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

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Just You Wait: A Grace Street Mystery (Grace Street Mysteries) Page 23

by Jane Tesh


  Fortunately, a maid passed by with her rolling cart and gave the woman a look that made the redhead hop up. “I’d better get back to the desk.”

  Alone in room 130, I tried to imagine the scene. George meets Ed and they come back to the room. George kills Ed and flees—but how? He left his SUV because Lucy claimed it when she came to ID the body and pick up Danger.

  Room 130 was on the corner with easy access to the outside. I walked out and looked around. The Green Palms lived up to its name. There were plenty of palm trees and bushes, all kinds of places someone could hide. George could’ve had a suitcase packed and a cab waiting up the street, but he had only moments to get away, because hotel employees heard the sound of the shotgun.

  I tried out my theory. I could walk from the hotel to the nearest street using the palm trees as a cover in two minutes. The street was lined with coffee shops and restaurants. George could’ve ducked into any one of these and even had a leisurely meal while all the excitement went on at the hotel. If he had blood on his clothes, he could’ve changed in any restroom. And if he had some sort of fake ID, he could’ve rented a car and driven back to North Carolina.

  I realized I was giving George a lot of credit and imagination, but he supposedly killed himself on May 10th. According to Monica, Ed had been missing since the 9th.

  I wasn’t going to take any chances with the redhead at the Green Palms, so I returned to the motel where I’d stayed the first night. I called home to let Kary know I’d be back later and promised to tell her all the details. Then I had three calls. The first was from Charlie.

  “Randall, I’m calling to let you know everything went great at Visions. Taffy’s thrilled with her CD. She can’t stop talking about it. Catch you later.”

  One crisis averted.

  The second call was from Ted at the Drug Palace. “Randall, Ted here. When you get a chance, come by the store. I’m getting rid of those bracelets and thought Kary might like to have one.”

  The third call was from Folly Harper. “David, are you there? This is Folly Harper. I have wonderful news. We’ve finally got the right formula for our Extra Whip Moisturizing Deluxe cream! We’re launching it at the preliminary competition of the Miss Parkland Pageant Thursday night. This is so exciting! Is Cam there? Tell him all about it. I’m sure he’ll want to know, even though the numbers he saw were Bingo numbers. That’s certainly not his fault if that’s what he saw in my head.”

  Well, hooray for BeautiQueen. No more eyebrowless women.

  Now I had to make a call. I wanted Lucy Warner to know that George was possibly alive. I imagined the news was going to be shock.

  When she answered the phone, I could hear cheeps and growls in the background.

  “Yes, Mr. Randall. What’s this all about?”

  “Mrs. Warner, I don’t think the body you identified in Florida was George. I think someone else was murdered, a man that was supposed to be George.”

  “But I’m certain that was George.”

  “I’m sorry to mention this, but wasn’t most of George’s face gone?”

  “I would’ve known that moustache anywhere.”

  What was left of it. “I believe the person you identified was Edwin Bailey, a classmate of George’s with very similar features.”

  “But why would someone kill him? That sounds crazy.”

  “I think it has to do with a valuable formula for a skin cream.”

  “So you think George is alive?”

  “It’s entirely possible.”

  “But then, why wouldn’t he contact someone, Mrs. Harper, or the police?”

  Because for one thing, I believe he murdered Edwin Bailey. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s afraid the killer will come after him.”

  “Surely he would try to contact me, if only to find out if Danger is all right.”

  “I think that’s exactly what he’ll do. You’ve got to let me know the minute you hear anything. Tell him I know someone has stolen ingredients in an attempt to duplicate the anti-aging formula. Once we find these thieves, I bet we find the person responsible for the murder.”

  She sniffed as if trying to hold back tears. “This is so bizarre, Mr. Randall. First I think George is dead, and now you say he may be alive, but hiding somewhere, all because of some stupid face cream?”

