Thursday Club Mysteries: All 7 stories

by Sheila Hudson

  “I got his fingerprints and ran them through CODIS. He didn’t fool me.”

  I must have been wearing a question mark on my face because she continued.

  “What? I run all guy’s fingerprints through the system.”

  “Hattie. You are one piece of work,” I replied with relief.

  The Captain was delighted that as a bonus, he discovered a list of buyers and could pass that off to the Feds for arrest and fines.

  When the coast seemed clear with arrests made and guilty parties secured, Hattie and I returned to the cabin while Amy went to find William. The raw coral had been stripped from our purchases for evidence. That meant we had to put everything straight again. Hattie pulled the memory card from the picture frame and replaced it with a fresh one.

  “What? You never can tell,” Hattie replied when I gave her a questioning look.

  And then it hit me, our vacation consisting of ten days of fun in the Caribbean sun was coming to a close. The Thursday Club had had quite an adventure and now it was time to return to Athena and some variation of normality.

  Worse than that it was time to pack all the stuff we somehow accumulated during this time. If we were packed like oysters at the beginning, I wondered what the trip back would look like. Maybe I should consider renting a U-Haul©.

  Suzy came in and went to her bedroom. Seconds later a squeal brought us to her side. There on her bedside table sat a vase with a dozen red long stemmed roses. It didn’t take a Ph.D. to know who they were from. It seems that absence made the heart grow fonder. Obviously, Anthony aka Tony had been a knucklehead when he and Suzy were married but now it seems he wants another chance.

  “Go ahead and call him,” I said. “Tony deserves to hear your voice. It would be rude not to thank him for the lovely roses. By the way, where’s your sister?”

  “She and William are in the coffee shop. I think she may be there for a while,” Suzy said. Then she grabbed her cell phone and closed the door.

  Hattie and I returned to packing. I decided I would telephone Tom later. All this boyfriend stuff made me miss him even more. I had Tom. Suzy had Tony. Amy had William. I wish there would be someone for Clara.

  A knock at the door jarred me out of my matchmaking schemes. It was Captain Benedict with no other than Kitty in tow.

  “Can we come in? Captain Benedict spoke first. He gave his companion and encouraging nudge. Hattie and I were waiting for the other shoe to drop. Captain Benedict looked at her and said, “Go ahead.”

  “You met me as Kitty Maynard, the Captain’s secretary. But in truth I am Detective Laura Anderson of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Commission working in conjunction with local officials on catching the smugglers. I have been keeping tabs on your activities as soon as I saw that William was attracted to your group. He wasn’t aware, but I was ordered to be his back up and send any information I gained back to our headquarters.”

  Did you know that William was still alive too?” I asked.

  “Yes. I did. But I was sworn to secrecy. Not even the Captain knew my real identity.”

  “Is that true?” Hattie gave the Captain her worst stare.

  “It is,” he answered.

  “Well I suppose that accounts for everything, doesn’t it? Case closed.”

  “Not quite. There is the matter of collection of ALL the evidence including photos, recordings, and anything incriminating.” The Captain returned Hattie’s stare.

  “What!? I turned over everything. Well almost everything.” Hattie whirled her scooter around and headed to her room. She drug the spy case out from under her bed and with a little help opened it onto the bed.

  “Dammit. I didn’t even get to wear my wig,” Hattie exclaimed as she carefully laid out her wares. Even the Captain was surprised at her supply. I am surprised the government didn’t have her on the “no-fly” watch list with all the stuff she carried. We knew about the nanny cam and the spy jewelry but she had robotic gizmos, hearing aids that recorded conversations hundreds of feet away, plastic weaponry of all kinds, and devices that would fit into crevices I didn’t want to think about.

  “Hattie. What in God’s name were you planning?” I yelled.

  “Can’t be too careful sweetie,” she grinned. “For instance, Carlo something or other hit on me just last night at the casino. I was able to get his print and run it through the system just to see if he is on the level. Turns out he is a rich, old tycoon looking for a good time. I just might be the one to give it to him.”

