Thursday Club Mysteries: All 7 stories

by Sheila Hudson

  William, Amy’s beau, texted her saying that he was called away on an emergency. She tried to pretend that it was okay, but all of us sensed something was wrong between them.

  Tom pulled into the handicapped space and we unloaded Hattie first. Hattie along with Howard led the way to the best seats in the house. Drinks all around and entertainment to follow. The Thursday Club had scored again. Now for the coup de gras, what was in that small black box tied with gold ribbon that Neal placed in Hattie’s lap?

  After a few glasses of bubbly, Hattie placed the gift on the table for all to see. The ribbon fell away easily and Hattie tore away the shiny black paper. Inside were five keys identical except for a tiny colored rhinestone inset at the top. A note inside explained that each colored stone represented our birth month. So we each had a key – not to Neal’s home which was being redecorated – but to a suite at Mandelay Cape in none other than Las Vegas, Nevada! Details to follow.

  The rest of the evening was talk of Las Vegas, the Strip, Suzy and Tony’s wedding, and little else. Amy force smiles but I could tell tears were close to the surface. After a scrumptious seafood dinner and more bubbly, Howard escorted Hattie back to the van. We let them have a few minutes before following. Another beau to inspect and make sure he was for real. At least we knew he wasn’t after Hattie’s money. The Somewhere Bar was a goldmine.

  2

  Back at Golden Palms, the girls and I were still tingling with excitement. No matter that it was after midnight, we needed details lots of details.

  Tom dropped Derek and Tony off in the parking lot. My husband learned long ago to give me time to ‘dish’ with the girls. When we started planning (or plotting), it was time to bow out. I figured we would need an ‘after party’ talk so I drove my Cruiser to Golden Palms in anticipation.

  “Okay here’s the deal. Neal will make arrangements for us to get to the hotel, obtain tickets for whatever shows we want, and give us chaperons, dates, or whatever assistance we may need. He is a big wig in the FBI, my sister’s boy, and completely devoted to me. Any questions?”

  We were aglow at the prospects and Amy ventured a question, “When do we leave?”

  The shock and awe gave way to laughter and the chattering began.

  “Can we see Penn and Teller? What about this Zumanity I’ve heard about?” said Suzy.

  “It’s naughty,” Amy said with a smirk. “But it IS your bachelorette party.”

  “Not as naughty as Thunder Down Under,” Clara added with a grin.

  “Girls. We’ll do it all. As for tonight, I have done all the celebrating I can. Remember I’m vintage. Tomorrow we make a list, book our tickets, arrange for flights, and put down everything our hearts’ desire. Neal will take care of it.”

  The administrator of Golden Palms turned the corner and gave us the stink eye. Without a word I knew it was time to call it a night, but oh what a night it had been!

  Amy and Suzy boarded. In light of the wedding , I began to think about Suzy remarrying and leaving Amy alone. Could she manage in that big place by herself? Of course, they had a housekeeper and someone to clean periodically, but what about the day to day stuff? Would she get lonely? She did manage before Suzy moved in but that seemed so long ago. Only a couple of years and it seemed like I had always been with these women who meant so much to me.

  Note to self. Get a check-up with the doctor about my cystic breast syndrome before the Las Vegas trip. Can’t have that nagging at me the entire time.

  “Ready?” Clara was in the passenger seat of my PT Cruiser and buckled up. I offered to see that Clara was properly ensconced in her new digs at the Athena Hotel. Her place was getting fumigated complete with ‘tenting’ the house and everything. Clara Nesmith was somewhat of an extreme. She supposedly retired from the newspaper that her family owner, but you wouldn’t know it because she’s there every day. Recently, the paper did a report on bed bugs in Georgia and here we are.

  “Yes. And we’re off. I wonder how long we have to plan our wardrobe and pack. You know what snap decisions Hattie can make.”

  “It’s true. Most of my stuff is packed away,” Clara said.

  “Guess I’ll just have to buy new things.”

  She observed with a sigh. Ever since she met Derek on the cruise, Clara has changed her attire and has been acting more like a teenager instead of a senior citizen. ‘Fire in the furnace’ I suppose.

