Molly Grey Cozy Mystery Collection

by Donna Doyle

  "You too," Dora grinned, "And if the bed bugs bite… then take your shoe and—"

  "It's all right, Dora. I meant it. Good night."

  6

  Detectives at work

  Molly Gertrude had been right.

  Dora had indeed gone to the hair dresser, right after she dropped off the old woman, and had spent the next two hours in Calmhaven's only hair salon, ‘The Shear Delight’. And then, when she had finally arrived home, it had taken her another good while to get her clothes ready for the next day.

  At last, close to midnight, she was satisfied that everything was as it should be. She set her alarm at 6.00 AM sharp, so she would still have plenty of time to get ready, and then she crawled in between the linen sheets and under her fluffy blanket. She was exhausted but intensely satisfied. Tomorrow, she would be riding with Deputy Digby.

  Molly Gertrude had still cautioned her to keep her eyes on the real work before them, and not to get distracted by other things, but Dora had been too preoccupied to hear.

  Thus, when Digby rang the bell the next morning at nine sharp, she looked stunning.

  For once, her light brown hair was not casually tied together in the familiar pony tail, but hung loosely over her shoulders in wavy curls, and was kept in place by the best products The Shear Delight had to offer. Her slacks had gone too. They had been replaced by a pretty, light blue summer dress with a daffodil design, and the sensible shoes she was normally wearing had been exchanged for her expensive blue Women's Clearwater Sandals she had won some months earlier at Pastor Julian's bingo night to help support the missions.

  "Are you read…" Digby could not finish his sentence when Dora opened the door and cast him a shy smile. "Y-You look different," he stammered.

  A look of insecurity flashed over Dora's face. "You don't like it?"

  Digby shook his head. "Do I not like it? I-I have never seen a more beautiful sight to behold." He swallowed hard and fumbled with the car keys in his hands. "It's just… well, we are not going out for dinner. I may have to arrest a woman today."

  "I know," Dora mumbled, as she pressed her lips together while she stared at Digby. He looked handsome in his tightly-pressed uniform with his warm, adventurous eyes, and his boyish smile. "Just thought it will be warm in the car, so I sort of dressed for the occasion."

  He arranged his police hat, causing a few of his blond curls to jump out, and he gave her a wide grin. "Well, it suits me fine. I am ready if you are ready…"

  "Ready," Dora said, "Let's go."

  Digby walked over to the side of the squad car and gallantly opened the door for Dora. Today she would not have to drive her own Kia Rio. Today she would be driven.

  Molly Gertrude's alarm clock did not go off at 6, as Dora's had. There was no reason for her to get up that early, especially not because Dora would be gone for most of the day, and most of the current business at the office was under control. Only the marriage party of Bloomsteyn and Deborah was still a reason for concern, but the whole thing was entirely out of her hands. She would just have to wait.

  Thus, when her alarm clock went off at 8, she felt rested, and although her joints hurt and the arthritis in her hands seemed especially painful today, she was able to safely climb out of bed and start her day.

  Molly Gertrude followed a simple routine. First Misty needed to be caressed. The petting of her white sweetheart usually took a good fifteen minutes, and lasted until Misty's motor was sufficiently warmed up. When Misty was purring so loud that it almost became embarrassing, Molly Gertrude knew her cat was ready for the day. She would then serve Misty her breakfast, and was confident her house would stay clear of mice, rats and rodents.

  And only then would she turn to her own needs. Coffee, wash up, getting dressed, more coffee, and finally, a small breakfast of oatmeal mixed with banana and nuts, often topped off with one of her own Citrus Curd Cookies.

  Molly Gertrude was ready to face the day.

  But today Dora would not pick her up, and therefore she called Buster's Safe Speeding and ordered a cab.

  Ten minutes later a yellow Mercedes came to a halt right before her front door, and the driver, a friendly fellow from Indian descent and of small stature, knocked on her door. He treated Molly to a warm, oriental smile when she had opened up, and said in a rather high, heavily accented voice, "Buster's Safe Speeding at your service, Ma'am. My name is Gopal Gupta. Where will the journey lead us today?"

