Dumpster Dicing (Bunco Biddies Book 1) Page 19

  Ethel answered after the third ring. “Janie?”

  “I hate to ask you this, dear. But, could you swing back by?”

  “Sure. Are you okay?”

  Janie scoffed. “Yes. I think I have worked something out about Edwin Newman and I need to bounce my theory off you before I pursue it.”

  Her friend’s voice became more high-pitched and rapid. “Oh, of course. Be right over. Happy to help. Hang tight.”

  Six minutes later, Ethel’s tell-tale rap-rappity-rap hit the back door. Janie yelled out, “Come on in.”

  She did and zipped into the living room, giving Mrs. Fluffy a quick pat before settling into one of the side chairs. “So, whatcha got?”

  Janie squiggled to face her. “All right. Hear me out. I understand this will seem absurd, but...”

  After she laid out all the evidence including the build, approximate age, hand odor, and knowledge of Sunset Acres, Janie peered into her fellow sleuth’s eyes. “Well? Am I nuts?”

  Ethel’s stone-faced reaction made Janie ponder if she thought so. But, after a minute, her friend’s eyebrows moved closer together and the wrinkles on her forehead deepened. “Hmmm. I’m not sure. It does add up. But I am not certain about the motive.”

  “That’s my quandry. I can imagine him stomping over and belting Edwin in the nose, but to murder him and systematically haul him off to be chopped up, much less deposited in our dumpster? Too bizarre. Unless he’s, you know...” She made a circling motion with her finger near her temple.

  “Oh, Bobby’s a weird duck, I’ll grant you that. Didn’t get Mildred’s social genes. But I agree, it doesn’t jive.”

  “So why would he threaten me—twice?”

  Ethel rose to pace. Janie wished like all get-out she could join her. Instead, she closed her eyes and listened until her friend’s footfall stopped.

  “He does possess a somewhat shady past. Someone could have hired him to threaten you.”

  “Yes, it has to be the answer.” Janie swung her foot around and whacked the outer edge on the coffee table. White, hot pain dashed up her calf. “Ow.”

  “Careful. Let me get you some ice.”

  Janie massaged the splint, as if it did any good. “No, I’m fine. Stupid foot.” She inhaled and relaxed her shoulders. “Do you think we should speak with Mildred? After all, she hasn’t seemed her cheery self.”

  Ethel lifted her shoulders to her ears. “Wouldn’t hurt. Wanna go now?”

  “Yes. If she’s home.”

  “At nine o’clock at night? Where else would she be?”

  “Even so, let’s call first.” Janie bent to grab her cell phone.

  “Uh-uh.” Ethel’s hand came down on top of hers. “That’ll give her a reason to back out. Come up with some sort of excuse why now is inconvenient. Element of surprise is best.”

  “Oooh, my mother is rolling in her grave right now.” Janie winked.

  Ethel returned the gesture. “Emily Post would slap our hands with a ruler.” She snatched her handbag. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Forty-TWO

  Rap-rappity-rap. They listened as Mildred’s footsteps came to the front door. “Who is it?”

  “Ethel, and Janie is with me. Mildred, sorry for popping in, but can we speak with you?”

  A worried seventy-year-old face peeked through the beveled glass panel flanking the door. It creaked open. “I guess. Though I am in my duster.”

  Ethel pushed her way in. “No need for formalities with friends.” She held the passage way wide for Janie to wobble in.

  Mildred waved her hand. “Janie, you sit in this chair by the bay window so you don’t have to hobble far. I’ll get us some iced water.” Her smile dissipated as she pivoted with hands clasped and scurried towards her kitchen.

  Ethel smirked and sat in the other chair. She leaned in and mouthed the word “nervous” to Janie then titled her head in the direction Mildred had disappeared.

  Janie nodded as she smoothed her pant leg over her cast.

  In a few minutes, their reluctant hostess entered with three glasses clinking on a tray. “Here we are, ladies.” She handed them each a glass wrapped in a flower-patterned paper napkin.

