Mabel, Murder, & Muffins

by Sharon Mierke

  “Maybe,” I said, “they’re all undercover cops. Why didn’t we think of that before? What if the whole thing was to expose Cecile and his drug deals?”

  “Okay, but remember when you were in Tucker’s house? You said someone named Andy phoned and left a message for Grace. You also said, the woman’s voice on the recorder sounded like the Grace Hobbs and the woman who left the message sounded like Andrea Williams,” Stella said. “So, why would this Grace be with Hatcher? They were obviously in something together.”

  “Just a minute,” I said. I grabbed the hotel notepad and pen. “I’m going to write down all the things that we know for sure. There isn’t much but it might help us to get it straight in our minds.”

  I looked up at them. “Okay, start. What do we know for sure?”

  “Well,” Flori said. “We know that Grace Hobbs is not Grace Hobbs but is Andrea somebody. And, we know she was white so the dead Andrea Williams isn’t the Andrea Williams who is black and missing.”

  “Hold it! We don’t know that she’s Andrea Williams, do we? All we know is that her first name is Andrea. I mean, lots of people have the same first name, right?”

  “You’re right,” Stella said. “Do you think because she’s a crook, that when she found out the other woman on the trip had the same first name, she decided it would be best to use different name?”

  “I have no idea, Stella, but it sounds logical, doesn’t it?” I looked at them. “So, what else do we know?”

  “We know that Hatcher is a shyster and that he and Andrea or Grace were involved in this thing together. Which is a good motive for murder; especially, since we know that they were arguing about it. Oh yes, and we know that the whole Las Vegas thing was just a front for some illegal goings-on. What it was, we don’t know but it could’ve been drugs or guns.”

  “We don’t know if there were any guns involved, Flori. It could’ve been illegal gambling of some kind, couldn’t it? After all, that's what goes on in Vegas.”

  Flori shook her head. “We don’t really know much at all, Mabel. I think we should’ve stayed home.”

  “Don’t say that,” Stella said. “We had lots of fun doin’ this. Hey, maybe someday, I might even make a trip up to Parson’s Cove, if y’all say it’s okay.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Flori said. “Mabel and I both have lots of spare bedrooms.”

  I don’t but I didn’t want to spoil Flori’s moment. Besides, it would serve Jake right if he had another ‘Flori’ in the house.

  “Okay, girls,” I said. “Humor me. Let’s go and check out those two houses on P1/2.”

  It was almost dark now and the streetlights were slowly coming on. First, we checked out Cecile’s house. Nothing had changed. There were no lights, no movement of any kind. It looked as deserted as Stella’s house, next door. Disappointed, I asked if we could go by the Williams’ house.

  This time, the light in the little overhang above the front door was on but with all the blinds down, it looked as if no one was home. We drove slowly down the street and came back through the lane. There were two cars parked closely together by the back door.

  “Look,” I said. “Somebody might be there. Stella, can you move over into this yard so we can watch?”

  She pulled up, almost touching bumpers with one of the cars, and then whipped into reverse. I don’t know if she had her eyes open or not; I know I didn’t. At least, we were off the back lane and sandwiched between a dilapidated shed and garage. If a car drove down the lane, no one would bother to look. The old Cadillac seemed to blend in with the shed and garage quite nicely.

  We sat in silence and watched for about ten minutes.

  “I wish we would’ve brought the snacks with us,” Flori said.

  “I wish we would’ve brought the beer,” I said.

  It was after nine before we saw the back door open. None of us said a word. A man walked out first, followed by a woman. They walked over to the car closest to the door and got in.

  “Do you know who they are?” Stella whispered.

  “Maybe,” I whispered back. “The woman might be Andrea Williams. It’s hard to tell. I’m sure I don’t know who the man is.”

  “I wonder,” Flori said. “I wonder if she knows that Grace Hobbs is dead. I mean, she would think her name was Grace Hobbs, wouldn’t she?”

  “I would think so. Unless, everything was a lie and they knew each other before. Maybe they just exchanged names?”

