Thursday Club Mysteries: All 7 stories

by Sheila Hudson

  “The doctor says she’s going to be okay. Come in. How about some coffee and fresh baked cookies? This is going to take a while.”

  Kenny listened without response while I retold the Mitchell funeral story, the trip to Stephens County coroner adventure, the scenarios of Golden Palms related history, Clara’s collapse, the fire and anything else I thought might convince him of our plight. He listened politely and finally said.

  “Ms. Thibideaux, with all due respect. I don’t think an elderly cat dying and my aunt winding up in the hospital have anything in common.”

  “Kenny. You must believe me. There’s something fishy going on at Golden Palms. Too many residents have been affected. And one of them is sleeping in my guest room.

  If you would only question Elvira Honeycutt, you’d find that she is hiding something of importance. She and Hattie were having tea with your aunt when Clara collapsed. Find that teapot and you will find answers as to why her blood pressure suddenly bottomed out.”

  “But I can’t just go in there and accuse an elderly woman of doing harm to another resident.”

  “But the teapot residue and the chocolate. What about fingerprints? I have some cookie crumbs in a bag in my purse. We could have those analyzed.”

  “Clearly you have been watching too many Agatha Christie movies or perhaps that marathon of Murder She Wrote. Every year after they run that, we get lots of crank calls.”

  “I might agree if it weren’t for the matter of Clara’s stomach contents. I don’t think she regularly drinks Visine. And of course, there’s Mitchell’s death.”

  “Yes, the Langford cat. I almost forgot. How do you think his ‘poisoning’ figures into all this?” Kenny had the expression of ‘just when you think you’ve heard it all’ expression on his face. He took my hand and looked into my teary eyes. “You are really scared from all this aren’t you?”

  “Terrified. Why else would I stash a ninety-year-old in my guest room and call the cops?”

  “Okay. Here’s the plan. When I leave here, I am going to visit Aunt Clara at the hospital. If she is released from the hospital tomorrow, both of us will come over here providing she is up to it. In the meantime, compile the names of everyone you suspect and why. Also I need contact information for the Langfords and Miss Hattie. We must do this ‘by the book.’ Above all, we dare not sound rattled.”

  “That’s what Hattie said. I’m so afraid for my friends.” I felt near to tears again. This day had started off so happy and had turned into a disaster that threatened two of my dearest friends.

  “Whatever you think best, Kenny. But I won’t change my story. Neither will Hattie, Suzy, Amy, nor your aunt. I will have Amy and Suzy here by ten o’clock. Then you can begin the ‘shakedown.’”

  Kenny found my choice of words amusing. “Sure. Mind if I take Aunt Clara her cell phone? You do realize that making a bogus 911 call could land you a hefty fine, don’t you Ms. Thibideaux?”

  I tried to look abashed. Tom came into the room expecting to see me and Hattie. Instead, he took one look at me. Then he looked at Kenny in his police uniform armed with mace, a gun, and handcuffs.

  “I’ll explain it all later, dear.”

  With that I showed Kenny out, double bolted the door to the parsonage, and prayed for a good night’s rest.

  ~11~

  The night was restless. My maternal hearing kicked in; I checked on Hattie a number of times. She was peacefully snoring without a care in the world. I noticed she had hung up yet another jogging suit. I realized in my haste that I didn’t pack Hattie any millinery items. It couldn’t be helped since I couldn’t see clearly in all the smoke and confusion.

  Early next morning Kenny telephoned with news of Clara’s release from the hospital. They planned to join our little coffee klatch. I don’t imagine having your stomach pumped was very pleasant. Her appetite was always small now it would be nil.

  Tom cautioned me about a thousand times of what not to say to Kenny. After all, he was a policeman. But as I reminded him, he was also Clara’s nephew. And as his favorite aunt, he had a stake in finding out why she almost died.

  Hattie and I had dressed, breakfasted, and bid Tom good-bye as he left for the missionary meeting in Gainesville. At ten o’clock sharp the doorbell rang and two excited blonds surrounded Hattie and me. With hugs all around, Hattie ventured, “How was the trip?”

  “Okay, I guess if you like Tofurky© or whatever that mess was our niece served. I thought I would starve. She’s all vegan, tofu, edamame, and sprouts. I begged for a hamburger, but Suzy said we shouldn’t be rude. I threatened to have pizza delivered if she didn’t cave.”

