Just You Wait: A Grace Street Mystery (Grace Street Mysteries)

by Jane Tesh

  “No. A little unusual, maybe. Mrs. Mitchell was murdered, and there’s a possibility your cousin George was murdered, too.”

  “Do you believe there’s a connection? I never heard George mention a Mrs. Mitchell, but then, I saw him infrequently.”

  Maybe there wasn’t a connection, only an odd coincidence. Maybe someone at BeautiQueen could tell me more.

  ***

  When I got home, Camden was on the porch saying good-bye to the church people. Of course, they all had to stop and talk to me and continue their futile attempts to get me to join a Sunday school class. After they left, I started to tell Camden what I’d learned at Lucy Wharton’s when a burst of piano music made me stop. I knew that sound.

  “How long has Charlie been here?”

  “Not long. He and Kary have been working on some music.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  Charlie put the finishing touches on a telling little number called “Since My Best Gal Turned Me Down” and joined us on the porch. He looked cheerful. Too cheerful.

  “You and Taffy come to an agreement?” I asked.

  “No, and you know what? I’ve decided that doesn’t really matter.”

  Camden gave me a worried look. I didn’t have to be psychic to pick up the message.

  Charlie sat on the porch rail. “Randall, I have to tell you, Kary is an angel. I’ve never had a woman listen to me like that.”

  I didn’t like the sound of this. “She’s used to dealing with small children.”

  “I told her all about me and Taffy. She’s so sympathetic. I feel so calm being around her. You know, I haven’t had a cigarette since I got here? ’Course, I didn’t want to smoke in your house. You guys don’t mind if I light up?”

  “Go ahead.” My concern was growing. Charlie was also a borderline alcoholic who smoked like a freight train, but already there were signs of Kary’s influence. I could see her reforming him, helping him quit smoking, getting him into AA, leading him into a life of health.

  The snap of Charlie lighting a match jarred me out of this depressing daydream. “What about Taffy?” I asked him.

  He lit his cigarette and shook out the match. “Why should I waste my time on her? She’s made it pretty plain she doesn’t want me—unless you’ve found out something different.”

  “I think you need to give it a little more time.”

  “I think she’s not only planning to leave me, she’s planning to leave the Hot Six. I think she’s found another band.”

  “You’re close. She had an audition at the Spider’s Web downtown, and she performs this Friday night.”

  “I knew it! Damn! It’s those songs of hers, those weird, tuneless songs. The words don’t make sense. There’s no melody. Why would she want to sing them when there’re so many great old songs around?”

  Camden, as usual, tried to be diplomatic. “Maybe she just wants to try something different.”

  “And forget the good stuff? She’s crazy. Nobody’ll listen to that weird music except dried-up nutballs from the college.”

  I had to grin at the dramatics. “Tell us how you really feel.”

  “If this is the reason she’s been so standoffish, I understand.”

  “Well, there might be another problem.”

  He took a long drag on the cigarette. “Tell me.”

  “You’re right about the nutballs from the college, only they aren’t weird and dried up. Taffy’s been taking a songwriting course at PCC, and the instructor is muy macho.”

  “A songwriting course? Oh, I’ll bet he goes on and on about how wonderful her songs are.”

  “He seems to think she’s got talent.”

  “Who is this guy?”

  “Manuel Estaban.”

  Charlie dropped his cigarette and ground it out with his shoe. “Well, that’s just dandy.”

  “I have a plan, if you’d care to hear it.”

  He folded his arms. “Go ahead.”

  “Come to her concert. Sit on the front row. Smile and act like you’re enjoying yourself. It can’t fail.”

  “Sit through a whole evening of those songs? My teeth are aching already.”

  “Do it for her. She’ll love you for it.”

  He took a long moment to consider. “It’s this Friday night?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s opening night. I couldn’t possibly go.”

  “Kary can play the show, right? What’s more important?”

  Another long pause. “A whole program, like, two hours?”

  “At least.”

  He took out his cigarettes. “I don’t know, Randall.”

  “I can’t stand soap operas, but I let Kary tell me whole plots. And there isn’t enough time to go into the sacrifices Camden has made for Ellin, but I think he signed his soul away a couple of years back.”

  Camden gave me a dark look. “I still have my soul, thanks.”

  “Okay, but that’s all you have left. Sometimes you have to give a little, Charlie. You can afford to give up one Friday night. Put those away. You just had one.”

  He stuffed the pack of cigarettes back into his pocket. “She doesn’t understand what music means to me.”

  “You don’t understand what it means to her. You’re even. Be a man and come to the concert.”

  “Let me get back to you on that. See you later, guys.”

  He got in his car and drove off.

  I watched him go. “Think he’ll challenge Estaban to a duel?”

  “I hope not,” Camden said.

  “He’d better go to that concert. I can’t have him hanging around Kary every day.”

  Kary came out to the porch in time to hear me say this. “Can’t have who hanging around?”

  Damn. “Oh, nothing. I was just mentioning to Camden that Charlie’s been spending a lot of time here lately.”