  “No,” Stella said. “Grace Hobbs was really Andrea Williams and Andrea Williams was really Andrea Williams. Isn’t that how it is?”

  “So, now,” I said. “One Andrea Williams is dead and one is alive.”

  “Then,” Flori said, “where is Grace Hobbs?”

  “You know what?” I said. “As soon as those two leave, let’s go and watch a movie. This is too perplexing for me.”

  “Wait,” Stella whispered. “There’s someone else comin’ out. A woman. You know who they are, Mabel?”

  It was obvious that the woman wasn’t a willing companion. The man behind her either had one of her arms shoved behind her back and he was propelling her towards the car or he had a gun in her back and that’s what was propelling her. The woman inside the car reached back and opened the back door. It swung open and the couple on the outside tumbled inside. It all happened quickly and I’m sure they didn’t notice our car.

  I shook my head. “I couldn’t make out who those two were. Somehow, the woman looks familiar. It’s just too dark out.”

  “And, you need glasses,” Flori interjected. “Why did you think the other one was Andrea?”

  “Mostly by the shape. And her hair. Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t realize that all of them seemed to be shaped the same.”

  The car’s backup lights came on and we ducked.

  The car drove away. No one stopped to check us out.

  After all, who would suspect anyone driving an old pink Cadillac, right?

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Flori and I were sound asleep when the banging started. Stella had left about an hour earlier. We’d tried our hardest to watch the movie but none of us could stay awake. No matter how many chips we put in our mouths or how many jellybeans we popped, our eyes kept drifting shut. The beer definitely didn’t help. All it did was make Stella and me run to the bathroom every twenty minutes. Flori tried making coffee in our little coffeemaker but it tasted awful so we dropped that idea. Finally, when Stella woke herself up, snoring, we decided to call it quits. As soon as she shut the door, after promising to pick us up for breakfast, Flori and I crawled under the covers, clothes and all.

  When the banging started, I thought it was part of some dream so I turned over, believing it would eventually stop.

  “Mabel,” Flori yelled. She was sitting up in bed. “Wake up. Somebody’s banging on our door.”

  I pulled the bedspread over my head. “No, you wake up. I’m too tired.”

  She slid off her bed, took two steps over to mine, and started shaking me. The room was black. I don’t know how she even found me.

  I grabbed her arm. “Flori, what are you doing? Stop that.”

  Another sharp bang on the door soon brought me to my senses.

  I sat up. “Flori, who’s at the door?”

  She started to whisper. “I don’t know. Should we call the front desk? Whoever it is, is waking up the whole building.”

  “Just wait. I’ll go and look through the peephole.”

  Before I could get to the door, someone called out, “Mabel, Flori. Open up!”

  “Is that you, Jake?” Flori shouted.

  By that time, my eye was at the peephole.

  “No, it isn’t.” My heart was in my mouth. Or, someplace because I don’t think it was beating in its right spot.

  I took off the chain latch and undid the deadbolt.

  Before I could open it all the way, Captain Maxymowich had pushed it open. I flipped the switch and two bedside lamps came to life. Flori and I b
oth started blinking.

  “Well, well, what do we have here?” he said. He kept coming towards us and we kept backing up until Flori’s bed got in the way. He was so close; I could smell his aftershave and see the hairs inside his nose. That was much too close to be to Captain Maxymowich. Flori grabbed my hand and we stood there; nowhere to hide. “A couple of private investigators? Is that what you are? What do you have to say for yourselves, Mabel?”

  The poor, undoubtedly harangued, night clerk was hovering in the background, his acne and freckles brighter than before. A deputy in khaki pants and shirt, with all sorts of paraphernalia drooping from his waist, stood beside him. We took turns staring at each other for several seconds.

  “What do you mean, Captain Maxymowich?” I asked. “And to be fair, it seems you’re singling me out.”

  “It does, does it?”

  He turned to the clerk and said, “You can leave now.” The young man hurried away, probably heading for the nearest restroom to relieve himself. The Captain nodded towards the other law officer. He walked in and closed the door.