  Janie took a long sip as she waited for Mildred to be seated. She patted the metal peg-leg propped against the upholstered arm her chair. “Thanks. This contraption takes the stuffing out of you after a while.”

  “Good exercise I imagine.” Mildred gave her a taut smile. “Though it takes a bit of getting used to, I’m sure.”

  “Umm, but saves the arm pits.”

  The three shared an anxious chuckle.

  Janie set her glass on the coaster. “Mildred, I have been threatened twice now by a hooded man whose hands held the distinct odor of raw hamburger meat.”

  Mildred’s eyes darted between them. “Oh?”

  “Yes, and he fits Bobby’s general description, according to Ethel.”

  Ethel nodded. “Mildred, you have been acting strange since the funeral, and we are worried about you. Is there something pressing on your mind? Do you believe Bobby may have something to do with Edwin’s…er, demise?”

  Janie bit her lip. Ethel could be blunt at times. She expected Mildred to explode, defend her nephew, and ask them to kindly vacate her home. Instead, she whimpered and snatched a facial tissue.

  “Oh, my word. I don’t know. I just don’t know.” Soft sobbing commenced. Her two friends sat in silence until she composed herself.

  Janie sugared her tone. “Take your time, dear. We’re here to help.”

  Poopsy waddled in, the nose scab visible from a distance. She plopped at her mistress’s feet and lifted her mournful eyes.

  Janie’s heart tugged.

  Mildred dabbed her cheeks and in a wobbly voice, apologized for her breakdown. “I figured something gnawed at him. When he saw Poopsy here”—she reached down and stroked her pet’s fur with tenderness—“his face turned the color of a tomato stewing in a pot.”

  “Do you think...?”

  “Oh, good heavens, no. He’d never go that far. But I feared he’d do something. When you told me about Edwin Newman my heart nearly jumped out of my body. I had an inkling Bobby might be in the middle of this mess somehow.”

  Ethel scooted forward. “Did you confront him?”

  She wrapped the tissue through her fingers. “Not in so many words. But when I told him the news, his face changed. His jaw tightened, the same way Joe’s used to when Mom caught him doing something he shouldn’t.”

  “Joe is your brother?”

  “Yes, Bobby’s dad. He never did hold a job for long. Always hung out with shady men and went to bars instead of coming home. He skipped out on Bobby and his mom years ago. I always feared Bobby would follow in his footsteps. Apple doesn’t drop too far from the tree, does it?”

  Janie shook her head. “Often times not.”

  Ethel cleared her throat. “Did he say anything to you at all?”

  “Told me to mind my own business when I asked him what he...” She pushed her scrunched hankie to her mouth.

  “I see.”

  The tears began to trickle down once more. “I’m all he has now. His mom committed suicide right after he turned eighteen. Such a troubled youth. He’d mope in his room all the time. Then burst out the door and never tell me where he went. Oh, I’ve worn my knees out praying for that boy.”

  Janie patted the air with her hand as far as it could reach toward Mildred’s knee. “I’m sure God heard each one, dear.”

  Mildred sniffled. “He got into a rough crowd and they robbed a convenience store. Bobby only did three years since he didn’t have a weapon.”

  “Where was he incarcerated?”

  “Oh, up the road about an hour near College Station. Navasota, I think?”

  Ethel and Janie exchanged glances.

  “When he got out, I’d moved to Sunset Acres, so he stayed with me until he found a job.” She took a sip of her water. “I thought he’d been doing okay. Has a s
mall garage apartment and a used truck.”

  “Not a dark van?”

  “Huh? No. One of those small pick-ups. Green. Why?”

  Janie brushed the thought away. “Go on. You were saying?”

  “I’m sure you can understand. I didn’t want to slam the door on our friendship. So I didn’t pursue it.” Her lower lip began to shake again and her eyes shimmered.

  Janie wanted to get up, hop over, and hug her friend. She told her so.

  Mildred smiled for a brief moment and dabbed the tissue to her eyelids. “I should show you what I found in my trash can. I took the bag from kitchen bin outside before I left for Bunco because it had a tuna can in it from lunch and I didn’t want it to stink up my house. Anyway, I opened the garbage lid and there it lay.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll go get it.” She walked toward the bedrooms. After a couple of minutes, she came back clutching some dark cloth. She held the piece up.

