Marja McGraw - Bogey Man 01 - Bogey Nights (8 page)

“Bless you,” I said, gratefully.

The phone rang and Chris left me at the table while he answered it. He walked into the other room and I could hear his voice, but not what he was saying. His tone sounded upset, but not angry. I busied myself by putting a few clean dishes away that had been sitting in the dish drainer. Chris returned to the kitchen after only a few minutes.

“Well, that was Brian, from the band
. They’ve taken another job. I can’t blame them, but it sure leaves us in a bind. I wonder how long it’ll take before we lose our waitresses and chef. I’d hoped they could quality for and survive on unemployment checks.” He sat down on the chair and put his head in his hands.

“Now,
Honey,” I said, “we can work this out. There are plenty of other bands and restaurant staff out there looking for a good job. We’ll be fine. You just wait and see. If we have to, we’ll cook and serve the customers ourselves, but it won’t come to that.”

Chris looked up and smiled
. “You’re right. We’ll be fine.”

“And just think of all the fun we’re going to have solving our murder.”

“
Our
murder?”

“Uh,
the
murder. Not ours. We’re not dying. You know what I meant.”

Chapter
Nine

W
ednesday rolled around and the first thing I did was send Watson outside to get the newspaper. Of course, Sherlock accompanied her, not wanting to be left out. My two Labs were awesome. Training them had been fairly easy because it seemed like all they wanted to do was to please us. I gave them each a treat when they returned with the paper and they settled in to watch what I was doing.

I started preparing breakfast and called
upstairs to Mikey to get up. After a few minutes, when I didn’t hear him moving around, I sent Sherlock to get him. This was part of our normal routine.

“Go get Mikey,” I said
. The dog glanced at me and turned to the doorway, then took off to find my son. The house was very quiet and I could hear him tromp up the stairs and push the bedroom door open. Sherlock barked once, and then again. Finally, I heard some movement upstairs, and moments later I heard Chris come down the stairs, mumbling, “Nag, nag nag. Why’d you send the dog up to wake me?”

I laughed
. “I didn’t. I sent him up to get Mikey.”

There was a noise on the stairs before I heard Mikey mumbling, “Bark, bark, bark
. What’s up with Sherlock this morning?”

Needless to say, Chris and Mikey
are not morning people. Neither am I, actually, but then I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I was the one who had to get everyone moving.

I set a simple breakfast on the table
with eggs, grits and toast, and my boys dug in. We’d never had grits before, until a few months earlier, and we discovered that with milk and a little sugar, we loved them.

I pulled the rubber band off the newspaper and opened it, and there it was, halfway down the front page
. “
Vintage Murder Scene Found at Site of New Restaurant
”. Vintage murder scene?
How very cute of Sharon to put it that way
, I thought with a touch of sarcasm. I was not a happy camper. I didn’t think Chris would be too happy either.

At least she hadn’t
mentioned the restaurant by name, but then how could she? It didn’t
have
a name yet. She did, however, mention the fire at the old restaurant.

She also
named the victim and the location where the remains were found, and she made a point of writing that it was under investigation as a homicide. The victim was Charles Blakely, and family members had been found and notified. Blakely had a sister, a niece and a great-niece who lived in the area.

She also mentioned Chris and me by name, commenting briefly on our involvement in another murder which had taken place a year earlier
. That was when I’d first met Chris. She even had the gall to mention Chris’s resemblance to Humphrey Bogart.

She was playing us up in the article while telling about the old murder
. Did she honestly think that would bring business into the restaurant? And why on earth did she have to mention our involvement in a year-old murder? If I read the story and didn’t know Chris and me, I’d think there was something wrong with us for being close to two murder scenes. This would not be a draw for customers.

After
finishing the article I handed it to Chris. I wanted to say something to him, but not in front of Mikey. And there was a lot that I wanted to say to Sharon. All of my comments would have to wait until Mikey was at school.

The boys finished their breakfast and left the table
, and I started washing the dishes. I could hear the shower running upstairs, so I knew Chris was ready to face the day. Mikey dressed for school and came back downstairs after a few minutes. He had his books and backpack with him and he sat down at the table.

“Did you make your bed?” I asked.

“I did.”

I put the last dish in the drainer, dried my hands, and grabbed my purse and car keys
. “Let’s go then.”

On the way to school I reminded Mikey about his promise not to mention the dead body
. He said he remembered.

By the time I arrived home, Chris was sitting at the kitchen table rereading the article
and frowning.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“I think all the stories we’ve heard about Sharon are true. She didn’t try to put a good spin on the murder. I guess I should say, the situation. I don’t think we want to use the ‘M’ word in public.”

“Well, I don’t really want to stick up for her, but how can you put a good spin on a murder?
I mean, really. You can’t. At the very least I thought she’d leave us out of it and put the story in the back of the paper or something.”

“But, Pamela, that wouldn’t put her in good with the editor
. And she does want to become a real, honest-to-goodness reporter.” His tone sounded sarcastic, and I understood how he felt.

“Now what are we going to do?” I asked.

“All we can do is wait. Hopefully this will all be over and forgotten soon. We should probably talk to Sharon, too. Maybe remind her about the good spin she was going to put on her story.”

“Can you talk to Big D about Sharon?
I know they just met each other, but maybe he can help us. Do you think he carries any weight with her?”

“I doubt it
. He’s just a big ol’ Teddy Bear when it comes to women, and he really seems to like Sharon, which makes it even worse. Plus they just met.”

“He lets women walk all over him?
I know he can be shy, but I’m still surprised to hear that. I would have thought he’d be the alpha dog in a relationship.”

“Nope
. He thinks of women as delicate little flowers.”

