Foal Play: A Mystery (14 page)

“Nope.”

Colleen added cream to the coffee and secured the cup’s lid. “How much do I owe you?”

“After fighting that fire at the Crepe place, it’s on the house,” Al said and moved away to help a customer.

She took a sip. There was nothing like the sensation of the first flood of coffee over the taste buds. It filled her with renewed energy.

She left Big Mama’s and unleashed Sparky. One place down, two to go, she thought. Next stop, Lighthouse Bagels. Colleen merged onto Ocean Trail. As she traveled south, she spotted Joe’s coming up on the bay side. Joe’s was popular with locals and sportsmen. Colleen recalled the fishermen in the grocery store talking about the missing Pennsylvania man. She slowed the SUV. Did she have time to stop and ask questions or should she let Bill handle that and continue searching for Myrtle?

As she approached the restaurant, her question was answered for her. Sitting in front of Joe’s restaurant was Nellie’s baby blue Buick. Nellie and Myrtle were at Joe’s! Colleen scolded herself. She had guessed wrong about the breakfast venue because she had been thinking of where Nellie and Myrtle, two women, would eat breakfast, not where Nellie and her new friend Mitch would eat. She parked and cut the engine. Now if only she could get Myrtle to leave as easily as she had found her.

Colleen tied a reluctant Sparky to a post under the awning and entered. In contrast to Big Mama’s, Joe’s interior was large and the décor was dark, with wood tables and chairs and a fully stocked bar at the far end. A group of men were talking loudly and imbibing at the counter. All had clearly had more than a few drinks. And it isn’t even noon, Colleen thought. She scanned the restaurant. Joe’s clientele was predominantly male, which made finding Nellie and Myrtle a piece of cake.

She spotted the two at a table, crossed the room, and put her hand on Myrtle’s shoulder as she took a seat at the table. “Good morning, Uncle,” she said, giving Myrtle’s arm a squeeze. “Good to see you, Nellie.”

“Nice of you to join us,” Nellie said, pleased to see Colleen. “Isn’t it, Mitch?”

“Yeah, nice,” Myrtle said, forcing a smile and tugging at the straw fedora that had now become an important part of her Uncle Mitch disguise.

A waitress approached the table. “What can I get ya?” she asked Colleen while pouring her a mug of coffee.

“Blueberry pancakes with a side of bacon.”

The waitress nodded. “Your orders will be right up,” she said to Nellie and Myrtle and sauntered away.

“I had a tough time finding you two. You forgot to tell me in your note where you and Nellie were going, Uncle. Isn’t it lucky I spotted Nellie’s car out front?”

“Yes, lucky,” Myrtle said without enthusiasm.

“I was showing Mitch around the island,” Nellie said. “He really knows a lot about the Outer Banks. Not that I’m surprised with him being an environmental scientist and all.”

Colleen studied Nellie. Was that pride on her face? It was the happiest she had seen Nellie—ever. She observed Myrtle and Nellie interacting. Could it be? Was Nellie developing a crush on her disguised best friend? This was a complication Colleen didn’t need. She had to convince Myrtle to leave before Nellie saw through the disguise and got her feelings hurt.

“Unfortunately, my uncle isn’t going to be staying in town too long,” Colleen said. “He has a big environmental project he’s been working on. Isn’t that right?”

“We finished that project,” Myrtle said, not going down without a fight.

“Really? Because I got a call this morning from your office and they said they needed some follow-up data from you.”

“Oh, that really would be too bad if you had to leave so soon,” Nellie said.

Colleen and Myrtle squared off like gunslingers at high noon. Nellie eyed the two, sensing—if not understanding—the tension between them.

“If you two will excuse me, I’m going to go powder my nose.”

Myrtle rose, pulled Nellie’s chair out, and tipped her hat before Nellie walked away.

“This is too much, Myrtle,” Colleen said when Nellie was gone.

“I told you I was a good actress,” Myrtle said, not the least bit worried. “You’re the one that’s going to blow it.”

The waitress arrived with their breakfast orders. Colleen had more to say to Myrtle but right now the pancakes were calling to her. Just one bite and then she’d get Myrtle to see that what she was doing was not only wrong but dangerous. Colleen took a bite of the pancakes. Hot blueberries burst in her mouth. She chewed and washed the food down with a sip of coffee.

A shaft of light filled the restaurant as the front door opened and Bill entered. “Crap,” Colleen said under her breath.

“There’s no need to swear at me,” Myrtle said, indignant.

