Mabel, Murder, & Muffins

by Sharon Mierke

  “Of course, we didn’t know that. He looked just like a gangster. Even Stella thought he was. So did you, didn’t you, Mabel? Imagine Stella living next door all that time and thinking he was dealing drugs. Well, I guess he really was, wasn’t he?” She giggled and carried on, “It was nice of Kyle to fill us in on that, wasn’t it? Such a nice deputy, wasn’t he, Mabel?”

  Jake thought he should get in on the conversation, I suppose.

  “Who is this Stella?” he asked. “And, why would you think this guy was dealing drugs? What were you doing there anyway, Flori? When we talked on the phone all you talked about was how beautiful the water was and how good the restaurants were.”

  “Oh, Jake, we weren’t really doing anything. And, it’s true, the restaurants were awesome, weren’t they, Mabel?” I nodded and she kept talking. “Reg is just upset, that’s all. There was no way we got into any trouble with the Law. Well, at least, Stella and I didn’t. All we did was follow Hatcher and when we saw him going into the jail, we went back to Stella’s. Mabel is the one who took all the chances. She really should be a private investigator.”

  “Thanks so much,” I said.

  “Yes,” Reg said. “Thanks so much, Flori. Now, Mabel, how about you fill us in on what you did while you were in Yellow Rose? It was enough to get Captain Maxymowich to leave town and go hunting for you.” The car swerved as he turned to talk to me. “Well, what do you have to say? It’s the taxpayers, like Jake here and me, who are paying for that plane ride back home, you know.”

  “You’re kidding,” I said. “You mean we can get our money refunded for the return ticket?”

  Reg shrugged. “Check with the airlines. All I know is that Maxymowich arranged to have both of you brought back. Seems he doesn’t worry where the money comes from.”

  Jake piped up. “That sounds good. You might be able to get your money back, Flori. Did you know that?”

  “I really don’t care, Jake. You can check it out if you want to. Mabel, you might as well tell them everything. We’re going to have to eventually anyway.”

  I was kind of hoping it would be ‘eventually’ and by that time, there wouldn’t be a mystery anymore and everyone would forget I was even involved.

  “All right, Mabel. Come clean. What did you find out down there?” Reg said, in a very stern police officer’s voice.

  "You sound just like a cop, Reg. You do realize that legally, I don't have to answer any of your questions, right? I could insist on waiting to speak to the real sheriff."

  There was dead silence in the car for several minutes. I knew I'd hit a sore spot and it was nasty of me.

  "However, since you served our community for so many years and guarded us with your very life, I will answer your questions, Reg. I do respect you as my friend and for all that you have done."

  The retired, but obviously not completely retired, sheriff did not respond. I took a deep breath.

  “Where do you want me to start?”

  “Anywhere. Just start, damn it, woman.”

  “You don’t have to use foul language, Reg.”

  I looked at him and he glared back. The tires hit the gravel. I gasped and Reg swung back onto the road. If someone had been tailing us, they would’ve thought they were following a drunken cop.

  “Okay, I’ll start from the beginning. First, we found out that Grace Hobbs lived on Avenue P½. Who, we discovered afterwards, wasn’t Grace Hobbs at all. Well, there was a Grace living there but it wasn’t the Grace we thought it was. You know, the one who was murdered. The real Grace, Cecile’s wife, is somewhere safe and I think she’s called Grace Tucker. I don’t know where she’s in hiding but I'm sure she's still alive. The cops would make sure of that. Actually, it wasn’t until we met Stella who lives next door to Grace and Cecile, that we found out that there wasn’t anyone named Hobbs living there anymore. Good thing the phone number and the name hadn’t been changed in the phone book. It was still under G. Hobbs for Ginger Hobbs. Stella thought she died mysteriously but actually she was another undercover cop; at least, that’s what Kyle told us and he said she’d been shot in the knee or something. Anyway, she’s probably in another assignment or if she was really shot in the knee, I would think she’s doing desk work somewhere.”

