleamed with humor. “Then we’d better not tell her about Miss Mantis.”
***
I spent the rest of the morning tracking down library books. While shaking down Reverend Dobbs at the Presbyterian Church, I caught sight of a red umbrella in his umbrella stand, but it didn’t have a duck head. Dobbs handed over Journeys With Paul, grinning sheepishly.
“I thought it was my copy.”
“No problem.”
My next stop was the television and radio station. Benjy Goins, local DJ, grinned from his booth and held up Make Your Ads Count where I could see it. When he had a commercial break, he came out and handed me the book.
“I knew you were on the trail, Madeline. The word is out. Madeline Maclin, Watchdog of the Library.”
“I’m letting you off easy because this is your first offense.”
“What can I say? I’m a hardened criminal.” Benjy actually looks like the scruffy dog from the “Benjy” movies. He scratched his beard. “You know I’m judging Miss Celosia Summertime for those nutty friends of yours.”
“Yes, and they’re not my friends. They’re more like remoras.”
“I’ve got Chuck on board, too.”
“I’m sure you’ll have a great time. What do you know about Josh Gaskins and Kirby Willet?”
“Don’t know Gaskins, but Willet’s always been a town character.”
“Any idea where I might find him?”
“Wayfarer Motel.”
“Nope. Not any more.”
“Then I don’t know.” He looked at the clock in his studio. “Can you wait till my next break?”
I sat in one of the fake leather chairs and thumbed through Make Your Ads Count while Benjy played three more of “Benjy’s Big Hits.” Then I heard something that made me slap the book shut.
“So come on in to Deely’s, home of the Mantis Man Burger. So much meat, it’ll make your eyes bug out!”
“What the hell was that?” I asked Benjy when he came out.
“New ad for Deely’s.”
“Mantis Man Burger?”
“Kinda catchy, huh?”
“You know Twenty’s launched a protest group against Mantis Man merchandising.”
He made a dismissive gesture. “She’s wound too tight. This Mantis Man stuff could be a lot of fun, bring in a lot of tourists. I figure, we’re gonna have a movie about it, why not cash in on the publicity? But forget that. What I wanted to tell you was Kirby’s probably gone to Riverdale.”
Riverdale. Boy, that was convenient.
“He always talked about a cousin who lived there and how the two of them were going to work on inventions together. He should’ve moved to California. California’s the perfect place for him, if you ask me.”
“As far as you know, none of his inventions ever worked?”
“Not a one.”
“Do you know the cousin’s name?”
“He never said.”
My cell phone beeped. It was Jerry.
“Mac, I just heard about Mantis Man Burgers on the radio. If we don’t try one, we’ll regret it the rest of our lives.”
“I’ll meet you there,” I said. When I put my phone away, Benjy grinned at me.
“The power of the media.”
***
Deely’s was more crowded than usual, but we found places at the end of the counter and ordered a cheeseburger.
“No flies,” Jerry said.
Deely got the joke and grinned. “No problem.”
“Nonsense,” the man next to me said. “Absolute codswallop.”
Lance Henderson peered out from under a false beard and moustache.
“Lance?” I said. “What’s with the disguise?”
He shushed me. “It’s the only way I can move about your rustic little town. Otherwise, I’m swamped with requests for autographs. The people at your sorry excuse for a motel have been hounding me mercilessly.”
He couldn’t keep the pride from his voice. Another fine performance, I thought.
“Are you enjoying your Mantis Burger?”
He glared at his sandwich. “A ridiculous name for such a delicious hamburger. You see how the madness has already taken hold?”
Alicia Fields, one of Deely’s waitresses, brought me a Coke and Jerry a glass of tea. “Need a refill, Mister DuBois?” she asked Henderson.
“No, thank you,” he said.
“You just take your time.”
“Thank you, my dear.”
Alicia moved down the counter. Henderson wiped his hands on his napkin. “There is one ray of light in all this. Vivian Montrose is unable to join our merry band.”
“Will Gaskins cancel the project?”
“No, he’ll just corral some other mindless starlet.”
“She’ll have to be here by tonight, won’t she?”
He spoke with satisfaction. “That’s his problem.”
Alicia brought our cheeseburgers.
“Are you eating two of those massive creations?” Henderson asked.
“No, one’s for my friend, Jerry Fairweather.” I leaned back so the men could see each other. “May I reveal your true identity?”
Henderson gave a gracious wave of his hand. “Yes, of course.”
“Jerry, this is Lance Henderson.”
Jerry shook hands with Lance. “I never would’ve recognized you,” he said with a perfectly straight face.
“Well, one learns the tricks of the trade early on, young man. It’s your house Gaskins intends to use for his schlockfest, isn’t it? Can you honestly believe such a picture can succeed?”
“It has possibilities. Nothing like ‘Wings of Power.’”
Henderson brightened. “Ah, my World War I epic. Kind of you to remember, Mister Fairweather. Do you have a favorite episode?”
“I think the prison escape was my favorite.”
“An excellent show. I was able to explore the full range of my talents in that one.”