  “That’s what it looks like. Is there anyone else he might turn to?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Unfortunately, neither did I.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  “Without you…”

  Wednesday, I spent going around to the taxi companies in the area and asking if they’d had a fare matching George’s description on May tenth. No one had. Next I tried the rental car companies. No luck there, either. One woman remembered a man with a large moustache, but she was certain it had been red. Maybe George dyed his moustache. More than likely, he would’ve shaved it off. Maybe he had a getaway car stashed somewhere in the bushes near the Green Palms Hotel. Would he have gone to such elaborate lengths?

  I had a flight out early Thursday morning, but thanks to mechanical problems and a couple of thunderstorms, I didn’t get back to Parkland until after five. When I got to 302 Grace, no one was home. I figured Rufus and Angie were checking out the house on River Street, and Kary was at pageant rehearsal. Camden had probably been dragged away on wedding business.

  I went into the kitchen to fix some peanut butter crackers. I was searching in the cabinets for the crackers when Kary came in, carrying the black and white kitten.

  “Hi, David. We weren’t sure when you’d be home.”

  “Got in a little while ago. Where is everybody?”

  “Rufus and Angie went to a friend’s birthday party, and Ellin wanted Cam to help her figure out the seating arrangement for the wedding reception. You can imagine how excited he was about that.”

  “I’m sure he was thrilled. Are we out of crackers?”

  “There should be some above the fridge.”

  I found a pack of saltines and brought them to the counter. “Here’s the latest on George. You know I went to Clearwater to track down his old college buddy, Ed Bailey. Ed hasn’t been seen in a week, and his girlfriend’s worried about him. She said he went to meet George at George’s hotel and never came home. She thinks George’s suicide upset him. I think Ed is more than upset. I think it’s entirely possible George killed him and took his place.”

  “Why?”

  “Maybe this skin cream formula is more valuable than anyone thought.”

  Kary sat down across from me and put the kitten in her lap. I’d noticed how often she cuddled one of the little fur balls. Connecting with a baby. Any baby. “I had a talk with Amelia Tilley at pageant practice last night. I didn’t have any trouble getting her to talk about George. She told me all about him. I’m sure it’s the same thing she told you, only this was the full version, live and in color. The interesting thing was, she said they got along at first. She felt sympathy for him because he told her she was the first woman who listened to him and his grand plans for the cosmetics industry. It was only when he started talking about how they could be partners in this adventure that she got concerned.”

  “Wait a minute. She went out with him? She didn’t tell me that.”

  Kary gave me a long meaningful look. “Women don’t tell you everything, David.”

  Ouch. “Point well taken. But this could be important. How long did they date?”

  “She went out with him only a few times before she realized he was getting way too serious.”

  “Serious as in wanting to marry her?”

  “She was afraid things were headed in that direction. She said she tried to let him down easy.”

  “He was bound to think, I finally found the right woman, and she won’t have me.”

  “So when she refused him, he went nuts? Does that so
und reasonable?”

  “I’m not sure anything about George is reasonable. Did he propose to Amelia?”

  “He did.”

  “And she said no.” Knowing how strongly I felt about Kary and how devastated I’d be if she completely refused me, I had a second of empathy with George. Only a second. “Does Amelia seem like the kind of woman who’d find a way to get rid of a pest like George?”

  “I don’t think so. She said this happens to her all the time, but George was one of the most persistent.”

  “She doesn’t live alone, does she?”

  “She mentioned her sister was in town for the pageant and staying with her. Do I need to warn her?”

  “No, don’t frighten her. I’m still not certain.”

  “But you believe George McMillan still walks among us?”

  “I told Lucy Warner to call if he contacts her. If he’s alive, I figure he’ll want to know how his dog is getting along.”