  A black, hooded fleece jacket.

  Ethel gasped.

  “Bobby wore one just like this when he visited me.”

  Janie sat straight. “Today?”

  She bobbed her head. “Yes, he came for lunch on his break from the grocer’s but had to leave at 12:20 for some reason. Appeared to be in a hurry.”

  Ethel took the clothing into her hands. “And you are sure it’s his?”

  Mildred motioned for Ethel to take a whiff.

  Ethel’s eyes widened. “Oh, my word. Janie, it smells like hamburger juice.”

  Chapter Forty-THREE

  First they prayed with Mildred as she wept. Then Janie called Blake.

  “This doesn’t make sense.” His frustration blared through his gruff tone.

  “I understand. But...”

  Blake’s sigh through the receiver resembled a rush of wind signaling a storm approaching. “Be right over. Tell Mildred to hang tight.”

  Fifteen minutes later, he appeared on her stoop.

  She hung her head and stared at a spot on the carpet as she spoke. “Bobby’s been in trouble before.”

  “Yes, we pulled up his info. But he seems to be clean, now.” Blake’s tone softened as soon as he glimpsed her red-rimmed eyes and runny nose.

  Her damp eyelids lifted. “But is he? Maybe he hooked up with the wrong type again.”

  Blake crossed one leg over the other. “Hate to say it. but more likely than not, it’s true. Prison does very little to reform nowadays. A few turn their lives around, or have good intentions, but they are tossed back into society with little or no assistance and flounder like a fish flopping on a river bank. Gangs snatch them up and help them back into the swim. It’s like a community.”

  Janie shook her head. “Even if he’s the one who has been threatening me, which appears to be the case, I can’t fathom him murdering anyone. Can you?”

  Blake scratched his eyebrow. “He’s probably a messenger. My guess is he mouthed off at work about Edwin bonking Mildred’s pup in the nose and his ranting fell on some hard ears. They either paid him to be their delivery boy or pressured him into the job.”

  Ethel nodded several times in sequence. “Yes, I recall an episode on TV where...”

  “Not now, Ethel.” Janie shot her a stern, teacher-says-to-be-quiet expression.

  Blake’s mouth smirked for a spilt second before returning his attention to Mildred. “Do you think he’d speak with me?”

  Her chest rose and fell. “I’m not sure.”

  “What time does he get off tomorrow?”

  “Four, I think.”

  “Why don’t you have him drop by after work? Tell him you are in desperate need of his help. I’ll swing by in an unmarked vehicle. Perhaps if he is out of his element, he’ll be more willing to be forthcoming as to his recent activities.”

  * * *

  Janie sat in Blake’s car for a good fifteen minutes as they discussed the case, out of the earshot of well-meaning Ethel. “You are a kind man, Blake. You have every reason to storm in and arrest him now.”

  “Not really. We need to be sure.”

  “Hmm, yes. And nothing about this case is sure so far, right?”

  “Nope. Well, better get you inside.”

  Janie frowned as she waved good-bye and then double-bolted her front door. Hobbling back to the couch, she perched on the edge and drummed her fingers on the arm rest. The pieces of the puzzle were not fitting. A jagged edge of one piece of evidence protruded too much and a curve in another didn’t seem to fit.

  First piece. If Bobby had been solicited to help, how much? Did he drive the dark, beat-up van? Did he steal it? Or had they only coerced him into bullying Janie because his aunt played Bunco with her?

  She shook her head. No, He had to be more involved. Someone told Edwin’s killers—and yes, there had to be at least two to drag a body, chop it up and bring it back—about the layout of Sunset Acres and the timetable for the trash pickup. That someone had to be Bobby.

  And what of the Eduardo Lopez connection? He most likely resembled his dad. Is that what freaked Edwin? No, he didn’t have a scar on his face. Still, it’s no coincidence the ex-con ended up in this area. Then again, the attorney might be the common denominator. Perhaps not. That didn’t quite jive either.

