by Marja McGraw
They Call Me Ace
They Call Me Ace
A Bogey Man Mystery
by
Marja McGraw
The Bogey Man Mysteries
Bogey Nights
Bogey’s Ace in the Hole
Awkward Moments
They Call Me Ace
The Sandi Webster Mysteries
A Well-Kept Family Secret
Bubba’s Ghost
Prudy’s Back!
The Bogey Man
Old Murders Never Die
Death Comes in Threes
Coming Soon –
What Are the Odds?
And Don’t Miss
Mysteries of Holt House
THEY CALL ME ACE, A Bogey Man Mystery, Copyright 2013, 2014, by Marja McGraw. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations used in critical articles and reviews. For information, contact Marja McGraw at [email protected].
First Edition, February, 2013
Second Edition, July, 2014
Cover by Marja McGraw
Silhouette by Andy Kohut
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
For my grandson, Cody, who would have made a great child detective when he was young, had the circumstances been what they are for Mikey Cross. His curiosity would have served him well.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thank you to Judy, Dorothy and Susan for your continued support and superb critiquing skills and comments. You make the writing process a pleasure. Thank you to Al for reading the book and letting me know when something doesn’t quite work, and for his support. Last, but not least, thank you to the readers who make all the effort worth it.
I’d also like to thank Tricia Lee for contributing the name Cloene to a Character Name Contest I held on my website. The real Cloene had a tragic life, and although she’s not a main character in this story, I was able to give the fictional Cloene a happy ending.
Chapter One
The door to Bogey Nights opened with a bang. Mikey, our seven-year-old son, bent over and gasped for breath while my heart dropped to the floor. He’d left with his grandmother half an hour earlier to get an ice cream cone, and I didn’t see her coming through the door behind him.
“Mikey, what’s wrong? Is your grandma parking the car?”
He shook his head. Rushing around the reservation desk of my husband’s and my forties-themed restaurant, I grabbed Mikey’s arms, pushing him toward a chair where he could sit down and catch his breath. He patted his chest with his small hand. I glanced toward the door he’d just rushed through. “Where’s your grandmother?” Panic began to overwhelm me as he tried to talk.
“Pamela, what’s going on?” Chris asked, dropping to his knees in front of Mikey. My husband sounded calmer than I did, but I knew he could see something was really wrong and he hadn’t even heard the questions I’d thrown at our son.
Phyllis, who looks very much like Marilyn Monroe and who’s one of our waitresses, hurried over with a glass of
water. “Here. Mikey looks like he needs this.” She tactfully
walked away while we tried to find out what was happening, although I could see her turn an ear in our direction.
“Grandma Judy and I just found a mystery,” Mikey said loudly, jumping up and practically bouncing out of his shoes. Looking around and noticing customers watching him, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “And it’s a good one.” His curly dark blond hair was mussed, and he appeared to be half frightened and half excited.
“Excuse me? You and Grandma did what? Where is she? And where’s my car?” My son’s appearance told me we needed answers, and we needed them quickly. When he left the restaurant he was neat and clean, wearing slacks and a dress shirt with suspenders, trying to look like he was from the forties era. Now I saw a tear in his pants along with the messy hair. One suspender had come undone and there was dirt on the sleeve of his shirt. His blue eyes were wide and bright – so were mine.
“We found ourselves a real live mystery. I think we found a den of antiquity!” He’d stepped closer to me and Chris. “Grandma Judy and I were driving to the Ice Cream Hut and we saw this old, broken down house. There was a light up on the second floor, and Grandma slowed down to watch it.” He stopped and took a drink of water before taking a deep breath. His back straightened and I knew we were about to hear the whole story, with some childlike drama thrown in for effect.
“Grandma Judy decided to pull over and look at the house. She said she could tell no one lived there, and she wanted to see what was going on. I think maybe we found a ghost mystery. The light we saw wasn’t like somebody turned on the lights – it was like a candle floating in front of the window.” He gently moved his hand in front of us with his
fingers wiggling, demonstrating what a floating candle
might look like.
I glanced up at Chris. He was shaking his head. His mother could be a little flighty sometimes, and I had a feeling this was one of those times.
Mikey was taking too long to tell us the story. I prodded him. “Would you please just tell us what happened?”
“Well, Grandma Judy told me to wait in the car. Oh, and she made me lock all the car doors. Anyway, she said she’d be right back, and she went inside the old house.” Mikey was squinting and he was slightly hunched over, trying to draw every bit of drama he could out of the story.
“Ace,” Chris said, taking hold of our son’s shoulders, “where’s my mother?” Chris’s nickname for Mikey made my son straighten up.
“Well, that’s the thing, Dad. She never came back. She went inside the house and I waited for her, but she didn’t come out. So I got out of the car and ran all the way back here.” He ran his hand across his forehead, indicating he’d had a rough time. “I fell down once, too.”
