Marja McGraw - Bogey Man 02 - Bogey's Ace in the Hole Page 2

  Glancing back at the Church Ladies, I could see an expectant expression on their faces.

  “Let me find my husband and talk to him for a moment.”

  I waved Daniel over.

  “Would you please bring each of these ladies another drink?” I glanced from face to face. “It’s on the house.”

  The women smiled at me.

  He nodded and turned to find clean glasses. “Sure thing, Mrs. Cross.”

  “I’ll have iced tea this time,” Lila said, taking a last sip of her wine.

  I could feel the ladies’ eyes boring into my back as I left the lounge in search of Chris. He was still talking to the people Phyllis had asked him to see, but it appeared that they were winding things up. I waited, none too patiently. The band was playing again and I tapped my foot in time to the music.

  When he finally left the table, I waved him over.

  “Phyllis was right. One of the men at that table is from a tourist magazine, and he wants to do a story on Bogey Nights.”

  I nodded distractedly at what should have been awesome news. “Okay, Bogey Man,” I said, using my favorite nickname for him, “I know what the Church ladies want, and their request includes you.”

  Chris rolled his upper lip under in true Bogey fashion, and pushing back his jacket he stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Is this a good thing or a bad thing? Because your face says it’s not a good thing.”

  “I’ll let you be the judge.”

  I explained the situation to him and before I could even finish the story, he groaned. “Haven’t we done enough detecting lately? First we solved a multiple murder, and then we found a missing relative for a friend of the sister of the dead guy. Now these women want us to find another missing person?”

  “But this isn’t just a lost relative. This is an actual missing woman.”

  “Listen, angel, those dames – ”

  I cringed and glanced over my shoulder. “Please don’t call the Church Ladies dames, sweetie.”

  “Okay, I’ll watch what I say for your sake. Why can’t the coppers handle this?”

  “The police aren’t interested because Addie has only been missing since this morning,” I said, feeling just a trifle foolish.

  “This morning? What makes them think something’s happened to her if she’s only been missing for a few hours?”

  “Because her purse and her bible are still at the house, and her car is still parked in her garage.”

  “Oh, that explains it all.”

  “No need to be sarcastic, Chris.” I narrowed my eyes at him. He’d been kind of snippy all day. I wasn’t about to let whatever was bothering him be taken out on me.

  He sighed. “Sorry, doll, I’m just tired. I haven’t slept well the last couple of nights.”

  “Something bothering you?” I asked.

  “No, I just couldn’t sleep. I’ll have some Joe and that should perk me up.”

  “Come to the lounge with me to talk to the ladies and I’ll ask Daniel to pour you coffee.”

  I could see by his expression that he was debating whether or not to meet the women. I smiled at him and fluttered my eyelashes, hoping to make it more difficult to turn me down.

  “Okay, I’ll at least come hear what they have to say. But they’d better have a good story or I’m gonna take a powder, real fast. And quit batting your lashes at me.”

  “No taking a powder, Bogey Man.” I knew that once Chris met these women he’d be an easy mark for them. I almost laughed out loud. Chris was no match for the Church Ladies. I knew it and they knew it, but Chris was like a lamb being led to slaughter.

  We walked into the cocktail lounge where the women waited for us.

  “Oh, Mr. Cross,” Lila said after the introductions. “You’re such a good man to agree to help us.”

  “I haven’t agreed – ”

  They cut him off at the knees.

  “You’re one of God’s children,” Jasmine said, “and He’s going to use you to help us find our friend. I just know it.”

  May was nodding with way too much enthusiasm.

  I caught myself nodding right along with her and forced myself to stop before I looked into Chris’s eyes. When I did look, I could see he was hooked. Or maybe trapped was a better description.

  Daniel handed Chris a cup of coffee and my husband took a few sips before speaking to the women again.

  “Does your friend have any relatives? Maybe she’s taken off to visit someone,” he said.