  I laughed until I thought I would pee. “So what did you do?”

  Suzy took over and said, “I made up an errand so we could go McDonalds and stuff ourselves. Of course I had to buy a toothbrush, paste, and mouthwash to make sure we didn’t reek of meat and fries. It beats me how she can survive on that lifestyle.”

  The doorbell rang. Hattie peeked out the window. “Clara’s with him,” she yelled and we lined up to greet her. ‘When it was all over but the shouting’ as Granny Smith would say, the Thursday Club reunited were a laughing weepy bunch. Wise man that Kenny was, he excused himself, poured his coffee, and took a seat in the dining room. When everyone had sufficiently dabbed our eyes dry and blew our collective noses, we joined him.

  Suzy had the forensic report on Mitchell which showed catnip spiked with another plant it had cross-pollinated with. “When Tony called me with the results, he asked where Mitchell would get catnip. That led me to Golden Palms and Dr. Ramsey, the retired botany professor.”

  She said the word botany with particular emphasis. Dr. Ramsey it seems had done a thorough work up of all the plants in the old herb garden.

  “Dr. Ramsey said he found enough poisons in the backyard herb garden to kill us all. I have a list here. Poinsettias, lily of the valley, and oleander, just to name a few. Then he has listed China Berry, plus a number of thistles and nettles,” Suzy was so excited the paper trembled in her hand.

  Amy added, “Don’t forget tomato leaves and nightshade. Although I can’t imagine why those would be in the herb garden.”

  “Those weren’t planted, dear. They came up as volunteers,” Suzy corrected.

  Suzy removed the forensic report and Dr. Ramsey’s list from her Michael Kors© handbag. When they had made their rounds, Kenny said he would take both reports as evidence.

  Clara sipped some coffee and began to cough.

  “Sorry dears. My throat is raw from the garden hose they used to pump my stomach.”

  We laughed at Clara’s humor. She was getting back to normal.

  Kenny put his arm around Clara and hugged her to him. “But,” he asked, “If Mitchell died from ingesting cross-pollinated catnip, how does that affect Aunt Clara and her close call?” He looked at his aunt, “You didn’t eat anything out of the herb garden did you Aunt Clara?”

  “No, dear. At least not to my knowledge. Roxy and I took a look at the space on Saturday after the pancake breakfast. But that’s the only time that I’ve been there. Do you suppose the cook could have used some of the herbs in the tea or soup that GP served?”

  It was an interesting premise that I hadn’t thought of. I didn’t think anyone had been in that patch of weeds for years. After another round of coffee and doughnuts, Hattie felt chilly so I went to the guest room and retrieved her shawl. When I returned, the girls commented that this was the first time they’d seen Hattie without her usual millinery accessory. She flushed and said in all the excitement she didn’t have one for today.

  “Well, we can’t have that, can we?” I said. I retrieved a red cloche from the hall closet and plopped it over her silvery curls.

  “It looks better on you anyway. So now that we are on the same page, let’s revisit the day Clara collapsed. Hattie and Clara were about to play cards. Right?”

  Both nodded in agreement.

  “Elvira joins you and brings a
pot of tea. Hattie is finishing her lemon water. Elvira pours the tea, but doesn’t taste hers. Clara drinks her tea and eats a cookie. In a few minutes, she collapses. Hattie phones me and then 911. Is that a fair summary?”

  Hattie gasped. “Are you saying that Elvira tried to poison us?”

  “No, I’m just trying to see who ingested what?”

  Kenny interrupted. “Is the teapot still at Golden Palms? You bagged the cookie crumbs, but did you get the teapot? It needs to go to the lab. We know that at least two sets of fingerprints are on it, but what if there’s a third set? Was it Elvira’s teapot or one belonging to Golden Palms? Most importantly, who made the tea?”

  I surmised, “A teapot containing Earl Gray dregs with a soupçon of tetrahydrozine shouldn’t be too hard to find. That is, if the poisoner hasn’t already destroyed it.”

  Before any of us could say more, Kenny put on his hat and headed for the door. He turned back and asked, “Could one of you take Aunt Clara home? If you need me I’ll be at Golden Palms.”

