Gertrude, Gumshoe Cozy Mystery Series Box Set: Books 1, 2, and 3 Page 2

  She squinted as she stepped back out into the sunshine and was pleased to see Norman there waiting for her. She hoisted herself into the van and then pulled her walker in after her. “I thought you weren’t going to wait.”

  “Well, truth be told, I was getting a little worried. You were in there a long time. I wasn’t sure how much time someone could spend in a closed nightclub. Where we headed now, the liquor store?”

  “Don’t be silly. Back to the trailer park, Hoke!”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Yes, Norm.”

  3

  Sophia opened the door before Gertrude could knock. “Did you find her?”

  “Where is Tornado?”

  “He’s up there,” she said, pointing to the top of the fridge.

  “Oh good. No, I didn’t find her. And I didn’t find any leads yet. Maybe it is time to call the police.”

  “No, don’t! Please don’t!” Sophia cried. “Our mother said that if anyone finds out we’re here alone, the cops will put us in foster care, and we’ll get split up.”

  “Hmm. Well, I think that might be a slight exaggeration. All right, you guys watch television or something, and I’ll look around here for some leads.”

  “We don’t have cable.”

  “OK, well, then read a book.”

  “Carl can’t read.”

  “Then read him a book! I’m trying to think here.”

  Gertrude went into the kitchen and looked around again. She spotted some unopened mail and picked it up. This probably won’t tell me anything, but it could be interesting, she thought. Most of it was junk mail, but she did find a bank statement. She opened it and quickly learned that Lori could definitely afford a babysitter. Her statement showed regular five hundred dollar deposits. She must be getting some serious tips!

  “Did you find anything?” Sophia reappeared.

  “Nope,” Gertrude said, shoving the statement under a brown envelope offering a fake key and promising a new car. “Now skedaddle! I’m trying to work here.”

  Sophia looked hurt, but she did leave. Gertrude took the statement back out. There wasn’t much other activity. An occasional cash withdrawal and those mysterious giant deposits. Apparently, Lori didn’t use a debit card and didn’t write checks, at least not with this account. Gertrude looked around the top of the bar for other bank statements but didn’t see any. She opened some drawers and rifled through them, but most of them were nearly empty. Gertrude could hardly stand the sight. So she gave up on the kitchen and meandered through the living room, looking around and wondering how anyone could live with so little stuff, and for that matter, why anyone would live with so little stuff when they had more than ten grand in checking.

  Gertrude peeked into a small bedroom the kids apparently shared. Sophia was indeed reading to Carl. Gertrude moved on down the hall, past the bathroom and into the master bedroom. She found an unmade full-size bed and piles of clothes, which she looked over for feathers and sequins, but found none.

  Something caught hold of her then, alone in this stranger’s bedroom. It was like an itch she just had to scratch, a thirst she just had to quench, an irrepressible drive to figure this thing out. Suddenly, she was bitten by the mystery bug, and it had its teeth in deep.

  She turned to her right and started with the first thing she saw, which was a vacuum cleaner. She took out the bag and emptied its contents onto the floor. She sifted through them meticulously and found absolutely nothing helpful. (She did find two Legos, which she set aside for Carl.) Then she moved onto the next thing to her left, which was a laundry hamper. Through the clothes she went, through every crease, every stain, every pocket. Nothing. No incriminating blood. No wads of cash. Nothing.

  In this way, Gertrude went through the entire room, methodically and exhaustively. When she got to the bed, she shoved her short arms between the mattress and the box spring and felt around the length of the bed. Near the foot, her fingers grazed the edge of something that felt like paper. She couldn’t quite get a hold of it though, so she stood up, turned around, and pushed at the mattress with her butt. It didn’t move. She leaned forward, and then, pushing off her walker, she slammed her hind end into the mattress, and it slid off the box spring about eight inches. That would be enough. She reached in and grabbed what turned out to be a large, flat, brown envelope. She pulled it out and then hopped up onto the bed. She gingerly reached into the envelope and pulled out its contents ...

