Steve Demaree - Dekker 09 - Murder on a Blind Date (11 page)

I looked
around the parking lot. Eve Sanchez had disappeared. I saw only a couple of
people in the distance, hurrying to get inside, out of the cold. I bundled up
and stepped out of my van, only to be greeted by a blast of wind. That wind
motivated me as I hustled through the parking lot and into the restaurant. The
warmer air felt good. The cheesecake in the display case off to my left looked
even better. I looked around at the people waiting. There were a couple of
women alone, but I saw no white roses. I took a card out of my pocket to check
the name I was using that night. Then I walked up and gave my fake name and
requested a booth for two. They asked for my cell phone number. I wonder if I
would have been turned away if I had come prior to getting a cell phone. They
told me the wait for a party of two was approximately thirty minutes. I walked
over to take a seat when a woman walked in. I'm a leg man, but her legs didn't look
anything like Eve Sanchez's legs. This woman was at least ten years my senior,
and she was followed in by a man who seemed to be the rest of her party. The
man headed off to put his name on the list.

A couple
of minutes later another woman walked in. This one younger, mid- or late thirties,
nice looking, and wearing a mink coat, but no white rose. Her hair was the
color of honey, and about shoulder length. She smiled and walked over to me.

"Can
you help me with my coat?"

I hadn't
used a different deodorant, and I don't use aftershave anymore, so I wondered
why women were suddenly attracted to me. Could someone have told them I won the
lottery? Or was she a plant sent by George, Frank, or Lou, or even Jennifer to
see how I might act around an attractive woman?

As soon
as I'd helped the woman take off her coat, I realized why she had approached
me. Underneath her mink coat was a white rose.

"She
sat down beside me. I'm Sarah Jane. It sounds funny that we can't tell our last
name, but I'll play by the rules."

The
experience of being approached by two attractive women in so short of a time
unnerved me. I'd forgotten the name I'd used on the application. I contemplated
taking the card out of my pocket again, but figured that wasn't a good idea.
Luckily, Sarah Jane saved me.

"I
assume that you're Al."

"That's
right." I said, feeling greatly relieved that she helped me out of one
predicament. "I think we're allowed to tell what we do. What's your
occupation, Sarah Jane?"

"I'm
a pediatric nurse. At the Baptist hospital. And you?"

"I'm
in public relations. I try to help people in difficult situations overcome
those situations."

"I
bet you have to think fast."

Not
nearly as fast as  I have to think when I'm dating women using a fake name.

"I
do, but sometimes I don't think fast enough."

"You
must be pretty good. You still have a job."

"Have
you been here before?"

"No,
it's my first time. You?"

"I
was here not too long ago with some people I work with. I'm sure you will be
impressed."

"And
I hope you are, too," she said, as she smiled.

I wasn't
sure if we were thinking the same thing. Once again I wondered if I had somehow
used a different deodorant. I wondered if women in
Lexington
are more desperate. I smiled
back, then scanned the place to make sure Jennifer wasn't lurking nearby.

Thirty
minutes passed quickly. We were soon seated and this time I didn't hide behind
my menu.

"I
usually feel uncomfortable eating out for the first time with a man. I don't
think it's right to order the most or least expensive item on the menu. But
since we are each supposed to pay for our own, I'll get what I want."

"Two
entrees, huh?"

She
laughed. A point in her favor. And then I realized I wasn't hoping for a love
connection. I already had one. Most men don't live long if they have more than
one.

"From
what my friends have told me about this place, I'll probably save half of mine
for tomorrow night."

So, she
had friends who had been there. I wondered if any of them had used the Just For
You dating service, and so I asked.

"Do
you know of anyone else who has used this dating service?"

"No,
but it was one of my friends at work who saw something about them and
recommended I try them. She said I had nothing to lose."

Except
your life, provided you aren't the murderer.

But she
couldn't be the murderer. She looked too good. Murderers look like everyone
else, except they smile a little more or a little less.

I looked
at her. She was smiling.

"You
look nervous."

"I
get that way sometimes around an attractive woman."

She
smiled again. I needed to turn off the charm. I didn't want to give her the
wrong impression.

We took a
few minutes to study the menu. After she had ordered Shrimp Scampi and I had
ordered Bang-Bang Chicken and Shrimp, I moved the conversation along.

"So,
what do you like or don't like about your job?"

"Well,
I don't like seeing crying babies, having to give them shots to make them feel
better, but I like it when we are able to get them to where we can send them
home with their parents. I see you cringed when I mentioned shots. Does that
mean you don't like to get a shot?"

"You
mean somebody does?"

"No,
I don't think anybody does. But sometimes people need to get a shot to make
things better. I don't like to brag, but I'm good at what I do."