  “She has a daughter,” Jasmine said, “but we don’t want to call and worry her. She thinks Addie should be in an old folks home, but she’s dead wrong. Addie is as sharp as you and Pamela. Please don’t call her daughter.”

  “This brings up another question. Could she have wandered off? I mean, she’s not a young – ”

  May’s face became a mask of stubbornness, not to mention annoyance. “None of us are young in appearance anymore, but believe you me, we’re young at heart. Our minds are razor sharp and we use them all the time. None of us is going to seed.”

  “Okay, okay, but I had to ask,” Chris said, almost apologetically.

  “Did your friend’s neighbor tell you anything about the man she was arguing with this morning?” Chris was on the case. I could tell. Something about these women had grabbed him and wasn’t about to let go.

  The band started up another number.

  “Let’s go to my office,” I suggested. “Between the band and people starting to dance, it’s not easy to talk business in here.”

  “Good idea,” Chris said. “I’ll go ask Phyllis to keep an eye on things.”

  Everyone followed me through the kitchen and back to my office, where we found Sherlock and Watson napping on the couch.

  “Yikes,” Lila said. “Dogs!”

  “They’re friendly,” I assured her.

  “How friendly?”

  “Very.”

  “What are they?” Lila was intimidated by the dogs and backed up to the wall.

  “Sherlock and Watson are yellow Labrador retrievers. Sherlock is a boy, and Watson is a girl. They’re both about two and a half years old. They saved someone’s life once, if that makes you feel any better.”

  “They did?” Lila asked. “How?”

  “They pulled a man out of a burning building.”

  “I read about that in the newspaper,” Jasmine said. “Lila has a fear of dogs, as I’m sure you can see.”

  “Well, let’s see what we can do about that,” I suggested. “Come here, Sherlock. Come, Watson.”

  Tails flying like thick whips, both dogs came to me. There must have been something in my voice because instead of tearing up the rug to get to me, they both approached quietly and politely, the only sign of their excitement being their tails.

  “Shake hands with Lila,” I said, tapping her shoulder.

  The dogs looked into her eyes and sat down in front of her, each lifting a paw as asked. Lila’s eyes were large and round as she timidly reached out to the dogs. I held my breath, hoping they wouldn’t lick her hand. She might think they were trying to bite her. She shook hands, or paws, with each dog in turn and stepped back quickly. Neither dog took a lick, although I could see Watson’s nose twitching, and I let my breath out.

  “Now let me show you something else.”

  I turned to the dogs.

  “Slip me some skin,” I said. I held out both hands and each dog lifted a paw and slid it down my hand. “Good babies,” I said. “Now let’s go outside.” I opened the back door which led to a small fenced yard and the dogs meekly and quietly walked outside. It was a proud moment for me, but they shouldn’t have been in the restaurant anyway. If the Health Department saw them in my office, I’d be in deep trouble. They were never allowed beyond my office though. I slipped them each a doggie cookie as they walked outside.

  “What does slip me some skin mean?” May asked.

  “It’s like asking them to shake my hand, but more jazz
y. Kind of like the modern version of a cool handshake, only the term is an old one. You know, instead of shaking hands, you slide your hand down the other person’s hand.”

  “I’ve seen teenagers do that,” Jasmine said. “I have a grandson.”

  May and Lila nodded. “We’ve learned a lot from Jasmine’s grandson.”

  Chris returned from talking to Phyllis and sat down on the edge of my desk. “Alright, ladies, convince me your friend is really missing.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Cross, but you’re just going to have to trust us. We know Addie like we know ourselves, and she wouldn’t have left without her purse or her bible, or on foot.” Jasmine used a no-nonsense tone of voice. She could have said, Don’t test me on this one, Sonny, or you’ll be sorry, and her tone would have sounded the same.

  “Call me Chris. And I’m inclined to take your word for it,” he replied, surprising me.

  “You are?” I asked.

  He didn’t take his eyes off of Jasmine when he answered me. “Yes. These women are one hundred percent sincere. And they’re right; they know their friend better than anyone else. If they say she’s missing, then I believe them. I just don’t know if we can help find her.”