  "Well Gopal," Molly Gertrude said while she blinked her eyes against the sunlight that was streaming in, "I am not completely sure, but I believe today's journey should at least start at Winston Park Road 14."

  "I know where that is," Gopal Gupta grinned, and he heaved a sigh of relief. "Just saw it yesterday on the map. That's on the other side of the canal, isn't it?"

  Molly Gertrude stared at the bubbly fellow, feeling a little miffed. "You doknow your way around Calmhaven, don't you Gopal? After all, you are a cab driver…"

  "Just new, Ma'am," Gopal said and he pressed his lips together in an apologetic fashion. "This is my first day on the job. Just arrived in Calmhaven from Hyderabad, last month." Then he added, "But no worries, Ma'am. I've got lots of experience, as I was a rickshaw driver most of my life." He shook his head around, and gave Molly Gertrude another one of his toothy smiles. "Any luggage, Ma'am? If not, let's go and I will get you to your destination."

  Molly Gertrude couldn't help but wonder if Gopal Gupta even possessed a driver's license.

  Should she ask?

  Maybe not. The man seemed so eager to please, and she should not dampen his enthusiasm. After all, Buster's safe Speeding was a renowned taxi-service, at least in the vicinity of Calmhaven, and what choice did she have?

  "No luggage, Gopal," Miss Molly Gertrude replied. "We can go."

  Gopal kept on smiling and helped her onto the soft back seat of the Mercedes car.

  He could drive.

  Not as good as Dora, but he seemed to know how to steer, and he knew where the brakes were as well. That was proven to Molly only minutes after take-off, when he stepped on the brakes to avoid a street dog that had absent-mindedly wandered out onto the road. He pushed the brakes so abruptly and hard, that Molly Gertrude was first pushed with her nose against the headrest of the front seat after which she was thrown back in her seat.

  "W-What's going on, Gopal?"

  "A dog," Gopal replied without looking back, while he clenched the steering wheel so tight with his hands that the blood had drained from his knuckles. "But we are all right.' Now he turned and his smile was back. "Just like in India, Ma'am," he bubbled. "You want me to tell you about that time I almost crashed into a cow on Pongal, the harvest Festival?"

  Molly Gertrude just shook her head and leaned back. "Thank you, Gopal. Just drive."

  Half an hour later they arrived at Winston Park Road. With Dora the trip would have taken no more than 10 minutes, but Gopal lost some time when he missed a turn off, and then attempted to drive into a one-way street. Molly Gertrude had to help him find his way back, but the old lady did not mind. Gopal Gupta would learn in time, and the man was no sourpuss, but still carried that happy, oriental zeal that was inspired by a life full of sunshine.

  A man like Bloomsteyn could learn something from him.

  Molly Gertrude gave him a generous tip that caused Gopal's eyes to become round and big, and she thanked him for the ride. "Just tell your boss to give you a GPS, Gopal, and study up on the traffic rules. But thanks for the ride."

  Gopal beamed. He thought for a moment and then asked with longing eyes, "Do you need a ride back home?"

  "I'll find my way home," Molly Gertrude answered. "God bless you."

  He nodded, closed his window and drove off, leaving Molly behind in Winston Park Road.

  Now where is number 14?

  Dora had not been to Boulder Valley very often. She had visited the place a few times as a child, when her parents had taken her to Freestone Lake, the well-known holiday resort, right on the
other side of Boulder Valley. She still remembered the magnificent scenery on the way. There was the highway that first led through vast forests of evergreens, and then snaked its way along wheat fields that stretched out as far as the eye could see. She also could picture the Kipland River, halfway to Boulder Valley, and that idyllic little road restaurant with its balcony that hung right above the roaring waters. Her parents would stop there for coffee and treat her to a strawberry milkshake.

  That was so long ago. Maybe she should take her parents there again. This time the treat would be on her.

