The Saucy Lucy Murders (15 page)

“The Lord never gives us greater burdens than we can handle,” Lucy returned.

“I think He made a mistake this time. Nobody can handle Aunt Gladys.” Lexie hefted her purse
on her shoulder. “We’d best go spring the grand old dame before she causes any more trouble.”

Lucy looked heavenward, closed her eyes and said a little prayer. “Yes, let’s go.”

As they walked at an uneager pace to the front doors of the retirement home, Lexie figured Lucy could sally forth with such conviction since Aunt Gladys wouldn’t be such a bother to her. What did she have to lose?

“Why do I feel like we’re walking into the bowels of the beast?” Lexie asked.

“Maybe because the last time we saw Aunt Gladys, she set Mom and Dad’s house on fire with sandalwood incense and tried to put it out with the garden hose.”

Lexie laughed. “That’s right. And remember how most of their good silver and crystal disappeared along with a couple of family antiques?”

“Yes, I do,” Lucy said.

“Good gravy, Dad was pissed off,” Lexie added. “He never wanted Aunt Gladys to come and stay with them again. He couldn’t figure out how two sisters could be so opposite. Mom was always down-to-earth and calm, but he claimed Aunt Gladys was like a firecracker in a pork barrel.”

Lucy
ts, tsked.
“You do have good insurance on your place, don’t you?”

“Covers flood and fire,” Lexie said with a nod. “And hopefully, all the holocausts Aunt Gladys can conjure up. Don’t know about petty larceny, though.”

“Say your prayers and keep your fingers crossed. Let’s hope it won’t be too long before Cousin Bruce comes to collect her.”

“I won’t hold my breath,” Lexie said. “He’s 45 and still can’t manage to find his way home.”

The sisters went inside and announced who they were at the front desk. A young lady named Rita assured them she would have a couple of attendants bring Mrs. Maplethorpe out to them right away and wouldn’t they like to sit and make themselves comfortable?

Lexie studied the Navajo wall hangings and leather western art that filled the waiting area. Despite the décor, a persistent smell of disinfectant pervaded her nostrils—an attempt to mask something Lexie did not want to know about. The place made her feel weird. Like when your underwear twists up your crotch and you’re too embarrassed to straighten it out.

Time ticked by and finally a serious-looking man, probably in his fifties, wearing tan Dockers, a button-down shirt, and striped tie approached them. “Pardon me, are you ladies Mrs. Maplethorpe’s nieces?”

“Yes, we are,” Lexie informed him.

His black and gray mustache twitched. “I’m Dr. Ravenwood, her physician. I’m sorry about the wait. I’m sorry to inform you your aunt is missing.”

“Missing? As in
gone?”
How can that be?” Lucy produced a fan from her purse and began waving it madly.

“Dr. Ravenwood,” Lexie said through clenched teeth, “aren’t the residents watched closely?”

“Yes, they are. But I’m afraid Mrs. Maplethorpe managed to slip past our attendants.” He wrung his hands. “This is terrible and I hold myself completely responsible.”

The sisters stared at each other, then at Ravenwood.

Dr. Ravenwood’s mustache twitched again. “I can assure the two of you this type of occurrence is very rare.”

Lexie folded her arms across her chest. “How long has Aunt Gladys been gone?”

“The attendants saw her at breakfast, which is served at 8 a.m. every morning.”

Lucy’s jaw dropped, and she quickly shut her mouth.

“Two hours?” Lexie tapped her toe. “The woman’s been missing for two hours, and you just now realized she’s gone?”

Ravenwood stiffened, as though someone had run a metal rod up through his doctor’s coat. “I assure you, we run a very reliable and reputable establishment. Despite our best efforts, on occasion mishaps occur.”

“What are you doing to find Aunt Gladys?”

“Several attendants are combing the grounds at this very moment.”

“What if she’s not on the premises?” Lucy hugged her tapestry purse tightly to her bosom. “What if she’s
out wandering the streets of Denver?
Alone?”

“Ladies, please don’t jump to conclusions. Rest assured your aunt couldn’t have gotten out the front door. We have video cameras monitoring the entrance twenty-four hours a day. The girls at the front desk would certainly have seen her. Right, Rita?” He nodded toward the counter.

“Absolutely,” Rita-at-the-front-desk agreed. “Shelly and I would have stopped her from going anywhere.” She turned to answer the phone.

“Your aunt has done this before. I’m sure we’ll find her unharmed.”

“She’s disappeared before?” Lucy fanned even harder. “Oh, my.”

Dr. Ravenwood clasped his hands behind his back. “She fancies the covered pavilions out on the grounds and that’s where we found her last time. Mrs. Maplethorpe claimed she was having a rehearsal for one of her Las Vegas reviews—”

“Dr. Ravenwood, Dr. Ravenwood!”

Everyone turned to the little old blue-haired lady in a flowered housedress and sneakers who shuffled up to them holding tightly to a cane. Her chin quivered and her bright green eyes met the doctor’s steady gaze. “Someone’s up and died out in the courtyard. It’s just awful.”

