by Jane Tesh
“I’d say so.”
“Did you all live together in some secret underground lair, you and Rick and Honor and the others?”
“More like my town house. And people didn’t live there, although occasionally it was a convenient hideout. It was more like a meeting place. I taught everyone a few tricks, we’d eat and visit.” He leaned forward, smiling. “I’m no criminal mastermind, Madeline. I just happen to have certain useful skills.”
I liked his smile, but then I was supposed to, wasn’t I? All part of his tricks. “Here’s my problem, Big Mike. I feel certain Jerry can give up his con man ways, but I don’t know what else he can do. He’s an excellent musician, but that doesn’t pay. He loves kids and is going to be a camp counselor, but that’s only for the summer.”
“Let me think on it.”
Jerry called that lunch was ready. We went in to the dining room. Jerry had an array of dishes on the table, including a ham and potato casserole, salad, and a vegetable dish with corn, lima beans, and red peppers. Big Mike sat carefully, but the chair held his weight. He opened his napkin and spread it on his huge lap.
“This looks splendid, Jerry. I have to say I miss your cooking.”
“Thanks. There’s peach pie for dessert.”
“One would think you knew I was coming.”
“I thought you might, so I stocked up.”
“Good planning.” Then Big Mike looked at me and winked. I wasn’t sure what he meant, but he gave me a satisfied smile. “Please pass the salad.”
During lunch, Big Mike and Jerry entertained each other with stories of past escapades, many beginning with, “Do you remember when…?” and “Oh, that reminds me of the time when…” Jerry told Big Mike about Rick’s attempt to cash in on the Mantis Man craze here in town, and Big Mike told Jerry about an incredibly detailed con that took a month to set up.
“It was worth it, though. We were able to stop the destruction of a fine old house and put a certain scumbag of a lawyer out of business.”
“That sounds more like police undercover work,” I said.
Big Mike wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I occasionally feel the need to do a good deed. Now, where’s that pie?”
Jerry brought out the peach pie and we all had a large slice.
“Make the crust yourself?” Big Mike asked.
“As usual.”
“Very tasty.”
When Big Mike finished his pie, he put his fork down across the plate with a decisive click. “About Honor…”
“She may have left town,” Jerry said. “I hear she had a traumatic experience at her séance last night.”
“Let’s assume she’s still around. I can get another pink star sapphire and have it sent to you. See what she does with it. I’d be curious to know.”
“Me, too.”
“If that doesn’t solve the problem, call me.”
“Do you have any idea who she might have worked with on the D and S at Mac’s friend’s house?”
“I’ll find that out and bring it to Honor’s attention. Sounds like the Over the Border Boys. Fairly harmless, but they’ve been known to turn on each other.”
“Over the Border?” I asked. “Mexican or Canadian?”
“Virginian. They’ll do a few jobs in North Carolina and then scoot back home where they think they’re safe.” His smile suggested the Border Boys were anything but safe. “They won’t give me any problem, I assure you. Now I’d like some more tea, if you have it.”
“Would you like coffee? Wouldn’t take a minute.”
“Even better, thank you.”
As soon as Jerry left, Big Mike lowered his voice. “Madeline, I believe I have a solution to your dilemma, and I don’t mean Honor Perkins. This excellent lunch brought home to me the fact that Jerry is a fine cook. Has he ever considered opening a restaurant?”
Yes, Jerry did all the cooking. Delicious breakfasts, lunches, treats for the kids, cookies, brownies. Wasn’t he always happy to be in the kitchen fixing something?
“Big Mike, you may have something here.”
“I would be happy to look into possible locations, or would you like to use the house?”
When he’d first moved to Celosia, Jerry’s then-girlfriend insisted he turn the house into a bed and breakfast, but all the legal issues and restrictions had made Jerry’s head spin and he abandoned that project.
“I think a separate place would be better.”
“Sound him out on the idea and see what he says.”
Jerry returned with the coffee. “Something else you can help us with, Big Mike. Ever hear of a con artist named Lizzie Bailey?”
Big Mike put three spoonfuls of sugar in his coffee. “What’s her game?”
“Marries rich men, squeezes them dry, and moves on.”
“Black widow?”
“No, at least not until Wendall Clarke’s murder. He’s the wealthy art gallery owner Mac mentioned. Lizzie’s also a suspect.”
“Little redhead? Very attractive? Likes to pretend she’s shy?”
“She’s a blonde right now and calls herself Flora, but that sounds like her.”
I took a sip of coffee. “So the shyness is all an act? I’ve had my suspicions.” Especially since I’d seen the colder, calculating side of Flora.
“I would imagine so. No one likes to think a sweet little unassuming lady is a murderer.”
“I don’t think she’s the murderer, but if she’s got this shady past, maybe she knows more than she’s telling. Although she really seems heartbroken.”
Big Mike gave a massive shrug. “Maybe she honestly loved him. Sometimes even the most hardened grifter can fall for a mark. Did Clarke know about her past? If he found out and still loved her, that might have turned her around. Worked for Jerry. Not that I would ever call you a mark, my dear Madeline. You are much too clever.”
