Janet McNulty - Mellow Summers 03 - An Apple a Day Keeps Murder Away Read online

  “Look, I’ll call Tiny in the morning. He can help me break into the motel,” I said.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” said Jackie.

  I hoped I did as well.

  Chapter 4

  I woke the next morning a bit earlier than normal. The coffee had already brewed. We recently bought one of those programmable coffee makers. I relished the aroma. I filled my cup of coffee and drank it quickly.

  Aunt Ethel shuffled into the kitchen. She wore baby blue pajamas with pink, bunny slippers. I’m not joking. That lady loved her bunny slippers. I handed her a cup of coffee.

  “Nonfat mocha caramel creamer, please,” said Aunt Ethel.

  “We only have half and half,” replied Jackie.

  “I never drink that stuff,” said Aunt Ethel.

  “Then I guess you’re drinking your coffee plain,” snapped Jackie.

  “Mellow, be a dear and get me some of my favorite creamer,” Aunt Ethel said to me.

  “Mel has someplace to be,” quipped Jackie, “And half and half is your only choice.” She plopped the half and half carton on the counter next to my aunt.

  “How can you possibly have anywhere to be?” demanded Aunt Ethel.

  “There’s something I need to take care of,” I told her.

  “But I came all this way for a visit,” pleaded my aunt, “You can’t just leave me here.”

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Ethel,” I said. “But I have somewhere to be. We’ll meet up for breakfast in a couple hours at the local Denny’s. Jackie will take you.”

  I felt Jackie burn me with lasers from the glare she gave me. She didn’t appreciate being left alone with my aunt. I mouthed the word “sorry” to her when Aunt Ethel looked away.

  I headed out the door and got in my car. Before I pulled out of the parking lot I gave Tiny a call. He answered on the second ring. “Tiny? Mel. I need you to meet me at the Sander’s Motel.”

  “Why?” asked Tiny.

  “You’re going to help me break into the room I was found in.”

  “Bad idea,” said Tiny. “There will be cops all over that place.”

  “Then I suggest you find a way to take care of them. I’m headed there right now.”

  “Mel—”

  I hung up. I’d hear about it later from him, but I knew he wouldn’t leave me hanging. No way was Tiny going to let me break into that motel on my own.

  I pulled out onto the main road and made my way to the uglier side of town.

  I parked down the street from the motel hoping that my car would be less noticeable there. Tiny waited for me as I walked up to the motel. He motioned me over behind some bushes.

  “What’s this all about?” he asked.

  “I need to get into the room I was found in,” I said. “I’m hoping it will jog my memory.”

  “This goes against what Calvin told you do,” said Tiny.

  “Then let’s not get caught,” I said.

  “I have Sombrero on lookout,” said Tiny. He waved me over to the door to the room. Locked. I figured it would be. Tiny pulled out a lock pick, jiggled it a bit in the lock, and pushed the door open. We crawled underneath the crime scene tape and shut the door.

  “No lights,” said Tiny as I went to turn on a lamp. “The less we disturb the better.”

  I did as he asked.

  “Hey you guys,” said Rachel as she popped in. “Breaking and entering—that’s a new one for you, Mel.”

  Tiny turned around and nearly jumped when he saw Rachel.

  “You see me because I want you too,” said Rachel. “And because you’ve been hanging around Mel enough for her skills to rub off on you.”

  “You’re kinda transparent,” said Tiny.

  “Yeah, well, you can’t have everything,” said Rachel.

  “Guys, can we save the chit chat for later? We don’t have much time,” I said.

  They agreed. We each took a different part of the room. The blood spot on the carpet was still there. It showed signs of someone trying to clean it up, but a big brown spot still remained. I wandered around trying to remember what I did after waking up.

  I went to the phone. I remembered wanting to call Jackie when the cop busted in. But nothing else came back to me. Tiny checked under the bed for anything that might have been knocked under there. He pulled out a small bit of plastic. It looked like a cap of some kind.

  He held it out to me. I took it and studied it. It didn’t help me remember anything. I didn’t know what it went to.

