by Al Rennie
“Okay,” I said. “We’ll check out the location where Vickie’s body was found, and then I can always come back to the spot later during daylight hours if I still need to. Right now though, let’s explore this Surf and Sand. Maybe get you a cute little alligator skull and something warm for you to put on.”
“I’m okay. I have a jacket back at the car,” Mia said.
“Okay, then let me go inside and get an alligator skull and something warm for me to put on. You never know when you might need one of those cute little skull things.”
Ten minutes later, we were back on the street. We took a pass on the alligator skulls, but we were both wearing new sweatshirts, and Mia was carrying her new red thong bikini in a very tiny bag. I looked around wondering if I might spot the black Mercedes again. I didn’t, but I did see a Jolly Trolley moving towards us from the south. I stepped onto the road to flag it down. Incredibly, the driver pulled over. I found two loose one-dollar bills in with my change and paid the two fifty fare.
“Cool night eh?” the driver said as we sat in the seats behind and to the right of him. There was no one else on the trolley.
“Yeah, and getting colder. Thanks for stopping,” I replied.
“No problem,” he replied, “company policy. Help the tourists spend their money. Where are you going?”
“Just getting warmed up and enjoying the sights.”
Mia slipped her hand into mine, leaned close and whispered, “You do know we’re going in the wrong direction? Right Joe?”
“Really?” I responded as if I had not a clue. I do thoroughly confused quite well sometimes.
“Some boy scout you are. Be prepared, my eye. Get a compass is more like it,” Mia muttered angrily. I wondered briefly just how short her fuse was.
“It must have been seeing you in that tiny red bikini. You got me all discombobulated.” I said as if I was still thoroughly lost. Then I smiled. I wasn’t prepared to find out about fuse length on such a lovely night. “Actually, I thought we could go and get my car for the drive to the crime scene. Then if you’re hungry, we can get something to eat. After that, I’ll take you home to your place, and then pick you up tomorrow morning in time to get back to Crabby Bill’s. We meet Langdon at noon right? What about your job?”
“Look at this guy!” the driver said loudly. “That the third time he’s swung along here like that. And there’s a white Escalade doin’ the same thing. I hope the cops nail ‘em soon before they kill someone—or each other—although that might serve them right.”
I looked out the open window to catch sight of the black Mercedes heading north.
“I don’t start tomorrow until two in the afternoon.”
“What?” I said.
“You asked about when I work tomorrow. I start at two,” Mia said.
“Oh, okay, so that works. Are you okay with leaving your car at the IHOP parking lot?” I was still thinking about the black Mercedes and white Caddy Escalade.
Mia nodded and snuggled into my side. “I don’t think anyone will steal it. I wouldn’t be that lucky. I didn’t even know you had a car.”
“I keep it a secret. Sort of like the Batmobile.”
“You’re a bit messed up aren’t you Joe?’
I thanked the trolley driver again when we got off at the library stop. The walk to my rooming house was a quick one. It seemed to have become even cooler. I opened the garage and started the Jag. Mia had to wait for me on the narrow, gravel driveway. There was not enough room inside the garage for her to get into the passenger side of the car. I slowly backed out. When I was clear, Mia pulled down the garage door, hurried back and slid through the door onto the passenger’s side tan leather seat. I had already turned on the heater, but, from experience, I knew that it would take awhile for the vehicle to warm up. I turned on the car’s sound system, and the CD, Moby Music, pounded loudly from the eight speakers. I turned down the volume.
“Nice wheels,” Mia said as she did a quick visual survey and then settled. “Are they yours, or did we just commit a grand theft auto?”
“Mine—all mine,” I said proudly. “It used to belong to my Dad before he died. He left the car to me because he knew how much I liked it, and I think he wanted to piss off my younger brother. So what’s the fastest way to get to where we’re going?”
“Cross the causeway. I’ll give you directions from there. Why did he want to piss off your brother?”
In the dim light of the XJR’s interior, I shot a quick glance over to where Mia was comfortably sitting. She was watching me intently. She really wanted to know. “My brother didn’t visit my mother once from the time she had to go into a nursing home with Alzheimer’s until the day she died. He said he couldn’t stand to see her that way, but my Dad wasn’t buying it. So the old man gave the car to me for a buck about three weeks before he died of prostate cancer. That way, it wouldn’t be part of the estate. My brother doesn’t talk to me too much any more—but we stay in touch from time to time.”
“Families, eh?” Mia muttered quietly.
“I guess,” was all I could say. I was still checking my rear-view mirror for any sign of that black Mercedes or white Escalade. Call me paranoid.
We Visit the Scene of the Crime
