Advance Notice (13 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

“It’s about time, girlie. I thought my time
would run out, sitting here waiting for you.” Dottie sped backward, thrust the
giant car into drive,
then
roared down the highway.
“We should take a road trip. Like Thelma and Louise. Remember that movie?”

I stared at her with nothing less than
astonishment. “Didn’t they kill some guy and then drive off into the Grand
Canyon?”

“Well, we don’t have to go to those
extremes, but two wild women like us could have quite the adventure.”

“I’m having a big enough adventure right
now, thank you.” One I didn’t care to repeat or have drag on much longer. Most
people who had the threat of less than twenty-four hours to live wouldn’t be
quite as joyful as my companion. I’d be holed up somewhere, praying harder than
ever before.

“Once we get you settled in my apartment,
we’ll head over to Wanda’s.
Early Bird starts at four and
Bingo at six.
We don’t want to be late for either one.”

All I had was an overnight bag, so
settling in would take all of five minutes. Oh, and I’d borrowed my mom’s Bingo
bag of assorted colored
dobbers
. My favorite was the
fluorescent pink heart. Hopefully, it would bring me good luck.

With much maneuvering and backing up to
start over, Dottie finally managed to park her pink behemoth into her
designated parking space. Since she didn’t have medical needs or need a nurse
on a regular basis, she rented one of the independent living apartments.

“I love this place,” she said, opening
her door. “There’s always something going on. Not to mention there’s a couple
of foxy men living here.” She winked before closing her door.

I shook my head, reached over the seat to
grab my bag,
then
joined her on the sidewalk. “I’m
glad you’re active.”

“How else do you think I keep my girlish
figure?” She sashayed toward the staircase. “One of my secrets is to never take
the elevator if I don’t have to. Another is weekly ballroom dance lessons. Too
bad I don’t have one tonight. Visitors get a free lesson. You could practice
for your wedding.”

“Yeah, too bad.” I followed her up three
flights of stairs, breathing like an overweight basset hound, while Dottie
acted as if she did nothing more than stroll down the sidewalk. A fancy
well-choreographed dance at the wedding might be fun, and the lessons might
help get me in better shape.

After an eternity of stairs, Dottie
stopped in front of her apartment and opened the door, ushering me into a dream
room…for a little girl of six. Everything was pink! Pink carpet, pink
slipcovers,
pink
, pink, pink. It looked like a bottle
of Pepto-Bismol exploded. Already, I felt hives coming on. “Wow, this is…very
feminine.”

“Men like a girly woman, Marsha. Remember
that. If you always look and act like a girl, Duane will never stray.”

I’d prefer to act like a woman, but I got
the message, and thankfully, I was pretty sure Duane would never allow me to go
all pink. I dropped my bag near the sofa. “Okay, let’s go. Wanda’s is waiting.”

“It’s too early. Have a seat, and I’ll
fix you a glass of lemonade.” She bustled away around a wall to where I presume
a small kitchen sat.

I perched on the edge of the sofa and
tried to let my gaze fall on something that didn’t make me want to throw up. A
small framed print over a flat screen television drew my attention. Although
the sand in the beach scene had a pinkish tint, at least the waves and palm
trees broke up the monochromatic color scheme.

“Here you go.” Dottie handed me a glass
of pink lemonade. “You should take a look around the place. Each room is a
different color scheme.”

I sipped the too sweet drink. “How many
rooms are there?”

“Three, not counting the kitchen. I
carried the pink theme through there, with accents of white and dashes of mint
green.
Very lovely.
Take a look later. The bathroom is
canary yellow and my bedroom is lime green.” She beamed. “I’ve thought of doing
interior decorating as a part-time job, but my other activities keep me way too
busy.”

So that explains her all pumpkin-colored
outfit. No one had ever told Dottie that clothes, and furnishings, needed to go
together, not match exactly. “Very clever.”

“I’ve been told that many times.” She
glanced at the clock. “Time to go.” After snatching my unfinished drink from my
hand, she rushed back to the kitchen,
then
dashed for
the front door. “There’ll be a line forming at the diner, and we mustn’t be too
far back.”

Gracious. I was exhausted already, and I
hadn’t been with her for a full hour yet.

“Don’t forget your Bingo markers!” She
stampeded down the stairs, leaving me to close the door.