Like Jerry, Big Mike could lay on the charm. “Thank you.” I recalled what Flora had told me about Wendall assuring her she didn’t have to use disguises and tricks. He would take care of her because he could afford to. “Wendall knew. That’s why I have a hard time imagining her as the killer.”
“Remember, the best con artists are heartless.”
Flora was heartless—until Wendall. “You don’t strike me as heartless, Big Mike.”
He laughed his deep laugh. “Keep believing that, my dear.”
Jerry and Big Mike reminisced a while longer until Big Mike checked his large gold watch. “It’s not a good idea for me to stay too long in one place these days, and we don’t want Honor popping up unexpectedly. Thank you very much for lunch, Jerry. Madeline, a pleasure to meet you. We’ll be in touch.”
As the black Hummer drove away, I said. “Big Mike isn’t what I expected at all.”
“He was on his best behavior.”
“Are you saying he isn’t always a perfect gentleman?”
“I’m saying you never want to cross him.”
We went to the kitchen where I helped Jerry clean up. “He said something interesting while you were making coffee. What would you think about opening your own restaurant?”
He spooned the leftover vegetables into a plastic container. “That’s a lot of work.”
“But does it sound like something you’d like to do?”
“Well, I like to cook.”
“And you’re a very good cook.”
He put the container into the fridge. “I don’t know, Mac. Guess I never thought of it. Open a restaurant in town, you mean? Most people are happy to go to Deely’s.”
“When they want burgers and fries. What if you offered a different menu? You’re always making me the most wonderful breakfasts. What if you had a breakfast café?”
He scraped the last of the casserole into another container. “Open just for breakfast? That’s n
ot a bad idea. But where would we get the money to start a business like that?”
“I have a feeling Big Mike might bankroll you if you were serious about the project.”
He licked the spoon clean. “Oh, I see. You two have a plan.”
“Think about it. You are an expert at making pancakes and omelets for everyone from seven to eleven. You have the rest of the day free, your evenings are free for shows and choir cantatas, and you make a little extra cash. Unless you’ve heard anything from your interview.”
He opened the fridge and put the second container on top of the first one. “Oh, about that. There’s a snag.”
“What sort of snag?”
“The fellow who interviewed me at Southern Foods was Dean Snyder.” He paused to let this sink in.
Uh, oh. “Snyder. As in Flossie Mae?”
“And Geoff and Sean. Dean’s their cousin.”
Flossie Mae Snyder was one of Jerry’s former séance customers and a big believer in the spirit world. Her nephews, Geoff and Sean, made a living debunking anything paranormal and thought Jerry took advantage of their aunt. “Does Cousin Dean side with the spirits or the Snyder boys?”
“Let’s just say I didn’t get the job.” He put dishes into some hot soapy water. “Tecknilabs said they’d get back to me. I hope another Snyder cousin isn’t lurking in the bushes.”
“The downside of the small town.”
“So this plan of yours is something to consider. I don’t have any experience running a restaurant, though.”
“Think of it as conning people out of their money for bacon and eggs.”
He laughed. “I’ll call it the Breakfast Con Café.”
“Since you’re giving up cons, how about calling it The Good Egg?”
“How about Flapjack City? No, wait. Pancake Palace.” He put his arms around me. He gave me a kiss. “What other plans do you have for me?”
“Well, as much as I’d like to stay here and fool around, we have a letter to find.”
I’d been concerned about having Big Mike visit. Seeing his old friend and mentor might have made Jerry homesick for his carefree con man days. But he was excited about this new possibility, and if his reputation kept him from getting other jobs, a restaurant of his own might be the solution.
Now I needed to solve this case and get rid of Honor Perkins, not necessarily in that order.
Chapter Nineteen
On the way to Flair For Fashion, I told Jerry about Flora’s visit, my discovery at Fred’s Garage, and what I’d learned from Ginger Alverez.
“So the Mystery of the Dark Blue Honda has been solved,” he said, “and Bea has moved up to Suspect Number One.”
“If I can find a motive.”
“Well, like Larissa, Bea seems to have a grudge against the world.”
“There has to be something a little more concrete than that.”
Pamela greeted us in a reserved manner. I could tell she was still irked at me for considering her a murderer. Jerry and I went into the little office. He started looking through the next filing cabinet while I tackled another stack.
He tugged open the next drawer. “What are you going to do about Bea?”
“I’m going to talk to her again and see what she comes up with.”
“If she starts throwing bricks at you, you’ll know for sure.”
I set a pile of paper aside and started leafing through another. “She had to be hiding somewhere in the gallery.”
“Maybe she came in after Pamela left. Anyone could get in the back, right?”
“Right.”
“There wasn’t anything worth stealing, was there? Just Bea’s broken pictures and Ginger’s ping-pong birds.”
We didn’t have any luck finding the letter. I needed to stop by my office, and to my surprise, there was a box at my door with a pink sapphire inside.
“Good grief, Big Mike works fast.”
“Helps to know the right people.”
