Gin Mill Grill Read online

  We pulled up to find a police car parked in front of Eloise’s house. Her front door was open and they stood inside, where we could see them.

  We walked in and the cop turned to see who was joining them. His face showed recognition when he saw my husband, who still had plenty of connections with the L.A.P.D.

  Pete held out his hand. “Hey, Randy, how’s it going?”

  “Pete! Good to see you.”

  I pulled Eloise aside while the men did their catching up and bonding. It never hurt to stay on the good side of someone who could be a source, and Pete knew that. Besides, these cops were old friends. Pete had only been gone from the force for a few years.

  “So what happened?” I asked.

  “Well, this is just stupid. Plain ol’ stupid. Someone threw a rock through my window, and there was a note attached. Can you believe that? I thought notes attached to a rock only happened in old movies. Now I have to have the window replaced and I’m just furious.”

  “Where’s the note?” I asked, stepping back to avoid any spitting.

  She pointed toward Pete’s friend, Randy. “He’s got it.”

  I told her to sit down on the couch and relax while I retrieved the note. Approaching the men, I heard them talking about cops who’d retired.

  “Excuse me,” I said. “Eloise said you have the note that was fastened to the rock. May I see it?”

  Pete looked surprised. “Note?”

  “Yes, there was a note.”

  “Oh, Randy, this is my wife, Sandi.”

  Randy had fastened the paper to his clipboard. He nodded at me and unfastened it, handing it to me. I guess he thought if I was Pete’s wife, I must be trustworthy.

  “What’s this all about?” he asked, glancing at my husband.

  I heard Pete telling him the story as I walked away.

  Sitting down next to Eloise, I unfolded the piece of paper.

  “Leave the past in the past,” it read. “You’re stirring things up that should be left alone.”

  I glanced at Pete and felt very smug. Some gut feelings were worth paying attention to, and this was one of them. I’m not sure why I felt smug. He’d believed me when I said I had a feeling.

  “Two things come to mind,” I said. “The note references the past.”

  “Well, duh,” Eloise said. She was obviously in a contrary mood after the rock incident.

  I patted her knee.

  “The other thing is that the handwriting looks like the writer was shaky. I’m thinking the author of the note is an elderly person or someone who was very nervous.”

  “I’m sorry, Sandi. I shouldn’t have said duh, but I didn’t think investigating such an old murder would turn into three murders and a threat. That is a threat, right?”

  “I’d call it a threat, yes. Someone thought everything was done and forgotten, but then we found Harley’s body.”

  I thought for a moment.

  “The only outsider we’ve talked to is Edgar’s son. Unless he blabbed to someone else, I can’t imagine how anyone would know we were working on the case. He said Edgar is going on ninety-nine and he lives in an assisted living facility, so we can rule him out as the rock thrower, and I can’t imagine why his son would react this way. He must have told someone else.”

  Eloise nodded, knowingly, and said, “We’ve ruffled someone’s feathers. In the process we’ve learned that Harley and some poor woman were murdered, too. Whoever’s behind this doesn’t know who they’re dealing with. Now I’m more determined than ever to follow through and see if we, I mean you and Pete, can figure this out.”

  I almost thunked my forehead with the palm of my hand. She wanted to stay involved in the investigation, just like my mother, my aunt and Dolly liked to do. Why is it that older women want to be in on the action?

  Randy walked over to us. “Pete tells me that Detective Mason wants you two to continue working on this.” He held out his hand. “Unfortunately, I’ll need to hang on to the note. If you need it for any reason, I’ll make a copy for you.”

  I handed him the paper. “Thank you.”

  “In the meantime, Pete is going to board up the window, and I’ll patrol the neighborhood as often as I can tonight. I’ll let Detective Mason know what’s going on, too.”

  Pete walked out with Randy while Eloise and I sat and contemplated our fingernails. He said he was going to drive to the hardware store and find something to cover the broken window.

  “What do we do next?” she asked.

