Slip and Go Die (A Parson's Cove Mystery) (10 page)

Flori was still standing with her hands on her ample hips. There was a scowl on her face.

“Besides, that’s the dumbest excuse you’ve ever come up with in all the years I’ve known you. You drank too much gin because you were trying to warm your bones? You have no reason to be cold, Mabel. Are you going to tell me that the furnace in your house has quit working, too?”

I had to do some quick thinking on my feet now, which is not as easy as it sounds when your head feels like it’s full of mush and as heavy as a loaded pumpkin. First of all, I didn’t want Flori to think that I was turning into the town drunk. We already had one of those. The thought of Reg Smee putting me into a cell with Amos Grimm, to sleep one off, was enough in itself to convert me into a teetotaler. What alternative did I have? None. I had to come clean.

“No, Flori,” I said, adding a sigh. “My furnace is working fine. There was a reason why my bones were cold. A good reason. I had a very harrowing experience, my dear. My life was in extreme danger. There was no way of even knowing if I’d be alive this morning to spend time having coffee with my best friend, the best friend in the entire world.”

For some reason this didn’t quite have the impact for which I’d been hoping.

Instead of gasping and crushing me to her chest as I thought she would, she simply sighed, walked over to the coffee pot and poured a cup.

“I didn’t fall off the turnip truck yesterday, Mabel.”

“Oh, I know. You’ve never fallen off the turnip truck. But, believe me, this is all true. I could easily have been killed. How was I to know that the woman would leave and not even so much as look down the basement steps?” I paused for a moment and then increased my volume and speed. “I had no way of knowing if someone was waiting for me upstairs in the kitchen, maybe holding a knife or a loaded gun. As soon as my head appeared above the floor it could have been blown to smithereens.” At this point, I reached a high crescendo.

This caught Flori’s attention. She stared at me. Her mouth dropped open and her cup of coffee stayed suspended in midair.

“What on earth are you talking about? You don’t even go into your basement anymore. In fact, you told me once that it was a hell-hole and you hated it.” She carefully placed her cup on the counter before sitting down in the wicker chair. “Were you so drunk that you were hallucinating?”

“No, I wasn’t hallucinating. And, to set the record straight, I wasn’t drunk either. I admit I had a bit of gin right before I went to sleep. I rarely do that but when I do, I realize that I’m going to have a headache the next morning.”

“So, was it worth it?”

Why does Flori always insist on being so logical?

“Yes, it was. I was so cold and it was two o’clock in the morning. I knew that if I didn’t have something, I’d never get any sleep. And, Flori, I may have a slight headache but I did get a good night’s sleep.”

“Ha!”

“What do you mean, ‘ha’?”

“No one with a guilty conscience really gets a good night’s sleep, my little friend.”

“My conscience is clear. And, I’m your friend but I’m not your ‘little’ friend. Would you want me to call you my ‘big’ friend? ”

She knows it bugs me when she calls me that. It isn’t my fault that I never grew more than five foot two.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. It’s just that I worry about you. You live all alone. It could become a temptation to have a little drink every night, you know. Then, soon you might want more and more. If it did happen, I would never forsake you. I would completely understand and help you all I could, Mabel.”

I smiled. “I know, but you really don’t have to worry about me. Besides, how can I be alone with all those cats underfoot?”

She grinned. “Cats don’t count. By the way, why were you going to bed so late?”

I waited until she took a swallow before I answered.

“I told you my life was in danger.”

She looked up from her cup. “You’re joking, right? Why would your life be in danger? You just finished telling me that you live all alone with your cats. Did they decide to attack you when you came up from the basement?”

Flori is usually serious but when she thinks she’s told a joke she reacts with as much enthusiasm as if Lucille Ball herself were telling it. Now she laughed until she started hiccoughing. I sat and watched.

“Well? Are you finished?” I handed her a tissue. “Here. Blow your nose.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that it was so funny. Imagine seven cats waiting to pounce on you as soon as you came up from the basement.” She giggled, took a quick peek at the look on my face and sniffed. “I’ll be serious now, Mabel. Tell me, why was your life in danger?”

She put the tissue up to her mouth but I could tell she was ready to erupt again.

“My life was in danger because I was not down in my basement. I went back into Krueger’s house.”

She looked up at me, her eyes widened and her mouth gaped simultaneously, but in slow motion.

“What?”

“You heard me. I went back into the house. When I was in the basement checking everything out, a woman came in. I had to stay down in that dark cold basement waiting for her to leave. I’ll tell you, Flori, I didn’t know if she’d find me down there or what. She could have had a gun for all I knew. She was talking to someone on her cell phone. The furnace went on and then I couldn’t hear what she said.” I beamed at her and whispered, “I think there have been lovers meeting there.”

Flori sat there, staring at me, with a blank look on her face.

“Well, now you know why I was cold, why I went to bed so late and why I had to have a little spot of gin.”

Flori was slowly returning to life. Her cheeks got back their color, plus a little extra, and her eyes got back their icy glare. Plus, a little extra ice.

I had a sinking feeling that I was in big trouble.

Chapter Twelve

This was the first time I’d ever seen Flori rush out the door without finishing her coffee. I’d never seen her so upset. We were, are, and will always be, best friends so I knew something like this could never disband that. You can’t simply sweep over fifty years off the slate of life. She would come round after she’d cooled off and when she did, she’d realize I’d been right all along. Until she did, however, I’d have to work on my own.