Fifteen minutes later, we stood outside
Wanda’s Diner, a half-hour early for the Early Bird. If anyone over the age of
fifty-five walked up, Dottie made sure to tell them we were in line for the Special.
My face flamed, and I gave so many sheepish grins, my cheeks hurt and my jaw
popped.

“You didn’t lock my front door, did you?”
Dottie peered at me.

“No. It wasn’t locked when we arrived, so
I figured you preferred it that way.”

“Usually I lock it, but with Nina’s and
Mae’s houses exploding when they
unlocked
their doors, I’m not taking any chances.”

This time, I couldn’t fault her
reasoning. At four o’clock exactly, Dottie pushed open Wanda’s front doors and
waltzed up to the hostess station. “The Early Bird Special, please.”

The young lady behind the oak podium
styled structure frowned at me. “She isn’t old enough for the special, but I’ll
seat you anyway.”

Well, pooh. I would’ve enjoyed a little
discount after the crazy ‘Alice in Wonderland’ type of day I was having.
“That’s okay. I’ll pay full price.”

Dottie patted my arm. “That’s sweet of
you to offer to pay. How generous.”

I sighed and followed the hostess.

We repeated the whole hurry up and wait
process when we moved to the bingo hall across town. Were all of the elderly
this paranoid? I thought for a minute of the older folks I knew. Nope. Just
Dottie.

A long line stretched from the Knights of
Columbus building. Already my feet and back ached from standing at Wanda’s and
my thighs cried out for mercy from climbing the stairs. Maybe I should join a
gym. Then, I could buy one of those skinny wedding dresses.

“Clara!” Dottie grabbed my elbow and
dragged me to the front of the line. “There you are.”

“Who’s Clara?” I yanked free.

“Just play along.” Dottie grinned and
squeezed in behind a stout man. She jumped up and down on her tip toes, hooting
and hollering to rival any carnival caller. “Oh, pooh, she can’t hear me. Wait
over there, Marsha, and I’ll be right back.” Still talking several decibels too
loud, she shoved me out of the line, causing me to stumble because of my cast.
Surely no one believed her ruse. They must all be used to her.

I was beginning to see why my mother
avoided her if at all possible. I pulled my text phone out of my pocket and texted
Duane. “This woman is nuts.”

“Where are you?”

“Bingo.”

“Win.”

I smiled, and texted back, “I’ll try.
Love you.”

“Ditto.”

Feeling warm and fuzzy, I slipped the
phone back in my pocket and noticed Dottie waving and glaring at me from the
cashier’s table. “Sorry,” I said, rushing to her side. “Got a phone call.”

“We almost lost our spot in line.” She
explained the complicated procedures of serious Bingo. Nobody bought only one
set of sheets. Instead, they bought three, plus any of the specialty games. Everyone
had several types of snacks and a soda or sweet tea in front of them. By the
time we finished, I’d spent thirty dollars.
Not exactly cheap
entertainment.

Dottie led me to a table close to a
raised platform and slid into a chair before a poor woman with a cane could
take the seat. I shook my head and mouthed my apologies. The other woman patted
my hand and shrugged. Obviously, they were all use to Dottie’s shenanigans.

“Everyone knows this is my seat.” She
raised her nose in the air. “Yet, every week someone tries to take it.”

“It doesn’t have your name on it.” I
pulled out the chair next to her.

“It’s the same as church, Marsha. If you
sit in a pew more than once, it becomes yours. That’s in the Bible.” She set
out ten different
dobbers
and a stuffed chicken. “For
good luck.”

Not wanting to argue with her about what
was or was not in the Bible, I set out my
dobbers
in
imitation and reached into my purse for a little plastic frog I carried with
me. “Fully Rely On God,” I told her with a grin. “Get it? Frog. F.R.O.G.”

“I got it. I’m not ignorant.”

And the first number was called. B-12.

As the night wore on, and each game
neared the end, the rumbling of the crowd grew louder. I couldn’t help but be
drawn into the excitement. By the time the last game, a blackout, started, I’d
won nothing, had a pounding headache, and my stomach ached from all the snacks.
I marked the called spots half-heartedly, until the caller said O-69. “Bingo!”
I leaped to my feet, shaking my paper. “Bingo. I got a Bingo.” Oh, my, goodness,
I’d just won twelve hundred dollars.