  Reg shook his head. “Could you get back to what you were doing there, Mabel and stop talking in circles?” Another glare - which I caught from the lights on the dashboard. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

  “Not at all, Reg. Just keep your eyes on the road. Here’s what we did. Stella, Flori, and I staked out Cecile’s house. Since Stella lives next door, it really wasn’t a problem. We shut the lights off and watched through the hurricane blinds. Of course, we didn’t know at that point that it was Cecile, the cop’s, house. We thought it was Grace’s house and that she had a drug dealer husband named Cecile.”

  Jake interrupted. “Who did you say this Stella was?” He seemed to be fixated on her.

  Flori answered, “Stella lives next door to Cecile Tucker. She’s the most wonderful person. And, you know, Jake, she’s as black as I am white. Never mind, you should’ve seen the meal she made for us. Wasn’t it delicious, Mabel?”

  “Yes, it was. Almost as good as your meals.”

  “Back to your story, Mabel,” Reg said.

  “Okay, okay. Well, the first night we watched the house. After a couple of hours, we saw Hatcher go in. Who, you know, was in Las Vegas with me. At this point, he believed that Cecile was a nasty criminal like he was. It wasn’t very long and another man arrived and went inside. As I listened under the window…”

  “What did you say?” Reg looked over at me and the car swerved.

  “Watch the road, Reg. I told you, you can’t drive and look at me at the same time.”

  Wisely, he pulled over onto the shoulder. How he could have been a traffic cop for years before coming to Parson’s Cove is a mystery to me.

  He turned off the ignition. “Now, would you repeat that? You listened under the window?”

  “I don’t have to repeat it, Reg. You just did.”

  “Don’t get smart with me. Why were you under the window?”

  “To listen. I wanted to hear what was going on.” I could make out every expression on Reg’s face. In fact, I think the shadows made them even more pronounced. His expression wasn’t too reassuring. I knew that if I didn’t cooperate, we’d be sitting here when the sun came up.

  “Do you want to know what I heard?”

  “That would be nice.”

  “I heard the boss, who by the way, had a Mexican accent. At least, that’s what I think. He was telling Hatcher that he wanted the money and he was very upset because Hatcher had trusted this woman, Grace Hobbs. Of course, we now know that it wasn’t Grace at all. This woman was Andrea Williams and Andrea Williams was really dead. Apparently, Hatcher didn’t know this. Or, at least, that’s what he claims. I have my suspicions though. He’s a good suspect for Grace’s murder.”

  “You mean Andrea’s,” Flori spoke up.

  "Right. Grace a.k.a Andrea."

  “Skip over a lot, Mabel.” Reg sighed. “Just tell me the highlights. I can’t make sense of anything you’re saying.”

  “Okay. Do you want to know how Andrea forced me into the house at gunpoint?”

  “You said that Andrea was dead.”

  “You didn’t tell me you were forced at gunpoint.” Flori suddenly became alive again. “Why didn’t you tell me, Mabel?”

  “Okay, to answer both your questions - Flori, I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d freak out. Reg, this was the real Andrea Williams. Well, the dead one was too, but this was the one who was on the trip. You know, the trip to Las Vegas. Of course, the other Andrea came on the trip with me too but I only knew her as Grace.”

  Reg looked confused. “How many Andrea Williams women are there?”

  “Two.”

  “Actually,” Flori spoke up, “there are three. Remember, Mabel? There’s that other Andrea Williams to
o.”

  “Yes, I know but let’s not make it any more complicated than it already is, Flori. We’ll just stick with the two that are involved in the case.”

  “All right,” Reg said. “Tell me what happened when you were forced into some house at gunpoint.”

  Flori came to life again. “It wasn’t just some house, was it? I bet you went back to the house on P ½ where we did surveillance that night, didn’t you? The one where there was a shootout and we almost spoiled it for the police?”

  Reg’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Thanks for your input, Flori,” I said. “How about you let me tell it my way?”

  “It better be the right way, that’s all I can say,” Reg said.

  “Trust me, it will be right.”

  “It always scares me when you say, ‘trust me.’”