  Dora wondered if the place would still be there. What was it called again? She pressed her eyes closed in an effort to fish the name back out of her memory bank. A funny name it had been…

  The Golden Dipper.That was it.

  It would be nice to have a cup of coffee there with Digby. The weather was soft and balmy, and if she remembered well, the terrace was in the shade. Should she ask?

  They had not been talking much. Digby was constantly clearing his throat, but when Dora had asked him if he was thirsty he shook his head. "Nothing… just something in my throat."

  He just kept his eyes glued to the road, but she did notice he often glanced at her the moments he thought she wasn't looking.

  "Digby?" she asked when the road sloped down and joined the Kipland River.

  He cast her a quick glance. "What?"

  "I came here when I was a kid. With my parents."

  "Really?" he said, while he kept staring at the road.

  "Yes… there's this little restaurant coming up… I mean, if it's still there. I haven't been there in about twenty years."

  Digby frowned. "A restaurant?"

  Dora licked her lips. "It used to be called the Golden Dipper."

  "Oh," Digby said. "Why?"

  "It would be nice to have a cup of coffee there. It's right near the water…"

  She stared at Digby and tried to read his thoughts. He was not a man to slouch on the job, so maybe he would think it was very insensitive, or even selfish of her to suggest such a thing and to put pleasure before duty. "Not now of course…," she added quickly, "I mean, on the way back, After the work is done… Coffee, and maybe a… donut?"

  Digby relaxed. He broke into a wide smile. "Really? A cup of coffee? That sounds wonderful."

  Dora relaxed. He likes the idea.

  Then a shadow crossed his face. "What if I have to arrest Bloomsteyn's ex-wife? I don't think I want to have coffee with you surrounded by the sound of rushing waters and songbirds when I have a handcuffed lady sitting in my car. I can think of a more romantic setting."

  Of course. She should have thought about that. "You are right," she mumbled, feeling dumb. "I should not have brought that up. Let's forget about it."

  But Digby shook his head. "It's a lovely idea. Why not stop there right now," he suggested with a wide grin.

  "Right now? I mean… can we?" Dora giggled.

  Digby nodded. "Crime we will always have with us… but driving with you through what appears to be paradise is a rare treat. I think we should make the most of this opportunity. What's more, I think I need a potty break anyway."

  Dora couldn't suppress a smile. "That's wonderful, Dawson.” All of a sudden she remembered he had told her once that his first name was Dawson, but that everyone just called him Digby.

  "You remembered my first name?" he said, as he cast her a gentle smile. "But don't worry, just keep on calling me Digby." He chuckled. "Even my own mother is now calling me Digby. You can call me anything you want, as long as it is not officer, or deputy!"

  Just then Digby spotted a sign that announced that there was a road restaurant coming up. "Look… in about a mile there's a place called The Golden Dipper. Is that the place you were talking about?"

  "It is," Dora cried out. If she had been a little girl that was going to the circus for the first time in her life, she wouldn't have sounded more excited. "It's still there."

  Minutes later, Digby clicked on his right blinker and took the exit that led to the beautiful rest stop near the river, surrounded by mountains and forests. The place had not changed much since Dora had been there as a child. Only the parking lot was bigger. There was a lot of space but Digby drove all the way to the far end of the parking lot, where he could park the squad car in the shade of some trees. "It will stay nice and cool in the shade that way," he explained. "And, we are nicely out of sight as well. A squad car makes people rather edgy, you know."

  Dora nodded. She did not feel edgy in the least.

  "So… coffee and a donut?" Digby asked after they had stepped out, and he had locked the car. "You go in already and order. It's my treat. I just need to go to the restroom." He pointed to a separate little building, next to the Golden Dipper with the word Restroom.

  Dora looked up at Digby and marveled. He appeared to be so strong and handsome as he stood there in his uniform, his buttons reflecting the light of the sun. "I'll order," she simply stated, hoping Digby had not noticed her gaping at him like that. But, what a golden opportunity it was, to have coffee with Digby in such a wonderful setting. This was as good as it could ever get.