  Yikes! Gertrude’s hand flew over her eyes. Then she peeked out through her fingers. There were naked people. Two of them. And the man looked a lot like the owner of Mattawooptock’s only water park.

  She flipped the top picture over. Two more naked people underneath it. Same woman, who she was starting to assume was Lori. Different man, and she didn’t recognize him.

  Third photo. Same woman. Different man. Gertrude gasped. This man was none other than Lance Pouliot—the Mattawooptock Mayor. Mattawooptock’s married mayor. Gertrude had seen his wife on the local news, and this wasn’t her.

  Deep in her soul, Gertrude held a special reserve of disdain for Lance Pouliot. A few years back, he had tried to burn down her church, which also served as a homeless shelter. Not only had he gotten away with it, he had gotten himself elected as mayor, in part by running on a platform that promised to shut down the town’s homeless shelter, which of course, thus far he had failed to do.

  She stared at the naked woman’s face. If this is Lori, she is a busy lady!

  Gertrude slid the photos back into their envelope, and then zipped the envelope into her walker pouch, a floral-patterned bag that hung off the front of her walker. It served as her handbag, and its contents were putting a significant strain on the pouch’s seams.

  She left the bedroom and called out, “Sophia? I’ve got to have to call the CAP bus again. You stay here and watch Tornado and Carl.”

  “Where are you going?”

  Gertrude ignored her. She called for a ride and then walked back to stand in front of her trailer. It was just after noon and had turned out to be a beautiful day. Her stomach rumbled, and she realized she hadn’t eaten anything lately. She rummaged around in her walker pouch until she found some yogurt-covered raisins and a breath mint. This would have to do for now. She was looking for a missing woman. Creature comforts could wait.

  The van pulled up in front of her trailer, and Gertrude was dismayed to find that Norman’s shift was over. He’d been replaced by Andrea, a power-tripping, by-the-book ex-librarian.

  Gertrude climbed into the van and smiled at the man sitting in the back seat. “Hi, Tiny,” she said.

  He nodded.

  “Where to?” Andrea asked.

  Gertrude had to think fast. She needed to go to the water park, but she couldn’t think of a way to make this sound like a necessity, especially since the water park was likely closed for the season.

  “G’s Automotives,” Gertrude said and looked out the window.

  “G’s Automotives?” Andrea turned around and looked at Gertrude. “Why do you need to go there?”

  “None of your business,” Gertrude tried.

  “It is my business!” Andrea waved a clipboard at Gertrude. “I have to log all your stops, and stops have to be necessary, or you don’t get a ride. It’s right in the rules!”

  Gertrude looked her in the eye and tried to be a good liar. “Why else would someone go to see a mechanic, Andrea? I need to pick up my car. Then I won’t need to ride around with you anymore!”

  “You have a car?” Tiny said from the backseat. He sounded amazed.

  Gertrude pressed her lips together and looked out the window.

  4

  G had his head under a hood when Gertrude walked in. She stood by his front counter, patiently waiting for him to notice she was there—for about two seconds. Then she loudly cleared her throat.

  He looked up. “Oh, hey, Gertrude,” he said, sounding less than excited to see her.

  “I need your help,�
�� she said.

  She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw him grimace.

  He headed toward her, wiping his hands off on a rag. “Need help moving another cast iron clawfoot tub?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think I have room for another one. I just need a ride to the water park.”

  “You mean the small, weird one just outside of town?” The “water park” was actually an average-sized pool surrounded by inflated slides and bouncy houses with hoses hooked up to them. And a few arcade games inside a small adjacent building. It was the kind of establishment that could only survive in a tiny, out-of-the-way town like Mattawooptock. In rural central Maine, the place was thriving.

  Gertrude nodded.

  “OK, can I ask why you need to visit a closed water park?”

  “I need to talk to the guy who owns it.”

  “Silas?”

  Gertrude shrugged. “I guess so.”