  Kary picked up the knife and spread peanut butter on a cracker. “Now here’s my big news. I found someone else at the theater who remembers George. Our set designer has a niece in the pageant, so he came to the theater last night. He also did the set for Arsenic and Old Lace. He remembers George and told me he didn’t think George would commit suicide because he thought way too much of himself. He thinks his one reason for being in a show was to meet women. He heard George in the wings all the time, bragging about how important he was to BeautiQueen, how they couldn’t run the place without him. I asked him if he ever heard George mention Folly Harper or Amelia Tilley, and he said when George wasn’t talking about himself, he was in a corner going over his lines or getting into character. Like Nathan, fellow who played Colonel Pickering in My Fair Lady. ‘Don’t speak to me. I’m centering.’ He never wanted anyone to talk to him before he went on stage. There’s a big difference between Nathan and George, though. Nathan could act. And he got the women, too.”

  From what I remembered, the fellow playing Pickering was an older man, old and bald. George must have been boiling with frustration.

  “Did you ask the set designer if George had made any enemies in the Arsenic cast?”

  She licked a stray dab of peanut butter off her thumb. “Yes, and he said he didn’t think so, even though George was standoffish. He tried talking to him, but he wasn’t very friendly. He didn’t understand why George wasn’t having a good time playing Teddy, because it’s almost impossible to mess up that role. You yell, ‘Charge!’ and run up the stairs. But he did remember one thing that might be the clue we’re looking for. He was backstage painting some scenery when he overheard George and Viola having an argument.”

  “Please tell me he remembered what it was about.”

  “Oh, he did. Viola told George he was a crass little man and she could not believe he’d given her such a shoddy product. George said what are you talking about, and Viola said his cream was horrible and had irritated her skin. He started spluttering apologies and begging her not to tell anyone, and she interrupted him, which must be the worst thing you can do to George. He got angry and called Viola a bitch and an interfering old biddy, and that’s when the designer stepped in and told George where to stick it. He said he couldn’t stand by and hear Viola called such names, and that George stalked out, furious. He remembers because Viola didn’t thank him for coming to her defense. She said she could take care of herself and for him to mind his own business. He said that was the last time he would try to do anything nice for her.”

  “‘His cream was horrible and had irritated her skin.’ That doesn’t sound like BeautiQueen.”

  Kary rearranged the kitten, who was trying to reach the counter. “Viola must have had an allergic reaction to the cream.”

  “And George pleads with her not to tell anyone, or his career would be jeopardized.”

  “But she threatens to tell, so he has to kill her, and he figured he’d better kill Millicent, too, because the two women were friends, and Viola might have told Millicent.”

  “Millicent might have threatened to tell on him, too. Camden said he sensed something odd in Millicent’s face and hands, and at the cast party she told me the cream didn’t agree with her. What’s George doing going around giving out bad cream?”

  “It must have been a mistake, or something in the cream didn’t agree with those two women. Isn’t Folly always tinkering with the formula?”

  “But if it’s an allergic reaction, all George had to do was apologize and report the problem to Folly. It wouldn’t ruin his career, would it, unless it’s indicative of a bigger problem.” I reached for the peanut butter. “Of course, all this hinges on the somewhat sketchy idea that George is alive. I’m not sure how I’m going to prove that.”

  “Be on the lookout for more sub-standard face cream and bottles of poisoned wine.”

  “That’s entirely possible. Excellent work, partner.”

  “Thank you.”

  I fixed another cracker. “On the lighter side of the news, Charlie took Taffy to Visions Studio so she could make a CD of her songs, and now all is well.”

  Kary chuckled. “You thought Charlie was after me, didn’t you?” As I stammered for a reply, she said, “That’s why you went to such lengths to get him and Taffy back together.”

  Why did I think I could hide anything from her? “Okay, you got me.”

  “David, Charlie is charming and talented, but I’ve done enough baby-sitting in my time. He drinks and smokes too much and is totally unreliable. If she wants to, and if she’s got the patience, Taffy’s the one who can straighten him out.”

