Murder and Mayhem (42 page)

“Do you have a reservation?”

Danny shook his head, fearing the worst. “No, sorry,
we don’t.”

Her ebony eyes smiled. “Let me see what I can do for
you,” she said and checked the computer. “You’re in luck. I’ve got a couple of
queen rooms available. Do you prefer smoking or Non?”

“That’s great. Non smoking, thanks.” Danny agreed to
the price and handed over his credit card. But as his details were entered into
the computer it flagged his name.

The fine-boned features of the woman broke into a
broad smile. “Welcome back, Mr. Richards. Are you here for the bike show?”

He looked over at Nicola who was feigning interest in
the display of postcards on the stand beside the front desk, and said, “No.”

“Then I’ll give you a room upstairs at the end of the
hall away from the bikers. They can be a pretty rowdy bunch but it should be
nice and quiet back there.” She processed the transaction and handed back his
card. “If you have any problems you just let me know.”

“You’ve been here before?” Nicola said as they walked
down the long corridor to the room on the left at the end, opposite the
stairwell.

“So the lady said.”

“Another motorbike festival, no doubt?”

“Not that I recall,” Danny said and closed the
subject. 

*****

I noticed the look on my
sister’s face, and grinned.

“Perplexing?”

“Textbook enigmatic wouldn’t you
say?”

“Possibly!”

“Oh definitely!  But I’m not even going to ask.”

I shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

*****

“You’re going to go, aren’t you?” Nicola asked as she
searched through her bag for a pair of earrings she was particularly fond of.
“Ah-huh, there you are you slippery little suckers.” She untangled the earrings
from a silk scarf in the bottom of her bag.  As she slipped them onto her ears,
she looked at Danny standing by the window, studying the bikes in the parking
lot below. She could almost read his mind as he feasted his eyes on the
smorgasbord of chrome and leather and steel, and saw his fingers twitch.

Danny watched the owners of the bikes adjusting,
polishing, checking the prized machines engines the same way he always did. His
fingers itched to feel the cold leather and polished chrome of the handlebars,
the hard seat that, over time, had molded to the shape of his backside–the
vibration of the engine throbbing against his thighs. As he watched the rhythm
of a cloth move over the frame he could almost taste the metallic smell of the
polish, breathe in the oily fumes of the exhaust.

He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender as he
turned around, and smiled. “No, I’m not. You and I are going to have a nice
dinner away from here, and move on to dessert, later.” He ran his fingers
through his hair, and grinned. “Get a move on woman. I’m starving.”

* * *

They drove five miles west to a Perkins Restaurant on
84 where a recently vacated booth by a window was hastily cleared and wiped
clean. The hostess handed them menus while clean placemats, napkins and
utensils were placed on the table in front of them along with tall glasses of
iced water with straws hygienically encased in tissue-paper. Nicola took a long
sip and perused the menu.

The waitress materialized with steaming cups of coffee
and as she headed to the kitchen with their order, she glanced at her watch.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Nicola said as she slid
from the booth and headed for the restroom.

*

He watched as she maneuvered her way around people and
tables, her slender legs encased in body-hugging jeans that showed the outline
of her well-shaped rump; the fitted top that showed just enough cleavage to
turn men’s heads.

The way she swaggers when she walks she knows every
red-blooded male in the room is watching, stripping her naked with their eyes.
These bitches are all the same- they open their legs to any man who fancies
them.

He gritted his teeth, his venom palpable.

*

Nicola pushed past chairs and people, looking around,
searching, scrutinizing the faces of other diners. Even though she had nothing
to base her fears on, she had an overwhelming sense of something menacing. When
she sat down, she shivered.

“Are you cold?” Danny asked. Neither had brought a
jacket from the car and the air-conditioning, turned up to cope with the crowd
of people, was cool.

“No. I just had the strangest feeling that I was being
watched,” she said.

Danny’s eyes scanned the room trying to find the
reason for her unease. The row of booths that lined the walls were separated by
high backs, so he couldn’t see who was sitting in most of them- but the ones he
could see gave him no cause for alarm.

“Do you want me to take a walk around the restaurant
and have a look?” he said and rose too his feet.

Nicola grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him back
down. “How would you know what to look for?”

Danny nodded. “You’re probably right. In a room full
of people how would you know who the bad guys were?” Then added, “Did you see a
blue car in the parking lot like the one you saw before?”

“No, I checked on our way in. And, I’ve been watching
cars arrive and leave.”

“Did you see anyone who seemed the least bit
suspicious?”

“No. They’re mainly all families and couples and
groups of teenagers. There are a couple of people sitting alone at the counter,
but they seem pretty innocuous.”

The waitress placed their meal on the table and they
lapsed into an uneasy silence as they concentrated on their food. When the
dishes were cleared and their cups filled with fresh coffee, Danny took the
opportunity to excuse himself and headed off in the direction of the restroom.
He wandered down one side of the room, casually glancing at diners as he
passed. On the way back, he walked around the other side, weaving around
tables, scanning faces.

“Did you see anything?” Nicola asked when he slid into
the seat opposite.

Danny shook his head. “No. Not really. A couple of
unsavory looking bikers in a booth at the back, but aside from that, I didn’t
see anyone I could say caused me alarm.”

When they left the restaurant, Danny stopped to
inspect a couple of tricked up Harleys parked near the entrance. Through the
window, the bikers, wearing T-shirts emblazoned with a club insignia, and red
and white bandannas on their heads, sat watching, ready for action if uninvited
flesh dared to touch sacred chrome.