Of course Jerry would know about any TV show. He and Lance talked about “Wings of Power” for a while. As I ate, Henderson kept giving me glances, as if he couldn’t believe I was immune to his charms.
“What did you think of the spy episode, Mister Fairweather? I was never happy with the results. We had a writer who would not budge from his storyline, even though I had many excellent suggestions.”
“I can’t say I recall that one.”
Henderson gave the counter a slap. “I knew it! My ideas would have made that show memorable! Award winning!”
“Did you write any of the episodes?” Jerry asked.
“Just one, and our producer failed to recognize its significance.” He wiped his mouth on his napkin. “As for our current conflict of interest, Ms. Maclin, I’m hoping for rain tonight. A good thunderstorm. Lots of clouds and interference.”
“It’ll only add to the spooky atmosphere.”
He growled down in his false beard. “I’d do anything to ruin this movie’s chances. Gaskins promised me a decent, award-winning film. I have no patience with his quirks.” He put his money on the counter. “Good day to you, my dear. Mister Fairweather. A pleasure talking with you.”
For someone trying to be incognito, he made a big production of leaving the diner, waving and calling to the waitress and commenting loudly about the blast of heat as he went out. I wondered if Henderson was always all talk and no action. I swung around on my stool. “Henderson doesn’t want the
movie to happen, either.”
“I noticed that.”
“His glory days are over, and he’s having a hard time letting go.”
Alice stopped by to refill our drinks. To Jerry’s amusement, she confirmed my opinion by asking, “Who was that old geezer, and why did he want me to call him Mister DuBois?”
“Lance Henderson,” I said. “He used to be famous.”
“Never heard of him.”
“You’re too young,” Jerry said.
She gave him the kind of twinkly smile most women in town give Jerry. “Thank you, Jerry. Is this Henderson in the Mantis Man movie?”
“That’s right.”
“Does he play the Mantis? He looks too old.”
Jerry and I shrugged. “We’re not sure,” I said.
“Have you seen that other man, the real good-looking one with the black curly hair? I’ll bet he plays the hero, and the old guy plays his grandfather or something.”
Thank goodness Henderson wasn’t around to hear this. “We’ll have to wait and see.”
She set the iced tea pitcher down, flipped through her pad until she found our orders, tore them out, and placed them on the counter. “Can I come out and watch the filming? Deely says they’re doing some shots tonight on account of the full moon.”
“I think that would be okay,” I said.
Alice picked up the pitcher and moved on down to her other customers.
“So how was your morning?” Jerry asked.
“I found two more library books.”
“Good.”
“And I talked to Chance Baseford.”
Jerry had taken a drink of tea and almost did a spit take. He swallowed and wiped his mouth. “You did what?”
“Talked to Chance Baseford. I’m pleased to report he no longer has any control over me.”
“What did you say? What did he say?”
“McKittrick had an assistant, Jackson Frye. Do you remember another man at the house? Somebody standing by to hand McKittrick his brushes?”
“I just remember trying to hold Tucker. He was a wiggly little guy. Did Baseford recognize you?”
“Yes, and he was a complete ass about it. I don’t think he’s used to people standing up for themselves. I couldn’t do it back then, but I sure as hell could do it now. He told me to try the artists’ colony in Riverdale. McKittrick might be living there. And, just because I’m living right, Riverdale’s where Kirby Willet’s cousin lives. Maybe I can solve two mysteries in one day.”
“Heading up there now? I’d like to go with you, but I promised Hayden I’d do a full spectral analysis of the store, and the movie crew’s filming tonight.”
I checked my watch. It was almost one. By the time I got to Riverdale, it would be four or five. “I’ll probably wait till in the morning.”
***
After leaving Deely’s, we stopped by the bookstore to see if any more spectral insects had fallen from above. While Jerry and Hayden went to the back to check on celestial vibes, I talked with Georgia. She was rearranging the children’s books.
“Madeline, I hate to say this, but I laughed like a fool when Hayden told me about Jerry’s close encounter. Imagine the ceiling being full of dead bugs! I’m glad there weren’t any customers in the store.”
“I hope all this nonsense isn’t bothering you.”
“Oh, I’m not upset,” she said. “Hayden actually saw the humor in it this morning. Even with all the séance nonsense, Jerry’s the best thing that’s happened to him.” She glanced toward the front of the store. “Isn’t that one of the movie actors?”
Flynn Davis wasn’t in disguise like Henderson, but he scowled just as fiercely.
“Can you believe this?” he said. “Not only does Vivian have another commitment, that washed-up Henderson has convinced Gaskins to let him narrate the movie! That’s so old-fashioned! How are we going to establish a mood with his ancient voice muttering through the soundtrack?”
“Give the guy a break,” I said. “Didn’t you tell me Henderson thought he had the lead? Gaskins is probably trying to soften the blow. You’ll have more screen time, right?”
“There’s no telling what that old crackpot will say.”
“Gaskins has final edit, doesn’t he?”
Davis stopped griping and looked at me. “I thought you said you weren’t an actress.”
“I’m not.”
