Slip and Go Die (A Parson's Cove Mystery) (21 page)

BOOK: Slip and Go Die (A Parson's Cove Mystery)
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“Mabel, open up!”

 

Reg Smee. He knocked on the window again. I put the opener back and pulled the chair out from the door. He came in along with a gust of cold air that soon turned into a cloud of fog.

 

“What on earth are you doing here at this time of night?” he asked, slamming the door shut behind him and stamping his feet, all at the same time. All the items I’d placed on the shelf closest to the door bounced and rolled.

 

“Well,” I said, “look around. It’s pretty obvious what I’ve been doing. I’m not going to let a bunch of hooligans stop me from paying for my furnace.”

 

Reg looked around at all the full shelves and nodded.

 

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re not sitting here waiting for Beulah’s things to be returned.” He looked very serious. “I’m afraid I’ve got some more bad news.”

 

“You mean Charlie?”

 

“You heard already?”

 

I nodded. “Yeah. Flori called.”

 

He smiled. “Should have guessed. You didn’t happen to see anything while you were working here, did you? Maybe Charlie walking past?”

 

I shook my head. What else could I do? I was already endangering Flori’s life just by having Reg in my store. It was bad enough that somehow, without my knowing it, I’d put Charlie’s life in danger. Or, perhaps, it was already too late for him. I felt the tears swelling up again.

 

“Are you going to be all right, Mabel? Your face is awfully red.”

 

I grabbed a tissue and wiped my eyes.

 

“Never realized how much dust there was on all this stuff. Guess it’s my allergies making my eyes run.”

 

Reg smiled. “Allergies be darned, Mabel. There’s nothing wrong with shedding a tear now and then, you know.”

 

“I know that. But you know, Reg, I don’t get teary-eyed over just anyone. Charlie’s so defenseless. That guy wouldn’t hurt a flea. How could that idiot even think of hurting him?”

 

“What idiot?”

 

“Oh, well, I mean, whoever it is that’s taken him away.”

 

He looked confused. “We don’t know anyone who’s taken him away. Why would anyone hurt Charlie or take him away? You said yourself that he wouldn’t hurt a flea.”

 

Oh boy, when I put my foot in my mouth, I put the whole thing in. Now I had to wriggle out of this one.

 

“Well, you know, with all this theft thing happening, I’m thinking that there are bad guys in town. I know I shouldn’t do it, but I seem to always think the worst first.”

 

He laughed. “That you do, Mabel.” He reached over and patted my shoulder. “I know this has been hard on you. Don’t be worrying about that furnace. Somehow, we’ll make sure it gets paid for.”

 

“Thanks, Reg.” I have to admit the man can sometimes be agreeable. “So what do you think has happened to Charlie?”

 

“Personally, I think Charlie has wandered off somewhere. Jim and Scully are out scouting around. I hope he doesn’t freeze. He doesn’t have much sense when it comes to getting in out of the cold, does he?”

 

I shook my head. Poor Charlie.

 

“Maybe you should try checking some of those fishing shacks, Reg.”

 

“Aw, I don’t think he’d be stupid enough to go into one of those. Besides, he’s afraid of the lake. He doesn’t go near it in summer so I don’t think he’d go there now.”

 

“He might not, but what if someone took him there?”

 

Reg stopped and stared at me. His hand was already on the doorknob.

 

“You know something that I don’t?”

 

“Oh, no. Of course, not. It’s only a suggestion. That’s all.”

 

“Hmmm.” He pulled his cap down further over his ears. “I take your suggestions very seriously.”

 

It’s a good thing that Sheriff Smee does.

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty Eight

 

Flori phoned the next morning about eight. I’d been home for all of ten minutes but I wasn’t about to tell her that. I may have dozed off and on all night but I couldn’t recall ever shutting my eyes. On the walk home, I’d almost wished that the snow plough would drive right over me to put me out of my misery. The idea of returning to the store and forcing myself to smile at customers all day was too much for me to handle. I was going to play sick.

 

“Did you hear the news, Mabel?”

 

“No. Did Reg find Charlie?”

 

“Yes, and guess what?”

 

“You sound quite cheery. Does that mean he’s alive?”

 

“Of course, it does. But, he might not be, if it hadn’t been for you. Reg told Jake that you suggested that they go out and check the lake.”

 

“You mean he really was there?”

 

“Yes, but almost frozen. It seems as though he locked himself into one of those little fishing shacks. Jake said he couldn’t figure out how the guy did it. Well, you know how he is; he probably did it without even knowing what he was doing. He’s in the hospital right now. I think he might have some frostbite on his fingers and toes.”

 

“Did he tell Reg how he got there?”

 

“Oh, Mabel, the poor fellow hasn’t got a clue where he is half the time.”

 

“But did he say why he was there?”

 

“I don’t think so. Jake said he wasn’t saying anything at all. Poor fellow. I wonder if they checked to see if his tongue was frozen.”

 

“Your tongue can’t freeze, Flori.”

 

“Well, it’s just a thought. There must be some reason why he isn’t talking.”

 

“Yes, I’m sure there is.”

 

“Should I drop in at the shop for coffee this morning, Mabel?”

 

“I’m not going to the store.”

 

“Not going to the store?”

 

“No, I think I’m going to go to bed.”

 

“Why are you going to bed? Are you sick?”

 

“Oh, I think I feel some kind of bug coming on.”

 

“That’s because you’ve let yourself get run down, staying up late and putting all that stock out on the shelves. Reg told us all about that. I’ll come over and look after you.”

