by Molly Dox
“Poppy, you are not going to impersonate an officer of the law. That stuff can get you arrested.” He scolded his friend.
“I know; I’m just desperate to know more.” She plopped down on his small sofa. “I need to talk to the bouncer too. Did he see Cherry Jones? Was she in trouble too? Was she hanging around him? Did she see what happened? So many questions…” She trailed off.
“I’ll tell you what I will do. I’ll run a background check on the ex-wife and see if there’s anything that could help us out.” He shook his head, knowing he probably shouldn’t even do that. “Let me call into dispatch and ask them to look up her name. Do we have a date of birth, or maybe even an estimated one? And is Cherry a nickname or her real name?”
“I’m guessing her real name. It’s on the credit card she left on file for charges. And age, wow, that’s a hard one. The Godshaws are retired, so they’re maybe in their sixties or so? I’m guessing she’s in her fifties to early sixties?”
“Well, we can hope Cherry Jones isn’t a popular name. Does she have a middle initial on the credit card?” Reggie asked.
“Not that I remember.” She shook her head.
“Okay, let me call and see if she comes up in the system.” He made a phone call to ask for a favor, and then waited. There were exactly four names similar to Cherry Jones on the file, but some were other variations. There was a Sherry Jones, Sherri Jones, Cherry M. Jones, and Cherry Jones in the system. Based on the rough estimate of birthdates and that she was a Caucasian woman, they were able to narrow the files to the right suspect. Reggie talked to the person on the other end of the line. “Is that all? Anything else I should know? Okay, great, thanks.” Reggie hung up the phone and turned to Poppy.
“Well?” She was practically salivating, waiting for the information.
“She’s been busted for passing bad checks on more than one occasion. It seems like she’s got a record. It’s not a long one, but there’s a history. That may give us the lead you need when you talk to the casino. Tell them she passed a bad check at your resort, and you wanted to know if the same name tried to cash checks there. You wanted to warn them, since you knew she went there. Just go in like a friendly neighboring business woman, and maybe somebody will talk. It may take a few tries, and I’m not saying you should do this. You know how I feel, but since I know you’re going to go back to the casino anyway, you have a little ammunition now.” He warned her that he wasn’t doing anymore digging into this case, and he was finished with it.
“Thank you,” Poppy said, feeling giddy to have another lead. She couldn’t wait to head to the casino. She remembered something and stopped. “Oh, I forgot, I picked you up some jelly beans this morning when I ran to the market. They’re on the table in the office.”
“Thanks!” He had a thing for jelly beans. It was the habit he picked up when he stopped smoking. He’d promised his wife for years he’d quit and never did. When she died, he felt guilty and went cold turkey. Now he popped jelly beans in his mouth like they were going out of style, but he hadn’t touched a smoke since her passing.
“I’m going to check on my dad and see if he can fill in for me. Then I’ll scope out the casino the first chance I get.” She waved and thanked Reggie for his time. They’d grown to be close friends since he’d moved in there, which was supposed to be a temporary arrangement, but month after month he stayed.
Poppy went to check on her father. He was still in bed, clutching his belly. “Oh, those darn crabs are killing me,” he whined on seeing his daughter.
“The crabs?”
“I think it was the crabs. The pains I’m having, no human should have to go through.” He got up and ran to the bathroom.
“Are you sure it wasn’t the whisky and all the extra cake? Your sugars were probably high,” she called in behind him.
“It was the crabs, I tell you. Let me be…”
Poppy shook her head. Well, if her dad was going to be curled up in bed all day with a stomach issue, it meant going to the casino would have to wait.
**
Vera was out sitting on the other lawn chair, not the one that Bernie was found dead on. She was staring at it when Poppy walked by.
“I’m so sorry; I should have removed that chair. I didn’t even think,” she started.
“It’s fine. It’s just a chair.” She looked frustrated and was fidgety, her fingers tapping on her legs.
“Do you want someone to talk to?” Poppy waited for her answer before joining the woman.