“Hush,” she said, slouching in her chair. If Bill saw her in Joe’s he’d think she had been asking questions about the missing fisherman behind his back … and he’d see Myrtle. Colleen didn’t think Myrtle could fool Bill with her disguise a second time.

Bill crossed to the bar and took a seat at the counter. “Don’t turn around,” she said to Myrtle, keeping her own face down.

Of course, Myrtle did exactly that. Nellie exited the ladies’ room and, to Colleen’s dismay, tapped Bill on the shoulder and pointed to Colleen. Bill swiveled and locked eyes with her. Please don’t get up, Colleen silently prayed. Bill got up. Please don’t come over here, she prayed again. Bill headed toward her and Myrtle.

“They’re coming this way,” she said to Myrtle under her breath. “Let me do the talking.”

Myrtle drew her hat down to hide her face. Nellie and Bill arrived at the table.

“Look who I found,” Nellie said.

Colleen smiled weakly at Bill.

“Care to join us, Sheriff Dorman?” Nellie asked.

“I’m sure the sheriff has a lot to do today,” Colleen said.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Bill said, sitting opposite Colleen.

What a nightmare, Colleen thought. She had to get Myrtle out of Joe’s without simultaneously hurting Nellie’s feelings and arousing Bill’s suspicions. It would be tough, but she could do it—if Myrtle kept her mouth shut.

“Morning, Sheriff,” Myrtle said with a grunt.

Colleen wanted to scream. Hadn’t she just told Myrtle to let her do the talking?

“Good morning,” he said, his eyes fixed on Colleen. “You didn’t mention you were taking your uncle to breakfast at Joe’s.”

“Colleen didn’t know we were here,” Nellie said before Colleen could reply. “She happened to see my car out front. Isn’t that a happy coincidence?”

“Yes, it is,” Bill said, skeptical.

The waitress strutted to the table and stood close to Bill—too close, if you asked Colleen. “Can I get you the usual, Sheriff?” she asked with a purr.

“Just some coffee, Becky,” he said with a smile.

“Not even a piece of pie? I can’t have you getting skinny on me,” Becky said and flirtatiously poked at his middle.

“Maybe next time,” Bill said with a chuckle.

“You let me know if you change your mind,” she said and sashayed away, hips swinging with added vigor.

Colleen stared at Bill with a raised brow. His smile disappeared and his cheeks flushed. She stabbed at her pancakes, took a bite, and chewed.

When Colleen got angry, she got hungry. The first time she had realized this was when she was thirteen. She had called a boy she had a crush on to ask him to the school’s Sadie Hawkins Dance. The entire concept of the Sadie Hawkins Dance—girls asking boys—seemed backward to her but she wanted to go, so she picked up the phone and made the call. The boy’s sister had answered and when Colleen had said why she was calling there was a long muffled pause. Then the sister had told Colleen that her brother wasn’t home. The problem with that answer was that the sister hadn’t covered the receiver enough and Colleen had heard the boy in the background telling his sister that no way, no how did he want to go to the dance with “Leenie Beanie McCabe.” After she had hung up, Colleen had proceeded to eat an entire loaf of banana bread that her mother had baked that morning. Not surprisingly, the pancakes on her plate were now gone. Good thing she had a fast metabolism.

“So, Mitch, how are you enjoying Corolla?” Bill asked, breaking the tension.

“It’s real nice,” Myrtle said, keeping her head down.

“Mitch knows so much about the Outer Banks. It’s like he grew up here,” Nellie said.

“Really?” Bill said, now turning his full attention on Myrtle.

Uh-oh, Colleen thought. She knew that look. It’s the one Bill turned on suspects when he was about to interrogate them. Many had withered and crumbled under his questioning.

“I was wondering, Mitch,” he said, “what was Colleen like as a kid?”

“We don’t need to bore everyone with stories about me,” Colleen said.

“I wouldn’t be bored. Would you, Nellie?”

“Not at all.”

Everyone focused on Myrtle. Nellie waited with polite interest, Bill with delighted anticipation, and Colleen with growing dread. A moment passed. Colleen silently pleaded with her eyes for Myrtle to keep quiet. Myrtle grinned and leaned toward Nellie and Bill. Colleen’s heart sank. Myrtle was going to do it. She was finally going to have her revenge on Colleen and reveal every embarrassing, silly thing she had done while a student in Myrtle’s third-grade class.

