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Gertrude, Gumshoe Cozy Mystery Series Box Set: Books 1, 2, and 3 Page 8
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Page 8
Calvin turned too. “What?”
“Crisises! Not cris-eeze.”
Calvin ignored her and sat down.
“Will you get back here?” Gertrude hollered.
“Why?”
“Because I can’t carry an ice cream cone and use my walker at the same time.”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before you ordered a triple scoop with sticky topping!” Calvin hollered.
The kind-eyed woman, who was now trying to help the helpless person behind Gertrude, wasn’t kind-eyed anymore. Gertrude was indignant. “Will you get over here?” she yelled. “You’re causing a scene!”
Calvin grunted and got up, stomped over to Gertrude and started to take her walker away.
“Don’t touch my walker!” Gertrude said, appalled.
“Well, what do you want me to do?” said Calvin, exasperated.
“Take the cone,” Gertrude said slowly, as if speaking to a stupid child.
“I don’t want to touch your cone,” Calvin said.
“Why not?”
“Ma’am, if you could just step aside,” the kind-eyed woman tried.
“Because it’s dripping butterscotch goo everywhere!” Calvin cried.
“Ahah! A napkin crisis already!” Gertrude declared.
“Excuse me, miss, I’d be happy to carry your cone,” a deputy said, stepping alongside the odd couple. “Hi, Calvin,” he said, nodding to Calvin as he took the cone from Gertrude’s clutch. She handed him several napkins as well. “Where we headed?” he asked.
Wordlessly, Calvin headed toward the picnic table.
“Ladies first,” the deputy said, motioning with his free hand toward the path Calvin had taken.
“Are you Frank?” Gertrude asked.
“I am,” Frank said.
“Good,” Gertrude said, and padded after Calvin.
When she had settled onto the bench, and Frank had returned her cone to her, and she had begun to hastily lick at the dripping butterscotch goo, Frank asked, “So, what’s up, Calvin?”
“Well, we were just wondering—” Calvin began.
“We wanted to know where you were last night,” Gertrude interrupted.
“Gertrude!” Calvin barked.
“Where I was?” Frank laughed. “Why?”
“So we can clear you of Lori Hicks’s murder.”
Frank’s smile faded. “I’m sorry, who are you?” Frank asked.
“Gertrude,” she replied and licked her ice cream cone.
“You’ll have to excuse my friend,” Calvin said. “She’s a little, uh … well, touched.”
“Am not,” Gertrude said, and took another lick.
“Of course, we know you had nothing to do with the crime. It’s just that Lori was a friend of Gertrude’s, and she’s really worried, and we were wondering if you had any information you could share with us, you know, something that could ease Gertrude’s uh … her anxiety.”
“I can’t tell you anything,” Frank said. “It’s an open investigation.”
“I understand,” Calvin said, looking embarrassed.
“Have you found the murder weapon?” Gertrude asked.
Frank just stared at her.
“What would you say if I told you I knew where it was?” Gertrude asked and took another lick.
“I’d say you’d better tell me right now, or I’ll arrest you for obstruction.”
“Aha!” Gertrude said triumphantly. “So you haven’t found it yet!”
Frank glared at Calvin. “Is there anything else you need? Because I need to get back to work.”
Before Calvin could answer, Gertrude asked, “Did you know Lori Hicks?”
“No, I did not,” Frank said.
Gertrude examined his face closely. “Huh,” she said.
“What?” Frank asked.
“I’m not so sure you’re telling the truth,” Gertrude said thoughtfully.
“Of course I’m telling the truth! OK, I’m going now. You two don’t call me again unless you actually need something, something that I am bound by my job description to provide.” He spared Gertrude another disgusted glance and then stalked off toward his cruiser.
“Loser,” Gertrude muttered.
“What is wrong with you?” Calvin asked, wide-eyed.
“I’m touched, remember?”
14
Trixie still wasn’t home. Gertrude and Calvin sat there, in the car, staring up at her empty abode.