  “You know, Reg,” I said, “if you promise not to look at me while you’re driving, we could head for Parson’s Cove and we wouldn’t be so late getting home.”

  He grunted and started the car. I waited until he was up to the speed limit before resuming my story.

  “It’s true, I did go back to the house on P½.”

  Flori interrupted, “But, you should explain that there are two houses of interest on P½. Actually, three, counting Stella’s but I know you wouldn’t bother going back to her place. I really don’t understand why you went back at all, especially since Kyle and the Captain gave you strict orders to stay in the hotel.”

  “Once again, thank you for revealing that, Flori.”

  Reg started to turn to me but I stopped him by saying, “Watch the road or I stop talking.”

  “All right, but you’d better do some explaining.”

  “First of all, it was our last two hours in Yellow Rose. Do you think anyone in her right mind would spend it sitting in a hotel room, watching television?”

  “That’s exactly what Stella and I did, Mabel, in case you forgot.”

  “I know and that’s just fine for you. It wasn’t for me. We really hadn’t come any closer to solving Grace’s murder than when we left home. I couldn’t just leave. There had to be some connection to her.”

  “And was there?” Reg asked.

  “Well, of course, there was. We found out who Grace Hobbs was and what she was.”

  “Did you find out who murdered her?”

  I sighed. “No, that we didn’t.”

  “So, in other words, your trip was for nothing. All the things you found out in Texas, the police already knew. In fact, I would say, you probably came close to blowing their whole operation. Am I right?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t go as far as that, Reg. Maybe the three of us even helped.”

  “Oh yeah? In what way?”

  I turned to Flori. “In what way, Flori?”

  Flori sputtered, “I’m sure in some way, Mabel.”

  “Oh, I know,” I said. “When the bullet went through the window and shattered all that glass, those cops rushed in right away. If that hadn’t happened, they might’ve been too late and either Cecile or I might have been killed.”

  “Mabel.” Flori gasped. “You never told me about that.”

  I turned around. “That’s because you said you didn’t want to talk about it. Remember? All the way home, I wanted to explain and you kept saying that.”

  “Well, I would have talked about it if I’d known you almost got killed.”

  “Okay,” Reg said. “I know when I’m beat. Let’s ride the rest of the way in silence. Mabel, you can tell your tale to Maxymowich. Maybe he’ll make some sense of it.”

  Therefore, that’s what we did because in the end, we do what the old retired cop says.

  Reg dropped me off first. As soon as I opened the door, all the cats raced outside. I knew then that I wouldn’t be hopping right into bed because within ten minutes, they’d all want back in again. How did I ever manage when I had seven? Not one of them had even stopped to ask me how I was. This is supposed to be companionship?

  While I waited for them, I slipped into my pajamas, went down to the kitchen, filled a tumbler with ice and poured in a jigger of gin. I even splurged and cut a bit of lemon for it. As I settled into my chair in the living room, I came to one conclusion - never again would I traipse off half way across the country to solve a crime. If Reg was too old to be a cop, I was too old to be a detective. It had cost me time and money and I was no closer to finding Grace’s killer than before I left. All I knew was Grace’s body wasn’t Grace’s body, it was Andrea’s body.

  One thing for which I’m forever grateful is that I didn’t see the red light blinking on my answering machine. I thought Maxymowich still had my phone so I didn’t even look in that direction. I guess Reg must have returned it and plugged it in for me. How thoughtful. If I’d listened to it, I wouldn’t have slept all night. Not even after the gin.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Once again Reg Smee sat at my kitchen table, listening to my answering machine. Déjà vu. It seemed like only yesterday that we’d been sitting, trying to figure out the other message - the life threatening one. This time, however, he wasn’t quite so quick to dismiss it as a prank call. This one wasn’t threatening; it was perplexing.

  “I’m sure this is a different person, Reg. And, this time, I know for sure that it’s a woman’s voice. Listen again.”

  Without a word, Reg hit the replay button.

  Sorry, I don’t have time to explain. Don’t want to make trouble for you. Just wanted some information. You could’ve helped. I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll see you again.