  Jasmine, once again, turned to her two companions, who nodded vigorously. “We have the utmost faith in you and Pamela, Chris.”

  “Yes, we do,” May said.

  “Total faith,” Lila added.

  “You do?” I asked.

  “We do. We believe that God has given you a talent for solving things. And, I personally, believe that our Father will use this task to bring Chris into the fold.”

  I couldn’t help myself – honestly. I rolled my eyes and began to laugh. When Lila turned to me, I laughed even harder and snorted.

  “Snorting is not ladylike,” Lila said, “but I understand. I’ve snorted a few times myself. My Edgar, bless his long-departed soul, used to tell me that it embarrassed him, along with most everything else I did.”

  For some reason that brought an end to my momentary lapse of sobriety. Lila’s words sounded like they should have been accompanied by bitterness, but I didn’t hear even a hint of that emotion in her voice. Instead, and surprisingly, I heard forgiveness.

  “Okay, Bogey Man, where do we start on this one?” I asked.

  Before he could answer, Lila giggled. “He really does look like Humphrey Bogart, doesn’t he?”

  “Well, angel, I say we start at the scene of the crime, so to speak. After we close up tonight, let’s go eyeball their friend’s house. You can give us a key, right?” He glanced at Jasmine, apparently figuring she was the ringleader. Good guess on his part.

  “I have it right here,” she said, digging around in her purse.

  “If your friend – Addie is it? – is really missing, then the heat’s on. We can’t let time slip through our fingers. And assuming Addie isn’t somewhere in that house listening to the birdies sing, then we’ll flap our gums at the neighbor first thing in the a.m. By the time we close tonight it’ll be too late, and we can’t hit the bricks right now.” Chris double-checked his watch.

  “If you’ll cover for me, I could go talk to the neighbor now,” I suggested.

  “And we can accompany you,” Jasmine said.

  “What does listening to the birdies sing mean?” Lila asked.

  “Unconscious.” I answered her without thinking about it. I’d become pretty accustomed to Chris’s forties vocabulary.

  Jasmine sucked in her breath. “Could we have missed her somewhere in the house? Could she have needed us all this time and we just left her there alone?”

  Chapter Three

  “I’m sure you did a thorough check,” I said. “I think the important thing would be to talk to the neighbor as soon as possible. And I don’t think you three should go with me. We might overwhelm her and she could forget an important detail if she thinks we’re ganging up on her.” It made sense to me, plus I didn’t want the ladies to go with me.

  “If you think so,” May said.

  “Are you sure?” Lila asked.

  “Yes. Can you give me a ride to our house so I can pick up my car? Chris and I rode to work together.”

  “I have a better idea,” Jasmine said. “We’ll give you a ride to Addie’s house and wait in the car for you.” Oh, this woman was sharp. One way or the other they planned on accompanying me.

  I glanced at Chris, looking for an out, and he pulled on his ear lobe before breaking out in a big grin. He thought it was funny. Since my back was now to the women, I rolled my eyes at him and mouthed the word thanks. He very subtly nodded his head at me.

  I glanced down at my long green dress. It was satiny and floor-length with a low back and flowing sleeves, not exactly what I wanted to wear to interview someone. But it was getting late and there wasn’t enough time to run home and change. I grabbed a sweater off the coat rack in my office.

  “Let’s get this show on the road, ladies. Time’s a wastin’.”

  They gathered their purses and sweaters and led the way through the restaurant. Chris and I followed.

  “Be sure to ask the neighbor if she thinks there might be any way Addie left with the goon this morning,” Chris said. “Oh, and take a look inside her car. Maybe there’s something in it.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know all the right questions to ask. And I already planned on looking at the car. Trust me, Bogey Man.”

  “Oh, I do, sugar. I really do.” He gave me his best Bogey grin and gently slapped my… Well, that’s between me and Chris.

  “You’ll take the dogs home and check on Mikey, right?” I asked.

