Slip and Go Die (A Parson's Cove Mystery) (13 page)

“Oh well, that’s a relief. For a moment there, I thought you were going to say from the moment I was conceived.”

“You said it, I didn’t.” She glanced down at her glasses but didn’t make a move to pick them up. “Seems to me you might be right though.”

“Is that so? Well, you answer me this one, Miss Hoosegow: why is Beulah dead? Why are you the one who was at her cabin? Who stole all her stuff? Why are you the one who just happened to know someone who wanted to buy it? Why was it such a big secret? Remember all the whispering that you did when you asked if I was ‘in?’ Just answer those questions, if you dare.”

I placed my hands on my hips and stared up into her face.

Esther Flynn stood silent. She glared at me as only Esther can. Her brain was searching for a clever answer. She wanted to use a few three or four syllable words–something that would confuse me, shut me up, and send me home.

I don’t usually care for silent breaks but in this case, it was quite stimulating. It was almost awe-inspiring standing there, watching her squirm. (Even now, when I’m feeling a little blue, I play the scene over and over in my mind.)

She reached down and picked up her glasses from the floor. I got the distinct feeling she was wishing they would miraculously turn into a butcher knife.

“Who’s there, Mother?”

Both of us jumped. Esther grabbed her chest and gasped.

Esther’s daughter, Millicent, must have slipped into the house through the front door. She stood at the entrance connecting the kitchen and living room. No one in Parson’s Cove ever uses the front door so I had naturally knocked on the back. I do open my front door every so often, simply for the fact that if there were a fire, I might need it as my escape route. Other than that, it’s never used.

Millicent was so much like her mother that if she had so much as one decent bone in her body, it would take a scavenger team to find it. I realize that makes me narrow and close-minded. Flori tells me that there’s good in everyone but then, Flori sees many things that I don’t see. She is totally blind when it comes to judging unsavory characters.

Millicent stood staring at me as if she’d seen a ghost. I think the last time I’d been in her house she’d been a cranky, self-centered little brat. That was probably over twenty-five years ago. She had grown up to be as tall as her mother was. The only difference was Esther was skinny but her daughter was skinnier, if that were at all possible. She had the same dark tightly-curled permed hair (which even I knew was way out of style) and wore similar black-rimmed glasses. Her bones stuck out in every direction. Of course, I couldn’t see them now because she was wearing her winter coat. In fact, it was an extremely lovely winter coat. I would say an extremely expensive winter coat. And, on top of all that, an extremely new coat. It was soft, black leather with fur trim. I’d never seen anyone in Parson’s Cove ever wearing such a magnificent coat, not even some of the younger women who lived in the new homes on the outskirts of town. I was as taken aback at seeing the coat as she was at seeing me.

Finally, I found my voice. “That’s a beautiful coat, Millicent. Where, on earth, did you get it? I don’t think I’ve ever seen such an expensive one.” I looked at Esther. “You must have come into a fortune, Esther, to come up with the money for that.”

Everyone knew that Esther and Millicent were dirt poor. After Chester Flynn walked out on them, they had nothing. Esther cleaned houses and business places to make a living. I know a couple of businesses invented work because they felt sorry for the abandoned mother and child. Everyone felt sorry for them but no one liked them.

Millicent worked for Pattie Morgan at the print shop. The only income Pattie made came from advertisements in the
Parson’s Cove Weekly
, a four-page newsletter that she faithfully put out every week, and from private orders for invitations or business cards. Obviously, there was a limited demand for things like that in Parson’s Cove. There was no way on God’s green earth that Millicent could afford a coat like that on her salary.

They both appeared to have lost their hearing.

“I said,” raising my voice, “how did you manage to afford such an expensive coat, Millicent?”

She peered at me with her beady black eyes and sneered, “None of your business, Mabel Wickles. You’re just jealous, that’s all. You and your friend, Flori Flanders, think you’re so much better than us. Always looking down your nose.”

I suppressed a giggle. I was a little over five feet tall, Millicent and her mother were close to six feet tall–I could look down my nose at them?

“You mean I look up my nose at you, don’t you?”

Neither woman was amused.

“You’re jealous because you don’t have anything so nice,” Millicent said, curling her bottom lip. She reminded me of Herman Wheeler’s Rottweiler.

She looked at her mother for support, but instead, Esther gave her a dirty look–a look that definitely said, ‘shut up’.

Esther turned her attention to me.

“See the door, Mabel.” She pointed to the backdoor.

“I’m not blind. Of course, I can see the door.”

She was trying her hardest to stay calm but I could almost see the hatred coming out of her pores. ‘Hatred’ might not be a strong enough word. Perhaps, it was a mixture of hating and loathing.

“Well, then.” The words came out with a hiss. “Go back out of it and don’t ever put your foot back into my house again.”

“Oh, come off it, Esther. Aren’t you over-reacting a little? This is the first time I’ve put my foot in here in over twenty years. It’s not as if I overstay my welcome or anything. Besides, all I did was come to return your beautiful scarf. Other than that, I was just trying to make conversation. How was I supposed to know that your daughter would walk in wearing a coat that cost about as much as my yearly salary? Anyone would be shocked. Everyone knows that you two aren’t exactly rolling in dough.” I turned to Millicent, who was standing in the same spot, but was now stroking the fur collar. “Don’t tell me someone gave you that for a present?” I winked. “Maybe a lover?”