  I saw Clara safely to the hotel. At home Tom had already gone to bed. I sat musing and flipping through websites. I googled ‘Las Vegas’ and got a lot more than I bargained for. I looked up Mandelay Cape; it was amazing. The suites were magnificent with everything from a private sauna to a lap pool to a private butler service. Neal was spending some major cash to please his aunt.

  I remember this place now. It was famous for their shark reef. That should be interesting. Can we do everything in a few days? This calls for pacing, restraint, and a lot of stamina. Well at least we had one of those depending on what day of the week it is.

  3

  I didn’t sleep soundly. I kept dreaming of magic, showgirls, and Hattie winning at everything from poker to baccarat. When I finally decided to get up, Tom was already in his study. I made a list of things I was interested in. I figured we would all make similar lists and whittle everything down. I should have guessed this was much too logical for our band of gypsies.

  Shortly after 10 a.m. I turned my faithful Cruiser toward Golden Palms to meet with the Thursday Club. It wasn’t Thursday but who’s keeping score?

  I found my posse gathered around the poker table, but no one was playing poker. They were consoling someone who had her head down sobbing as if her heart would break -- Amy.

  “What’s this about?” I asked the collective.

  Suzy gave me a ‘don’t ask’ look. But Hattie blurted out, “That fool William has broken up with Amy. He is not retiring after all and is moving to Washington. That’s why he didn’t show up last night. He’s in D.C. checking out a place to live. Bastard!”

  “Language. Hattie,” I cautioned and looked around to see who was taking this in.

  “Sorry but I am upset and if you can’t curse occasionally when you’re 91 years old, when can you?”

  I suppose that she had a point but nothing was going to console this one. Amy raised her head, gave me a weak smile, and headed in the direction of the ladies’ restroom.

  “Does this change our plans for the bachelorette weekend?” Clara asked.

  “I don’t see why,” Suzy remarked. “Getting out of town would probably be the best medicine we could give Amy. William cares for her. I know that he does. I think he scared himself with what he was feeling. It was a whirlwind shipboard romance after all.”

  “True,” I said. “On another subject, I made a list of possible venues and I thought we could run through them and see what everyone thought.”

  “No need,” Hattie said. “Neal sent over our plane tickets. He can get passes to Penn & Teller, Minus 5 Degrees Ice Bar, the Rat Pack, and the Legends. Plus he included brochures for excursions to Lake Meade, Boulder Dam, and the Gangster Tour. We have to decide where to have our Bachelorette Luncheon and if we want Thunder Down Under as entertainment.”

  “Whew, that should keep us busy. Amy won’t have time to think of William at that pace,” I said.

  “One can only hope,” Suzy said staring at the one carat stone on her finger. “I just want her to be as happy as I am just do it in less time and with one ceremony.”

  “Amen.” Everyone agreed.

  Amy returned with dry eyes and fresh make up. She picked up her scarf and tote bag.

  “Put on your hats, girls. We’re going to Pauline’s for brunch. I’m buying.”

  4

  While we waited on our food, Hattie laid out the plan. Neal had arranged a private vehicle to the airport. We would then fly to McCarren airport in Las Vegas where a limo would meet us and take us to our suite at Mandelay Cape.

  Neal had arranged everythin
g. I can’t imagine how many favors he called in but everyone on the force probably had a treasured aunt whom they would do anything for. In the process, I also learned that Neal had a twin sister named Nelle. I wondered if she was in some sort of secret group like the FBI or the CIA or worse. Hattie’s family kept her in spy paraphernalia which pleased her to no end and I had to admit she was a lot of help in our crime fighting, such as it was.

  “Sorry to interrupt, Hattie. But when do we leave?” I asked.

  “Oh didn’t I say? Tomorrow at 6:00 a.m. sharp.”

  Every eye was on Hattie. If we could have, we’d have flashed “please repeat” across our foreheads. I wasn’t about to say anything and apparently I wasn’t alone.

  “Yes. You heard me 6:00 a.m. sharp. I know that’s early girls, but that’s the deal. Maybe we should have an all-night party and let them collect our carcasses when we pass out,” Hattie hooted.