  “What do you want with Silas?”

  “It’s personal.”

  G stared at her for several seconds. It looked as if he was trying to figure her out. But then apparently he gave up because he sighed and said, “OK, fine. But does he live at the water park?”

  “Yes,” Gertrude said. She had no idea.

  Gertrude followed G out to his truck. He opened the passenger door for her and then pulled a milk crate out of the bed of the truck. He flipped it over and placed it at her feet so she could climb into his truck. This was not the first time G had given Gertrude a ride.

  About five miles and ten minutes later, G pulled into the empty parking lot of WaterWoopPark.

  “I don’t think he lives here, Gertrude. The place looks deserted.”

  Gertrude put her hand on the door handle. “Would you mind waiting for a few minutes?”

  G looked at her incredulously. “Gertrude, there’s no one here!”

  “I know, I’m just going to have a look around.”

  G looked through the windshield at the tall wooden fence that encircled the park. “It’s a closed building and a closed fence. I don’t think there’s much to see.”

  “I know. Can you help me out?”

  G sighed. But he got out of the truck and walked around it to place the milk crate. He helped her out and then watched her walk toward the door. She pulled on the door handle. It was locked.

  “Satisfied?” G asked from behind, still standing by his truck.

  Gertrude looked up. “Can you feel the top of the doorframe, G?”

  He came up and stood beside her, and then looked down at her skeptically. “You mean, feel for a key?”

  “What else would I want you to feel for?”

  “This is a business, Gertrude. He’s not going to leave a key, even if this is Mattawooptock.”

  “Would you please do it? Or go get my crate so I can do it?”

  G sighed again and halfheartedly reached up and felt the top of the frame. Then he held up his empty hand. “See? Nothing.”

  Gertrude stepped back and surveyed the scene in front of her.

  G waited patiently for a minute and then asked, “Can we go?”

  “There!” Gertrude triumphed, pointing at a rock pressed up against the building, several feet from the door.

  “There what?”

  “There. That rock.”

  “What rock?” G snapped. There were many rocks.

  “That one,” Gertrude said, without pointing. “It’s different from the others.”

  G stared at the rocks at the base of the building. “I don’t see it.”

  Gertrude heaved a frustrated sigh and took two steps toward the rock and pointed with her chin. “That one.”

  “So I guess you’re expecting me to pick that rock up?”

  She just looked at him.

  He walked over to the building and bent to retrieve a rock.

  “Not that one,” Gertrude said, exasperated, “that one.”

  G picked up a different rock. “This isn’t a rock,” he said.

  “I know. Flip it over.”

  He did. “I’ll be darned,” he said. There was a small compartment in the bottom of the false rock. He opened it, and removed a key.

  “Gimmee,” Gertrude said, holding her hand out toward him.

  “No,” G said, pulling it away from her eager clutch. “What are you going to do with it?”

  “What do you think?”

  G frowned. “You want to tell me why we’re breaking into a water park?”

  “We’re not breaking in. We have the key.”

  “Gertrude! You said you had to talk to Silas. He’s obviously not here. So let’s go. The man probably has a telephone, you know.”

  “Fine!” Gertrude snapped. “Why don’t you just leave. I can walk home.”

  G laughed. Gertrude never walked anywhere, let alone the five miles home. That would wear the tennis balls right off her walker. “I’m not leaving you here,” G said. “But I need you to tell me what we’re doing.”

  “We’re just going to take a look around, make sure Silas isn’t here.”

  “If he was here, wouldn’t he have come to the door by now?”

  “Not if he can’t.”

  G furrowed his brow. “Is something wrong with Silas?”

  “Don’t know. You won’t give me the key.”

  Looking exasperated, G walked to the door and unlocked it. Then, holding it open with one hand, he waved Gertrude in with the other. “Ladies first. Let’s hope there’s no alarm system.”

  “Yeah, right. Who would break into this place?” Gertrude asked as she entered the dark foyer. She immediately groped around the adjacent wall for a light switch.