I turned the sapphire so the light caught in the frosty star. “It looks exactly like Pamela’s. How do I get in touch with Honor?”
“Let’s go out to her lair,” Jerry said.
***
Tinsley Acres was a failed housing development outside of town. Several giant houses had been built before the developers and the contractors disagreed on terms and money. The houses now sat empty and forlorn on their once green lawns, driveways cracked and windows blank. Honor’s car was parked behind the second house, a massive pink brick mansion.
I thought Honor was taking a big chance staying in the area. “I don’t get it. With the police on to her, why didn’t she leave town?”
“She wanted this sapphire, so now that problem’s solved.”
I started toward Honor’s car, but Jerry went to the front door of the house and knocked.
“I’d be very surprised if she didn’t find a way in.”
Honor opened the door. She grinned. “Welcome to my home. So nice of you to drop by.”
Jerry handed her the sapphire. “We can’t stay. Here’s what you came for, it’s been fun, so long.”
He’d taken her by surprise. She held the sapphire up to the light to inspect it. “Wow, that was fast.”
“You really ought to think about packing up. I can’t promise there won’t be a police car checking out the neighborhood later today.”
“Jerry—” She gave me a glare. “Would you mind if we had a private conversation?”
“No problem.”
I went back to the Mazda and leaned against it while they talked. I couldn’t help but notice the builders had left a small pile of bricks by the driveway. Nice new pink bricks with sharp corners.
Jerry stood with his arms folded. Honor fiddled with the sapphire. This time there wasn’t a handy air vent, but I could see her expression, and my old suspicions crept back in.
Honor was definitely in love with Jerry.
It all made sense. They’d been partners in crime, ran some schemes, had narrow escapes together, and palled around at Big Mike’s. She didn’t believe he’d gone straight, so what better way to get his attention than to run some cons to get him involved? Maybe not the break-in at Billie’s. I didn’t think Honor knew the connection to me there, but she was a crafty woman. She knew about me, and it wouldn’t have been difficult to look up my pageant career and see some of the other girls I’d competed against. Certainly by sending him a fake letter about being sued she sucked him in. And horning in on his séances was a joke that backfired when Aunt Gloria showed up. I still didn’t know how Jerry managed that.
But a brick through my window? Not a very subtle way of showing her displeasure at me personally, the woman who ruined a perfectly good con man’s career—and disrupted what Honor saw as a chance to rekindle her delusional romance.
All this about owing Big Mike was another way to catch Jerry’s interest and keep Honor in Celosia. She probably didn’t believe he’d be able to come up with a pink star sapphire. Thank goodness he did. I wanted her as far away as possible.
Jerry turned to leave, and she caught his arm. There was no mistaking the look in her eyes. I didn’t have to hear her to know what she was saying. I don’t believe it’s over. You can’t be serious about leaving the game, about leaving me.
Did Jerry realize this? He must have realized something. Instead of jerking away, he patted her hand and pulled free. For a moment, Honor looked desolate. Then she went back inside, slamming the door behind her.
Jerry came back to the car. “She’s a little upset.”
“Well, you two have a history.”
“Fun for a while.”
“It’s more than that.” He looked puzzled, so I explained. “She’s in love with you, Jerry. I think she always has been.”
He gave a short laugh. “No way. We’re friends, that’s
all. We hung out at Big Mike’s and did stuff together, but we never did anything you’d call romantic.”
“Oh, I think hanging out and doing stuff together was very romantic to Honor.”
He still didn’t believe me. “Well, why didn’t she tell me?”
“Jerry, during our college days and after, you went through a whole string of little blondes. Honor knew she couldn’t compete. She was happy to be with you when the two of you were running a con. She probably told herself, well, those blondes may be pretty, but they can’t cheat people the way I can. Trust me. I know all about appearances.”
Jerry glanced back at the house. “I guess I wasn’t very sympathetic.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s your fault, but now we know why Honor is staying here.”
“If she felt this way about me, why did she decide to do all this now? She knows I’m married.”
“When was the last time you saw her? Maybe she’s been out of the country, or in jail. Maybe the fact that you’re married represents more of a challenge.”
“She has to know she can’t break up my marriage.”
“Jerry, she’s a con artist. Anything’s possible, right? Oh, and that brick I was telling you about? It used to be on that pile right there.”
He stared at the bricks. “You’re kidding.”
“Your old pal is more dangerous than you think.” He started toward the house, and this time I was the one to catch his sleeve. “She may not have you, but she has the jewel she wanted. If she isn’t gone by tomorrow, I’ll call the police.”
He stood in the driveway. For a moment, I thought he might ignore me and confront her. Then he turned back to me.
“Let’s go.”
***
On our way out of Tinsley Acres, Jerry had a phone call from another cast member of Oklahoma asking if he’d come by the theater. I dropped him off and decided to stop at Burger World to talk with Deely. He was wiping the counters and straightening the menus in their metal holders.
I sat down at the counter. “Heard you’re thinking of retiring.”
“Shoot, no. Could use some more business, though. Times are tough.”
“What would you say to opening the place for breakfast?”