“Beginner’s luck.” Dottie racked her
belongings into her bag. “Biggest pot ever and a newcomer wins. It
an’t
fair.”

“It’s because of my frog.” I grinned and
waited while a woman verified my numbers, and then a man in a yellow striped
vest brought me my check.

“Hurry up.” Dottie pushed past me. “Let’s
go. I’m tired and ready for bed.”

My smile didn’t fade through the
congratulations of the other players, nor did it falter as I followed a poor
loser to her big pink car. I had money for a humdinger of a wedding dress.
Tomorrow, I’d look at the calendar and see if I could come up with a date.
Maybe spring time. Then, we could have an outdoor wedding out by the lake.

“Stop grinning like a fool and get in the
car.” Dottie slammed her door.

“What happened to Thelma and Louise?”

“Shut up.” She put the car in reverse,
then drive and squealed tires out of the parking lot. “I’m dropping you off at
the apartment while I run to the corner store for some cereal. That okay with
you for breakfast?”

I glanced at my watch. She’d never be
home by midnight. “Can’t I go with you?”

“Nope.
Gotta
get some personal stuff, too.”

“Okay.” I’d just wait in the parking lot
until she returned. No way would I head upstairs and wait for an explosion. “Don’t
be gone long. We’re supposed to stay together.”

“Don’t suffocate me. I’ve lost older
friends for less reasons.”

My, she didn’t take losing well. I
shrugged and stared out the window. We stopped at the entrance to the
retirement home and waited while Danny shuffled his way past. The young man’s
shoulders were in their usual slump. He never looked toward us, seemingly lost
in his own world. Poor thing.
A mother like Darla, and now
the loss of his girlfriend and child.
My heart ached for him.

“Get out right here. No sense in me
pulling in then back out.”

I did as instructed and hobbled my aching
self toward the second stairwell. Thirty minutes later, I still sat there, my
elbows folded on my knees, my head resting on my arms. Where did Dottie get her
energy? After midnight and the woman still roamed the town.

Sirens wailed, and an ambulance and the
town’s one squad car sped past.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Having called Duane to pick me up and drive out
to where the ambulance and police car sat, we then followed the ambulance to
the hospital. Dottie hadn’t returned to her apartment because she’d wrapped her
pink Caddy around a tree.

Duane and I now sat in the waiting room
of St. Mary’s Hospital, the smell of antiseptic and sickness permeated the
rooms. Soft beeping and the sound of padded shoes filled the air. Somewhere out
of sight, a woman wept.

“An eye witness said Dottie swerved and
crashed at approximately twelve fifteen,” Duane said. “She was headed back to
the apartment.”

“The killer got to her despite me staying
with her.” Acid churned in my stomach.

“We don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. My gut tells me I’m right.” I
stared at the tile under my feet. A chipped corner broke up the black and white
pattern. The hospital could use a dose of Dottie’s flamboyant colors.

Duane grabbed my hand. “She isn’t dead,
Mars-Bars.” He gave me a sad smile, knowing how much I disliked that nickname,
but also knowing I’d welcome it at a time like this one. “The killer, if that’s
the case, may not have succeeded here. Bruce said he’d be here as soon as he
could to fill us in on what they found at the scene.”

I nodded, praying Dottie would survive
the attack against her. Murderers veered from their MOs all the time. It
definitely wasn’t unheard of.

Hard footsteps echoed across the floor.
Bruce stopped in front of us, tapping his notebook against his palm. “Y’all
step outside with me. I won’t discuss the investigation in here.”

Duane helped me to my feet. We followed
Bruce to the Emergency room exit. He continued tapping the notebook, as if he
were trying to decide how much to tell us. “Okay. Best we can figure is that
Dottie’s brake line was cut when she stopped at the liquor store.”

“Liquor store?” That little old woman was
full of surprises.

“At first, we thought maybe it was a case
of drunk driving, but the garage mechanic said the line was definitely cut.” He
narrowed his eyes at me. “If you breathe one word of this to anyone, I will
throw you in jail. We can’t let the suspects think we know more than them.”

“Ah-ha! So you do have a suspect.”