  “And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “No, no. Not a thing.” There was an uncomfortable silence. “He said he’d talked to you about Taffy.”

  She gave me a long, considering look. “Yes, it’s too bad when two people can’t be completely honest with each other.”

  I knew I’d better tread carefully. “If he’ll go to one of her concerts, she’ll see he cares about her music.”

  “Then I hope he does.” Thankfully, she changed the subject. “Cam said you went to talk to George’s cousin. What did she say?”

  “The cousin, Lucy Warner, identified George’s body and brought his doberman, Danger, to her new home, which just happens to be Viola’s home on Marshall Street.”

  “That’s bizarre.”

  “She said she’d decided to buy the house before all this happened. The good thing is she’s looking after Viola’s pets.”

  “She does know a murder was committed there?”

  “Doesn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. She told me she didn’t know George very well, but couldn’t imagine him having any enemies or being disloyal to BeautiQueen. She said the company may be in financial trouble, which I will check on. Right now there doesn’t seem to be any reason for George’s suicide, but he may have stumbled across a formula a rival company would kill to have.”

  Kary thought a moment. “But George’s cousin moving into Viola’s house is too much of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

  “It is a little strange.”

  “We should find out if there’s a connection between George and Viola, and even more importantly, we need to work on our cover story for the Baby Love affair.”

  We had to get that over with. “We can go undercover any time. Now, if you like.”

  “Well, not right now.” She checked her watch. “I have a student coming for a piano lesson. Is it your turn to cook, David?”

  “I’ll choose something from our vas
t array of funeral food.”

  “Cam, are we expecting any more guests?”

  “Just Ellie.”

  The way he said this made Kary frown. “What now?”

  “He’s calling off the wedding,” I said. “Get out the dustpan and get ready to sweep up the pieces.”

  Her eyes widened. “Are you serious? Cam, have you lost your mind?”

  “I wish I could! I can’t marry her and risk passing on this crazy talent to our children.”

  “I thought you had worked that out.”

  “Not exactly. There’s something else.” I could see the debate in his eyes. “Something I haven’t told you.”

  “So tell me.”

  He pushed out of the swing. “Watch this.”

  The large plastic trash cans came hopping around the corner, lids flapping. They made a circle of the yard and clumped back to their place at the side of the house. Kary’s mouth fell open.

  “And this.”

  All the branches that had fallen during the last thunderstorm rolled down to the curb and stacked themselves in a neat pile.

  His voice was on the rise. “And this!”

  Before he could topple the oak trees or peel off the gutters, Kary caught his arm. “Stop.” She pulled him back into the swing and sat down beside him. “Oh, my God. When did this start?”

  He caught his breath. “A few days ago.”

  “Do you have any idea what caused it?”

  “Being born.”

  “Born alien,” I said.

  “Yes, my weird alien powers continue to manifest.”

  “‘Manifest.’ Excellent choice.”

  Kary gave me a quick Teacher Look and returned to her consoling. “All right, it’s weird and spooky and bizarre, but you can control it.”

  “For now, yes. But who knows what it’ll do next?”

  “That’s just it, Cam. No one knows. It could go away. It could skip a generation.”

  “It could grow until you destroy the earth,” I said. “That’s my theory.”

  “Very funny. Look how hard I’m laughing.”

  Kary put her hand on his shoulder. “Cam, Ellin loves you. She’ll stick by you no matter what.”

  “But you know her. She’ll go crazy. Tee-shirts, action figures, the works.” He pushed his hair out of his eyes. “And here’s the really scary part. Our three children—I know they’re going to be psychic. What if they have all these strange talents, too? I don’t know what to do. I think we ought to wait until I can control it better before we get married.”

  “How long did it take you to learn how to control all the visions?”

  He paused. “Two years.”

  “Is Ellin going to wait two years? She’s not going to wait two minutes. Marry her and then deal with the problem.” He put his head down in his hands, and she patted him on the back. “You’ve just had Fred’s funeral, and you’re anxious about the wedding. All this emotional upheaval is causing a little short circuit, that’s all.”

  “I hope so,” he said.

  “What else have you moved?”

  “The other day, I stopped Folly’s car from running into her.”

  “So it’s a useful talent.”

  “I appreciate your efforts to look on the bright side, but this power is getting stronger, and I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

  “You would never hurt anyone, and you know it.”

  “But does this power know it?”

  Neither Kary nor I had an answer for that.

  “It’s no use,” Camden said. “I have to call off the wedding.”

  ***

  We couldn’t convince him to abort his suicide mission. With Ellin coming over, I didn’t want to be within a fifty-mile radius of the house, but it was my turn to fix supper. Kary’s student came for his lesson, and afterwards, she went upstairs to finish packing Fred’s meager belongings. I was in the kitchen checking through the many casseroles when Ellin arrived. I could hear her talking to Camden in the island. After a few minutes of kind words for old Fred, she was chattering away about how pleased Folly was with his help and flowers and candles for the wedding when he interrupted.

  “Ellie, we have to talk.”