  I was mortified. The Captain grinned. Kitty aka Detective Anderson laughed out loud and extended her hand.

  “Hattie, if you ever want a job with the feds. Let me know. You’d make a great agent.”

  Hattie handed over her memory cards but the rest she was allowed to keep. I was still amazed at how she got all that stuff through security. Hattie was ‘in the vernacular’ one bad-ass. I wouldn’t want to get on her wrong side.

  ~18~

  Suzy finished her conversation with Tony and joined us in the common room. She was still flushed and I could see that in spite of it all, they were still in love. Hattie and I continued emptying drawers and cubbies in an effort to pack the stuff we had brought along with the stuff we had accumulated. It was a task monumental.

  It dawned on me. Where was Clara? We hadn’t seen her since the bust went down. Amy met up with William, but where was our other roomie? I dialed her cell.

  “Clara. Are you okay? We haven’t heard from you since the arrests.”

  “Oh hello, Roxy. I’m fine just having a chat with a professor I met in the coffee shop. He was at the Pet Memorial and recognized me. We have a mutual love for animals and have been discussing ways to prevent mistreatment.”

  “Clara Nesmith! You fake. You don’t even OWN a pet. You were only at the Pet Memorial because you HAD to come.”

  “Yes dear,” came Clara’s reply. “You are correct dear. We must discuss this later. Excuse me, I have to go now.”

  That sly fox! Clara had a boyfriend too. My job as matchmaker is complete. Everyone had a companion at least for now. Plus, Hattie had the means to check their credentials. Somehow I would procure the professor’s fingerprints and have him checked out. As Hattie says ‘you can’t be too careful.’

  I telephoned Tom. His voice mail picked up. His schedule put him on his way back to Athena. The cruise was great in spite of the adventure, but it was time to get back to normal. Who was I kidding? With this crowd normal isn’t something we are familiar with.

  ~19~

  At last everyone was back in the room. Many conversations going at once can cause quite a ruckus. I clapped my hands to get their attention.

  “Girls. It’s the last night of the cruise so you know what that means?”

  “Yeah. We’ve got eight hours to pack and skedaddle,” Hattie chortled.

  “That too. But more importantly, it is clean out the refrigerator night and we’ve got a feast. How about we take everything out on the balcony where we can enjoy the moonlight and the sound of the ocean one last time. Who’s in?”

  With a resounding “yes” I unloaded a bottle of champagne and a bottle of Merlot, a cheese ball, plus chocolate dipped strawberries from the refrigerator. Amy grabbed the crackers and the corkscrew. Clara gathered the glasses and napkins while Suzy assisted Hattie to the balcony.

  “Well Hattie, what about Carlos? Did you get his contact info for later?” Amy asked as she smeared her wheat thin with cheese.

  “Sure did. He has a lot of dough and is a lonely widower, so there may be a future there. Of course, he’ll have to move to Athena if he wants to date me. But I’m worth it.”

  “You sure are,” Suzy smiled. “I am happy to report that Tony and I are enrolled in a couples’ counseling class. He has turned over a new leaf and I think we’ll make it this time.”

  “I’m so happy to hear that Suzy,” I said and turned toward Amy.

  “Your time, madam.”

  Amy blushed. “It’s no secret th
at William means a lot to me. We’ve made plans to keep dating and see where it leads. He is retiring soon and can live anywhere he chooses.”

  “All I can say is that he’d better choose Athena,” Suzy said. “I’m not giving up my sister to a gigolo.”

  That led to more rounds of laughter and a toast to William and Amy and their newfound relationship. Amy wanted to get the attention away from her love life. She addressed Clara, “Tell us more about your professor. He’s the mystery man at the moment.”