Bruce sighed. “Getting close, but I’m not
going to divulge that information. As much as it pains me to admit, you’re
smart. Think long and hard. You’ll figure it out.” He spun on his heel and
marched to where he’d parked his squad car.

“What do you think he has?” I stepped
against Duane, using his body heat to ward off the autumn chill. “An anonymous
phone call? A fingerprint?”

He steered me back inside. “Let’s just
worry about Dottie right now, okay?”

“You’re right.” I took a seat in the same
chair as before and stared through the large window at the dark parking lot.
What if I’d been in the car with her? Would the killer still have cut the brake
line since my name wasn’t mentioned in the obit, or would I have been
collateral damage? Good thing I was sitting down because my legs would’ve
failed me. Lindsey had no idea how close she had come to being an orphan.

Due to the late hour, my eyelids drooped.
I rested my head on Duane’s shoulder and he rested his head against mine. I
woke to the doctor shaking me.

“Mrs. Steele?” He grinned as I popped up,
banging my head on Duane’s cheekbone. “None of that, now. We don’t need to be
stitching either of you up.”

I leaped to my feet. “How’s Dottie?”

“She’ll be fine.
A
concussion, some minor lacerations.
She’s a tough old bird. She also
listed you as responsible party since she has no living relatives. She’ll be
released by noon tomorrow and will need a ride.” He handed me a clipboard with
a page needing my signature.

Sweet old thing,
thinking of me as family.
I scrawled my name, more than ready to go home
and fall into my bed. I’d also need to head to work in a few hours. I’d left
Mom to mind the store alone for long enough. Wait. No, today was Sunday and the
store was closed. Wonderful. I could sleep until Monday.

Less than a half-hour later, I lay in my
bed covered with a thick quilt. I stared wide-eyed through the dark room toward
the ceiling. Was it possible to be too tired to sleep? My mind ran like a
marathon sprinter, while my body tried to become one with the mattress.

“Marsha!” I woke by being shook up like a
milkshake. My eyes popped open and I blinked like a new puppy at Mom’s face.

“What?” I tossed off the blanket and sat
up fast enough to make my head spin.

“Look.” She threw the newspaper at me. “The
killer isn’t following standard operating procedure.”

“You watch too many cop shows.” I scanned
the sheet. My heart stopped. “Why would your name be here?” She didn’t live
alone. She was married with a family. “Someone thinks we know who they are.
They’re playing with us. Letting us know the game is coming to an end.”

Mom planted her fists on her hips. “Right
after we talk to Bruce, I want you to march over to that newspaper and ask
Frank, who we just saw at the funeral, why he would allow this to be printed.”

Fear ran through my veins like ice water.
“We need to have a family meeting.” Since I still wore the clothes from
yesterday, all I needed to do was slip my
uncasted
foot into one of my fuzzy bunny house shoes. I shuffled down the hall to wake
up Lindsey. From that moment forward, no one was to be alone. Not even to use
the bathroom. Someone could wait outside the door.

“Family meeting. Mom’s name is in the
obits. Hurry up.” I tossed aside Lindsey’s blankets. She was out of bed in a
split second.

“Let’s go find us a killer.” She grabbed
a pair of sweat pants and pulled them on over the boy boxers she slept in.
“It’s personal now.”

Great. As if Mom wasn’t enough to worry
about.

I hurried after my daughter as fast as my
broken foot would allow. By the time we barged into the kitchen, Mom had coffee
perking and Duane and Leroy were sitting, stony faced, at the table. Not two
men I’d want to mess with.

“Has anyone called Bruce?” I sat across
from my honey.

“No. He’s done nothing helpful yet.”
Duane’s brow dipped lower.

Whoa. Bruce just lost his strongest ally.
“I still think he should know about this.”

“I’ll call him.” Mom set five mugs on the
table and started pouring. “I want to see his face when he realizes that his
late mother’s best friend is about to die.” Her hand shook, spilling some
coffee onto the table.

Leroy placed his hand over hers. “I won’t
let that happen, darling.”

“You might not be able to prevent it.”

“Oh, I’ll prevent it, all right. No one
goes after my woman without a fight.”

“We’re losing focus here.” Duane leaned
forward and folded his hands on the table. “This is a direct invitation to find
this person. They’ve stepped out of the norm to target
Gertie
.”