  Here we go. Stop, drop and roll.

  “About what?”

  Camden took a breath and took the plunge. “We can’t get married.”

  I didn’t hear anything, so I risked a peek around the corner. I was surprised to see Ellin still in place instead of catapulting to the ceiling.

  “Cam.” She put her arms around him. “This is probably a case of pre-wedding jitters. I have them, too. It’s a big step for both of us.”

  “No. It’s not that.”

  “What, then? You’re not taking what Mother says to heart, are you? She really loves you. She just has her own screwy ideas on what my life should be.”

  “This isn’t about your mother. It’s about me. We need to wait.”

  Her voice slid up an octave. “Wait?”

  “Something’s happened. I don’t know how to explain it.”

  She pushed him away. “What are you talking about? We can’t wait. Everything is planned. Everything is ready. Come hell or high water, the wedding is May thirty-first.” There was a pause as if something had occurred to her. “Oh, my God. You see something, don’t you? Something disastrous happening at the wedding. What is it? Can it be avoided?”

  From my vantage point, I saw the blue armchair quivering as if readying for takeoff. Camden saw it, too. He took a careful step to the side to keep Ellin’s back to the chair and set his mouth in a firm line. The chair remained in place.

  “If things could be avoided, believe me, I’d take care of it. You have no idea.”

  “What are you saying? Are we destined for divorce? Is one of us going to die?”

  This time, the lamp in the corner began to rise. Camden shot it a quick look, and it settled back down. “God, I hope not.”

  I thought she’d really blow a fuse, but she surprised me again. She touched his arm and turned him to face her. “Cam, look at me. What is it? Whatever it is, I’ll understand. We’ll find an answer. You’ve got me imagining all the worst things. It can’t be that bad, can it? Are you freaking out because of your change issues? Everything changes, Cam. You have to deal with it.”

  His glance scanned the room on the lookout for more levitations. “Too many things are changing too fast.”

  “No, they’re not. We’ve been living together for months, and I know you like it. Just because we marry doesn’t mean you have to stop eating Pop-Tarts, or stop singing, or stop wearing your god-awful sloppy clothes. Well, I may have to trash your clothes, but that’s for another day.”

  With the room in control, he brought his gaze back to her. “I’ve had a lot to deal with, Ellie. I just lost Fred, and seeing Viola buried in her basement is going to haunt me for a long time. When they find a house, Rufus and Angie are moving out. Everything’s moving in all directions. I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a tornado.”

  This was as close as he could get to telling her the truth.

  “Isn’t that why I’m here? Or do you love me only for my vision-erasing capability?”

  “Don’t go there. You know that’s not the only reason.”

  “Then man up and tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I’ve told you I’m concerned about the kids—”

  The famous Belton patience was fraying. “We are not going to have children! And if we do, you are going to take care of them. Tell me what’s wrong, or I’m walking out that door and never coming back.”

  Come on, Camden. You don’t want that, do you? That’s what I want, sure, but I’m not the one who’s telekinetic.

  Before he could say anything, she thought of something else. “Cam, this better not have
anything to do with the fact that I’m not psychic.”

  Let’s see you get around this one, buddy.

  “Trust me, Ellie, you would not want any sort of supernatural power. You’ve got enough natural power of your own.”

  She put her arms around him again. “You know I love you, and if you get possessed by another nutty musician, or have flashbacks to murders, or go wandering off after UFOs, or feel overwhelmed by all the changes, I’ll be here for you, you know that, blocking out the harmful rays. That’s one thing your pal Randall can’t do.”

  For God’s sake, tell her, Camden. She’ll never be this agreeable again.

  He must have thought he needed to protect her, or else the memories of his psychic childhood were too awful and he dreaded putting his children through that trauma. He hesitated a moment too long.

  She’d had enough. “Fine. You have until May thirty-first to get over whatever this is, do you hear me? Get over it!”

  The front door slammed. I waited a moment and then looked around the corner. Camden stood in the middle of the room. All around him, all the items from the coffee table and a couple of kittens were hovering in the air in a sad little circle.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I’m an ordinary man.”

  Wednesday morning, before my visit to BeautiQueen, I went online and was surprised to discover Folly Harper listed as a member of the board of Tecknilabs, as well as First Federal Bank and Burlson and Rawls Industries. The woman was loaded. No wonder it was no problem to write those peach-colored checks. According to the latest Business Weekly report, BeautiQueen products were up fifty percent. That’s a lot of eyeliner. But nothing indicated any sort of financial trouble. If George thought Folly was being foolish with the company funds, all he had to do was check. As far as I could see, BeautiQueen showed no signs of aging. So why take the money and run? If he needed dough, all he had to do was ask.

  Folly greeted me at the office of BeautiQueen. “I can give you the full tour, David. Where would you like to begin?”

  “Wherever you like.”

  As we walked down peach colored corridors, Folly sniffed and dabbed her eyes with her peach handkerchief. “I’m so sorry. I can’t stop thinking about poor George. Who in the world could have killed him? Did his cousin have any ideas?”