  “His name Derek Dumont and as you know he is a professor. He teaches economics at Georgia College and is single. Derek took the cruise in hopes of meeting some intelligent women his age. Right now, companionship is all he is seeking. You know. Someone to discuss books and plays, accompany him to faculty functions, and just be a good friend.”

  Clara took a breath and continued, “His German shepherd, Max, died a few months back and he was quite taken with our Pet Memorial for Mitchell. Don’t worry he doesn’t know about the poisoning and our part in tracking down the mystery. I didn’t want him to know how crazy we can get. Anyway, we have a lot in common. I hope that we will continue our friendship after we return home.”

  Hattie chimed in, “Good for you, Clara. Take it slow. Pass me another chocolate strawberry and crack open the champagne. They were meant to go together.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t have any of that booze when you were toting your Taser,” I kidded.

  “Me too. If I’d been liquored up, I might have made Harry a eunuch.”

  Hattie’s comments along with the alcohol we’d consumed made us all giggly.

  “Anyone for cheesecake?” I had kept the best for last.

  “Sure. Diets be damned. Full speed ahead,” Amy said. We collectively stared at her. She had used more swear words this trip than we had ever come out of her mouth.

  She blushed, “Sorry. It just came out.”

  That sent us into another fit of laughter. Over cheesecake and champagne, Suzy retold the ear plug story. Clara, not to be outdone, embellished the scenario when Hattie had given the gypsy stink eye to the server when he told her that his restaurant didn’t serve grits. We sounded like a reunion of sorority sisters and we were, of a sort.

  “Okay girls. What’s our next adventure?” Suzy had our attention.

  “Amy and I had the idea of a spring retreat at the Monastery of Good Faith. It isn’t very far away and relatively inexpensive.”

  I turned to Amy, “I bet you heard about this on Oprah, didn’t you?”

  Her mouth was full of cheesecake, so she only nodded.

  “What’s the vote? I can see what classes they offer and check the visitor schedule. It might mean a vow of silence but even that might be pleasant.”

  “Oh girls, please,” begged Amy. She blotted her lips with a napkin.

  “Oh hell, why not?” Hattie added her two cents.

  “I’m in,” Clara chirped.

  “So am I,” I said.

  “Okay, but some of you need to work on your language a bit. Monks aren’t crazy about swear words. I will try for retreat dates in late April or early May.”

  “Roxy, will you check the church calendar so that we don’t conflict with anything major?”

  I nodded.

  The laughing died down and Suzy reminded us that packing was still awaiting us —a fact we were trying hard to forget. She also reminded us that we had another cruise, a free one gratis of Royal Norwegian, to take in the next five years.

  “Humph. If you want me to come along it will have to be in the imminent future,” Hattie remarked.

  I slept well that night thinking about our time together. Another adventure with the Thursday Club is complete. Another case is closed. And yet another challenge is before us.

  I wonder if St. Christopher medals work. I mean if you’re not Catholic. A question for one of the Trappist monks at the monastery.

  MURDER AT THE MONASTERY

  A Thursday Club Mystery, book 3

  By Sheila Hudson

  Copyright 2016 Take Me Away Books, a division of Winged Publications

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the authors.

  Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version (NIV), Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the authors’ imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

  ~1~

  What I needed was a large Dunkin Donuts© salted caramel hot chocolate. What I had was a room full of toddlers sporting milk mustaches. They were also busy crunching Goldfish© into the church nursery carpet. The designated nursery worker was down with the flu and I, as the minister’s wife, was the volunteer of choice.

  I didn’t really mind keeping the nursery for the Mothers Morning Out program. But, it pushed back my visit with Hattie Sewell, a longtime resident of Golden Palms Residency Center. It also meant that I had no time to recuperate from nursery duty before my visit. Just for the record, anyone taking care of this many preschoolers should get combat pay.