  “But. . . “Amy almost got out a sentence.

  “Them’s the terms. Are you in? A free vacation in the Sin City. Think about it girls,” Hattie gave a wicked smile. “I thought so.”

  5

  I needed an intravenous injection of caffeine to get up at the ungodly hour of 4:30 a.m. After our pep talk yesterday, Suzy repeated her usual one bag per person instruction with no ear plugs rule. After brunch, we parted and individually hurried to our respective homes to pack, replenish, and prepare for our biggest adventure yet.

  Tom had reluctantly agreed to this latest venture. After catching smugglers at sea and poisoners at the monastery, I suppose he figured if Neal from the FBI couldn’t keep us safe then no one could.

  Exactly at 6:00 a.m. our transportation arrived at Golden Palms where we had gathered precisely at 5:45 a.m. The van arrived complete with a manservant named Sam. I hung back and let the others board. Sam placed my luggage in the back and I joined Hattie and the others inside. In spite of the early hour, we were giddy at the prospect of hitting the famous Strip in Las Vegas complete with showgirls, dealers, skyscraper bars, and shows we’d only seen on television.

  Sam had made a run to Starbucks© bless him and we were being caffeinated on our way to Hartsfield-Jackson International. No chance of a nap until we were safely escorted onto the private plane that Neal had previously arranged. Sam informed us that his counterpart would be in Vegas to pick us up and be at our disposal all week.

  “Good morning, ladies,” came the Captain’s voice. I had just helped with Hattie’s seat belt and turned to fasten mine.

  “We will be taking off in a few minutes. Sit back and relax. After we reach the desired altitude Miranda will be entering the cabin to take your drink orders and serve your breakfast.”

  In no time at all Miranda served up omelets, bacon, and steaming coffee in short order. We had a smooth trip with no ear plug incidents. Since we were the only passengers, Miranda visited with us a bit. Turns out she is a professional pilot herself and friend with Neal. I wonder if that means ‘friends with benefits’?

  McCarren was a pit of craziness with slot machines, boutiques selling everything from deodorant to candy. We witnessed 24 hour nail salons, day spas, and places to rent a room by the hour. Neal provided transport so that we could circumvent all of the nut cases around vying for our business. Before noon, we had traveled all the way across the country and were now in a limo headed to Mandelay Cape for the time of our lives.

  6

  I studied the map of the Las Vegas strip that was in one of the in-flight magazines. Mandelay Cape is at the far southern tip of the Strip, so we had a bird’s eye view of everything. I knew I had to visit the MGM grand with its trademark golden lion at the entrance. All of my life I’ve heard of Caesar’s Palace so that was a must see. So much to do and so little time, how would we ever work it all in?

  We gawked like country bumpkins come to town. It was all so much to take in. I couldn’t wait to see it lit up. After all this Eiffel Tower was likely as close as I was going to Paris.

  Hattie observed our eyes glaze over at what we were taking in. She smiled that knowing smile she possessed and pulled her Fedora down over her left eye.

  Sam’s counterpart, Dom, met us at the airport, transported our luggage to the limo, and delivered us safely to the Mandelay. At the hotel, he instructed the porters and took us personally to the suite. When Dom unlocked the carved walnut doors, we let out a collective sigh.

  This was a mansion inside a mansion with plush carpet inches deep, marble countertops, dark walnut paneling, stainless steel appliances, and furnishings out of House Beautiful. The baths were equipped with gold fixtures and with enough floor space to square dance. But all of that was nothing to compare to the bedrooms. Hattie’s space was all lavenders and purples. She had brocade drapes, a plush throw over a snow white coverlet dappled with pansies. The room I shared with Clara was done in shades of blue varying from navy to the faintest robins’ egg shade. Our style was more in the Asian theme with a reading area and our own version of the master bath in complementary colors. The Langford sisters sleeping area was done in pinks, mauves, and a splash of red.