We
continued to talk until the food arrived. I found out that we had a similar
interest in movies, and we both enjoy reading murder mysteries.

"Sarah
Jane, I think we both can tell that I'm several years older than you. Did you
put anything on your application that stated that you like older men, or did
they just pair us because of our similar interests?"

"I
assume that they put us together because of our similar interests, although I
do prefer older men. A lot of men my age are so immature. I'd like to find
someone, but if I end up raising someone I'd want them to be a child, not some
thirty-plus-year-old man who acts like he's still a teenager. A man can have
fun without being immature. I mean I think it sounds romantic for a man and a
woman to walk barefoot on the beach, or go to a park and swing side by side,
but a man who wants to see how loud he can burp isn't for me."

"Then
I don't guess I should tell you that I won my neighborhood burping contest last
summer."

She
laughed again. A nice laugh, without overdoing it.

We
finished eating, and talked for a while. If it wasn't for Jennifer, I would
definitely have given this woman a green card. It wasn't supposed to be like
this. All the women were supposed to look and act like convicts. I wasn't sure
I wanted to go through with another date the next night, but I knew I would
quit after that. Unless I needed to date more in order to solve the case. Why
couldn't someone confess? Or a cop happen by and catch someone just before he
or she was about to bury the needle?

We sat
there for a couple of hours, talking. I didn't mean to stay so long, but the
time flew by. I looked at my watch and noticed the time.

"I
can't believe we've been here this long. Time seems to have flown by."

She
glanced at her phone, and said, "It hasn't seemed that long to me. I guess
we'd better give up the booth. I bet there are still people waiting."

She
picked up the bag containing her leftovers, including part of a piece of
cheesecake with strawberries.

"There's
no way I could come here a lot. I have to watch my figure."

"Me,
too."

"You
mean men watch their figures, too?"

"Oh,
I thought we were talking about your figure."

"Oh,
oh. Is the real Al starting to come out?"

"No,
I always like to compliment an attractive woman, even if she's seventy-five
years old."

"I
think especially when she's seventy-five. Those are the ones who need to hear
it the most."

"I
disagree. I think the ones who need to hear it the most are the ones who are
just starting to get crow's feet and are traumatized by that first gray hair.
Those who are seventy-five have already come to realize they won't be
twenty-one again, and have accepted themselves as they are."

"You
know, I think you're right."

"Well,
we've been told we aren't supposed to walk out together. Do you want to go
first, or do you want me to?"

"Whichever
you like?"

"Ladies
first."

I waited
five minutes, then walked out and looked in every direction to make sure she
wasn't still around. If she was, I didn't see her. I continued to look around
as I walked to my van. It didn't hit me that this woman was on the suspect list
until I sat down and buckled my seatbelt. But it couldn't be her. Well, the
odds were against it.

No sooner
did I start the van than the first song that came on 60s on 6 was
Did You
Ever Have To Make Up Your Mind?
I already knew the words to this song
.
"
Did you ever have to make up
your mind? Pick up on one and leave the other behind. It's not often easy, and
not often kind. Did you ever have to make up your mind? Did you ever have to
finally decide?
Say yes to one and let the other one ride. There's so
many changes and tears you must hide. Did you ever have to make up your mind?"
As I listened, Jennifer, Sarah Jane, and Eve Sanchez flashed through my
mind. I caught myself singing along with the music. But my mind was made up. I
had made up my mind before I left Hilldale. Jennifer was the one for me. I hit
the button on the radio and changed what I was listening to to 50s on 5.
Instead of The Loving Spoonful I was greeted by The Platters singing
Only
You.
Much better. I envisioned Jennifer pushing all the other women out of
the picture, and that was fine with me. I was a one-woman man. Before I knew it
I had left
Lexington
behind and was making tracks for
Hilldale. One song after another made the trip home seem quicker. In my mind I
swayed with the music, but in reality, on a dark, country road, I kept my hands
on the wheel and my focus on the road.

As I
neared Hilldale, having listened to 50s on 5 and some silly songs and doo-wop all
the way from
Lexington
, my mind focused on the two women
I had dated so far, and the one I would meet the next night. It was obvious
that Bambi and Sarah Jane were nothing alike, so maybe this dating service was
on the up-and-up. After all, the answers I gave on the application that paired
me with Sarah Jane were much different than the ones I gave for Bambi. And then
it hit me. Tomorrow I would be "dating" Lucy. The answers they used
to pair me up with Lucy are the same ones I put down for Bambi. I tried hard to
remember what name I used for Bambi. Chances were Lucy wouldn't remember my
name like Sarah Jane did. Maybe she wouldn't know if I made up a different
name.  

"What
time did you get in last night?"