“Private Eyes has food,” Gertrude said.
“I’m not going back in there. I told you that already. I’m not going to change my mind about that.”
“OK then, just go drop me off. I’ll just call you if I need anything.”
“How are you going to call me?” Calvin asked.
“With my shiny Samsung.”
“I know, but I don’t have a cell phone, so what number do you plan to dial?”
“Oh shoot, we should go get some walkie talkies!” Gertrude exclaimed.
Calvin groaned. “I’m not spending any more money on this insanity.”
“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve got a whole collection of walkie talkies back at my place. Let’s go!”
Calvin backed out into the street with a look on his face that fully amused Gertrude. He actually looked excited. But by the end of the five-minute drive back across town to Gertrude’s trailer park, he had managed to hide whatever excitement still existed. He pulled into Gertrude’s short driveway. She opened her door.
“You coming?” she asked.
Calvin looked at her trailer skeptically. “I’m not sure I should.”
“Oh, don’t be such a lily-liver. Come on.”
Grudgingly, Calvin got out of his car, and with great trepidation, he ascended the few steps to Gertrude’s door, which she had already flung open. He stepped inside and gasped.
His eyes scanned the trailer, growing wider and wider as they did so. After several seconds, his eyes rested on a neatly stacked collection of lampshades.
“Gertrude?” Calvin asked.
“Yeah?” Gertrude called, already out of sight amid the stacks.
“How many lampshades does one woman need?”
“You never know!” Gertrude called out. “Someone might have a lampshade crisis!”
As Calvin stared disbelievingly at the lampshade tower, a cat weaved through his legs, and Calvin let out a high-pitched wail.
Gertrude came hurrying back, a box balanced atop her walker. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Calvin said, panting, and leaning on a stack of encyclopedias, “just a cat.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Gertrude said. “I thought the mayor had gotten you. Here, pick out one you like.” She pushed her walker closer to Calvin, so he could peer in at the collection of walkie talkies.
“Gertrude, do any of these actually work?”
“Oh sure. I’m sure some of them do. We should probably test them before push comes to shove.”
“Right.” He reached in and grabbed one gingerly. Then he blew on it, and a cloud of dust flew off. He turned it on. “I’ll be darned.”
“What?”
“It appears to be working,” Calvin said, astounded.
Gertrude pulled another one out of the box. It looked like something straight out of a World War II museum. She turned it on. “Channel 67,” she said.
Calvin looked down. “I’m already there,” he said.
“Hello?!” Gertrude hollered into her walkie.
“Good grief, Gertrude! I’m right here! You don’t need to holler!”
“Did you hear me?” Gertrude asked.
“Yes, everyone in the county heard you!”
“No, I mean, did you hear me the through the walkie talkie?”
“How should I know? I’m deaf now!”
Gertrude stared at him blankly.
Calvin took a deep breath. “OK, let’s try again. Take six steps away from me, and then whisper into the radio.”<
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Gertrude nodded. She turned to walk away, wondering why he was taking this whole sound check thing quite so seriously. She stepped around a corner in her path so she was out of sight. “Are you ready?” she called out.
“Yes!” Calvin said, sounding utterly exasperated.
“Hello?” she whispered into the walkie. “Are you there?”
Calvin laughed. “Man, if anyone else is manning this channel, they just got the fright of their lives.”
“Why?” Gertrude asked, coming back around the corner.
“Because you just sounded like an irate Miss Trunchbull.”
“Who’s Miss Trunchbull?”
“Never mind,” Calvin said.
“So, it worked?”
“Yes, it worked,” Calvin said.
“Great, let me just grab some extra batteries.” She disappeared into the stacks again, and returned seconds later with a plastic grocery bag full of batteries.
“I doubt we’ll need that many, Gertrude,” Calvin said.
“You never know,” Gertrude said, heading for the door.