  I’m sure I looked pathetically relieved. “I’ll admit I was a little worried.”

  “No need to worry. We’re working on a relationship, aren’t we?”

  “Well, I am, definitely.”

  I hoped she’d reply with something even more encouraging, but she changed the subject. “Do you know if Cam sent his mother a wedding invitation?”

  Camden’s foster parents had passed away, and despite his reluctance, I’d found his birth mother, but she didn’t want to make contact. At least, that’s what she told me.

  “I doubt she’d come.”

  “But she might want to know. You have her address and phone number, don’t you?”

  I’d kept that information just in case Camden ever changed his mind. “Yes, but you’d better wait and see what Camden says about that.”

  “And Daisy? Didn’t you find her, too? She might like to come.”

  Camden had reconnected with his foster parents’ daughter, but she was much older and hadn’t been able to travel. “I don’t know. Camden’s the one who should call her.”

  “Is Sophia going to be able to come?”

  My mother was on a round-the-world cruise. “She sends her love, but she’ll be frolicking in the Mediterranean on May 31st.”

  “I want to make sure his side of the church is full.”

  “Are you kidding? You know how many friends he has. Ellin will have Reg, Bonnie, and Teresa from the PSN, a few more family members, and that’s it.”

  “You’re forgetting her mother’s society friends.”

  Country club on one side, circus on the other. “Then it ought to be an interesting ceremony.”

  ***

  As I lay in bed that night, I thought of my own weddings. I didn’t remember a lot about my first wedding. I did remember how beautiful Barbara looked. My second wedding, a disastrous attempt to reorganize my life and start another family, was also a blur, filled with anxiety and guilt. The marriage hadn’t lasted very long. And now here I was, contemplating another marriage. But this one would be different, wouldn’t it? I loved Kary and I hoped she loved me, and if we could find some common ground regarding children—which I was afraid we couldn’t manage—then all would be well.

  I couldn’t sleep. I turned on my CD player an
d listened to the New Black Eagle Jazz Band long into the night. It didn’t matter what they played. I wanted the lively music to keep me from thinking about anything else.

  ***

  I hardly ever oversleep, but all my soul searching made me sleep later than usual. It was almost ten thirty in the morning when I came down to the kitchen. Camden must have had a sleepless night, as well. He was fixing his usual nutritious breakfast of brown sugar Pop-Tarts and Coke.

  “You get shanghaied last night?” I asked.

  “Twice. Once to choose the type of cake, and then again to go over the list of people who’ve said they’re coming to the wedding and where they will sit.”

  “And the cake of choice is?”

  “It’s down to yellow cake with strawberry cream frosting versus chocolate cake with buttercream frosting. I ate as much as possible while they were deciding.”

  “You and the entire Belton women clan?”

  His Pop-Tarts popped up, and he put them on a plate. “Sandra and Caroline are having a big old time, but if Ellie and her mother get any more tense, they’re going to snap in two.” He took his plate and large plastic cup of Coke and sat down on one of the stools at the counter. “What did you find out in Florida?”

  I got a bowl out of the cabinet and brought the cornflakes and milk to the counter and sat down across from him. “Edwin Bailey’s missing. His landlady thinks he’s run off to avoid paying the rent, but his girlfriend’s really worried about him.” I shook cornflakes into the bowl and added milk. “She told me Ed was excited to meet his old college friend George at the Green Palms Hotel, but Ed never made it home. She thinks he found George’s body and it freaked him out. I think George figured his buddy Ed’s body would make a good substitute for his own.”

  “Why would he kill Ed?”

  “Yeah, why fake his death, at all?” I crunched a few spoonfuls of cornflakes. “For some reason, George wanted his cousin Lucy to be the one to identify the body. I guess he wanted someone reliable to come get his dog and his car, someone who hadn’t seen him since last Christmas.” I ate a few more bites of cereal. “How’s your new talent coming along? Levitate some toast over here.”

 

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