Later that night he lay awake waiting for his mind to
empty of dreams that had no application to the waking day. Through the open
window he could hear the cawing of seagull down by the dock, a radio playing a
tune he felt he should know–but couldn’t remember. He looked at the figure
sleeping soundly beside him, snoring softly through partially open lips, her
face held the guile and innocence of a child. He brushed a lock of hair from
her face, then leaned down and kissed her.

‘I love you, Nicola Madison,’ he whispered.

TWENTY-EIGHT

No sooner were we in the door
than Chartreuse and Louanna came hurrying to meet us.

“Hi girls, how are you doing
today?” I asked.

Chartreuse was beaming like a Tom-cat on heat at a cat
show when she said,” I’m doin’ real good, Bee.”

“What’s all the excitement about?” Rosie asked.

Louanna could hardly contain herself.  “We’ve got some
news for you, Hon!” She grabbed hold of Rosie’s arm and guided her down the
room.

Chartreuse and I followed them to where their bags
were lying on a couple of chairs.

“Would you mind moving,” she asked a man and a woman
in the chairs beside theirs. The woman graciously moved further down the row.
The man looked around, and stayed where he was. A woman on the other side
offered her seat.

“Sit yourself down, we got something to show you,”
Chartreuse said.

As I turned to sit down, I accidentally knocked the
newspaper out of the hands of the man who a moment earlier, almost gave up his
seat–but didn’t. The newspaper went sprawling across the floor, spilling pages
in every direction.

I got down on my hands and knees
as I apologized and tried to assemble the pages in some sort of order while the
man stood with his hands on his hips, glaring down at me. I smiled another
apology and handed the jumbled pages back. “Sorry,” I said, again.

He snatched the newspaper out of
my hand and marched down the room to the empty chair beside Linda. He glared at
me. I glared back. I said I was sorry, what more does he want…? Blood!

As the man shook open the
newspaper, he bumped Linda in the shoulder causing her to drop the magazine she
was reading. When she reached down to pick up the magazine, she elbowed him so
hard he almost fell off the chair. Whoops, sorry, her smile said, but he didn’t
notice the grin on her face when she looked down the room to where I was
sitting.  You go girl, I thought.

Chartreuse did some glaring of her own then her face
broke into a broad grin as she turned and said, “We’ve got something to show
you.”

Louanna shuffled around inside her bag and removed a
couple of photographs. When she handed one each to Rosie and me, she had a grin
so wide she looked like she’d eaten the proverbial canary.

I couldn’t bear to look at myself in live, living
color wearing
that
outfit.

“Whachoo think, Bee?” Chartreuse’s voice drifted in
through my denial haze. I knew there was no getting around it. I steeled my
resolve and looked at the picture, through squinty, half-open eyes, hoping it
wouldn’t look too bad. “What is this?” I opened my eyes, moved the photograph
closer then moved it away, holding it at arms length.

“It’s an ultrasound, Bubbie,” Rosie said.

I scrunched up my eyes and
peered at the photograph. “Is this an ultrasound of your boob, Chartreuse?”

“Hell, no. Look closer, Bee, it’s much mo’ better ‘n
that.”

“Much mo’ better,” Louanna agreed. She looked at her
friend, and added, “Although that would be som’ um, wouldn’t it, Treuse?”

“This is way better than that,” Chartreuse said,
grinning.

I scrutinized the scan, turning
it this way and that.

“This looks like an ultrasound
of a…. fetus?” Rosie said as she looked over my shoulder at ultrasonic image in
my hand and then scrutinized the copy she was holding. “Don’t you think so,
Bee?”

I looked closely and tried to make sense of the hazy
lines. “Is that what this is?”

Louanna, suddenly struck dumb, could only manage a
nod, her eyes tearing up.

“Are you going to have a baby?” I asked.

Chartreuse grabbed hold of her
sister and jumped up and down. “She sure is,” she squealed. When she realized
what she was doing she stopped and gave her a gentle pat on the stomach. “Sorry
Louanna, is you alright, girl?”

Louanna brushed her hand away. “I’m fine, Treuse, Now
don’t you go making a fuss, girl. It’s not like I hain’t had no babies before.”

“This is great news. When is the baby due, Louanna?” I
said.

Her teeth sparkled, her cheeks bulged like a chipmunk
storing acorns; the flesh of her neck jingled. “Babies!” Chartreuse corrected.

“No!” I said. “Not twins!”

Louanna nodded. “The doctor said she could hear two
tiny heartbeats.”

“Why, Louanna, that’s wonderful,” Rosie gave her a
hug.

I wrapped my arms around her and added my
congratulations. “I’m so pleased for you and Shaylon.”

“How far along are you?”

“Nine weeks. They’re just little, itty bitty tings.”
She ran her hand over her belly and said, “Didn’t you girls notice I bin
puttin’ on weight?”

I tried to keep a polite smile on my face.

“Honey, you bin puttin’ on weight since you come fresh
out of our momma’s belly,” Chartreuse joked, good humouredly.

“Well, now I can tell everyone its jest baby fat.”
Louanna reached into her bag and withdrew a large box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts
and shoved them at me. “Here, Bee, have a doughnut.”

As the box was half empty, I declined. “There’s only a
couple left and since you’re eating for three, you’d better have them,
Louanna.”