  What about the initials L.W. Marjorie scrawled on the paper napkin? They had to stand for Lenny Weber, who had threatened Edwin in prison. How did he fit into the picture?

  Finally, did the fact Edwin had been mistaken for Edward Norman have anything to do with his demise? Had Lenny thought he put the screws to Norman instead? When the truth came out, had that misidentification been the catalyst which led to Edwin’s gruesome demise?

  Her head hurt.

  Janie wobbled down the hall and took a long, steaming shower to ease the tension as she perched on her bath chair. Then, wrapped in her favorite cozy robe, she fixed herself a cup of chamomile tea and settled in to watch one of the old black and white TV sitcoms on cable. After a while, the combination eased her into sleepiness. With a deep yawn, she eased her way to her bed and slipped between the covers.

  She dreamed she ran down a dark alley to the assisted living center, chased by Bobby hanging from the van as he grabbed her hair with one of Edwin’s severed hands. Following in pursuit, Blake kept making wrong turns as the Bunco Biddies, all wearing black hoodies, hid in the carports and screamed.

  With a gasp, Janie jolted from her bed before her conscious brain reminded her about the bum foot. Down she tumbled in pain. She sat on her behind on the floor and sniveled. Mrs. Fluffy bent forward from the twisted bedspread and licked her mistress’ ear.

  She batted the cat away and pouted. Arggh. Janie slammed her fist against the bed. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for this sleuthing stuff after all. What had she been thinking?

  Remorse set in as Mrs. Fluffy gave her a questioning mew. Janie twisted around to gather her whiskered companion into her arms. The sympathetic purrs lulled her into a calmer state.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie pie.” She snuggled her face into the kitty’s fur. “Oh. Mrs. Fluffy. What am I doing? Trying to keep Jack’s memory alive? Or make myself seem important?”

  Mrs. Fluffy gave her a chortle.

  Janie set the animal down and rolled to the side to rub her sore backside. “And look where it’s landed me. Literally. I feel as if God has just spanked me.”

  She stretched for her metal contraption and used the handle-like a cane to ease herself up. With several groans, humphs, and a few hops, she righted herself and scooted back into bed.

  As if lightening had struck, a thought entered her head. Bobby and Edwin, both newly out of prison, had to do that as well. There lay the connection.

  She sat straight up and grinned.

  Of course. Now she understood. The pieces snapped together.

  She texted Blake. Breakthrough in case. Pick me up before you head to Mildred’s tomorrow. Will explain then.

  Chapter Forty-FOUR

  With Blake’s hand hovering to catch
her, Janie limped to the car idling in the alley. “Are you sure this is wise for you to come? If he catches a glimpse of you, he may bolt.”

  “That’s a chance we’ll have to take now, right?” She brought her leg around and placed her splinted heel on the floorboard.

  Blake closed the door and dashed around to the driver’s side. He got in, clicked his seat belt, and glimpsed in her direction. “So, tell me.”

  “Not until I see Bobby’s reaction to me when we walk in.”

  “Jannniiie?”

  His questioning tone reminded her of her second-grade teacher when she’d eaten half of the paper paste. She clamped her lips together and stared out the passenger side window.

  He huffed into his collar and put the car in gear. “I have a bad feeling about this.” He reached for his phone. “I’m calling the station for a patrol officer to stand by, just in case.”

  “I doubt we’ll need that. I think Bobby will cave. He’s a tadpole treading in an ocean of sharks.”

  Blake exhaled through his nostrils. “This is against my better judgment, not to mention protocol.”

  She extended her hands out to her sides, elbows tucked to her waist. “We’re only going to have a friendly chat with a wayward young man. Nothing official.”

  “Right.”

  As they circled the block, a green truck sitting front of Mildred’s garden home came into view. Blake turned to the left and entered through the alley. He let Janie out and parked in one of the empty carport slots. She waited, patting the perspiration from her brow with a hankie.

  With a jerk of his chin, he mouthed in her direction. “Ready?”

  She raised and lowered her head quickly several times.