The Bogey Man Read online

  Bags? Every time my mother said bags, plural, I worried. She should have only needed one bag for this visit, in my opinion.

  “I’ll go get them for you,” Chris offered. “Let me have your car key.”

  While Chris brought in a couple of suitcases, my mother and I cleared the table and threw the trash out.

  “Who is this that we’re going to see?” Mother asked.

  I explained to her what had been happening, and about the odd odor that had been detected. “And so now I want to go talk to Jolly and find out what’s going on. He didn’t deny that he was the one who tried to break in.”

  “I see.” She looked very serious. “And what are you going to do?”

  “Good question. I’m not sure. I’ll play it by ear and see what happens. Let’s get moving.”

  Chris returned to the kitchen and heard me tell her about my talk with Jolly. “Don’t you think we should call Pete before we drive to his studio?” he asked.

  “I’ll call him on his cell phone on the way.” I wasn’t going to waste any time. Pete could meet us there.

  It was late, and it was dark outside. Looking up, I saw that there was only a sliver of moon. It had turned cold, too. There was just a whisper of a breeze, but it was enough to make the leaves in the trees rustle.

  “Nice night for a murder, isn’t it?” my mother said.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  “Mother, what did you say that for? Why would you say it’s a nice night for a murder?” There was a definite whine in my voice.

  She shrugged and grinned. “I was just trying to set the mood. After all, we are trying to find a killer, and we’re going to interview a potential suspect.”

  She thought she was being funny, but knowing that didn’t help me calm down. I was nervous because Jolly hadn’t denied anything. I almost wished he’d said he hadn’t tried to break in. A little denial can go a long way. Actually, I could have used a lot of denial at that point.

  We walked down the street toward Chris’s car. We weren’t even trying to be subtle about him watching my house anymore.

  Mother called “shotgun,” meaning she wanted the front seat passenger side, and climbed in Chris’s Chevy before I could stop her. I quietly climbed into the back seat. Maybe the Bogey Man and my little mother would put on a show for me. I didn’t have long to wait for the first act.

  “Listen, Doll, settle back and get ready for the ride of your life.” Chris grinned at my mother.

  “Oh, yes, Mr. Bogey. You can be the gunsel and I’ll be your gun moll.”

  “I always wanted to be a gangster with my own gun moll, but I didn’t expect her to be five feet short and about the size of a peanut.” Chris looked straight ahead while he spoke.

  “Trust me,” my mother said in what she tried to pass off as a deep voice, “you don’t have to be big to be bad. I can handle anything you throw at me, buster.”

  “I’ll bet you can. A dame like you probably hangs out in smoky bars, right?”

  “Nah, there’re too many sob sisters sittin’ in those places. I’ll hang my hat someplace else. Besides, the hat check girls get on my nerves.”

  My mother was really getting into this, even if it was corny. I stifled a laugh, not wanting to miss anything.

  “Listen, Pigeon, what’s the dope on your ol’ man? Did he break his ankle?” Chris was enjoying himself and tried to keep the conversation going.

  “Nah, just a sprain. He’ll make it. In his racket all he needs to do is climb into a boat and hold a fishing rod.”

  “What’s his racket?” Chris asked.

  “Retirement.” Sweet and simple.

  “Sounds like he’s got life aced.”

  “I hate to interrupt,” I said, “but turn right at the next corner.”

  “You got it, Sister.” Chris moved into the right lane.

  My mother glanced over her shoulder. “I’ve always wanted to go gunning for someone.”

  “Mother, we’re not going gunning, as you put it, for anyone. I just want to get some straight answers from Jolly. He admitted to trying to break into my house last night, so I’m figuring he must have been the one who left that picture taped to my door, too.”

  “Are we gonna play it close to the vest?” Chris asked.

  I sighed. “No, we already know he tried to break in. Why would we try to keep things tight and secretive?”