  “You get some sleep, and Pete and I will do some detecting in the morning. You’re still going to meet us at the grill tomorrow morning, aren’t you?”

  “You bet! I’ll be there bright and early.”

  “If you get there before we do, be sure to lock up while you’re there alone.”

  She reached for my hand. “Thank you, Sandi. I wasn’t sure if you’d stick with me or not, considering… Well, everything.”

  “You hired us and we’re on for the duration,” I said. “The rock thrown through your window gives me pause about if there’s any danger to you involved. If you need anything else, call me. I think you’re probably okay for tonight, though. Randy will keep an eye on you as much as he can.”

  “Actually, I’m having some fun with this,” she said, “rock or no rock.”

  Oh, good Lord, no, I thought. She really is just like my mother and my aunt.

  “Please don’t think of this as an adventure,” I said. “I’ve seen other people do that and regret it later.” Actually, that was a half-truth.

  “Oh, no, I have more sense than that.” The grin on her face belied her words.

  Pete finally returned bearing plywood and he covered the window. Thankfully, the tools were still in the back of the Jeep.

  We left, reminding Eloise to call us if anything else were to happen.

  Once at home, I let the dogs out to do their doggie business, gave them each a treat and Pete and I went to bed.

  “I don’t know about you,” I said, yawning, “but it’s been a busy day and I’m exhausted.”

  He replied in the form of a snort, which would more commonly be referred to as a snore.

  ~ * ~

  Once again, Stanley and Felicity met us at the restaurant. Before we walked in, I told them about the rock incident and that the handwriting looked like it might be that of an older person.

  “I continued researching last night,” Stanley said, “and I used the list of names Pete gave me. I – “

  “What list?” I asked.

  “You know, the list of customers who owed the brothers money,” he reminded me.

  “I’d almost forgotten about that. It looked like there were a bunch of people who ran a tab at the speakeasy.”

  Stanley picked up where he’d left off. “There were several names on the list. Nineteen, to be precise. I researched the names and I believe at least two are still living. I was also able to determine that others have relatives who might know something about the Prohibition era.”

  “Good work, Stan,” I said. “Besides Edgar and his son, there may be others who can provide us with some more personal information.”

  I noticed he’d brought his laptop computer with him. More research?

  I knocked on the door and Eloise hollered, “Come on in.” She hadn’t locked the door.

  Sighing, I closed my eyes for a moment. I debated about whether to say something to her about her safety, but decided it wouldn’t do any good.

  She’d obviously been there for a while because she’d been cleaning. The counter sparkled and so did the booths and tables. It looked like she was just about to start on the floors. I noticed that she’d brought a picnic basket filled with food again.

  There were lights on. I glanced up at them and she saw me.

  “I called yesterday to have the electricity and water turned on,” she explained. “I felt like it would make things a little easier if we spend much time here.” She looked slightly embarrassed. “I own se
veral buildings around town and they went out of their way to get things turned on quickly.”

  “Good thinking.” Pete turned to Stan. “I see you brought a computer with you.”

  “If we don’t find something interesting early, I thought I’d do a little more research.”

  I smiled at him. “I have one more name you can add to the list to research. Eloise found a note Archie wrote about a woman the cousins had argued about.”

  “What’s the name?”

  “Loretta Simms. I’m going to tell Rick about her. It may be her body that we found in the back room.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Stanley nodded and jotted down the woman’s name.

  “Did you bring the sledge hammer with you?” Eloise asked.

  “Why?” Pete raised one eyebrow and looked at her, questioning her question.

  “We’ve got more walls to tear down. You never know what we might find.”

  “I think we’ve probably found all we’re going to. If you want all the walls down, you’re going to have to call a contractor.” Pete looked around the restaurant, and he didn’t look happy.

  Stanley appeared disappointed. “I might bring down more of the wall,” he offered. “It’s rather therapeutic to swing that hammer and destroy the walls.”