  “Hang on. I’ve got a flashlight on my phone,” G said.

  Her fingers found the switch. “No need for one of those fancy doohickeys.”

  “You’re probably right,” G said, following her inside. “If you had a cell, I’d probably have to go on a lot more of these errands.”

  “Oh, stop it. You know you love feeling needed.”

  G didn’t respond.

  “At least I’m not asking you to babysit my cats again…. What’s that?” Gertrude asked.

  “What?” G asked.

  “That. The House of Balls.”

  “Um, it’s a house of balls,” G said.

  “I can see that. I can read. But what is a house of balls?” Gertrude was downright excited.

  “It’s just a big box full of balls. For kids to play in.”

  “Oh goodie!” Gertrude exclaimed and rushed over to the ladder.

  “Gertrude, don’t get in there. I might not be able to get you out!” G hurried after her.

  But she was already on the ladder. Then she froze. “Oh Mylanta!”

  “What?” G asked, but then followed her gaze and started. There was a woman in the house of balls. And she appeared to be very dead. Her face was colorless, and her chest, which was eerily still, had a bright red circular stain on it. As G stared, Gertrude jumped into the house of balls.

  “Gertrude, no!”

  Gertrude landed and instantly sank to her shins. She tried to pick up one short leg, but then the other leg sank and she toppled over sideways with a small yelp. She flailed her arms, looking absurdly like a chubby Raggedy Ann doll and then sat up with a giant smile on her face. “This is great!” she exclaimed.

  “Gertrude, get out of there! We need to call the police. And you’re going to get yourself in trouble. Get out of there!”

  “Oh, don’t get your knickers in a bunch. I’ll be right out. Just hang on a sec.” Gertrude slogged over to the body and peered closely at it, looking for something, anything, to connect Lance Pouliot to this dead body.

  “For the love of God, don’t touch her!”

  “It’s not the woman from the photos.”

  “What photos?” G asked.

  Gertrude felt around in the balls, searching for something, or someone, else.

  “That’s it. I’m calling the cops.” G didn’
t have a signal, so he left Gertrude alone in the balls and went outside to call the police. When he returned, Gertrude had miraculously extracted herself and stood waiting for him.

  “Are they coming?” she asked.

  “Of course they’re coming. There’s a dead body.”

  “She’s been shot,” Gertrude informed him matter-of-factly.

  “You didn’t touch her, did you?”

  “Of course not!” Gertrude said. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  They stood there together, awkwardly, silently, just inside the door, waiting to see some sign of life outside.

  They heard it before they saw it. Sirens. Then, thirty seconds later, blue lights.

  G greeted the lead officer by name. “Hale,” he said, and nodded. They had played high school football together.

  “G,” Hale said, returning his nod. “You found the body?”

  “Over there,” G said, pointing to the house of balls.

  “You didn’t touch it?”

  G shook his head.

  “OK, wait right here. One of us—”

  “I know who did it,” Gertrude interrupted.

  Hale turned to her expectantly.

  Gertrude felt nervous all of a sudden, an emotion entirely unusual for her.

  “Well? Are you going to share your theory?” Hale asked, obviously impatient and annoyed.

  Gertrude took a deep breath. “It was the mayor.”

  And Hale actually laughed. From deep in his belly, he whooped with laughter, his ridicule echoing to all corners of WaterWoopPark. “And just why do you think it was the mayor?”

  Gertrude felt her face flushing red, another experience she wasn’t used to. She didn’t know what to say.

  “OK then,” Hale said, regaining his professional demeanor, “you guys sit tight. One of us, probably me, will be back to take your statements.” Hale walked over to the house of balls, took one look, and then spoke rapidly into his radio. Another officer asked G and Gertrude to step outside, and then he began to wrap trees with caution tape.

  G stood with arms crossed, constantly shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His jaw was tight, and he seemed unable to look at Gertrude. “The mayor?” he muttered through his teeth.