Read Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery Online

Authors: Elaine Flinn

Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery (11 page)

BOOK: Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery
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Molly handed Del her bill. “Well, in that case, I don’t blame you. I, uh, imagine things can get a bit—”
“Yes. They do. But I have strict rules as well.” Del checked her watch, then turned in her chair and scanned the shop. “I should have come in earlier so I could browse.” Her hand flew to her mouth and she let out a laugh. “Oh, my God! Is that Bitsy Morgan?”
Molly’s head jerked between Del and Bitsy. “You know Bitsy?”
Del roared. “Know her? Honey, I used to work for her!”
For the second time that morning, Molly’s jaw dropped. She knew Bitsy, who had been a childhood friend of her mother, had lived in Reno some years ago, but that was when she’d been married. She watched nervously as Del headed down the main aisle.
“Bitsy Morgan! You little scamp! What the hell are you doing in Carmel?”
Molly’s eyes were riveted on Bitsy. She wasn’t sure what to expect. She saw Bitsy turn away from the customer. She was relieved to see the smile on her face as Del grew nearer. But her mind raced as she wondered about the connection.
“Del? Is that you? Oh, my Lord!” Bitsy threw out her arms. Both women embraced. The man interested in the ship stepped back and smiled. After a moment, he moved around the two women as they chatted and approached Molly. “It’s nice to see old friends run into each other. Thank you for letting me browse. I’ll think about the ship when I get home. It’s large, and I’ll have to find room. If you’ll give me one of your cards, I’ll get back to you.”
Molly was about to hand him a card, when he picked up Del’s off the desk. “Oh, I can take this one.”
Molly wasn’t quick enough to stop him. She blurted, “No. I mean, that’s not mine.”
Molly saw his lips tighten as he read the fine print under L.A.P.D. “I should certainly hope not.” He set the card back on the desk and gave Molly a long look. “What interesting friends you have.”
Before Molly could explain, he turned and left the shop. She sat back in the chair and blew out a breath. “Great!” she mumbled, “just what I needed to round out the day. I can only imagine what that man must be thinking.” When Molly saw Bitsy and Del seated on two chairs by the fireplace chatting away like well-heeled grand-mothers bragging about the latest addition to their families, she couldn’t help but laugh. Life, it seemed, was not meant to be dull for her. She picked up the phone and called Randall.
He answered by saying, “Don’t bother me. I’m busy. I’ve got a town to watch.”
“Where is my pickup, and when can I have it back?” she asked.
“If you’re smart, which I know you’re not, you won’t want it back. It should be junked. That skunk smell will never leave it.”
“Max more or less said the same thing. He’s buying me new wheels. But I have to do something with it, don’t I? I mean, send it somewhere to be junked? Oh, were you able to find any prints, or whatever you do?”
“I changed my mind about dusting it. No point in it. If it were kids, they wouldn’t be on file anyway. What’s he gonna get you?”
“I haven’t a clue. He wants side airbags and a GPS system.”
“A GPS?” Randall laughed. “Afraid you’ll get lost in Carmel?”
“No, smart ass, he said it would be easier for you to find me next time I get in trouble.”
“There ain’t gonna be a next time. I’ll call him. You should have a Chevy Tahoe. You can haul all that stuff you buy for pennies from unsuspecting people.”
“I could hang up on you, you know.”
“Go ahead, but first let me tell you there are some crazy rumors running around town about you and Todd Jessop.”
“Thanks, but I’ve heard them. Bitsy filled me in.”
“Then you know about the one where you threatened to kill him?”
“Oh, my God! Where did you hear that?”
“I was having coffee this morning at the Village Corner. One of our local mystery writers who hangs out there told me. She thought it was a hoot and said she ought to do a book about you.”
“Swell. Like I need more press? How am I going to face people now?”
“With a smile,” Randall said.
“Can you meet me at Tosca’s in a few minutes? Bitsy is here. I’ll ask her to watch the shop for me. You’ve got to help me sort this out.”
“I’m on my way.”
Bitsy and Del were still gabbing a mile a minute when Molly approached them. Bitsy was delighted to take over for Molly. “We’re having such a grand reunion that Del has decided to stay over. You go right ahead. Take your time.”
Grand reunion?
Molly almost winced. If she didn’t have her own reputation to worry about at the moment, she’d be hard-pressed not to sit in on the gab fest. It blew her mind to think of Bitsy Morgan as a bordello madam. How else, she wondered, could Del Tinsley have worked for her? Somehow she doubted it was selling antiques.
Chapter 10
 