  “Nothing,” I said. “I don’t get it. I had hoped that coming back here would help me remember what happened.”

  “Sometimes you can’t force it,” said Tiny.

  “Mel, over here,” called Rachel from the bathroom.

  Tiny and I both walked into the bathroom. Rachel pointed at something in the sink. I picked it up and held it close to take a good look at it. It was a button with a star on it. Still nothing.

  “Sorry,” I said handing it to Tiny, “Nothing.”

  It happened quickly. A mental image of the button close to my face appeared in my brain still attached to a blue shirt. Flashes of a struggle popped in my mind. It was a jumbled mess and made no sense. Eventually, my head cleared.

  I sat scrunched on the cold, tile floor of the bathroom. Both Tiny and Rachel looked at me concerned.

  “You remembered something,” said Rachel.

  I didn’t know what I remembered. It still remained a puzzle. “It’s still a mess,” I said.

  “Well, what did you see?” asked Rachel.

  “The button attached to a blue shirt,” I replied, “And images of a fight. But I don’t know who I was fighting with or why.”

  “Well, it’s a start,” said Tiny. His phone rang. He answered it and hung up seconds later. “Cop on the way.”

  We ran to the door, but the sound of a car pulling up outside stopped us. Rachel stood in the window. “Hey, it’s the detective,” she said.

  Not good. The one person I didn’t want to run into was him. Especially since he had ordered me to stay out of trouble and here I was getting into mischief. “We need a distraction, Rachel,” I said.

  Rachel disappeared. Within seconds Detective Shorts’ car started revving its engine. The headlights flashed on and off and the loud honking of the horn filled the entire area. Annoyed, Detective Shorts ran to his car.

  Tiny and I opened the door and squeezed under the yellow tape. We ran down the side of the building and had just gone around the corner when I heard, “Miss Summers!”

  He saw us. Guiltily, I walked toward him with Tiny close behind. The detective’s car still went crazy making enough noise to wake the residents of a cemetery. Rachel sat in the driver’s seat laughing at Detective Shorts’ efforts to get inside. Knowing that the jig was up I signaled for her to stop. Suddenly, the car fell completely silent.

  Detective Shorts composed himself not sure of what to make of the situation. “What are you two doing here?”

  “Out for a stroll,” answered Tiny.

  Detective Shorts gave him the evil eye. Of course he didn’t believe us. “And I told you to stay home,” he said to me.

  “I couldn’t just stay cooped up hoping that my memory came back,” I said, “So I came here hoping I might remember something.”

  “And did you remember anything?” he asked.

  “Nothing much,” I said, “Just a button on some guy’s blue shirt.”

  “Do you remember what was happening or who the guy was?”

  “No. I can’t put a face to it,” I said. “It’s still all fuzzy.”

  Detective Shorts pursed his lips. He knew I held something back.

  A car pulled into the parking lot and parked beside his.

  “Oh no,” said Detective Shorts. “Whatever you do, stay quiet.”

  A middle aged man in an expensive suit hopped out of the car. He looked fit for someone who was quite a bit older than me. He did not look happy. In fact, he looked down right angry at se
eing me. I hoped he wasn’t who I thought he was.

  “Detective,” he said, “What is going on here? What is she doing here?”

  “Mr. District Attorney,” grumbled Detective Shorts, “She is here at my discretion.”

  “Really? You realize she is a prime suspect in a murder?”

  “What murder?” said Detective Shorts growing irritated. “You know as well as I that there is no body.”

  “Yet.”

  “And until there is, Miss Summers is allowed her freedom. You are aware of the signed writ that her lawyer has.”

  “So I am,” said the D.A. He glared at me.

  I suddenly hated him. I didn’t do anything and he didn’t know who I was but had already decided on my guilt. Jerk.

  “So why is she here?” asked the D.A.

  “I don’t like him,” said Rachel to me. By the way everyone ignored her, I could tell that she only allowed me to see and hear her. “Should I steal his car?”

  I shook my head trying to appear normal. Tiny caught it. His unspoken question told me what he thought.