  “Just asked.” He sounded hurt, like he thought I should have joined in their little forties word game.

  So okay, I could do that. “We’re just gonna get the dope on this guy. I have questions, and I don’t want that bird crackin’ foxy.”

  This time my mother’s head whipped around. “What’s crackin’ foxy?”

  Chris answered for me. “It means she doesn’t want him to try to be foxy or sneaky with his answers.”

  “I think we’ve got him dead to rights. If he tried to break in, then he probably left the picture on the door. And if he’s playing it this way, I have to guess that he killed Purity. Why else would he be doing these things? I think I pushed too hard, trying to get copies of the party photos, and I came too close to him. It even looks like he set things up to look like his studio was burglarized.”

  Chris looked at my mother. “She thinks he’s trying to strong arm her ‘cause she’s got it figured that he bumped Purity Patton off.” He glanced over his shoulder. “That right, Angel?”

  “That’s right, Stud Muffin.” I couldn’t think of a good name for Chris. Stud Muffin worked, and it made him straighten his shoulders and sit taller.

  “Stud Muffin? How about Slugger, or Lefty, or something like that?” my mother asked.

  “Mother, you’re really into this gumshoe talk. I had no idea.”

  “Sandi, don’t you know why you like those old mystery movies so much?”

  “I never thought about it,” I replied.

  “Well, you used to sit and watch them with me when you were a little girl. I watched them, and you got caught up in them, too.”

  I was amazed. She was right. “I’d forgotten we always sat together and watched those films. I guess I have you to thank for the direction my life took.”

  Mother looked smug before she turned back to face the street.

  “How far down is this joint?” Chris asked.

  I looked at the street numbers as we drove by. “About two blocks.”

  “You think they’ll be able to pinch this guy?” my mother asked.

  “If there’s any proof, then yes, I think they’ll probably throw him in the cooler.” I sighed loudly, and my mother and Chris glanced at each other and sighed in unison.

  “Sandi, you need to break that habit. It’s not an attractive trait, dear.”

  “I know, but sometimes I just can’t help myself. Sometimes people just drive me to it.” I almost sighed again, but caught myself in time.

  I continued to watch the street numbers go by, and before long I saw the right address. Jolly didn’t have a big sign out. Guess he didn’t need one since he was so well-known in the glitzy circles. I wasn’t even sure why he had a studio. I was under the impression he didn’t do anything but high profile photo shoots. Felicity’s costume party had been for fun, not profit.

  “There it is, Chris. Pull over.”

  He followed my instructions, but we had to park a few places away from Jolly’s studio. We left the car and walked to the building in a cluster.

  “The building is dark. It looks like Jolly didn’t wait for me.” Something didn’t feel right. Walking up to the window, I could see a faint light on in the back. “Maybe he’s here after all.”

  “He thought you were coming alone, didn’t he?” My mother was now peering through the window, too. “Maybe he’s waiting in the back room with a gat.”

  “Mother, I doubt very much if he’s standing there with a gun aimed in my direction.” I can be such a dope sometimes. She could very well be right. I ducked down so that the portraits in the window hid me. Mother followed suit
, as did Chris.

  I inched my way over to the door and peeked inside. I couldn’t see Jolly. Quietly, I pushed on the door. It was unlocked. I opened it slowly with one hand while motioning with the other for my mother and Chris to follow me.

  “Jolly?” I called out, although not too loudly. I could see the light was in another room, all the way in the back.

  Nothing.

  “Jolly, are you here?”

  Maybe he’d seen I wasn’t alone and he was going to dodge me.

  I stepped inside, trying to be quiet. Mother and Chris were hiding right behind me.

  “I thought you two were supposed to be protecting me,” I whispered.

  “That was the general idea.” Chris, following my lead, was also whispering. He cautiously stepped around me. “Do you smell something funny?”

  “I do.” Mother stepped around me on the other side. “It smells like chemicals.”