“Okay, Ace, let me find your grandpa and you can show us where this house is,” Chris said. He turned to me. “Pamela, ask Phyllis and Gloria to watch the restaurant while we go look for my cockamamie mother.”
Turning around, I saw Gloria looking in our direction. I motioned her over and she hurried toward me. She was our token Myrna Loy look-alike. When you have a themed restaurant like ours, you look for people who fit the role.
“I’ll go find my dad,” Chris said. “I think he’s in the lounge, listening to the music.” He was agitated and took long strides toward the other room.
I was fussing over Mikey and trying to explain to Gloria about watching the restaurant when she pointed over my shoulder, toward the door. Judith walked in looking cool as a cucumber. Gloria returned to her customers.
“Where have you been?” I pursed my lips and firmly placed my hands on my hips. “You had us all scared to death. We were about to come looking for you.”
“Now, Pamela, don’t get your knickers in a knot.” Judith appeared to be very pleased with herself. “Mikey and I happened on to something on our way to get an ice cream cone.”
She handed me my car keys.
“So I heard. You could have stayed here for ice cream.” I tried to hang on to the shreds of my temper. I mean, it’s only three blocks to the Ice Cream Hut. It wasn’t like they were going on some big outing. “Do you realize Mikey ran all the way to the restaurant because of you? It’s dark out there, and anything could have happened – not to mention he was
afraid something had happened to you.”
“But nothing did happen, did it?” She smiled sweetly and patted Mikey on the back.
Ignoring her for the moment, I turned to my son. “Mikey, go wait for me in my office. Sherlock and Watson can keep you company.”
Our two yellow Labrador retrievers were outside in a little yard behind the restaurant. Mikey knew if he closed the door between the kitchen and my office he could let the dogs in the back way.
“And make sure they’ve got plenty of water.”
After giving him a gentle shove in the general direction of the kitchen and my office, I took hold of Judith’s tiny little hand and led her to the cocktail lounge, mumbling to myself all the way.
Chris was at the bar talking excitedly to his father, so I tapped him on the shoulder as I walked by. They glanced up and after seeing Judith was safe, followed us to a quiet table. Well, as quiet as it could be with a band playing Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy. I could see the look of concern on Chris’s face slowly morph into an expression of both anger and disgust.
I glanced at Chris Sr. “Your wife was just going to tell me about a mystery she and Mikey seem to have dug up. Mikey said they found a ‘den of antiquity.’”
Chris Sr. didn’t look upset. Instead he appeared to be amused. I frowned at him, but he’d already turned his attention to Judith.
Chris’s lips tightened before he spoke to his mother. “The last time someone dug up a mystery around here it was a dead body – and it was located in the basement of this restaurant. Mother, I always knew you had bats in the belfry, but you’ve gone too far this time. You left Ace in the car by himself while you went on some goofy ghost hunt. Why, I – ”
“Chris, calm down for a minute,” I said, patting his knee. “Let’s find out what’s going on before we lock your mother in her room for the rest of her life.” I smiled sweetly at Judith before digging my nails into Chris’s knee.
“It’s simple,” Judith said, waving her hand across the table. “Ace and I saw this deserted old house, and there was a flickering light up on the second floor. We’d just been talking about finding a mystery of our own, because he wants to solve one like you and Junior do – ”
“Don’t call me Junior,” Chris interrupted.
Chris Sr. patted Chris’s shoulder.
Judith flicked her fingers at him before continuing. “As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, Mikey and I wanted to find a mystery to solve. Something simple, preferably with no danger.”
I felt my eyes widen just before I rolled them. “You know, Judith, we try to keep Mikey away from the uglier side of life.”
“Oh? And how’s that working out for ya?” she asked, turning to me with a huge grin hugging the lower part of her face. Judith knew full well Mikey had become involved in our last case at a very inopportune moment, and we weren’t happy about it.
Judith looked me in the eyes, and I looked right back. I broke and lowered my eyes first. She was such a pretty woman, and she didn’t look nearly her age. Her blond hair was cut in a relatively short style, partly straight and partly curly, and it suited her heart-shaped face. Her flawless complexion complemented her light brown eyes. At sixty, she was only very lightly wrinkled.
I glanced at Chris, who rolled his eyes before giving me an I-told-you-so look. I have a bad habit of rolling my eyes. Apparently, it’s catching. He tried to warn me about his mother on our way to the restaurant earlier in the day. He said the last time he’d talked to her on the phone she seemed a little too interested in the fact that we keep inadvertently becoming involved in mysteries, adding she’s a bit eccentric and she’s very outspoken. He said, “My mother is not your typical everyday mother. Don’t expect her to act like your mother, Pamela. And don’t expect my dad to take control. She doesn’t take direction well, and he doesn’t like to give it. He’s perfectly happy to let her do whatever she wants.”
I’d only met Chris’s parents twice, at our wedding and during the holidays at his brother’s home, although I spoke to his mother frequently on the phone. Chris told me some interesting stories about growing up with her, but I’d always thought he was exaggerating.