  “Why do you need therapy? What’s wrong?” Felicity asked.

  “Oh, nothing in particular, but it feels good to get physical for a change.”

  Felicity looked suspicious, but she let it go – for the time being.

  “Go for it,” Pete said, grinning. “I’ll watch.”

  Stanley rubbed his shoulder and his lower back before picking up the sledge hammer. I knew he was feeling sore from the work he and Pete had done the day before. It didn’t seem to stop him, though. He took a few swings, found nothing behind the wall and set the implement down. He’d had enough.

  I smiled, inwardly. It hadn’t taken much.

  “I’ll work on researching Loretta Simms. Maybe the police found some type of identification in the purse the body was resting on.” He turned on his laptop and sat down at a table.

  “You might be right. I’ll call Rick,” Pete said.

  We three women started talking. Stanley could ignore the noise, but Pete couldn’t. He took his cell phone and stepped outside.

  “If the body we found is that of Loretta, do you think Stan will be able to find any information about her?” Eloise asked.

  “Sure,” Felicity replied. “He’ll look at old newspapers from that time period, in addition to other places he frequents on the net.”

  I had a few thoughts, too. “We’re meeting with Edgar Barrow and his son tomorrow. Maybe the mention of Loretta’s name will bring back memories for Edgar. It sounds like she was pretty well-known. I wonder if there’s any way we might find a picture of her. I can’t explain it, but it helps me investigate when I know what a person looks like.”

  “I might be able to help you with that,” Eloise said. “Archie saved a bunch of old photos from the speakeasy. Since the place was illegal, I’m surprised they took pictures, but they did. I’ll take a look for them when I get home.”

  “No need,” Stanley called from across the room. “It seems that Loretta Simms was a songbird. There’s an article in the paper about her disappearance and it includes some of her background, along with a photo. I’d be willing to wager that she sang at the speakeasy. When I can, at home, I’ll print the picture for you. In the meantime, come over here and you can see her for yourself.”

  The three of us rushed over and surrounded Stanley, trying to get a good look at the computer screen.

  Pete was shoving his cell phone in his pocket when he joined us. “Did you find something?”

  “We found the woman,” Stanley said. “It appears she was quite a popular singer, at least locally.”

  Pete nudged me out of the way so he could take a look.

  I nudged him back.

  Shrugging, he stepped behind me and looked over my shoulder. “Well, that fits the description I got from Rick. There was ID in the woman’s purse; a driver’s license with Loretta’s name on it. Of course, they can’t say it’s her with certainty until they run tests, but I’m guessing we found the singer’s body.”

  “How did Rick get her description?” I asked.

  “They didn’t put photos on the old licenses, but they did put a description that fits. The picture in the newspaper is black and white, but in the close up shot of her you can see the woman has blonde hair and probably blue eyes. Her height and probable weight will be determined when the bones are examined.”

  “Her eyes were obviously a very light blue or we wouldn’t be able to tell the color.” I found myself over-explaining and decided to stop talking.

  Stanley glanced back at Pete. “I don’t know why, but they mention in the article that Ms. Simms walked with a limp.”

  “That clinches it,” Pete said. “Rick mentioned that it appeared one of her legs was a bit shorter than the other one.”

  “She was a beautiful woman,” Eloise commented, studying the picture on the screen. “I doubt if she weighed too much. She has high cheekbones and her face is slender, although she has full lips. She’s got those weird-shaped eyebrows drawn on like they used to do, though. I guess it was the style, but I never liked the look. “She reached up and touched her own brows.

  I bit my tongue. I didn’t – couldn’t – mention Eloise’s bushy eyebrows. It would hurt her feelings.

  “What’s next?” Felicity asked.

  “Stan can do more research,” Pete said, “but there’s not much else we can do until we talk to the old man tomorrow. I sure hope he’s having one of his good days.”

  Stanley continued to research, and he found a few more photos of Loretta. She sang in a dinner club fairly frequently, and we could only guess that she sang at the speakeasy, too.