Vera gave a slightly-crooked smile. “That would be lovely.”
Poppy sat down. “How are you doing?”
“As well as could be expected, I guess. I mean, it’s still hitting me that I’ll be alone for the rest of my life. I can’t even imagine…anyway, here’s hoping he didn’t leave me broke. The way that man was gambling, I was afraid we’d end up in the poorhouse. And finding out he was going to the casino with his ex-wife was like a slap in the face. I don’t even care about the watch at this point. I filed an insurance claim. It just makes my blood boil that she’s even here.” The woman sighed.
“I can imagine. You’ve been through quite a bit these last few days.” Poppy consoled the woman. “How did you meet Bernie?”
Vera smiled softly. “That silly old man wouldn’t let up. He kept showing up at my workplace and asking me out. He was one of our distributors. We’ve been together so long now; it feels like we’re one person.”
“Do you know why he split up with Cherry?” She was pushing it by asking, but it couldn’t hurt to try.
“All I know is money problems. They were always fighting over money, but he never said much more about her either way. You know what? I think I’m going to go lie down for a little bit. Thanks so much for the chat.” Mrs. Godshaw stood up and said good-bye.
Poppy noticed how quickly the woman changed when she asked about his ex-wife. She couldn’t blame her. It was insensitive to even ask. She should have known better. She couldn’t get out of prying mode, but that was just wrong. Poppy headed back to the office, letting the shame watch over her. When it was all said and done, that poor woman had just lost her husband.
Chapter 7
When Reggie settled at one of the community picnic tables, he dropped a small cooler of beer and a brown paper bag of corn onto the top of it. Husking the corncobs at the table, he smiled on seeing Poppy heading over. He had a soft spot for the girl. She’d been a ray of sunshine in his life since he’d lost Gracie Jane. A warm smile, a good heart, and the woman could make him laugh. It was good to have another friend.
He never intended to stay as long as he had, but being near Poppy, he found he liked it. Loneliness was a battle he couldn’t win if he stayed bottled up in his house alone. Once he landed at the little camper style resort, he stuck around. There were retro trailers that had been gussied up, bright and colorful with fun party lights and lawn chairs in front of each one. The place had been in existence forever, but after their facelift, it really cheered up the place. He didn’t know he’d end up staying so long. It was one of the few places he could rent a place longer than a couple of days. The rest was history. He’d have to tackle selling his house eventually, but he wasn’t ready. And there was no way he could live in his old home with Gracie Jane being gone.
Poppy settled at the table. “Want some help husking the corn?”
“You didn’t go to the casino?” He was surprised she didn’t jump on that.
“My dad is under the weather, so I’m going to stick around in case anybody needs anything.” She picked up an ear of corn and husked it, pulling off the greens and the silk. They’d roll them in foil and cook them on the grill. It was too hot to boil them in water, steaming up a perfectly air-conditioned kitchen.
Martin Pepper made his way out of the house, looking a little worse for the wear. In a ribbed white t-shirt, shorts that were too long, and his big dark sunglasses, he made his way over. “Stupid crabs,” he grumbled.
“How are
you feeling?” Reggie asked.
“Got a problem with your ceiling?” He repeated.
“No, Dad. He asked how your stomach is doing,” Poppy said.
He shook his head, disgusted with the seafood market owner. “I think Sal is trying to kill me. We got a bad batch of crabs.”
“He’s not trying to kill you, Dad. The crabs were fine.”
“You’ll see. I’ll end up dead like that Godshaw guy, and then you’ll believe me,” he sniped.
“Don’t talk like that,” she scolded.
“Where’s Panda? I need to talk to Panda.” He was already onto something else.
“He’s probably at work. Why? What do you need?” Poppy asked.
Martin waved his hand in the air and groaned. “Ah, guy talk, nothing important. I’ll talk to him when he gets home.”
“Pops, he doesn’t live here anymore,” she reminded, which she’d had to do multiple times lately.