“Right, ’cause there might be a battery crisis,” Calvin said, and followed her.
***
Calvin drove Gertrude back to Private Eyes and then parked in the back.
“What are you going to do while I’m gone?” she asked him.
“Sleep.”
“Well, then how am I going to call you for help if you’re asleep?”
Calvin reclined his seat with a thump. “I’m a light sleeper.”
“Calvin! I’m relying on you for my safety!”
He laughed as he settled in and closed his eyes. “Well, then you’d better not get yourself into any danger.” He put his arm over his eyes.
Gertrude just sat there staring at him.
“Just go,” he said, without moving his arm to see her. “I predict you get bored and come back within twenty minutes.”
“Fine,” Gertrude said. She flung the door open and hefted herself out of the car. I’m going to show him. I won’t get bored. I won’t come back to the car. I’m going to stay in this strip club all night if it kills me.
Gertrude was back in twenty minutes.
“Told you so,” Calvin muttered.
“I’m not back,” she said. “I just need some cash. I had enough to get in, but it turns out they won’t let me just sit there without drinking something.”
“Oh great,” Calvin said, “so when you do come back, you’ll be all sauced? I’m not sure I can handle a drunken Gertrude. I can barely stand you sober.”
“Oh, just give me the money already. I’m just going to drink ginger ale.”
He handed her a twenty. “I expect you to pay me back for this.”
“Of course,” she said, taking the twenty. “Every penny.” She shut the door, wondering if there was a reward for catching Lori’s killer. There should be, she decided.
Gertrude went back into the bar, settled back into the chair she’d left, and ordered a ginger ale from the wary waitress.
“That’ll be two dollars,” the woman in the pink bikini said.
“Two dollars? For a soda? Are you bonkers?”
The woman put her hand on her hip and sighed. “Do you want the drink, or not?”
“Don’t you get cold?” Gertrude asked.
“How ’bout I go get the manager?” she said.
“OK, OK, here’s a twenty. How ’bout you run me a tab?” (She’d always wanted to say that.) “Just let me know when I’m getting close to twenty dollars, and then cut me off.” She laughed. The woman didn’t. She snatched the twenty out of Gertrude’s hand and turned to go. Some people just have no sense of humor.
Gertrude turned her attention to the small stage, but nothing was happening there yet. She looked around the dimly lit establishment for Trixie, but didn’t see her. She got up and headed for the back, where she knew the dressing room was.
She made it all the way to the back wall when a man approached her. “Can I help you?” he said pleasantly enough.
“Yes, I’m looking for Trixie.”
“OK,” he said, “well, she’ll be dancing a little later.”
“So she’s OK?” Gertrude asked.
“Yes, why wouldn’t she be?” he asked.
“I mean, you’ve actually seen her?”
The man stared at her. “Yes. I’ve seen her,” he said very slowly.
“OK then. I’ll just go back to my table and wait for her turn at the pole.” Gertrude gave him a fake smile and turned back toward her table.
Gertrude had drank four glasses of ginger ale and made three trips to the bathroom when she realized she was undeniably, miserably bored. Much unlike her expectations, the strip club was an incredibly dull place to hang out. The dancers were certainly talented young ladies, but their routines were spectacularly redundant, and Gertrude had quickly grown tired of watching the front row of men watch these redundant routines, enraptured. Trixie had been out to dance, twice, and then had disappeared into the back again. By the time the server approached her to offer her another refill, Gertrude had learned her name was Candy.
“Candy, this jitterbug has games on it, right?”
Candy looked at the phone in Gertrude’s hand.
“Yeah,” she said.
“Can you show me how to find one? I’m incredibly bored.”
Candy set her small tray down on Gertrude’s table. “Why are you here?”
“I like ginger ale.”
“No, really,” Candy repeated. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me, but it just seems pretty weird.”
“I’m waiting for Trixie,” Gertrude said.
“Trixie’s here.”
“I know.”
“Well, do you want me to go get her for you?” Candy offered.