So, here we were, waiting for Judith to tell us what was going on. And she was excited; I could see it in her expression.
“Would you please get on with your story, Mom?” Chris asked through gritted teeth.
“Oh, it’s a good one, and it may be right up your alley.” She grinned, reminding me of a little girl who was about to get her own way.
Chris and I glanced at each other, expecting the worst. Judith was making the pit of my stomach feel like I was looking down from the top of a ten story building.
“Someone was in that house – upstairs. When I called
yoo hoo up the stairs, they disappeared.”
She called out yoo hoo to an intruder? My mouth dropped open. She had guts, I’d give her that.
Chris waved at our bartender, apparently thinking a drink might be in order, but Daniel was busy and didn’t see him. Chris’s nerve tonic would have to wait.
Chapter Two
Recalling the night our original restaurant burned down, and how the far off cry of the sirens seemed to turn into a frantic wail while I waited for the fire department, I knew my current state of unease could be worse.
Of course, the restaurant burning down and Chris’s parents coming to visit were two totally different scenarios. We’d bought a 1920s brick house and renovated it into a new restaurant, Bogey Nights. Such wouldn’t be the case with Chris’s parents. I couldn’t burn them down and rebuild them. Well, I hadn’t burned down the restaurant, either. But it would have helped it they’d warned us they were coming.
Oh, good grief. What a terrible thought to have. I adore my husband’s parents, even though I don’t know them well yet. It’s just that it didn’t look like his mother, Judith, was going to be such a good influence on our son. I mean, it’s not like she’d be a bad influence, but…
Mikey brags about the fact that Chris and I have become involved in solving crimes. He thinks it’s exciting. I, for one, call murder seedy, not exciting. And even though we’ve tried to keep Mikey, well, uninformed, he always seems
to figure out what’s going on.
Now Judith and Chris Sr. were in town, and Grandma Judy had decided she and Mikey needed a mystery of their own to solve. Although Mikey isn’t her biological grandson, she still insisted he call her Grandma Judy. That’s okay. I like the fact that she doesn’t care about bloodlines or DNA. She accepted my son as one of the family, and that’s all that matters. Chris is in the process of legally adopting him, so it’s all moot anyway.
Let me back up a little. I was a widowed mother raising my six-year-old son alone after I lost my husband to cancer, and I was working two jobs when I met Chris Cross. Chris bears an amazing resemblance to Humphrey Bogart, and he’s used that to his advantage on a number of occasions. Meeting me was one of those times. He played it up big, talking and walking like the real Bogey, and sweeping me off my feet.
We’d attended a costume party, although not together because I hadn’t met him yet, and there was a murder committed right under our noses. I was briefly a suspect, although I’ve never killed anything more than a fly in my whole life.
A friend, who happens to be a private investigator, ended up introducing Chris and me. She had no idea what she was starting by bringing him into the diner where I worked. Nature took its course and Chris and I hit it off, soon marrying and opening our first restaurant.
So there we were – Chris, me and Mikey, not exactly a Brady Bunch family – and we decided we needed to liven things up by adding two yellow Labrador retrievers to the mix. And I think those two dogs have a few loose screws floating around inside their heads. They’re both a little nuts sometimes, but they’re part of our family. Sherlock and Watson (Watson is a female) fit right in and have even managed to wiggle their way into some of our cases.
Okay, I swore I’d n
ever call them cases, but there ya go.
I can’t help it. They are cases, and we do solve them.
So earlier this morning, before haunted houses were an issue, the doorbell rang just as I finished washing the last dish from our Saturday breakfast.
Sighing, I dried my hands on a kitchen towel and set it on the end of the sink. Chris and Mikey were in the backyard, alternately raking leaves and playing with the dogs.
We weren’t expecting anyone, and when I opened the door I was surprised to see Chris’s parents standing on the porch.
“Mom! Dad! It’s so good to see you. Come inside.” I gave them each a hug and opened the door wider, inviting them in. Judith insisted I call her and Chris Sr. Mom and Dad, and I appreciated her attempt to make me feel like part of their family. “Let me go get Chris and Mikey.”
I left them sitting on the living room couch and ran outside to find my husband and son. When I told them who was visiting, Mikey ran inside like a bolt of lightning had struck him, and Chris just looked at me.
“My parents are here? Why?”
I rolled my eyes. “How should I know? Come inside and we’ll find out what’s going on.”
As it turned out, Judith and Chris Sr. had just come from visiting Chris’s brother, Bill, and had decided to extend the trip to include us. I was delighted.
That is, until Judith said, “And while we’re here, my grandson and I can look for our own mystery. You two shouldn’t have all the fun.”
Trying to change the subject, I said, “Your dad doesn’t look anything like Bogey, Chris. And neither does your mother. I wonder how you ended up looking like Bogart.”
“I know. I always figured I was adopted. My brother looks just like my dad.”