MOLLY RUSHED to the storage room and ran a brush through her hair. She found an empty small café table next to the three-tiered fountain in the center of the courtyard. She figured the sound of splashing water would make it hard for the nearby table to hear her conversation with Randall. Tosca’s was a self-serve operation, but its owner, Bennie Infama, was always on the move clearing tables and chatting with the regulars. Bennie spotted Molly right away. “Hey, gorgeous, you taking a break? What can I get you?”
Molly fiddled with the Zippo. “I’m waiting for Randall. Maybe just coffee? Mind if I smoke? The tables next to me are empty.”
Bennie smiled. “Sure, go ahead. I can relate. It ain’t a good day for you, huh?”
Randall arrived just then, and said, “It ain’t a good day for either of us.”
Bennie Infama, short, wiry, and never without his Giants baseball cap, just shy of thirty and the proud owner of Tosca’s, took a step back. As well as he’d come to know Randall, he was still intimidated by his presence. His smile was weak when he said, “Uh, yeah, I’ve heard the rumors. Take a seat, Chief. Double espresso on your mind, maybe?”
Randall pulled out a chair across from Molly. “Maybe a full pot might work.”
Molly’s shoulders slumped. “Now what?”
“A lesson in village dynamics. The rumor mill is on fire, and I think you’d better call Carla Jessop and clear the air because I’m not going to put up with this shit.”
“Look, I appreciate your concern. I’ll call Carla, but I’m just going to ignore—”
“It’s not just you now. I got a call from the mayor before I left. I’m on the hot seat now for telling Todd Jessop he might not see daylight. Which is being interpreted that I’m gunning for him.”
Molly’s hands flew to her mouth. “Omigod. I remember. Last Saturday night in the shop when those two women walked in on us. But that’s just a figure of speech.”
Randall’s laugh wasn’t very merry. “So is ‘my fellow Americans.’ When did you ever believe a politician felt like he was one of us?”
“But still? I mean, how can anyone take these rumors seriously?”
Before Randall could answer, Bennie arrived with a tray. “Two double espressos and apricot tarts. I figured you’d need some sugar since this looks like a meeting of the minds.”
“Sit down, Bennie,” Randall said. “What else is being said?”
Bennie shook his head as he set out the cups. “About what?”
Randall just looked at him.
Bennie pulled out a chair and flopped down. “Okay, probably what you’ve already heard. You and Molly want a piece of a guy named Tim Jester.”
Molly couldn’t help laugh. “You’d think they could get the name straight!”
“Naturally,” Bennie added, “I said it was baloney. I mean, hell, Randall, you’re the chief of police, for crying out loud! And Molly sells antiques. Besides, who the hell is Tim Jester? He’s not local. I’d know him.”
Randall sipped his espresso, then grinned at Molly. “Maybe we’ll beat this rap.”
“This is insane, damn it!” Molly said. “I can’t go to that party for Carla’s father now. And neither can you.”
“What party?” Bennie asked.
“Domenico Mattucci’s birthday party this Sunday.”
Bennie almost fell out of his chair. “Whoa! Mattucci? You know him?”
“Slightly,” Molly said. “I know his daughter, Carla. I’m helping her redecorate the tasting room at Bello Lago.”
“Whew,” Bennie said.
Molly threw up her hands. “Please don’t give me a running history of the family, okay?” She shot a look at Randall. “I’ve heard it all. I know they’re big wheels, I know I came close to losing the job and I’m sick to death about what I did!” She tapped her neck. “And I’m up to here in advice, so spare me.”
Bennie said, “Then you know about—”
“Bennie!”
“What, Bennie?” Randall probed. “I’m all ears. It’s gossip day in Carmel-by-the-Sea anyway.” He picked up his cup, then halted. “Unless you were going to tell me that Mattucci’s father was connected. I already know about that.”
Molly almost choked on her pastry. “Connected? As in...in—”
“Yeah,” Randall said.
“But only slightly,” Bennie said.
“There ain’t no slightly, Bennie. Not with that crowd.”
“I’m going back to the shop,” Molly said. “I’m going to scoot Bitsy and...and her friend out, put up the ‘closed’ sign, and then go take a nap.”
“It’s kind of early for a nap,” Bennie said.
“Time waits for no migraine,” Molly said. She rose, reached for her tote, then remembered she hadn’t brought it. “I seem to be without funds.” She looked at Randall. “Your treat.”
 