  Maxymowich looked exhausted. Not that I was feeling tenderhearted all of a sudden, it was only an observation. His wrinkled suit and slouch didn’t help. He looked at me and then at Flori.

  “So?” He raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Isn’t a person allowed to take a vacation without the police getting involved?” I asked.

  “You came here strictly for a vacation, did you?”

  I could hear Flori starting to pant. She can’t stand it when I start lying. Which I wouldn’t do if I wasn’t put on the defensive.

  “Yes, among other things.”

  “Like sitting in a back lane spying on a house?”

  “Which house?”

  “The one on P½. You probably remember being there.”

  “Oh, that house.”

  “We’re being very patient with you, Mabel. You tend to forget that if you interfere with the solving of a crime, I could arrest you. Or, worse yet, you could get hurt. Even killed. Are you aware of that or do you think you live in some kind of bubble and no harm could ever befall you?”

  “How could I be arrested if I’m helping?” I turned and looked at the young deputy. “That shouldn’t be a crime, should it?” He blushed and looked uncomfortable.

  “We wouldn’t want you to get hurt, ma’am,” he said.

  The Captain straightened up. “You aren’t aware of this, girls, but not long after you left, someone was almost killed in that same back yard.”

  I looked at Flori and she looked at me; we both looked at Maxymowich.

  “Killed?” we said, simultaneously.

  He nodded. “You could’ve screwed up the whole investigation.”

  “But,” I said, “how did you know we were there? Who told you?”

  “Ben Williams got hold of us and asked us to come and have you removed. It seems the Yellow Rose police force thinks I should be looking out for you. Fortunately, by the time we got to the lane, you were leaving.”

  “How did he know it was us? It could’ve been any car sitting back there. And, we did duck down. He couldn’t have seen us.”

  Maxymowich sighed. “Mabel, you were sitting in an old pink Cadillac. You got out of the exact same car when you went to the house, earlier in the day. How stupid do you think the police are anyway?”

  I could feel my cheeks getting hot. Flori looked ready to burst into tears.

  “Now what are you going to do with us?” I asked.

  “I’m going to ask a big favor.”

  “We’ll do anything,” Flori said, her voice quivering.

  “Within reason,” I said.

  The deputy glanced down at the floor but not before I caught a glimpse of his smile. I knew he wasn’t a bad sort the moment I saw his face. I mean, there has to be at least one officer of the law who isn’t narrow minded and stubborn. Perhaps, it was because he was young and hadn’t faced all the terrible situations that dear Mr. Maxymowich had. Also, he wasn’t retired out to pasture like Reg was. Old age can make one cynical too, I suppose. Besides, I liked his clean-cut look, his shaved head, and lopsided grin.

  “This,” the Captain said, “is within reason. I don’t want you leaving this hotel until it’s time for you to take the shuttle to Houston to catch your plane. Got that?”

  “What about food?” Flori asked. “Can we go out for breakfast? Stella is coming to pick us up.”

  The Captain blinked several times, sighed, and rubbed his eyes. Flori, I knew, was waiting with great anticipation for that breakfast. If we had to cancel our last meal with Stella, my friend would be heartbroken.

  “I can keep an eye on them, if you like,” the deputy said. “I’m off duty at eight so I could accompany them for breakfast.” He looked at me and grinned. “I have to go for breakfast anyway, might as well go with a couple of lovely young ladies.”

  Maxymowich shrugged. The man comes up against hardened criminals every day but five minutes with two old women and he can’t seem to get it together. It was clearly frustrating for him. “Up to you, Bumstead. Just keep your guard up, that’s all I can say. They aren't as innocent as they look.”

  “Okay, girls, I’ll be back at eight-thirty. Think you can manage to stay here until then? And, out of trouble?” He winked.

  “We’ll try our darnedest,” I said. “Thanks so much, Sheriff Bumstead.”

  “Well, I’m just a deputy. You can call me Kyle, ma’am.” He made a slight bow when he said, ‘ma’am.’