  “Of course,” we agreed in unison. But, before taking anyone home, we had a lot of catching up to do. As Suzy and Amy began retelling of their bizarre vegan weekend experience, My mind wandered. I would love to be a fly on the wall when Kenny interviews Elvira. Putting her ‘feet to the fire’ might make up for all her sarcastic barbs. Or would it? I shouldn’t be so hard on her. For all I know, she could have some ill effects herself. But if Elvira made the tea and put something harmful in it, then surely she wouldn’t drink it. And if that were the case, why not just leave the teapot? That means (1) she didn’t know that it contained anything harmful or, (2) she knew who made the tea and was afraid of them.

  “Roxy.”

  I was drawn out of my daydreaming by Amy’s voice.

  “Yes, dear.”

  “Suzy and I talked it over with Clara. She’ll be coming home with us for a few days until she recovers. Hattie, are you going to remain here with Roxy?”

  Hattie looked at me, “Uh, I don’t really know.”

  Neither of us had planned that far ahead. To avoid embarrassment I answered, “Yes. Until we settle the matter of the fire and the Visine in the teapot mystery, Hattie will stay with me.” Hattie seemed pleased at that answer. I breathed a sigh of relief. My friends were safe. That’s all that mattered.

  When the coffee and doughnuts were gone, everyone donned their coats, gloves, and shawls. Hattie used a walker we had stowed in the basement. She slowly made her way down the hall. “Good-by everyone” she hollered. “Naptime.”

  Some things never change. Thank God. I hoped Hattie never would.

  As Suzy brushed past on her way out, I whispered: “You still owe us a story about your date with the coroner.”

  She blushed. “Yes. I know.”

  ~12~

  While Hattie rested, I went to the study for some investigating on my own. I found Mr. Whitfield’s Facebook page. He had apparently moved to another state and now had a hyphenated name with another gentleman. So that explains his sudden departure. The Board of Golden Palms couldn’t risk the scandal of having a gay administrator so they packed him off. I hope he got a nice severance package.

  Dr. Leonard telephoned to check on Hattie. He explained that a candle left unattended in Maude Murphy’s bedroom had caught a curtain on fire. Lighted candles were strictly forbidden in Golden Palms, but no one told her granddaughter about this rule. Fortunately, no one was injured and the destruction was minimal —mostly smoke damage to drapes and walls. A cleaning service was on site. He asked if I might accommodate Hattie for two more days. A ventilation fan needed to run at least 48 additional hours to clear the smoke odor. I said that I would be thrilled to have Hattie as a guest until renovations were complete.

  “Dr. Leonard. By any chance is there an Officer Nesmith at Golden Palms? I’d like to speak to him if I could and I don’t have his number.” I am amazed at how my lying has become so natural. If I were Catholic I’d be doing one million Hail Marys.

  “To be honest if he were here, I wouldn’t know. There’s so much coming and going with the fire inspector, the cleaners, and relatives checking on residents. It’s been a madhouse.”

  “Er…..I’ll check with his aunt. Thanks so much. And don’t worry about Hattie, she’s in good hands.”

  “What’s that about me?” called the voice from down the hall. “Who has me in good hands?” Hattie trudged down the hallway on the walker. She plunked down in the first chair she came to.

  “That was Dr. Leonard of Golden Palms, dear. He was checking on you. He said that you needed to stay here for a couple of days until they could take care of the smoke damage. A ventilator fan is removing the smoke odors.”

  “Who started the dang fire anyway?” she asked.

  “It was a candle in Miss Maudie’s room. Apparently it caught her drapes on fire.”

  “Candles are forbidden in GOLDEN PALMS. She knows that. Must be one of her gol’ dern hippie granddaughters of hers. They are always chanting, bringing her vegan dishes, using incense, and playing weird music.”

  I let Hattie go on and on about hippies ruining the world and the downfall of modern civilization. She covered everything from Cain and Abel to Julius Caesar right up to Hitler as if she’d personally been on the scene. When Hattie took a breath, I ventured, “What about some lunch? You must be starving.”

  We had turkey. Big surprise since I had 20 pounds of it left from the Thanksgiving supper that never happened. With some fixings, we had club sandwiches with extra mayo and Christmas cookies for dessert. Hattie smacked her lips and asked for decaf coffee to go with more cookies while she watched her afternoon stories. It didn’t take her anytime to take command.