Molly’s head was pounding when she returned to the shop. Bitsy and Del were still by the fireplace, only now two more women had pulled up chairs to join them. Molly headed their way. When the new arrivals turned in her direction, Molly was stunned by their beauty. Del rose. “You’re just in time to meet my associates before they head back to the City.”
The first one to offer her hand was a tiny brunette with flowing hair down her back. She was dressed in a luscious ivory silk pantsuit. The to-die-for yellow jade earrings she wore made Molly want to lick her lips. “I’m P.J. Coldren,” she said. “Del has told us so much about you. It’s so great that we had a chance to meet the woman who is finding us such perfect chairs.”
Molly smiled and shook her hand. “I‘m, uh, thrilled you like them.”
The second woman, another stunner, was taller than Molly. Her wavy, thick auburn hair hung down past her waist. Molly wondered if long hair was a prerequisite for the job. Lavender was obviously her color and she was dressed in a silk pantsuit as well. Molly noted the expensive cut and wondered just how lucrative being an
associate
was. “Good to meet you, Molly. I’m Alma Faye. Keep finding us chairs, huh? A little cushier would be great, too.” She laughed. “On the arms, I mean.”
“I’ll do my best,” Molly said as she took a few steps back. “Great meeting all of you, but I, ah, well, I’m closing early, so if...”
Bitsy rose, shook out the wrinkles in her skirt, then gave Molly a wink. “Good idea, you look tired. The ladies and I are going over to the Pine Inn for drinks. Del and I have years to catch up on.”
As the women moved past her, Molly said, “I’ll put a note for your movers on the door, Del. I’ll be able to hear them from the storage room when they knock.”
Bitsy said, “They’ve been and gone. Oh, I sold two lamps while you were out. The tags are on the desk.” Bitsy winked at Alma. “This lovely lady helped make the sale. The man was so taken with her, I damned near had to push him out the door.”
Molly’s smile was weak. “Oh, great. Thanks.”
“It was fun. The customer said he was with IBM and if I ever decided on a career change I should look him up.” Alma’s eyes took in the shop. “Nice place, Molly. I might even think about an antiques shop.”
Molly wanted to say, Great, just stay out of Carmel, but said, “I’m sure you’d do fine in any sales profession. You, uh, didn’t give him your card, did you?”
“Of course I did,” Alma said.
Molly was ready to explode. It was a good thing Bitsy saw the look in Molly’s eye. She quickly hustled everyone out. “We’ve really got to run, Molly. I’ll call you later, okay?”
The minute they left, Molly locked the door and put out the CLOSED sign. She stormed into the storage room, kicked off her shoes, and lit a cigarette. “If this shit keeps up, I’ll never be able to quit.” she shouted. She moved Tiger off the armchair and sank onto the tattered upholstery. A stiff drink would be perfect, but after the apricot tart, she didn’t need more sugar. She was already battling ten extra pounds. Just looking at Del’s
associates
was enough to make her realize how much she’d let herself get out of shape. All her plans to resume the beach walks were already distant memories. Those women had to be size three and spend all day at the gym. She knew damn well their profession wasn’t very energetic. What really bugged her was, they didn’t look or act like, well, exotic dancers. They were absolutely gorgeous! It wasn’t fair.
BOOK: Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery
7.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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