  Maxymowich stopped with his hand on the doorknob and said, “I haven’t slept in two days, girls, and I get cranky. You don’t want to see me cranky.” For some reason, he seemed to keep his eyes peeled on me. “Don’t do anything to upset me, Mabel.”

  He held the door open for the deputy. Kyle gave us one last wink and they were gone. Flori and I stood for a minute or two, just looking at each other and not saying a word.

  “Mabel,” Flori said. “I don’t even want to talk about this murder thing again. I want to get into my nightie, go to sleep, and pretend none of this ever happened.” With that, she grabbed her nightgown, went into the bathroom, and the last thing I heard before I fell asleep was her electric toothbrush.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Deputy Bumstead arrived right on time. Flori had phoned Stella to fill her in. Of course, she tended to exaggerate somewhat. From her perspective, it sounded like an old Western. Gunfight on Avenue P ½. Personally, I was wondering if it were even true. Maybe Maxymowich was just trying to scare us. Scare us into submission. I wouldn’t put it past him.

  “He wouldn’t do that and you know it,” Flori said. “The Captain is not a liar. Besides, he was right. We had no business being there.” She stared at me until I made eye contact. She does this to me. I hate it. “Wouldn’t you feel terrible if we spoiled their whole investigation? What if there had been a real killing and it was our fault? How would we be able to live with ourselves, Mabel?” Her eyes filled with tears.

  “But, that’s not what happened, Flori, so don’t get all upset. Don’t forget, we got out of there before there was any gunfight.” I bent down and tied my running shoes. “I wonder who the target was? What do you think, Flori?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. That was that, for the time being.

  Stella was a little flustered when she found out that a policeman was escorting us to breakfast in a cruiser but it didn’t take long for her to adjust.

  “Say,” she said to Kyle as soon as we were all settled in the back seat, “Didn’t you go to school with my son, Spenser?”

  “You mean, Spenser Townley?”

  She beamed. “That’s him. He’s a fire fighter, jus’ like his daddy.”

  “Sure, I remember Spense.” He turned around and smiled. “Glad to hear he’s doin’ so good. We didn’t go to school together but we did have some contact at one point. Something he probably didn’t share with his mama.” He
grinned and winked. “So, where we headed? Any special place y’all were fixin' to eat at?”

  “How about you choose, Deputy Bumstead?” I suggested.

  “All right, but y’all better start calling me Kyle or you’ll be in big trouble with the Law.” He turned around and winked again.

  “We don’t have any problem with that, do we, girls?” I said.

  “And, it doesn’t mean we don’t respect you as much,” Flori had to add.

  Kyle took off flying out of the parking lot while Stella, Flori, and I hung on for our lives. In three seconds or less, he pulled into a small dumpy diner.

  “Oh, oh,” Stella whispered. “Maybe we should’ve chosen. This is a dive.”

  “Why would a cop eat here then?” I whispered back.

  She shrugged. “All of them come here. I don’t know why.”

  The three of us spilled out of the car as soon as Kyle opened our door. We would’ve opened it ourselves except there weren’t any handles in the backseat.

  Stella was right; the place was a dive. You could cut the tobacco smoke with a machete. If there was a non-smoking area, it wouldn’t have made any difference because it was so small. I’m not sure what color the walls were; there was an inch or so of soot on them. There were windows along two walls and Kyle headed for a booth that was empty and faced the Gulf. We trailed after him while everyone in the place stopped eating or drinking, including talking, and watched. After we sat down, I looked around. Most of the people appeared to be city workers. One or two looked like homeless men. There wasn’t one man in a suit. The only other woman was a very pregnant one who sat a couple of booths down. She was puffing away on a cigarette. Flori was sitting across from me beside Stella so she couldn’t see. I was glad because if she had, she might’ve gone over and knocked that cigarette right out of her mouth. Not that I would blame her. I’ve never been pregnant but even I know that’s a big no-no. There should be a worldwide law that no one can smoke in any place where there are people - never mind these silly 'no smoking' areas.