  When things settle down, I’ll bake more cookies. Besides, the Ledbetter troupe was always one step ahead of any occasion. Now that Hattie was in good spirits. I wondered if she fancied a ride to the police station. After her stories, of course.

  An hour or so later, I had finished the laundry, sorted the mail, and put a roast in the crock pot. Hattie came toddling into the kitchen. I gave her the choice of staying home or going to the police station.

  “You are going where? Alone? No Missy indeed you are NOT!”

  I felt like I was living with my grandmother. We reached a compromise that she would go with me, but wait in the car. The bribe that won her over was Krispy Kremes© and a newspaper. I parked outside the station and used Hattie’s handicap tag. It was a pleasant day so I rolled down the windows before switching off the engine. I hadn’t ever been inside the Athena police station. The building was intimidating to say the least with bars covering the windows, lighting like Wal-Mart, and bustling with noises, people swearing, and phones ringing off the proverbial hook. I picked my way between two ‘ladies of the night’ and a hobo who smelled like a frat party. The desk sergeant looked up and motioned for me to approach.

  “Officer, I would like to speak to Kenny Nesmith, please.”

  “What is the nature of your business?”

  “I am a mystery writer. Officer Nesmith was kind enough to agree to help me with research,” Scarlett O’Hara’s words from Gone with the Wind haunted me ‘what a cool liar you are Mellie.’ Yes that’s me and I have gotten plenty of practice lately.

  “I’ll see if he is here,” replied the sergeant.

  In a few moments, Kenny appeared and motioned for me to follow him outside the building.

  “What did you find out?” I asked.

  “I sequestered every teapot at Golden Palms. They are being analyzed at the police lab. I spoke with Elvira, who seems close to a nervous breakdown. She swears she knows nothing about the tea being spiked. In fact, the only other person in the kitchen while she was making tea was Blanche Ledbetter. Leona checked out Blanche from Golden Palms as soon as she heard about the fire, so Blanche is at her sister’s recuperating from all the excitement. As soon as I can break free, I’m off to interview her next.”

  Kenny walked me to the car. Hattie lo
oked up from reading the want ads and yelled “Who hoo Kenny.” He walked toward the car.

  “Hello Miss Hattie. Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes, I am Kenny. If I felt any better I’d have to take something for it. I’m having a little holiday with Roxy until I can move back into my digs at GOLDEN PALMS.”

  “That’s great. You take care now.” He patted her hand and walked back to me. “Keep an eye on that one. Before you moved into town, she hired strippers for Clara’s birthday party. After that it took years for Aunt Clara to live that down. Still Miss Hattie is a jewel that I don’t want to see hurt.”

  “On that we agree,” I wanted to hug Officer Nesmith, but for fear of embarrassment. He opened the door, and I slid into the driver’s seat. He gave Hattie a salute. She was wearing the red cloche, but her sapphire eyes were glued to his policeman’s peaked cap. I’ll be she is figuring a way to add that one to her millinery collection. If you look up golden girl in the dictionary, you will find Hattie’s picture.

  ~13~

  Next morning frying bacon smells lured Hattie and Tom into the kitchen. My cell rang and I handed Tom the spatula.

  “Can you baby sit the twins tonight?” Suzy said with a lilt.

  “The what? Oh, you mean Amy and Clara. Not sure if I have enough patience for all of them. Why, what’s up?”

  “Tony’s calling in my debt. He’s coming to Athena and wants to take me to dinner. I tried to persuade him that there aren’t any decent places, but he won’t relent. He made reservations at some Japanese Steak House where you sit on cushions and eat with chopsticks and strangers. I can hardly wait.”

  “I can imagine. But, Tony kept his promise and got the forensic report for free, right?”

  “Well, if you define “free” as having to go to dinner with a middle aged man who acts like he is a teenager. Plus, if he has more than two glasses of wine, he is convinced that he becomes an excellent Karaoke singer. But even worse is that his taste runs to country music.

  We all have our burdens to bear. Guess Tony is mine. Just kidding about the twins, Clara is moving back home and I just wanted to have Amy keep company with you and Hattie and of course, Tom. It’ll only be for a couple hours, three tops.”