  Pete looked at a full-length photo of the woman.

  Eloise was right. She was slender.

  My husband continued to study the photo. “Did I mention that Rick said the coroner told him one of her legs had been broken and improperly set? That’s why one leg was a little shorter than the other.”

  I rolled my eyes. “No, you mentioned a shorter leg, but you failed to mention the broken leg. I’m not sure what difference it might make, but it gives me a better feel for the woman.”

  He shrugged. Apparently he hadn’t thought the reason for the difference in her legs was too important.

  Having already rolled my eyes, I sighed. Maybe I was making a big deal out of nothing.

  Eloise set out paper plates and plastic glasses with a pitcher of iced tea. It was time for lunch.

  We talked while we ate.

  “I’m really anxious to speak to Edgar,” I said. “I wonder how far off the beam he is, although from what his son told Stan, he does have a few lucid moments.”

  Stanley nodded. “And he does seem to recall the past.”

  “I wish we could go with you.” Felicity took a bite of her sandwich.

  “I should go with you, like you suggested,” Eloise said. “After all, he knew my father and cousins. Maybe we can connect.”

  Pete looked thoughtful. “I won’t guarantee you’ll have a chance to talk to him, but there’s always a possibility.”

  “Thanks,” she said, smiling. “We have a plan.”

  “What time are we supposed to meet with him?” I asked.

  Stanley swallowed a sip of tea and turned to me. “His son suggested you be there by nine-thirty tomorrow morning. He said his father seems a little sharper in the morning. He said that by the afternoon, he’s tired and his mind wanders.”

  Eloise rolled her lips together and looked somber. “I hope I keep my faculties intact when I’m older. I don’t want anyone to have to take care of me.”

  I set down my sandwich and turned to her. “I never asked. Did you and your husband have kids?”

  “We have one son. He lives in Wyoming. He had a d
ream about being a cowboy, and by golly, he did it. I wouldn’t want him to have to take care of me. He likes his lifestyle. Ed, Jr. is married to a little sugar named Heidi. They love the ranch life. No, I want to be able to take care of myself for the rest of my life.”

  I thought of Dolly. “I have a neighbor who’s in her eighties, and she’s as sharp as a tack. She likes taking care of other people, like her granddaughter and me and Pete. You know who I mean. She’s the one who takes care of the dogs for us when we’re on a case. She’s about as independent as they come.”

  “I think I’d like her.” Eloise glanced around the restaurant. “I take it you left the dogs with her.”

  “We did.”

  Stanley finished eating and returned to his laptop. He was intent on finding more information about anyone he could whose name we had on the list.

  “Okay, here’s one,” he said. “Jeffrey Windsor is one of the names on the bar tab list. I knew that name sounded familiar. He’s the owner of Estate Wineries. From what I’ve read, he started out as a bootlegger, but he must have been a young teenager at the time. Otherwise he’d be over a hundred years old by now. When Prohibition ended, he decided to become legitimate. His logo is, ‘Life is a Wild Ride, So Come Ride with Us.’ It’s on all of the wine bottles and people think it’s a hoot. I’ve partaken of his product, and it’s quite tasty.”

  Pete laughed. “I remember the last time you partook. You don’t hold your liquor very well, pal.”

  Stanley grinned. “I guess I over-partook, so to speak.”

  “Is he accessible?” I asked. “He might be a good one to talk to.”

  “I’ll see if I can set up an appointment for you.” Stanley stood, stretched, and closed his laptop. “I’ve also heard that even in his late nineties, he’s a rough and tumble guy – a good businessman, but one who doesn’t take guff from anyone.”

  “Is he sharp?” Eloise asked.

  “He’s still able to run his business, although I read he’s thinking about retiring and turning it over to his daughter-in-law and grandson.”

  Felicity closed her eyes. “I wonder what it would have been like to live in those days, as a bootlegger. It must have been a dangerous business.”