  Our oohing and aahing could be heard down the hall I’m sure. Dom was all smiles and genuinely pleased that we approved. I couldn’t speak for the others but I felt that the accommodations were luxurious with more drawer and closet space that I had in my home.

  “Ladies, I shall see to the limo and when you are ready just dial the number listed on the itinerary and I will call for you,” Dom said as he bowed out of the suite.

  “Itinerary. We have an itinerary?” I asked.

  “Oh yes. And the first item is a two hour rest period followed by drinks and hors d’oeuvres in the Reef Room. Neal and Nelle will be there to welcome us, give us a brief overview of our stay, and take us to dinner. Is that acceptable to everyone?” Hattie said sounding like our den mother.

  “How do we dress?” Clara ventured.

  “It’s Vegas baby. Any way you want,” we chimed back at her.

  “Seriously,” she said.

  “Capris and a suitable top will be fine,” Suzy said.

  “And don’t forget your gambling money,” Hattie said. “We are doing a gambling version of a pub crawl.”

  “How about this?” came the Voice of Reason out of the next room. Clara had donned a chartreuse wig and the tightest dress I’ve ever seen her wear.

  We did a double take and enjoyed a belly laugh at her expense.

  “Just kidding. It was a left over from Halloween eons ago. But I got you good,” Clara said and returned to her room and hopefully her sanity.

  7

  Neal escorted Hattie to the head of the table set for us in the luxurious Reef Room. Hattie was ‘pretty in pink’ with her flowing satin caftan and matching headband complete with a tasteful feather. Clara chose a conservative green frock while Suzy was aglow in a brown silk pants suit complemented by topaz accessories. Amy tried to put on a good front but I had heard her crying in the limo. She wore a tailored navy blue Chanel with a scarf daubed with red. Not to be outdone, I wore a lemony yellow confection accented by my anniversary sapphire earrings. This was a splurge from a shop in Athena using a gift card from my wonderful husband.

  Nelle joined us after we had ordered. She introduced herself around and gave Hattie a big hug. I suspect Nelle is more like her Aunt Hattie than we realize. She excused herself to the ladies’ room and asked Neal to order for her. Hattie’s relationship with the twins was more like a second mother.

  After appetizers and champagne, Neal laid out the agenda for our visit. Neal and Nelle would join us in some of the activities but always be on call if we needed anything.

  Tomorrow’s schedule called for a tour of the Luxor, the Egyptian hotel and casino that was the closest to our location. We would take the pyramid tour, frequent the gift shop, do a little gambling, and meet for lunch at the Rice Company. Neal offered tickets to Criss Angel fresh from Cirque du Soleil© or we could choose Carrot Top or something more risqué. We agreed it wa
s a lot to take in and begged for more time. Just as we finished our salads, we heard a loud commotion outside the restaurant. Nelle went to investigate. When she wasn’t back by the time the entrees came, Neal left the table as well.

  After a few minutes passed, Hattie flagged down the maître de who informed us of an incident at the Shark Reef Exhibit. According to him, it was the appointed time for the diver on duty to hand feed the sharks. This was highlight of the reef’s appeal and led to visitors purchasing the complete ticket package which included a history, tour, and some hands-on experiences.

  We ate slowly anticipating Neal and Nelle’s return. After we finished, Hattie sent their entrees back and asked them to place them in containers. Neal had arranged for the bill, so we collected our belongings and exited the restaurant. Naturally we turned our attention toward where all the excitement was coming from.

  Policemen in uniform, plain clothes detectives, rescue personnel, EMTs, and Mandelay Cape employees surrounded the shark tank. Officials tried to herd the crowd away from the excitement while rescue divers pulled a diver – or part of one - out of the water. Other divers wearing scuba gear plied the waters with shark repellant so that remains and equipment could be recovered. The torso had streaks of blood and when it was loaded onto a gurney, entrails oozed down the wet suit. A collective gasp went up from the onlookers.

  Gawkers whipped out their smart phones and snapped pictures of the torso torn by the shark’s teeth. The scene was surreal as rescue personnel reinserted pieces of the diver’s body into the gaping cavity. What was left of the mask and hose limply lay across what would have been his legs but were now shredded stumps.