  Quietly, shoulder to shoulder and inch by inch, we worked our way back toward the light. The studio was long and narrow, not square. There were easels set up with photographic portraits of some very famous actors resting on them. The desk where Jolly’s niece, Tiffany, sat was on my right. As we reached the halfway mark between the front door and the back room, I could see a low wattage lamp sitting on a table.

  “Jolly?” I spoke softly.

  Still nothing.

  “I really don’t have a good feeling about this. Something isn’t right.” I reached over and took hold of my mother’s hand. She jumped.

  “You’re right,” she said. “And that smell is getting stronger. It smells like formaldehyde. Isn’t that part of what they use to develop film?”

  “I think so,” Chris said. “Now listen to me. Always play your hunch. You think something’s wrong, then there’s probably something wrong. You two wait here while I take a look.”

  He meant well, but he’d been concentrating on the doorway and the smell, and completely missed seeing the display in front of him. He tripped and fell flat on his face.

  I helped him up. “You okay?” I asked.

  “I’m fine. Some gunsel I am.” His hat had fallen off and he’d landed on it. He picked it up and tried to reshape it.

  I turned to my mother. She was gone. I spun in a circle. No Mom.

  “Mother?” I called softly.

  No answer. Where could she have gone?

  “Okay, it seems obvious to me that Jolly isn’t here.” I spoke to Chris in my normal speaking voice. Whispering didn’t seem necessary anymore. “But where did my mother go? She was here just a second ago. Mother? Where are you?” I yelled.

  Ask and ye shall receive. My mother came flying out of the back room and whizzed past me, running out the front door.

  Instinct kicked in and Chris and I followed her.

  She stood just outside the door, shaking. “I had to say it. I just had to say it. It’s my fault. Remember? ‘Nice night for a murder, isn’t it?’ That’s what I said, and now I can’t take it back.” She was talking fast and not making a lot of sense.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”

  She pointed toward the studio. “There’s a dead guy in there.”

  Chapter Thirty

  “You saw a dead guy? Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Well, there was blood, he didn’t appear to be breathing and yet his eyes were open,” Mother said. “Yeah, I’d say he was dead.”

  “Chris, you come with me. And Mom, you stay here.” I began to reenter the studio, but stopped and turned back to my mother. “On second thought, you come with us.”

  “I’ll come inside, but I’m not going back by the dead guy again.” Mother’s voice was shaky.

  “See? You should have stayed in Bullhead City.” Why did my mother have to be the one to find a body? And why did I, the daughter, feel like I was scolding her, the mother.

  “And miss all this? Not on your life! Wait until I tell all my friends in the book club about this adventure. I found an honest-to-goodness dead body.” She paused, obviously realizing what she’d said.

  “Livvie,” Chris said, “this isn’t an adventure. You just told us, there’s a dead guy in there.”

  “And it’s probably Jolly,” I added. “That shoots my theory about him being the killer into oblivion.”

  My mother started mumbling to herself. “Oh. He’s dead. What am I thinking? Yeah. A dead body. Maybe I’m in shock.”

  I started back through the door with my mother and Chris following. Someone grabbed my arm and I jumped.

  It was Chris. “I think I’d better lead this expedition. Livvie, you wait out here. Sandi, you come with me.”

  I was surprised. The Bogey Man was taking charge. I probably would have let him, but he had no experience with dead bodies. Unfortunately, I did.

  “Chris, let me go first. I’ve been involved with crime scenes before. I know what I’m doing.”

  “You do?”

  My heart started racing. My mother and Chris were standing with me, and the question had come from behind me. I turned, slowly.

  “Pete! You just scared me half to death.”

  “Good,” he said. “What’s going on? Did I hear you mention a dead body?”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I was on my way to talk to Jolly. We had an appointment. Now what about a dead body?”

  “My mother found one in the back room.” I pointed toward the faint light.