  As soon as the mothers collected their tots, I joined the others for a quick cleanup. If I hurried I could make it to GP on time and avoid Elvira tapping her watch to remind me I was late. She had improved on her quirks since becoming Hattie’s roommate but still had a hang up on punctuality. I scraped Gummy Bears© off my shoes and stripped off my jeans bearing peanut butter fingerprints. Quickly I pulled on leggings with a coordinating sweater and bolted to the car for an adventure of another kind.

  When I arrived at the residency center, Hattie and Elvira Honeycutt were vigorously sorting through their respective closets. Immediately I knew this was a bad idea mainly because neither of them could resist trying on every scarf, boa, and hat in their combined possession. I estimated that it might be a year from now before the items were returned to their proper shelves. I decided to intervene.

  “Hattie, what in the world ARE you doing? You are supposed to be packing for the retreat.”

  “I AM packing. It’s a big decision as to what to pack for a monastery visit. Should I wear a chapeau, cloche, or go daring with a fedora? It’s a lot of pressure,” Hattie said. “Then of course, there’s the pants versus dress issue not to mention jogging suits versus pants suits.”

  She removed her raspberry velvet tricorn and popped on a broad brimmed yellow straw.

  “What do you think of this?” Hattie twirled in her scooter to give us a view and sent the bonnet flying onto a clothing heap on the floor.

  Elvira attempted to stifle a giggle but to no avail. I smiled, picked up the bonnet, and attempted to reason with the ninety-year-old, which was much like the church nursery negotiations I had just left.

  “Look Hattie. We will be on retreat at the monastery! Get it. The Trappist monks of the Monastery of Good Faith take a vow of poverty. They dress in homespun clothes. Their meals are simple. You aren’t going to see the Pope for goodness sake. The only people you will see is the Abbot and the monks who teach the classes.”

  Elvira chimed in, “My cousin went to a monastery once. She had pictures of shaved heads and yellow robes. She said they chanted day and night in some language she didn’t understand. Of course, that was in Thailand.”

  “I don’t think that was a Christian monastery, dear. Buddhists, Hindus, and various other faiths have monasteries.”

  “Oh I didn’t know that. Never mind,” Elvira said. Seemingly satisfied with my answer, she began to tidy up the hurricane center that was their room.

  I asked Hattie.

  “Have you even started to pack? “

  “Sort of. I put in a caftan, a pants suit, my pills, and toiletry items. Then Elvira and I began to sort out scarves and hats to accessorize.”r />
  “Good. That’s a start. Did you read the brochure on monastery etiquette and the list of classes available?”

  Hattie’s sheepish look told me that she had not. Oh well. It didn’t matter. The monastery coordinator would cover it all once we began the retreat.

  “Do you need anything? I have some errands to run before we leave.”

  “No dear. And I promise that I will get this cleaned up and my bag packed in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

  Elvira busied herself folding and putting clothes back on hangars. She glanced at me as if she wanted to venture a question.

  “Elvira, are you interested in joining us for the retreat?”

  “Thank you Roxy, but my niece is getting married this weekend. I appreciate your asking me. But for the future, I am interested in the classes that they offer at the monastery. Do you have a list?”

  “Just a sec. Let me see. They offer bonsai, stained glassmaking, prayer, yoga, and meditation on a monthly rotation with special classes every quarter. When we get arrive, we will be assigned living accommodations. We will have dinner followed by vespers. Afterward those of us on retreat will have orientation. Most of the classes are taught by the resident monks, but a few are taught by outside sources. There are so many it’s hard to decide they all sound so good.”

  “Well I have decided,” came from a voice in the doorway.

  We turned to see Clara looking very attractive in her lavender jogging suit and matching tennis shoes.

  “Hello, all. I can’t wait to get into the meditation class. Derek said he took it last year and it changed his life.”

  Elvira looked puzzled at Clara’s mention of Derek, so I explained.

  “Derek Dumont is Clara’s new beau. She met him on our cruise this winter. Derek is a professor at Georgia College. He teaches economics, but evidently has a wide variety of interests including church history. He and Clara have been seeing each other ever since the cruise.”