“No, thank you.”
Candy eyed Gertrude carefully. “Well, then why are you waiting for her?”
“I’m just here for her protection.”
Candy stared at Gertrude for an elongated moment and then just turned and walked away.
Finally, the interminable evening appeared to be coming to an end. Trixie was at the pole when the bartender rang a bell and hollered, “Last call.” Gertrude had long since polished off her tenth and final ginger ale. Two songs later, Trixie gave a final twirl and then stepped off the stage and headed toward the back. Two men started escorting people toward the door. Gertrude headed toward the back. One of the men took her by the arm. “Time to go,” he said.
“I’m going,” Gertrude said. “I’m just going to go with Trixie.”
“No, you’re not.”
Gertrude kept going in her own direction, and the man physically prevented her from doing so. “Get your hands off me!” Gertrude cried. She was so frustrated she wanted to scream. Who did this guy think he was?
Another man appeared on the other side of her and took her by the other arm. She did scream. She screamed at the top of her lungs, and she started to wiggle her whole body with all her might. This only caused them to tighten their grips. They began pulling her toward the door, the second man dragging the walker along behind him. And in this way, they actually pushed Gertrude out of the closed club and into the nighttime dark. As they slammed and locked the door behind her, she stopped screaming.
She had absolutely no idea where Trixie was.
She groaned and began to walk around the building to the back, where Calvin was parked. She was about halfway down the narrow alley that led to the small parking lot in the back when a door to her left opened, scaring the wits right out of her. She would’ve screamed, but she was all screamed out.
15
“What are you doing here?” Trixie snapped.
“Nothing,” Gertrude said.
“Really? ’Cause everyone is telling me that I’ve got some weird old lady stalking me.”
Gertrude gasped. “I’m not old!”
“Look, lady, can you just leave me alone?”
“I’m tryin
g to protect you!” Gertrude cried.
“Protect me? From what?”
“From the mayor!”
Trixie closed her mouth and stared at Gertrude for several long seconds. Then she stepped back inside and closed the door behind her. And Gertrude continued to Calvin’s car.
When she climbed in, he said, “Well?”
“Well nothing. Trixie is an ungrateful brat, and I have to pee.”
“Didn’t they have a restroom in there?”
“Yes, but the bouncers threw me out.”
Calvin looked at her, his eyebrows raised. “Seriously?”
“Yep. Literally. Threw. Me. Out.”
“Huh. Well then. I’m actually impressed. So, now what?”
“Now we wait for Trixie to come out, and then we follow her.”
Calvin groaned. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“It’s the only way, Calvin. And you know it.”
“Fine. You think she’ll come out the front or the back?”
“No idea,” Gertrude admitted.
“Well, should we split up? You watch the front and I’ll watch the back?” Calvin suggested.
“Why do I have to watch the front?”
“Because this is your idea!” Calvin cried.
“Fine,” Gertrude said. “Call me on the walkie if you see her.” Gertrude climbed back out of car and slammed the door. She retrieved her walker from the back seat and then slammed that door too. Then she made her way back down the dark alley and around to the front. She crossed the street, which was quiet this late at night, and crouched behind a mailbox on the opposite sidewalk. It wasn’t an ideal hiding place, but she was in a shadow cast by the streetlight, and she hoped Trixie wasn’t very observant.
Sure enough, Trixie came out the front door, looked both ways, and then, deciding she wasn’t being watched, headed down the street.
“Calvin!” Gertrude whispered into the radio.
“Yeah?”
“She just came out. She’s on foot. Come pick me up, but be stealthy about it.”
Calvin didn’t respond, but Gertrude could still sense his disgust. Still, within thirty seconds, Calvin eased his Cadillac out of the dark alley, and Gertrude stepped out of her hiding place. His headlights still off, he pulled the car alongside the curb. She hurried around the front of the car and, after hastily shoving her walker into the back seat, she climbed in.