“What do you suggest we do?” My stomach
rebelled at the thought of coffee or anything else put inside it. Instead, I
swirled the dark liquid and let my mind try to process through the information
I knew, in hopes of pinpointing a murderer. Very difficult to do, when everyone
expressed
their
outrage and opinion all at the same
time.

The noise level reached dangerous levels
when a piercing blow on a whistle put an end to it all. Bruce marched into the
kitchen. “I heard y’all from the driveway.”

Mom slapped him in the chest with the
rolled up paper. “You can arrest me for assault after you read that.”

“Why would I arrest you?” Bruce smoothed
out the paper.

“Because, I’m going to punch you in the
mouth for not finding this person by now.” Mom stomped her foot. “Your poor
mother must be rolling over in her grave.”

“Leave my mother out of this.” He scanned
the page, his eyes widening. “Heaven have mercy.” He took a shaky breath and
fixed his gaze on Mom. “You’ll be fine,
Gertie
.” He
squared his shoulders. “I’ll make sure you have around the clock protection, if
I have to do it myself.”

“Well, that’s sweet of you, but I’ve got
Leroy. Marsha was staying with Dottie and that didn’t help her none.”

He glared at me. “Why haven’t you figured
this out yet?”

“Me?” What in the world? “You’re the cop.
Why don’t we have any detectives assigned to help us out? Or the FBI?”

His shoulders sagged. “Because I didn’t
pass on the need.”

Duane leaped to his feet like a bullet.
“You had better not mean what I think you mean, you little twerp.”

“I thought I could handle this.” Bruce
held up his hands to ward Duane off. “At first, I thought it was all just a
prank. Then, when I realized it was something serious, it was too late.”

“When did you figure that out?” I asked.

“When Dottie’s brake line was cut.”

Duane doubled up his fist,
then
obviously had second thoughts about striking a man in a
police officer’s uniform. “I don’t know what to say.” He moved back to his
seat.

“Well, let’s go over what we know.” Bruce
rubbed his hands together.

“Wait.” Lindsey dashed to the drawer
where I kept my clue-taking clipboard. “I’ll write it all down.”

“Somebody is filling out fake obits
online. Nobody at the paper is verifying the information because they’re
short-staffed. I checked with Frank. See, I did do some detecting.” He grinned,
then
frowned when Duane growled.

“The victims were all elderly women who
lived alone. Also, we got back blood work from Little Rock.” He eyed each of
us. “I shouldn’t be telling y’all this, but I desperately need your help. And,
yes, I’ll be contacting the feds. The blood work from each of the victims showed
high doses of methamphetamine.”

“Which, must have been slipped to them,”
I added. “None of the women were drug abusers, although Dottie enjoyed her
wine.”

“I think it best that all of you stay
under one roof,” Bruce suggested. “Duane, you too. The more people around, the
less likely the killer will strike.”

“Unless he blows all of us up in one big
pow
.” Lindsey lifted her head from where she’d been taking
notes. “At this point, whoever the bad guy is won’t really care how many people
he takes out. Grandma has a gas stove. Easy
peasy
…Boom!”

I cringed at her choice of words. The
fact that she had a very good point caused my stomach to roil harder. “Leroy,
turn off the pilot light to the gas.”

“Already on it.”

A glance at the clock showed I had thirty
minutes to pick up Dottie. Fatigue weighted my limbs. My eyelids felt like
sandpaper. Hopefully, I could pick her up, drop her off, and get home for a
nap. After all, we had thirty days before danger struck. But, I didn’t think
I’d sleep well for any of it.

I pushed to my feet. “I’ve got to go pick
up Dottie.” Duane started to stand. “No, stay here and look after Mom and
Lindsey, please. I’ll be back within the hour.” I bent over, gave him a kiss
and headed back to the cottage to change my shoes and run a brush through my
hair.

The drive to the hospital took longer
than usual, most likely because my tiredness had me driving five miles under
the speed limit. The parking lot was full when I pulled in, and the hands on my
watch were pushing against twelve o’clock when I stepped up to the patient pick-up
desk.

A man stood in front of me, arguing about
release papers. My mind wandered, going over the notes Lindsey had written on
her paper. Elderly. Alone. Drugs.

Oh, my. I knew who the killer was.