  “Your mother found… Oh, hi, Livvie. Glad you could make it over from Bullhead City.” Pete smiled at her. “Where did you find this body?”

  “Good evening, Pete. Like Sandi told you, in the back room. He’s dead as a doornail. Trust me.”

  “My, aren’t we all being a little too polite under the circumstances?” I started walking toward the back room.

  Pete hurried past me, and Chris brought up the rear.

  We entered the back room and looked around, finding Jolly lying on his back to the left of the doorway.

  Mother was right. He had blood on his chest, his eyes were open, and he didn’t appear to be breathing. There was blood on the floor around him. It wasn’t a pretty picture and I understood why my mother decided to wait in the studio.

  “Oh, crap,” Chris said quietly.

  I finally understood what we’d smelled. It appeared Jolly had been getting ready to develop some film. The developer he would have used had been spilled on the floor.

  “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that Jolly didn’t tape the picture with the Big Red X on my front door,” I said.

  “Ya think?” Pete replied.

  “No matter what he said on the phone, I’m not even sure he’s the one who tried to break in.” If Jolly was the bad guy, then who would have killed him?

  After checking for a pulse, Pete shook his head. “He’s gone. Sandi, go out into the studio and call Rick. Use your cell phone. And tell your mother not to touch anything.”

  I turned and headed for the front of the store. My mother, curious, was picking up framed photos and objects from the tables and desk.

  “Stop it,” I said.

  She looked up, a guilty expression on her face. “I was just interested in what he does here.”

  “This is a murder scene. Don’t touch anything else.”

  She began to wipe her prints off of a frame with a tissue she pulled out of her pocket.

  “Don’t do that. You’re wiping off everyone’s prints, Mother, not just yours.”

  “I should have thought of that.” She set the frame down and backed away, putting the tissue back in her pocket.

  I called L.A.P.D. and asked for Rick Mason. Within minutes of speaking to him, I heard sirens blaring, constantly moving closer.

  Two patrol cars screeched to a stop outside the studio. Apparently Rick had filled them in, because they didn’t come in with their guns drawn, which I was afraid they would.

  “Gentlemen, follow me,” my mother said, leading the
way to the rear of the studio.

  What had happened to her fear of the dead body? I stayed back and let her have her moment in the sun.

  Rick drove up about a minute later. He walked in, saw me, and shook his head.

  “Sandi, I’ve joked with you about this in the past, but it’s no joke anymore. Every time you’re around, a dead body shows up. It’s beginning to wear a little thin.”

  “Think about it, Rick. I don’t create the dead bodies; I just find them.”

  “Not funny.”

  “I’m not trying to be funny, and it’s not my fault. I just seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, a lot. And be careful. My mother is back there.” I pointed in the general direction of the dim light.

  Rick scowled, not a good sign, and headed for the back room. I thought I heard him mumbling to himself.

  I didn’t want to interfere, so I stayed away from the back room and began roaming around the studio, having a need to keep moving. I stopped in front of a few portraits and studied them. Jolly had actually been quite good. There were some candid shots of Joshua and Purity, gazing at each other lovingly. I was surprised that Joshua hadn’t made Jolly take them down. But then, maybe he didn’t know they were displayed.

  I heard voices coming from the back room. One of the officers walked out and stood by the front door. After a few minutes a team pulled up and started unloading equipment – crime scene technicians. I backed out of the way and let them pass.

  My mother walked out to join me. “That homicide detective isn’t in a very good mood. What’s his name? Rick?”

  “Somehow I don’t think dead bodies probably make his day,” I said. “Besides, he’s ticked off at me.”

  “Why would he be upset with you?”

  “Because I keep finding dead people.”

  “Oh.” My answer didn’t seem to surprise her.

  “I don’t know why this happens, Mother. I can be minding my own business, and boom! There’s a dead body lying right in front of me.”

  “Just as long as it’s not your dead body, dear. That’s all I care about.” My mother moved closer and put her arm around me.