“Oh, brother
. Is
he
ever in for a rude awakening.”

I left Chris alone so he could read the rest of the newspaper and began making preparations for our barbeque
. I planned on serving barbequed ribs, baked beans and French fries, and maybe onion rings, along with garlic toast. Thinking about it made me hungry. I had some avocados, so I thought I’d make some guacamole, too, as an appetizer. Onion dip and potato chips… No, I was already thinking of onion rings. I didn’t want to overdo the onions. Maybe I’d just serve French fries and forget the onion rings. I stopped and chuckled to myself. It takes so little to distract me, which isn’t always a bad thing. I prepared the guacamole and put the bowl in the refrigerator.

I was unwrapping the ribs when the doorbell rang
. Chris glanced up from the newspaper, rolling his upper lip under. We weren’t expecting anyone.

“I’ll get it
. You just stay right there and read the paper. No need to get up or anything.”

He quietly growled at me.

I rolled my eyes and he returned to the paper. He was so cute that it was hard to feel angry. I was teasing him and he knew it.

The bell rang again and I hurried my steps.

“Yes?” I said, opening the door to find a pair of strangers standing on the porch. I hoped they weren’t selling anything. I can be such an easy mark.

“Are you Mrs
. Cross?” A little brown-haired munchkin addressed me, appearing nervous. She had to be under five feet, and she was petite enough to make me feel like an Amazon warrior, even though I was only five-four. She had very delicate, lovely features. Directly behind her stood someone of about the same size. All I could see was a cloud of blonde hair framing the first woman’s face from behind.

“Yes, I am
. What can I do for you?” They didn’t
look
like saleswomen, at least the one I could see, and they didn’t look like choir members out to talk us into attending their church. Besides, I had my own church.

“My name is Midge Meyers, and this is…”

She suddenly realized that the other person wasn’t standing beside her and reached back to pull her to her side.

“…and this is my daughter, Pidge. Pidge is just a nickname.” The woman sounded as nervous as she looked.

Pidge was almost a carbon copy of her mother, but about twenty years younger and slightly heavier
. While her mother appeared nervous, the younger woman looked embarrassed.

Okay
, I wondered,
what’s this all about?

“We’re here to talk to you about the dead body, or bones, that were found in the cellar of your new home
. Or restaurant. Or whatever you want to call it.”

I turned from the door and called to
my husband. “Chris, I think you might want to come to the door.”

Turning back to the women, I said, “Wait for just a moment, until my husband joins us
. We don’t know anything about the man that was found. I’m not sure what you want from us.” I figured they were probably some screwballs who read the newspaper article and wanted to lay claim to some long lost fortune. I mentally rolled my eyes for even having such a thought.

“We’ll wait,” Midge said
. “I’d like to talk to your husband, too.”

Pidge fidgeted while we waited.

“What is it?” Chris asked.

“These two women would like to talk to us about the bones we found at the restaurant
. That’s all I know.”

“Mr
. Cross?” Midge said, holding out her hand. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Midge Meyers, and this is my daughter, Pidge, and we’re here about the body that was found in your basement. He was my uncle, Charles Blakely.”

I stepped back from the door and invited the women to come inside
. They had my full attention. “Your uncle?” I asked. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” I was, but it felt funny saying that since he’d been gone for so many years.

Midge and her daughter took seats, each at opposite ends of the couch
. Chris and I sat in chairs and faced them.

“How can we help you?” Chris asked.

Midge took a deep breath while her daughter stared at the floor. “The police notified us of the discovery, and then we read the article in the newspaper. As I recall, you were also involved in a murder about a year ago. The article reminded me of that.”

Chris started to say something, but she held up her
tiny index finger to stop him.

“Please hear me out
. We always knew something bad had happened to Uncle Charles. He was a good man, and my mother never believed he would just lose contact with everyone like that. His disappearance hit hard. We are, and were, a close-knit family.”

Midge appeared to be in her
early sixties, and I couldn’t imagine she remembered much about her uncle, if she knew him at all. I wondered if she’d even been born when he disappeared.

“How old were you when
the family lost contact?” I asked.

“Oh, I hadn’t been born yet
. However, my mother and grandmother used to talk about Uncle Charles a lot. Actually, it’s my mother who wants me to try to find out what happened. She’s still in her own home, but she doesn’t get around much anymore. She adored my uncle. From the stories she tells, he practically walked on water.”

She shook her head
, looking sorrowful.

“I wish I had know
n my uncle.”

“Again,” Chris asked, “how can we help you?”

“Here’s the thing,” Midge replied. “The police made us feel that because of the time lapse since the crime was committed, this is very much a low priority case for them. I’d like to hire you to find out who killed my uncle so that my mother can have some peace of mind. I know, I know. That’s a pretty tall order, but I gather you’ve had some experience.”

“I’m not a private investigator,” Chris said
. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“You could begin by looking around that house for clues, and you could try to find out who was involved in his life in those days.”

“Yeah, Chris,” I said. “How hard could
that
be?”

Pidge gave me a look
. I couldn’t quite identify the look, but my feeling was she didn’t like my sarcasm. Or maybe she agreed with me. I couldn’t tell.

“Mrs
. Meyers – ” Chris began.

“Midge
. Please call me Midge.”

Chris
looked uncomfortable. “Midge, my wife and I have actually thought about looking into this, but there are a few factors involved here that you need to think about. We don’t want to get in the way of the police investi – ”

“If it’s low priority for them, then it shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

“As I said, I’m not a private investigator.”

“You helped out in that murder case last year
. You’ve had experience.”

“I don’t want to put my wife or son in danger.”

“What danger? This happened a long time ago. My mother needs closure. At her age, she kind of obsesses about her older brother sometimes.”