  “It would be fun. And serves him right,” Rachel persisted.

  “No,” I hissed out the side of my mouth.

  “You say something, Miss Summers?” asked the District Attorney.

  “No,” I replied.

  “Miss Summers is here because I had thought that perhaps revisiting this place when she was arrested would help her remember something,” said Detective Shorts stepping in.

  “And has she?”

  “Unfortunately no.”

  “And what is he doing here?”

  “Tiny is here because Miss Summers wanted a friend. I saw no problem with it,” said Detective Shorts.

  “That’s the problem with you detectives,” said the District Attorney, “You don’t think.” He turned and went back to his car. Before he took one step, Rachel kicked him hard in the behind.

  “Jerk,” she said. “I don’t like you.”

  The D.A. turned back around to face us. “Who did that?”

  “Did what?” asked Tiny. “No one did anything.”

  “Don’t give me that,” said the D.A.

  “Mr. Harrow,” said Detective Shorts, “No one here did anything. Now, please leave so that I can continue my investigation.”

  Mr. Harrow huffed in anger. He stalked off. He got in his car, started the engine, and sped off.

  “Jason Harrow,” said Detective Shorts, “He is a good prosecuting attorney, but has too much ambition. And when he sets his sights on someone, he does not back off. Unfortunately for you, Miss Summers, you are his target.

  “Now, go home, both of you. I won’t cover for you again. And if you remember anything, I suggest you tell your lawyer first because if you tell me directly, then I am obligated to tell Mr. Harrow. But your lawyer can tell me and manage to keep Mr. Harrow from finding out. For a while at least. Understand?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “And you,” Detective Shorts pointed at Tiny, “Don’t enable her. Stay out of trouble.”

  He approached his car slowly before getting in the driver’s seat. Before we knew it, he had left.

  “That lawyer won’t get far,” said Rachel appearing beside both Tiny and I.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Well, most people don’t get very far when you puncture their tires with a screwdriver,” replied Rachel. She flipped a screwdriver in her hands.

  “Tires,” I said.

  “Yeah. I poked all four,” said Rachel. “Imagine how mad he’ll be when he notices that all four tires on his car are flat.” She snickered to herself with pride.

  Tiny cackled. Rachel had just gone up in his book. This little episode more than earned her his respect. Even I chuckled some. That attorney deserved it.

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  Tiny walked me to my car. No one was letting me do anything alone. I figured the last thing they wanted was for me to disappear again.

  “Now you go straight home,” he said.

  “Can’t,” I replied, “I have to meet my Aunt Ethel for breakfast.”

  “Really? Give her a kiss for me,” said Tiny with a smile.

  “That ought to set her off,” said Rachel. “I’ll catch you all after a bit. Got business in the spirit world.” She vanished.

  It was only eight in the morning. I made my way to the Denny’s on Eighth Street. I wasn’t a big Denny’s fan, but it was a restaurant my Aunt Ethel would recognize. She never ate at local places.

  I parked my car in the already crowded parking lot. What was it about Denny’s and breakfast? People must love a good breakfast in the morning. Though their Grand Slams weren’t bad.

  I walked in and greeted the lady by the door. “Has an elderly lady come in yet? She wears pearls, a feather hat, and scarf.”

  The woman’s expression told me that Aunt Ethel had indeed arrived. She must have already been causing trouble.

  “This way,” said the lady. She led me to a table by a window.

  “Mellow, you made it. For a moment I thought you had decided to leave me here in this noisy place.”

  I took a seat across from her. I reached for the glass of water.

  “You should ask for a fresh one,” said Aunt Ethel, “By now that water probably tastes old.”

  “It’s fine,” I said.

  The waitress came for our order.

  “I’ll just have your Grand Slam. Scrambled. Bacon. Coffee,” I said without even looking at the menu. I didn’t feel like looking at a bunch of different menu items and spending an agonizing time trying to make up my mind.

  “I’ll have your item here. Make certain the fruit is fresh and that the yogurt is nonfat. Orange juice.”