There was something fishy going on in Parson’s Cove. Trust me, it didn’t have anything to do with Jake and his drinking buddies, who were sitting out on the ice pretending to fish.

Flori had been my only customer all morning. Since she never buys anything, plus, she left in a huff, I didn’t count her at all. A brisk wind started up towards noon so I knew the rest of my day would also be dead. As the wind chill rose, the streets emptied. After having a ham sandwich, a homemade cookie and a cup of tea, I decided I should start putting prices on some of Beulah’s items. Thus far, I’d only sold one small glass candy dish. Amy Goodfellow agreed to pay three dollars for it after we’d bickered for twenty minutes. I was now three dollars closer to paying for my furnace. On the other hand, Beulah was three dollars closer to paying for her casket. Whichever way you looked at it, it wasn’t too encouraging.

I decided that since everyone in Parson’s Cove enjoys getting a bargain, I would inflate the prices a wee bit. That way, I might reach my goal sooner. The job was immense. By five, I’d cleared off one of my shelves, stored all my old stock in boxes and replaced it with Beulah’s things. I tried to find the items that might be the most appealing to my neighbors. Why someone her age would pack her house full of all these bits and pieces was incomprehensible. It just didn’t suit her personality. On the other hand, if this was what it took to pay for a new furnace, who was I to complain?

Or, was Beulah in the process of clearing out some of this collection? Maybe her funds were running low. I’m sure she didn’t get much of a pension from teaching all those years. Was that why Esther had gone out to her place? Is that why she knew of someone who might want to buy all of Beulah’s possessions? I had to have another go at Esther. The only way to do that was to set a trap. I took her scarf and hat that I’d hidden behind my counter and placed them in the front window. Of course, before doing that, I put a price tag on each one: three dollars for the hat (it was a little on the worn side) and five for the scarf. I knew that would bring her running!

It was five-thirty by the time I locked the front door. It has never made sense to me that my father always locked the front door but kept the back one unlocked. Somehow, it seemed a family tradition though so I did the same. The few times that I have locked both, I always feel my father scowling at me all the way home. I decided it wasn’t worth all that discomfort so I leave it open. No one in town would steal anything. If they did, they’d have to keep it hidden all the rest of their days. What fun is there in that? Of course, strangers don’t know the back door is open so there’s nothing to worry about there.

Although the temperature had risen, the wind made it bitterly cold. I wrapped my scarf around my face until only my eyes were showing. Even then, by the time I finally reached home, my face was tingling and my legs felt like blocks of ice. I decided that if the wind didn’t die down, I’d stay home the next day. No one would be venturing out anyway and I really didn’t feel like working on Beulah’s junk all day with no one to talk to. Flori, I knew, would still be upset so it would be best if she stayed home for a couple of days. If Jake was stuck in the house, however, she might be calling me sooner. After all, whiskey can only keep a man warm for so long. Besides, I would think that in this wind, their little shacks might blow away.

I spent a quiet evening with my cats. It’s hard to say if they appreciated it. Most of them assumed that if I was home and being nice to them that food was involved. As a result, they spent most of the time traipsing back and forth from my chair to the food dish, mewing and purring. Finally, I gave up trying to communicate and just filled up all their dishes.

At eleven, which is way past my bedtime, I shut off all the lights and looked out my kitchen window. Darkness enveloped the Krueger house. It was cloudy so the only light outside came from the lamp post in front of my house and the one in front of Krueger’s. It wasn’t much; mostly, all I could see were ghostly shadows. I could make out the tree branches moving back and forth though, so I knew the wind hadn’t let up.

I stood and watched for almost fifteen minutes. Just as I was about to turn away, I thought I saw something move. Was it just my imagination? It was only for a moment but I was sure it was a person. I wished the clouds were not covering over the moon. Now all I could see was dull black on dark black. I waited. No one turned on any lights. Could I have been wrong? Another fifteen minutes went by before it appeared again. This time I was sure of what I’d seen–someone was walking out the backdoor of Krueger’s house.

There was no way I could see who it was. It could have been the same woman who’d been there before. Or, was it her lover? Did he come, wait for her, and then leave?

I stayed for a few minutes longer but my back was starting to ache so I decided to go to bed. Sometimes I wake up in the night and come down to the kitchen for a drink of water. If that happened, I could check out the house again.

It took a long time to fall asleep. When I finally did, I dreamed about Flori. She refused to talk to me. When I woke up there were tears streaming down my cheeks. Maybe it was time for me to make the first move. After all, I’m the one who always says you can’t throw away over fifty years of friendship.

Chapter Thirteen

“Oh, Mabel, I was going to call you. All morning, I was trying to think of what to say when I phoned. I’m so sorry. I was being so utterly selfish.” Flori stopped to catch her breath and blow her nose. She sounded like she’d been crying all morning.

“No, it was my fault. You always want the best for me. I know that, Flori. It’s just that I’m so stubborn and always want my own way.”

“That’s because you were an only child. I should take that into account. You really can’t help the way you are.”

“But I should have learned a few things from you. You’re always so kind and patient with me. Why can’t I be more like you? What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you, sweetie. You’re a wonderful caring person. You can’t mind your own business, that’s all.”

Flori made a little choking sound and hiccoughed.