My mother
had never said those words to me when I was a teenager because I was always
home before my parents went to bed. But Jennifer asked me this question on
Monday morning.

"Oh,
not too late. You know me."

"So,
was this one like the last one?"

"Pretty
much. A little different because I used a different profile, but you know,
similar. I mean it was the same dating service."

"Cy,
I have a feeling this one looked better. What did she look like?"

"You
know. Like a woman who's not married."

"Uh
huh. And how old was she?"

"You
know, I didn't ask. Do you want me to ask her out again, so I can get answers
to all of your questions?"

"No,
that's okay. Just hurry through this dating stage of your life and come back to
me, where you belong."

The growl
Jennifer did at the end made me wonder if she had been there last night and
seen these two attractive women. Or had talked to someone who had concealed
himself or herself better than those clowns the last time.

+++

A few
minutes after I hung up from talking to Jennifer I called Lou. I shared with
him about Detective Gruber, but failed to share any information about Eve
Sanchez or anything about Sarah Jane. I did tell him that the Lexington Police
Department gave me permission to see what I could find out about the murders
and asked Lou if he was ready to tag along on Tuesday. I told him we might stay
somewhere overnight, because we might not get a confession in one day. He was
still disappointed about not getting to see Thelma Lou, so I told him if we had
time we could drop by The Cheesecake Factory before we left Lexington to come
back home. He realized that it wouldn't do him any good to hang around
Hilldale, so he agreed to go along. I told him that I would pick him up around
8:30
. He said he would be ready.

+++

I didn't
plan to do much on Monday, since I had another drive to
Lexington
and back, so I leaned back in my
recliner and closed my eyes. It took only a few seconds for me to realize that
wasn't going to work. Visions of Eve Sanchez, Sarah Jane, and my Jennifer battled
for my undivided attention, and when those were joined by four other competing Jennifers
(Aniston, Garner, Lopez, and Lawrence), I gave up and opened my eyes. I needed to
listen again to The Platters singing
Only You.

+++

I was
getting used to the drive to
Lexington
and back, but I hoped I didn't have to make it many more times. I arrived at
Fayette Mall just as The Platters were singing
Twilight Time.
This time
I parked as close to The Cheesecake Factory as I could and arrived a few
minutes early. I walked inside and spotted a mousy-looking woman wearing a
white rose. She looked up and saw my white carnation and seemed to be a little
afraid. I was sure that I was her first date through the dating service, and
maybe her first date since she was in school. She jumped as her phone rang, telling
her that our table was ready. She must have been there a while, working up the
courage to go through with it.

I
motioned for her to walk ahead of me. I already knew she was Lucy and as she
walked ahead I removed a card from my pocket to remember who I was, and what I
liked to do. I was Edgar Norman again. I'm glad I didn't plan any more dates.
Tomorrow I would go back to being Cy Dekker, Detective Extraordinaire. On the
way to the table I decided to let her lead the conversation and just agree with
whatever she said. I soon learned she was a librarian and had never been
married. She spent most of her evenings reading books she checked out of the
library and didn't date a lot. I refrained from asking her the year of her last
date. She asked me if I cared what she ordered, even though she was paying for
it herself, and asked again if it was okay to order dessert. I assured her that
if a dessert was in the name of the restaurant then ordering one was a
requirement. She smiled briefly. At least I think it was a smile.

Things
seemed palatable until I looked down to see someone's feet planted beside our
table, and it wasn't our server.

"So,
Edgar, what's she got that I ain't got? And I bought some new Ed Wood movies
and was going to have you out to the trailer park. Guess you'll have to get
your own movies now."

I didn't
have to look up. I recognized Bambi Fontaine's voice. I studied her hands to
make sure one of them didn't have a needle in it, then responded.

I
mumbled, "I'll tell you later," and she stormed off. Before she
turned away I glanced at her and saw she wasn't wearing a white rose, so I
figured she wasn't there to meet Man Number Three.

Once she
was gone, I turned to Lucy and said, "That was the first one the dating
service fixed me up with."

The brilliant
conversationalist muttered, "oh," then returned to her food.

I was
relieved when dessert was over and she offered to let me leave first. I was
sure that her offer didn't have anything to do with another man coming to take
my place. 

As far as
I was concerned my dating experience through the service in
Lexington
was over. I knew that if I didn't
send those two cards back that I wouldn't receive the names of any more women. It
was time to switch techniques and find out as quickly as possible who was
murdering these people. I spent most of the trip home going over my list of
suspects. Could one of the women I dated be the one who is roaming the country
murdering single men and women? It didn't make sense for the owners of the
dating service to be responsible. That was how they made their living. So was
it someone who had used the service that I hadn't met yet, or someone close to
one of them?