Esther cleared her throat. “You’re disgusting, Mabel. You don’t have to answer any of her questions, Millicent.”

“I don’t intend to.”

With that, the young woman lifted her chin, gave a ‘humph’ and marched up the stairs to the second floor. The beautiful coat floated out behind her. She reminded me of a bat returning to the dark crevasses of her cave.

I gave an exaggerated sigh. “Well, Esther, I know when I’m not welcome, so I’ll go.” Before reaching the door, I turned and said, “However, be warned–I know there’s something’s going on here that ain’t quite kosher. I don’t have proof yet but I’ll get it. You watch me. Somehow, someway, you’re connected to Beulah and her missing stuff.”

Esther sputtered. “Don’t you point your finger at me. If anyone suffers from mythomania, it’s you, Mabel Wickles. For the last time, I did not steal Beulah’s things. In fact, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Where would I put it all? Look around. Do you see any of it?” She stuck her chin out and glared at me. “Well, do you?” She swung her hand in the air, inviting me to survey her whole kitchen.

I followed her gaze.

“Right, Esther. As if you’d have it all piled up in your kitchen. How stupid do you think I am anyway?”

“I think you’re stupid and atrabilious. Do you want to check out the whole house? You’re welcome to, you know. But if you do, I expect you to leave me alone and stop making such asinine accusations. Is that what you want?”

I knew exactly what game Esther was playing.

“Okay. Thanks, Esther. I will have a look round your house. In fact, I think the best place for us to start is the basement. From there, we’ll work our way up to the attic.”

“What?” she screamed. “You will not look all through my house.”

“Why did you offer then?”

“To get rid of you. I’d be crazy to let you go through my house. You’d tell the whole town if you saw one dust bunny. I know you.”

She grabbed the doorknob and held the door open. Her whole body shook with anger. The blast of frigid air that blew in might have been a contributing factor as well.

“You get out of my house and never come back. Do I make myself clear?” Her voice trembled.

There was a sharp-looking steak knife on the counter within her grabbing distance. Perhaps, it would be best to make my exit.

“You’ve made yourself crystal clear.” I marched through the door and stood on the outside step, facing her. Just before the door slammed in my face, I said, “That book you have sitting on the kitchen table looks like one of Beulah’s, Esther. Maybe it’s time you came clean.”

The door slammed, the windows rattled and a pile of snow that has been sitting precariously on the edge of the roof, fell down on top of my head. It’s a good thing that I still had Esther’s ugly scarf wrapped around my neck.

Chapter Sixteen

Charlie Thompson was sitting on a bench in front of the library on Main Street. No one else sticks his head outside the door, let alone sits outside when the thermometer dips this low. Charlie is unique to Parson’s Cove. There are many ideas as to why Charlie is as he is. Some say he wanders about in the middle of the night whenever there’s a full moon because he has a steel plate in his head. They claim it has something to do with the magnetic pull between the plate and the tides, or some such thing. Others say he fell off a horse when he was a kid. Personally, I have no idea what makes him tick but I don’t mind him. He adds a little color to the place. After all, who would want a bunch of robots walking the globe?

“How’s it going, Charlie?”

He glanced up at me. A person is never quite sure if Charlie recognizes you or not. He’d pushed all the snow to one side of the bench so that he had one wooden armrest and one snow armrest. A pile of snow at his feet served as a footstool. He would have looked quite comfortable if his fat cheeks hadn’t been so rosy with a few white blotches and his eyebrows and lashes thick with frost. His teeth were chattering and he was banging his hands together to keep them warm.

Personally, I don’t know how he survives any of the seasons. He wears the same clothes all summer: a red plaid shirt and denim overalls. I would be drenched with sweat but he always appears to be quite comfortable. In the winter, he wears a red woolen cap, a worn woolen turtle neck gray sweater, a brown, down-filled vest with a red plaid shirt over top. The shirt gaps open because the buttons and holes don’t meet. I guess when he’s moving, he can keep fairly warm. By the looks of it, he must have been sitting on that bench for a long time.

I stopped. “It’s almost suppertime, Charlie. Why don’t you go inside someplace and warm up?” I asked.

“Saw you go to Esther’s. Waiting for you.”

“You’ve been waiting for me? Why?”

He stopped pounding and clapping for a second as he looked up and down the street. He put both his mitts up to his mouth like a foghorn. I backed up a step so he wouldn’t yell in my ear. Instead, he whispered, “Got information.”

“You’ve got information? About what, Charlie?”

He turned his head, staring into space and began clapping his hands again. Sometimes, it’s quite disconcerting trying to carry on a conversation with the man.

It took him a long time to answer. I started to move on, thinking that he had forgotten that I was even standing in front of him.

“Bad men.”

I stopped and whipped around.

“What do you mean, bad men?”

Now he looked right at me. That is an accomplishment because Charlie doesn’t look many people in the eye.

“Bad men. Go into your store when you’re not there.”

I stared down at the oddly dressed man who was the town joke. He’d stopped hitting his hands together.

There wasn’t any room on the bench unless I wanted to sit on the pile of snow so I bent down in front of him.

“You saw the men who went into my store? The men who stole all of Beulah’s things?”

He nodded.

My heart started to beat faster.

“Who was it, Charlie? Who broke into my store?”