Colleen wondered what stories Myrtle would share. Maybe she’d tell them about the time Colleen put a rubber frog on Myrtle’s seat. Well, that wouldn’t be too bad. Or the time she got in trouble for laughing at a kid who made fart sounds with his underarm. Still not too bad. Or perhaps it would be the time Colleen stole the chalk so Myrtle couldn’t write their math test on the board. The possibilities were endless. Whatever it was that Myrtle selected, Colleen had always known this day would come.

“You want to know what Colleen was really like as a girl?” Myrtle asked, pausing for dramatic effect.

Colleen closed her eyes. She heard her heart beat in her ears.

“She was always the bright spot of my day.”

Colleen opened her eyes, stunned.

Myrtle winked. “She kept me on my toes.”

“Spoken like a proud uncle,” Nellie said, clutching her napkin to her heart.

Colleen didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She wanted to hug Myrtle until her silly dog fur mustache fell off. Instead, she calmly turned to a disappointed Bill and said, “See?”

“She’s still keeping us on our toes,” he said with a grin.

Colleen swallowed with relief. One disaster averted. She checked her watch. She was due at the station in five minutes. Now was the time to get Myrtle out of there before her luck changed. “Nellie, I hope you don’t mind, but I was hoping to steal Mitch away and show him around the firehouse today. I’m due there in five minutes,” she said.

Nellie’s eyes showed disappointment but she put on a brave smile. “I understand. Perhaps we’ll get together later, Mitch?”

Myrtle glanced at Colleen. “Perhaps,” she said.

Colleen rose, removed money from her wallet, and dropped it on the table. “This one is on me, folks. Shall we, Uncle?”

Myrtle reluctantly stood, tipped her hat to Nellie, shook Bill’s hand, and proceeded toward the exit. When Colleen reached the front door she stole a look at Nellie and Bill. They were watching her and Myrtle and waved. Colleen waved back, then escaped into the bright light of the parking lot.

Colleen inhaled deeply. They were safe. For now, anyway. She knew it was only a matter of time before she’d have to tell Bill about Myrtle. But she needed evidence or a lead in Myrtle’s case. Without evidence, she’d have nothing to offset their deception. That meant only one thing. She’d have to go see Pinky. He was the only person who might know the identity of one of her suspects—the gunman she saw at the Lighthouse. But first she had to check in at the station.

Colleen unleashed Sparky from the post, opened the SUV doors for Myrtle and Sparky, slid into the vehicle, and started the engine. “So I was a bright spot, huh?” she asked Myrtle with a grin.

“Don’t let that go to your head, Leenie Beanie,” Myrtle said.

Colleen beamed and pulled onto Ocean Trail.

Colleen drove
to the station giddy with the knowledge that Myrtle had begrudgingly admitted to liking Colleen when she had been a student in her class. “You could have told Bill and Nellie any number of stories about me,” she said with a grin.

Myrtle rolled her eyes. “I didn’t tell them stories because, like it or not, we’re a team. And teammates stick together. That and…” Myrtle’s voice trailed off.

“That and what?”

“That and you’re the only person I know for sure isn’t a suspect in my murder.”

“How do you know I’m not?” Colleen said, trying to sound menacing.

“Please. You wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“What about when I hit Richie Robinson during morning recess?” she asked, recalling how much trouble she had been in with her parents after the incident. She didn’t consider herself a mean person but she didn’t like the idea that Myrtle thought of her as a weak, do-nothing either.

“You only did that because Richie was pummeling the Jenkins boy to get his lunch money,” Myrtle said in her matter-of-fact teacher voice. “That Jenkins boy should have been sticking up for himself. Imagine letting a girl take on your battles. You were always for the underdog, even when the underdog didn’t deserve it.”

It was true. When Colleen was five she had stood up to a group of boys twice her age who had been picking on a stray cat. It was the first time she could remember feeling angry at seeing the helpless or disadvantaged bullied. The boys had pushed her around a bit but the cat had managed to escape. She considered it a victory and in the days that followed wore the bruises she had suffered like badges of courage.

Much to her mother’s consternation, Colleen’s championing of the underdog had continued into high school when she brought home a series of friends her mother had called her “stray cats” or “projects.” Even when the stray cats had done things Colleen didn’t think were right, she had excused them because of their misfortunes or family troubles. She could still hear her mother’s warning: “No good deed goes unpunished.” To Colleen’s great disappointment, her mother’s warning had proven true on numerous occasions. She hoped her present situation with Myrtle wasn’t one of them.