  “You can’t think of anyone who might have left this?” Reg asked.

  “Reg, I have no idea who it is or what it means. I mean, who would make trouble for me? I didn’t get into any trouble, did I?”

  “You’re always in trouble, it seems.” He hit ‘play’ again. “I know one thing; you need to get a new tape for this thing. It’s too old and scratchy.” We listened. “What do you think she meant when she said she wanted some information, that she needed your help?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t have a clue.”

  “We’re thinking it has something to do with this murder but it doesn’t have to. Could it be someone who happened to drop by to visit when you were gone?”

  “I can’t think of anyone. I don’t really know many people outside of Parson’s Cove, Reg.” I stared at him. "Except for Esther."

  "Well, it's obviously not Esther. You can blame everything that happens to you on her. What about relatives?"

  I shook my head again. There were no relatives. The Wickles' lineage ends with me.

  “You know what haunts me, Reg? The voice. It’s so depressed sounding. Don’t you think?”

  “Yeah. Whoever it is sounds like they just lost their best friend.”

  “Maybe that’s it. Could it be someone who knew Grace Hobbs? Or, I should say Andrea Williams? Maybe it was someone who heard about the murder so came to see what had happened. What do you think?”

  Reg thought for a moment. “Do you know any of Grace’s friends or Andrea’s friends, or whatever her name was?”

  Now, it was my turn to think. “The only ones I knew connected to the murdered woman (I wasn’t going to keep repeating her two names anymore) were the ones who were on the trip to Las Vegas. Out of all of us, there was just Hatcher and the other Andrea Williams who were friends with the deceased. There’s no way it could be Andrea because she was in Yellow Rose when I was there. Besides, why would she leave a message like that for me?”

  “What about the others on the trip? Who were they?”

  “Well, there was Ralph and Sally but they were innocent too. We had no idea this was a front for trafficking drugs or laundering money or whatever else they were doing.”

  “How do you know they were innocent?”

  I had to admit that was something to think about. How really did I know? So far, I wasn’t exactly too accurate in any of my judgments of characters.

  “I’m
sure they were. There are some things a person just knows.”

  “Like your knowing Cecile was an undercover cop?”

  “Point taken. I guess I don’t know for sure but don’t you think Cecile would’ve known about the others? I mean, if they were involved in any way? After all, it was his operation. I’m sure Kyle would’ve told us if anyone else was mixed up in this.”

  He nodded, grunted, and stood up.

  “Well,” he said. “I don’t know if this is relevant or not but I guess I’d better pass this information on to Maxymowich. Make sure you don’t erase anything. He’ll probably want to talk to you again, by the way.”

  "I’m sure looking forward to that.” (Like a woman looks forward to pap smears. However, I didn’t say that thought aloud.)

  He grinned. “I thought you would be.”

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  It took about three days to get back into routine. I had my little session with the Captain. It went quite well. He threatened to make me sign a paper saying I wouldn’t leave Parson’s Cove for the next three years. Of course, he was joking, but with him, it’s hard to tell. I did get the point, however. His parting words to me were, “Mind your own business and stay out of the morgue.” With that, he sauntered to the door but before leaving, he said, “You don’t happen to have any muffins in your freezer, do you?”

  “Oh Mabel,” Flori said later when she came over to the shop for coffee. “I do believe that man has a crush on you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. He could be married; not every man wears a wedding band, you know. Besides, I’m old enough to be his mother. The only crush he has is on my muffins.”

  “Oh well, you know what they say about the way to a man’s heart? It’s through his stomach.”

  “Just because that worked with Jake, it doesn’t mean it will work on every man. Anyway, to quickly change the subject before it gets too weird, who do you think could have left that message for me? It doesn’t make any sense, does it?”

  Flori took on her look of wisdom. This comprises of holding her cup in midair, staring off into space and humming a mindless tune for several seconds. Finally, she said, “What I don’t understand is, why didn’t the person leave her name? For Pete’s sake, you’re not a mind reader.”