  “Constance is at our house with Ace tonight, so we know he’s okay, and I wouldn’t forget the dogs, would I?”

  Chris had given Mikey the nickname of Ace because, well, Mikey liked it. It was part of the forties jargon that Chris used so often.

  “Of course not. Sometimes it just makes me feel better if I’ve said it. Besides, I know Mikey is fine when he’s with Constance.” Constance is my friend and babysitter. She’s been a lifesaver for us because she genuinely cares about our son, and Mikey stays with her while we’re at the restaurant. Sometimes he stays at her house, and sometimes she comes to our home.

  I caught up to the Church Ladies who were waiting for me by the front entrance.

  “I sure like the way your husband talks,” Lila said.

  “Me, too,” May added.

  Jasmine smiled in agreement.

  “He’s quite the character,” I said. “He’s a good man, and that’s what really counts with me. And I have to admit that he sure does keep life interesting.”

  We reached Jasmine’s car, a light green 1951 Chevrolet, and waited while she unlocked it.

  “Chris has an older car, too, similar to this one,” I said. “It’s a light green forties vintage Chevy. When the Bogey Man drives down the street wearing his fedora, he draws quite a few interested stares.”

  “I’ll bet he does,” May said. “I’d bet for just a split second people forget the actor is gone and that Chris takes them back in time.”

  “I’ll bet you’re right,” Lila said.

  “Now, ladies, that’s enough betting for one evening,” Jasmine said.

  “Oh, it’s only a figure of speech. Lighten up, Jaz.” May didn’t seem to be intimidated by Jasmine.

  I found the relationships between these women very interesting. I hoped that when I was their age I’d have a friend, or friends, that I’d feel as close to as they were to each other.

  It took about half an hour in Friday night traffic to reach Addie’s place. I was glad to see the lights were still on at the houses on each side of the darkened home. I thought I might talk to the neighbor who saw Addie, and then the other neighbor, just in case they’d seen something, too.

  Jasmine parked her car at the curb and switched off the ignition.

  “Which house does the neighbor who witnessed the argument live in?” I asked.

  Jasmine pointed at the
home to the left of Addie’s.

  “I’ll be back,” I said. “Wait here for me.” I glanced at each woman with what I knew was the same expression I used when I told Sherlock and Watson to stay.

  They each nodded and I climbed out of the car, leaving my sweater behind because the weather was still warm, and carefully holding my dress up while I stepped over running water in the gutter onto the sidewalk. Patting my hair, I walked toward the front step. I usually wore my hair down, but for tonight I’d brushed it up with curls on top, similar to the famous pinup photo of Betty Grable.

  Before I could ring the doorbell, the front door was opened an inch. I could see an eyeball peering out at me past a safety chain. The eye moved up and down, and back up again.

  “Who are you?” a very nasal voice asked. “It’s a little early for trick or treating, don’t ya think?”

  “I wear this dress for work,” I explained, patting my hair again. “My name is Pamela Cross, and I’m here about your next door neighbor. Her friends said you saw her arguing with a man this morning, and I’d like to ask you about that.”

  “Ohhh,” the voice said before closing the door and pulling off the safety chain. The door opened again and a very short gnome-like woman with a slightly hunched back pulled the door wide, inviting me in. She had scraggly short white hair, huge dark brown eyes, a bulbous nose that was too large for her face, and she looked around eighty. Her ears, slightly protruding, were also a bit big for her face. She hugged a housecoat around her middle.

  “Thank you for letting me in. I know it’s late,” I said, glancing at my vintage watch, “but Addie is still missing and we need to find her as soon as we can.”

  The television blared with a medical talk show in progress.

  “At my age, dearie, I don’t sleep a lot.” She sat down in her recliner and looked at her television. “Phooey! It’s only eight o’clock. That’s not late at all. Besides, they’re going to talk about menopause. I’m past my prime and not interested.”

  I guessed that this woman could tell you what time of day it was by what show was on. At least, that’s the impression she gave. She picked up her remote control and pushed the Mute button. The sudden silence was golden.