  She opened the entrance door, and stepped inside. The place was just as she remembered, with its wooden interior and wide glass windows that were overlooking the river. It even still smelled just the same, with that strong, but delightful scent of pinewood. How strange. Coming here was almost as if she was stepping into her past, and yet it was vastly different. Opposite the entrance was a wide wooden bar that carried a giant old-fashioned teller machine and a variety of drinking glasses. That was new, and so was the giant chalkboard that announced the specialties of the day. But the deer heads that were hanging on the wall were still the same ones Dora remembered. How sad she had felt the first time they had come there, and as she had stared at those magnificent deer with their antlers, she had wanted to leave again. Of course, her Daddy had told her not to worry, and the temptation of a milkshake had proven stronger than her feelings of empathy with the dead animals on the wall.

  It was still early, and there were hardly any customers. In a corner, near the entrance, sat a woman with her young child. They were each devouring a banana split ice cream, much like Dora remembered from her own youth. And at the far end two men were having a discussion, but for the rest, there was nobody.

  "Good morning." A man, dressed in a suit with a butterfly tie, stepped out of a shadowy corner and offered her a wide and well exercised smile. He rubbed his hands together and then offered her any of the empty seats in his place. Dora figured he was the proprietor, but surely he was too young to have been the owner when she had visited there before.

  "The kitchen is still closed, but we have a superb variety of smaller dishes," he said with what appeared to be an Italian accent.

  Dora smiled back. "Can my friend and I have a cup of coffee, and possibly a donut? We do not need very much."

  "Of course," the man said in polite tones. "Here, or out on the terrace?" He pointed to a small hallway that led to the place Dora remembered so well.

  "The terrace," Dora replied. "I've been here as a child and I remember the terrace well."

  "Have you now? I am glad to hear that."

  The two men in the far corner started to talk a little louder, and one of them raised his finger, almost as if he were angry. He was a scary looking fellow, although he was sitting too far away to get a good look at his eyes. He was wearing a fedora hat, that was pushed far over his forehead. The proprietor cast them a worried glance and then said, "Find a place outside, Miss, somebody will be with you shortly." Without waiting for Dora's reply he walked over to the table with the two men, apparently in an effort to calm both of them down a bit.

  Dora still stared at the scene. The man who was sitting with his back away from the door looked vaguely familiar. Dora walked towards the little hallway and looked again. Surely, she wouldn't know anybody here… or would she?

  She looked again.

  Fro
m where she was now standing she had a better view… And that's when her heart skipped a beat.

  She knew that man…

  There was no mistake possible.

  That man was … Bloomsteyn.What in the world was he doing here?

  Dora pushed herself against the wooden wall of the little hallway, and peered around the corner in the hopes of learning more. Bloomsteyn and the other man were now clearly arguing. They were getting louder, and the atmosphere became more aggressive. The proprietor of The Golden Dipper got involved as well, but he had switched to Italian. Dora could clearly hear him say, "Non qui dentro, stupidi. Parla nel seminterrato." *

  She had no idea what that meant.

  The mother with her daughter cast a fearful glance to the scene. Her child had already finished her banana split and although the mother still had most of her ice cream left, she clearly had enough. She put down a bill, got up, and marched her daughter out of the place. Not what you would call very good advertising.

  What about Digby? Somehow, it seemed best if Bloomsteyn wouldn't see either one of them. It was probably best to stop Digby from coming in. If she would move back to the entrance she could tell him that Bloomsteyn was here. She needed to be fast, as Bloomsteyn pushed his chair away and got up while he held up both of his hands. "I just need a few more days," he yelled. "I told you I am working this out. Why aren't you more reasonable?"

  "We've given you all the time in the world," the man with the fedora hat hissed back, still seated. "You've got till the end of the week, you hear me. No more excuses."

  Then to Dora's horror she heard the front door open. Digby was about to come in, and even though she had no idea what was going on between Bloomsteyn and the others, the appearance of a uniformed police officer was most unwelcome.

  Now.

  Dora slipped back into the dining area and virtually ran back to the front.