“What are you talking about? The two of you are always causing trouble, trying to mess me up, always under foot.” He got up grumbling to himself and walked away.
Poppy sighed.
Reggie cautiously asked, “Does that happen a lot?”
“Sadly, more often than it used to,” she said.
Reggie reached over and touched Poppy’s hand. “I’m sorry. It’s hard to see our parents aging and struggling.”
“Yeah, sometimes he seems so on the ball. He can fix anything once he gets in the zone, but it’s the other stuff, the social things, and his hearing. He refuses to get it checked, and you and I both know he desperately needs a hearing aid. Stubborn, old man,” she said.
“So, I’m looking to sell Gracie Jane’s car. Do you think I should just bring it into one of those dealers or do an ad?”
“It comes down to how much hassle you want to deal with. You might get a lower offer at the dealer, but less hassle. If you want more cash and don’t mind the hassle of appointments and such, sell it yourself,” she offered.
“Well, that settles that. I’ll hit the car dealer this weekend. I want no part of the hassle of selling it myself. I don’t have the patience for that kind of stuff,” he said.
“You can put it out front if you want with a ‘for sale’ sign on it.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I think I’m just going to sell it off quickly and get what I can. I can’t even imagine tackling the house yet.”
Poppy commiserated with him. “It’s a big job. I’d be happy to help you when you’re ready. I’ll bet you could hire a couple of college kids too. That would make the work easier.”
“That’s not half a bad idea. Thanks.” Reggie stood up. “I’m going to grab some foil so we can wrap this corn.”
Chapter 8
Poppy finally made it back to the casino. After some finagling, she got the manager talking about the altercation with the bouncer. “The thing is,” he started, “the less attention brought to him, the better. He’s had a few run-ins with the law. He’s a good employee. I don’t want any trouble for him.”
Poppy flashed ‘her’ badge and then put it away. “I’m not here to start trouble. I’m just trying to see if there was a particular woman near our victim. If I could see the footage, it would save us the trouble from officially having to go through the courts to get a hold of the tapes, and then your boy might get some light pointing in his direction. Between you and me, I’m more interested in the woman in this case than your guy. She’s been passing bad checks, and the old guy ended up dead. We think the woman might know more than she’s saying. Working together we can quickly resolve this without bringing in more people, or getting your own police department involved.”
The floor manager hesitated and then led her back to security. He told the guards in the booth to cooperate. “Show her what she needs to see.”
“Thank you,” she said, trying to keep an official tone, direct and strong.
The bored security guys were watching the cameras. Nothing good had happened all day, so this was the most excitement they had, sifting through old tapes with the possibility of finding a killer. The guards went back to the dates and times she’d requested.
“You undercover,” one of the security guards asked.
“Yeah, nobody suspects an old lady, so it’s great cover. Shh, don’t tell anybody.” She smiled, convinced she had them fooled.
Playing back the tapes, she saw the altercation was much bigger than they let on. When she’d first heard the story, it sounded like it went down smoother, and he just punched him at the end. Only, Bernie fought the guard the entire way and the guard less than gently tossed him on his ear. After tossing him to the curb, the bouncer gave him a swift kick in the abs with his steel-toed boots. Was there blood on the pavement? Could she get a sampling if it was still there and maybe have her brother run it? Could Bernie have had internal bleeding? And where was Cherry? She was nowhere to be seen on the video. Poppy thought they gambled together. So if she was hanging out with him, where exactly was she during the altercation? Did the bouncer go after Bernie off camera? He’s seen leaving the view of the camera. Did he follow him to his car and scuffle with him again?
Poppy thanked the security guards and turned to leave.
“Hey, how long have you been a sheriff?” One of the guards quizzed her.
“Longer than you’ve been alive,” she said and strolled out. Her entire insides were quivering. How she’d gotten away with it, she wasn’t sure. That two bit badge she flashed came from a toy store. With a little bit of nail polish, she was able to cover the play lettering in metallic silver to match the rest of the badge. Her heart thundered in her chest the first time she flashed it. She tucked it into a wallet and faked it the best she could. Reggie would be angry to hear she used a fake badge, but at least she didn’t ask him for his again.