“‘Screen time.’ ‘Final edit.’ You sound like one.”
I shrugged. “Everybody in America knows about the movies.”
Now his stare was on full power. “You’d be perfect for Vivian’s part.”
I put both hands up. “Hold on. Don’t even think about that.”
“All she does is run around and scream. You can do that, can’t you?” He clutched my hands. “Please say you’ll do it. You’ll save the picture.”
I pulled free. “That’s crazy. I can’t act.”
“Have you ever seen Vivian act? She just stands there and looks gorgeous. You can do that.”
Just like being in a pageant. Good lord, is there no escape?
“Davis—”
“Please,” he said. “You don’t know what this movie means to me. It’s my first big break, my first starring role. If Gaskins has to fold because of Vivian, it’s back to the soaps for me. Plus I’ll have to listen to Henderson gloat. At least say you’ll try.”
Besides Georgia, who was listening avidly, we had attracted a small crowd of interested shoppers.
Davis took advantage of his audience. “Don’t you think she’d be perfect in ‘Curse of the Mantis Man’? Don’t you think she’d make a beautiful heroine?”
Georgia beamed. “Madeline! A chance to be in a movie!”
“I’d take it,” one of the shoppers said.
“Me, too,” another said.
A third shopper nodded. “Everybody in town’s been wanting to get in. You’d be silly to turn it down.”
I took Davis’ arm and pulled him out the front door. “Could we talk about this somewhere else?”
He gave me what I’m sure he thought was a winning smile. “How about my motel room?”
“How about the dark side of the moon?” I said and walked away.
He called after me. “Make that a full moon, Madeline. That’s tonight, you know.”
I thought I’d had my share of idiots for the day, but I caught sight of the premiere idiot, Rick Rialto, unloading boxes of tee shirts into an empty store just two doors down from Georgia’s. He saw me and held up one of the shirts.
“Hey, Mac. What do you think of this?”
A garish red and black mantis waved three of its six legs. Letters above its head proclaimed just as Twenty had feared: “Greetings From Celosia, Home of Mantis Man!”
“Charming.”
He folded the shirt and replaced it on the stack. “I knew you’d like it.”
I came into the empty store and looked around. Traces of cedar shavings and musty scents hung in the air. “Wasn’t this a pet shop?”
“Went out of business a couple of days ago. Wasn’t that lucky?”
“How did you get it, Rick?”
“The owners were anxious to rent.”
“No, I mean where did you get the money?”
He grinned that shit-eating grin I hate so much. My heart sank.
“Hey, you know J and me are tight. We used to be partners. My old buddy’s not likely to refuse a request, especially for something so important. Want to see the hats? They turned out great.” He dug in another box and brought out a baseball cap with the same Mantis Man design. “Cool, huh? And I’ve got bumper stickers and key rings and Christmas cards. You haven’t lived till you’ve seen old Mantis Man in a Santa suit.”
I knew if I stayed one more minute I’d smack that grin so hard it would come out the back of his head. As I left, I heard him call, “Thanks for shopping Mantis Man Merchandise. Come back soon.”
I decided to let Hayden bring Jerry home so I’d ha
ve time to calm down. I went up to the second floor parlor. I stared at the blank piece of white paper on the easel for a long moment. Then, using the photographs I’d brought from the theater, I started sketching the first child’s face, a pale oval peering out of a rabbit costume. I was surprised by how easily I was able to capture the little boy’s expression. The next boy, dressed as a bear, was making a humorous grimace I’m sure he imagined as a fierce face. A few quick strokes, and his dark features grinned from the paper. Relief eased my shoulders down. I could do this.
When Jerry called, “Mac, want some pizza?” I glanced at my watch and then stared. I’d been working for over two hours. I washed my hands and hurried down the stairs. Jerry had the lid up on one of three takeout pizza boxes.
“Pepperoni, sausage, or Super Combo?”
“A slice of each, thanks.” I sat down at the table and reached for one of the plastic cups of cola. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”
“It must be coming along okay, then.”
“Better than I thought. Did you rid the bookstore of evil spirits?”
He slid a large piece of sausage pizza out of the box. “Yep. It’s nice to have a second job to fall back on.”
“You don’t have a first job,” I said.
“Can I wait until ‘Music Man’ is over?”
“I’ve started painting.”
“Can’t I just be your sidekick?”
As appealing as this sounded, I had to keep him on track. “We have a deal.”
“I promise as soon as the show is over, I’m circling the want ads in the paper.”
“Maybe you could work in Rick’s store.”
Jerry paused, the piece of pizza halfway to his mouth. He set the piece down.
“He’s got the stuff already?”
“He said you paid the rent. I thought you weren’t going to have anything to do with him any more.”
“He just needed a loan.”
I didn’t know what else to say. Jerry must have sensed my frustration.
“Rick and I go way back, Mac. I’d do the same for you.”
I really liked being lumped in the same category as Rick Rialto. “That’s good to know.”
“I don’t know why you’re pissed. I’m not the one selling the stuff.”
“Never mind,” I said.