 

“No, you won’t. I’m going to bed, Flori. What do you want to do? Sit and watch me sleep?”

 

“Well, if you think you’ll be okay.” She sounded disappointed.

 

“I will. But, thanks for wanting to look after me.”

 

“Make sure you call if you need me. Promise?”

 

“Promise. And, Flori?”

 

“What?”

 

“Promise me that you’ll phone if you hear anything more about Charlie, okay?”

 

“Okay. But, Mabel, doesn’t it make you feel good that because of you, Charlie Thompson is still alive?”

 

No, I thought, because of me, Charlie Thompson almost died.

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty Nine

 

I stayed in the house all day with the blinds closed and the doors locked. Flori phoned five times. If she thinks I’m sick and sleeping upstairs in my bed, how is phoning going to help? After the third one, I took my blanket and pillow to the couch. Each time I had to convince her that I was too sick to go to the shop but not sick enough for her to come over. I slept on and off between calls.

 

Reg phoned twice. Both times he questioned me about Charlie and why I’d thought he might be out on the lake. I knew he was suspicious but I didn’t dare tell him anything about my night time visitor to the shop.

 

I would’ve let the answering machine pick up the calls but just the thought of seeing that red light blinking, made me feel a little sick. At least, if I got another call from that creepy jerk, I could hang up on him. I did not want to listen to another message from him.

 

About supper time, Flori phoned to tell me Charlie was getting better. “He won’t even lose any of his fingers or toes,” she said. “I’m sure he’s learned his lesson. I doubt he’ll ever go out on that lake at night now.”

 

“I sincerely hope not,” I said.

 

At nine, she phoned to say goodnight and ask if I needed anything. I told her that all I needed was a man and a bottle of good whiskey.

 

“Oh, Mabel,” she screeched. “You’re so funny.” On that happy note, she hung up and I trudged up the stairs, followed by three cats. I made one stop before I reached the bedroom.

 

The gin worked its wonders by putting me to sleep, but at three, my eyes popped open and I was wide awake. Probably sleeping most of the day away hadn’t helped either. There was not much point in staring at the ceiling, which I couldn’t really see anyway, so I made my way downstairs in the dark. Sometimes if I have a glass of water, I can get back to sleep. If that didn’t work I could always turn on the lights and make something to eat.

 

I didn’t open my eyes until I stood at the kitchen sink and had the glass to my lips. For some reason, unbeknownst to me, I always like to peek out between my kitchen window blinds. Not that there’s usually anything to see. After all, it’s either pitch black or the moon shines down and I get to look at my backyard. I guess I will always remember the one time when there was something: someone was removing a body from that old house behind mine. Not that I ever expected to see anything like that again, but I always like to check–just in case. If it did ever happen again, I’d know enough to shut the blinds and go back to bed. Sometimes, ‘not getting involved’ is a good policy.

 

I leaned over and spread the blinds apart ever so slightly with my fingers. The sky had been overcast all day. There was no moonlight. My backyard and the neighbor’s yard were dark.

 

Dark that is, except for some kind of light bobbing up and down. I put my glass down and leaned farther over for a better look. Someone was going into Krueger’s house. At the door, the individual stopped and shone the light towards the backyard and my house. I quickly let the blinds go shut. I waited. After a few seconds, I peeked out again. The person was inside now. I could see the light flickering in the kitchen area. I waited.

 

A few seconds later, the kitchen light went on. It was only for a moment and then the blind went down. Now the house stood in darkness again.

 

I had to find out which lovers were meeting in that house. Not that I would run immediately to tell the innocent mate. Although, I might give him or her some strong hints. After all, they deserved to know, didn’t they?

 

If there were some way that I could cause a distraction, something that would make the person come outside. But, who in their right mind would run out into the night when it was minus twenty-eight with a wind chill? Maybe if the house were on fire.

 

I stood for a couple of minutes and looked at the house. All was dark. I was about to turn away when another movement caught my eye. This was getting more interesting by the minute. Someone else was coming around the corner! Ah, the lover? Whoever it was went straight to the door and walked in. It could have been a woman but I wasn’t sure. They shut the door too quickly.

 

How long had all this activity been going on? Here I had been innocently sleeping all my nights away. What was happening right outside my backdoor? Were two lovers meeting or was it something far more sinister? Could there be a terrorists’ cell almost right under my nose? Had the woman on the phone known that I was hiding in the basement so she pretended to be meeting her boyfriend? It could be. Terrorists are very cagey.

 

What was I to do? If I set the house on fire, I would undoubtedly be sent to jail. Besides, there was the slim chance that whoever was in there could have a legitimate reason for being there. After all, the terrorist theory was just that–a theory. And, if they were lovers, Reg might get all sentimental on me and still arrest me. Of course, there was also the slim chance that the flames would blow over to my house and I wouldn’t want that. No, setting the house on fire wasn’t an option.

 

It seemed that my hands were tied. The only thing that I could do was wait. I opened the blinds ever so slightly and peered out again.

 

More action.

 

Even in the dark, I could make out the shapes. There appeared to be three people involved. They were all crowded on the back step. One was a woman. She was wearing a long flowing coat. Or, it was a man wearing a long flowing coat, but I doubted it. If only I could see their faces. One man walked away, around the corner of the house, and out of sight. Now it was the man and woman on the step. It looked as though they were only talking, but when I saw the man push the woman off the step, I knew it was more than that. She flew over backwards and landed in the snow. The man jumped off the step and disappeared around the side of the house. Obviously, joining the other man.

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