  The waitress wrote it down and walked off. Her face told me Aunt Ethel struck a nerve. Telling the staff of a restaurant to make sure the food is fresh implies that you think they serve garbage.

  “Aunt Ethel, a little bit of fat and calories won’t hurt you,” I said.

  “Nonsense,” replied Aunt Ethel, “You should eat more fruit and less bacon. Though I must say you look a bit scrawny. Are you sure you’re eating enough? Maybe you should have asked for a double helping of bacon.”

  Typical Aunt Ethel. She would criticize you for not eating healthy and then encourage you to eat the very food she thought you should stay away from.

  “So what brings you here?” I asked.

  “I told you, Mellow. I thought I’d just drop by for a visit.”

  “From South Carolina?”

  “Well, I’ve been doing a lot of traveling,” said Aunt Ethel, “I’ve been to Massachusetts and Maine. And I’ve already done the Europe thing. Did I tell you I was planning on going to the Grand Canyon? You should come with me.”

  “I really can’t,” I said. “Classes start again in the fall and I need to save my money.”

  “You still hoping to be a director?”

  “I like making films.”

  “Yes, but you could do something more worthwhile,” said Aunt Ethel.

  “And why is making movies not worthwhile? I want to do my thing. And that was something my parents didn’t understand.”

  “Well, you know they love you. And you and Jackie can’t spend your whole lives together as roommates.”

  “Lay off Jackie, will you?”

  “But she told me to be happy with the food you have in the fridge. She doesn’t treat me with much respect.”

  “Maybe because you don’t treat her with any,” I said. “You’ve never liked her, but she has always been there for me. Give her a chance.”

  “And the people you hang out with, Mellow. They’re not the most likeable characters.”

  “I like them,” I said.

  “But you’re so much better than this.”

  “Aunt Ethel,” I said growing impatient, “No one chooses my friends for me.”

  I noticed a man sitting on the other end of the restaurant. He kept his face hidden, but se
emed to be staring at us. I glared back at him. When I did, he quickly looked away.

  “What is it, dear?” asked Aunt Ethel.

  “I think that man is watching us,” I said pointing out the stranger.

  Aunt Ethel glanced at him. The man now studied a menu. “Nonsense. You probably imagined it.”

  Our food arrived. The waitress placed more napkins on the table. It happened again. An image of someone holding a white cloth over my nose and mouth hit me. It only lasted for a few seconds, but must have been enough to make me practically faint.

  “Mellow dear, are you all right?” asked Aunt Ethel.

  “I’m fine,” I lied.

  “Are you sure? You look pale.”

  I had to give my aunt bonus points. She really sounded worried. “I’ll be fine,” I said.

  The waitress looked at me as though I might pass out at any time. I couldn’t blame her. “I’ll get you some more water,” she said.

  “I’m OK,” I repeated to my aunt.

  The worried look on her face told me that she didn’t believe me.

  We ate our breakfast in silence. There wasn’t much to say after I almost fainted. I barely tasted my food. My mind wandered everywhere. What were these images that kept popping into my head? What did they mean? How did it all fit together?

  I put my fork down when I realized that I had been sitting with it in the air while staring out the window. My Aunt Ethel looked at me with a mystified expression on her face.

  “I don’t think this area agrees with you, dear,” Aunt Ethel said.

  “I just have a lot on my mind,” I said evasively. I did not want to tell her that I had been missing for two days and was now suspect number one in a possible murder.

  “Hey!” Rachel’s appearance caused me to drop a forkful of food. “I just got back from the spirit world. Still no sign of any recently murdered ghost from this area. Either no one’s been killed or he just doesn’t care about it.”

  “What do you mean?” I whispered while Aunt Ethel ate her yogurt.

  “Some people aren’t concerned about seeking justice when they’re murdered,” said Rachel. “Our guy could be one of those.”

  Rachel glanced at the untouched bowl of fruit on the table and at my empty plate. She noted my pale face. Next thing I knew, the bowl slid across the table and stopped in front of me. “Here, you need more color in your life. Anyway, I’ve got things to do. I just wanted to keep you in the loop.” Rachel disappeared.