Driving home, she thought back to Cherry Jones. The woman was known for bad checks, she gambled with Bernie, but was nowhere to be seen on the tape. Were they running a scam together? Was she causing a distraction somewhere else? Or was she not involved at all, and just off playing the slot machines. And while they were hanging out again, were they merely old friends or had they become lovers once again. There was only one way to find out. She hoped Cherry got loose lips when she had a few cocktails in her. It was Poppy’s first and only plan. She certainly wouldn’t just blurt it out sober. Or would she?
And what about Vera? How much did she know? Was she a scorned lover? A woman seeking revenge? Or was she the innocent victim? Cherry could have been lying about the watch. Maybe she lifted it off of him after killing him. And what about the bouncer? What happened when he followed Bernie off camera? If there were parking lot cameras, she wasn’t going back to find out. She risked it with this first attempt of seeing the tapes. If she went back, they might become suspicious and want a closer look at her fake badge.
Vera, Cherry, and the bouncer were at the top of her list of suspects. And they still couldn’t rule out suicide. She should probably let the professionals handle it. It’s just that not much happened in Palmetto Keys these days. This was interesting and exciting. She missed her glory days as a paramedic running calls. Both Orlando and Kissimmee weren’t too far, and most of the activity happened over that way. Palmetto Keys was a tiny dot on the map about 20 minutes away from the hub-bub, but once you got off the highway, you’d never know you were so close to the tourist attractions. The further you went, the more rural it got. The only crowds at that point were on the highways. Any back road could lead you into nothingness.
Once the ‘mouse’ and ‘wizard boy’ got there with all the theme parks, the development and growth bloomed in so many directions. At least the small town of Palmetto Keys was still quiet. Mostly. Except when there is a death, and they believe there was a chance it was a homicide. What if it was a suicide?
Poppy pulled up to the resort and headed to the office. “Pops, what are you doing?”
“Covering the counter for you, like you asked,” he vent
ed.
“Where are your pants?” She loved the man, but some days were more difficult than others.
He looked down. “Oh.” He’d only put on his shirt and underwear. “Imagine that.” He seemed amused and laughed. Turning, he went back to his room to find the rest of his clothing.
Poppy sighed. She’d have to talk to Panda about their father. He had it together most days, but lately his gears seemed to be falling off. Something had changed these last few months. Her father wasn’t quite the man he used to be. He needed some extra help. If her dad would allow it, she’d get him an aid. She would take care of him herself, but he was too stubborn to let her. She hated the idea of an assisted living facility. He’d been at the resort for so many years. It was home.
Poppy waited for check-ins. There were only two that day, so once they were managed and sent on their way with their keys, she decided to pay Cherry Jones a visit. She brought a bottle of wine and two glasses. It was time to have some girl talk.
Cherry answered the door, surprised to see Poppy standing there.
“Care for a glass of wine? I could really use some girl talk,” she said.
“Girl talk is nice. I haven’t had a girlfriend in ages. Most women don’t care for me,” Cherry admitted.
“That’s nonsense. Man, I’ve got something going on with my father. I don’t even know how to handle it. I could use some laughter.” She settled onto one of the two lawn chairs and opened the wine. “Do you want a glass?”
“That would be great.” Cherry sat beside Poppy and starting chattering about life back home. She was thinking about moving to Florida permanently. She needed a change, a new start.
“There’s nothing keeping you back in Pennsylvania?” Poppy inquired.
“Not with Bernie gone. We went back a long way. We never did get over each other. We had amazing chemistry,” she reminisced, smiling. “We just always ended up fighting about money. I never stopped loving that boy.”
“Cheers,” Poppy said, handing her new ‘friend’ a glass. Together the women took a sip. Talking into the night, she finally got out the question she’d been wanting to. “You and Bernie, I won’t tell. Were you two still…you know?”