“Oh, my.” Lucy grasped the arm of her chair so tightly her knuckles went white.

Dr. Ravenwood put a hand on the elderly woman’s arm. “Now, Hazel, did you take your medication
this morning?”

She nodded excitedly. “I’m not seeing things, doc. Honest. And it wasn’t just me who saw ‘em. Bea and Norton saw, too. Saw ‘em out the game room window. Somebody’s layin’ by the fountain, dead as a doornail. I swear.”

“All right, calm down now. You go on back and tell Bea and the others to return to their rooms. I’ll take care of everything.”

Muttering to herself and shaking her blue curls, Hazel shuffled back down a hallway and disappeared.

“You’ll have to excuse poor Hazel. She has delusional spells on occasion. She’s apparently had a little setback today.”

“Mrs. Maplethorpe’s son completed most of the forms necessary to release her, and he’s given permission for you two to check her out. But there is still some final paperwork to be completed before your aunt can leave.” He nodded in the direction of a sheaf of papers on the counter. “While you ladies take care of it, I’ll check on the … ahem … person in the courtyard.”

“But what about Aunt Gladys?”

Ravenwood acted like he didn’t hear Lexie’s question as he exited out a pair of glass doors onto a flagstone patio.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Lexie muttered incredulously. “Cousin Bruce was paying out the nose for this place, and they misplace their patients?”

“Excuse me, ladies,” Rita-at-the-front-desk said. “Could I have one of you sign these forms?”

“I’ll go look for Aunt Gladys while you John Hancock the paperwork,” Lexie said to Lucy.

As Lucy walked up to the counter, Lexie slipped out the glass doors, walked across the patio and descended a set of wide stone steps. Hearing Dr. Ravenwood’s agitated voice she paused, noting it seemed to be coming from behind an arbor filled with dry, crumbling roses and vines.

Lexie hustled around the arbor and stopped mid-stride.

Aunt Gladys lay on the ground, her cap of snow-white curly hair pressed against the lawn. She wore a tiger-stripe caftan, pink flowered flip-flops, black beads the size of walnuts, large hoop earrings and large black frame glasses. Her powdered and heavily made up face was still as a corpse’s.

Uprooted golden and russet-colored Chrysanthemums lay around her in an oval, coffin-like shape. Lying extremely still, the old lady clutched a mum-bouquet in her red-nailed grasp, her eyes shut against the warm autumn sun, a mischievous grin tilting her plump, ruby-colored lips.

Dr. Ravenwood folded his arms across his chest, his expression stern. “For the second time, Mrs. Maplethorpe, get up. The ground is wet and you’ll catch a cold.”

“I’m dead. Leave me alone.”

“You can’t stay out here. You’re upsetting
everyone.”

She opened one eye and peered at the doctor. “Why? You’ve killed me with all your stupid rules and regulations. A body can barely breathe in this concentration camp. You Nazi fascist pig, you.”

“You have got to get up. Your nieces are here to take you home.”

“And make me leave my Herman? I’m in love with him, you know. The only man I’ve
ever
loved,” she added theatrically.

Lexie couldn’t help but grin. Aunt Gladys had had seven husbands in her lifetime. She’d proclaimed true love for each of them and went through extensive grieving periods whether they died or she’d divorced them. Yessiree, Aunt Gladys was the queen of drama queens.

“This rotten flea-bag of a place is standing in the way of our true happiness.” She opened her eyes wide and harrumphed loudly. “Nazis, Nazis, Nazis, all of you. Ach! Next thing I know you’ll be herding all of us into a gas chamber!”

“Good heavens.” Lexie ignored Dr. Raven-wood’s scowl, pushed past him, and kneeled beside her aunt. “It’s nice to see you, Aunt Gladys. It’s been a long time.”

Aunt Gladys’ brown eyes opened wide. “Who the hell are you?”

Lexie blinked, a little taken aback by Aunt Gladys’ vehemence. “Your niece, Aunt Gladys. Lexie.”

Aunt Gladys’ painted brows drew together. “My
sister’s girl?
Leslie?
All the way from Moose Creek Junction?”

“Lexie,
Aunt Gladys. Short for Alexandria.” Lexie took her aunt’s hand, noting the dry, parchment-like skin covered in brown age spots. About fifteen million gold bracelets rattled on her arm.

“Lexie, Leslie. Same difference in my book.” She sat up slowly with a grimace. “What kind of a name is that anyway?”

“It’s the name your sister gave me.”

“Ah, Lucille Beatrice.” She smiled wistfully. “How is the old girl doing these days? She still singing in the church choir? And how’s that pastor husband of hers? Still fingering his prayer beads?”

Lexie’s stomach twisted. “She and my father were killed in a car accident. Don’t you remember?”

Aunt Gladys squeezed her eyes shut. “Ah, yes. Her and Princess Di. It’s such a tragedy when we lose good people. They say only the good die young. That must mean I’m bad. Very bad.
When I’m good, I’m bad. When I’m bad, I’m even better.”
She cackled. “Mae West said that. She was the best.” Aunt Gladys craned her neck and looked over Lexie’s shoulder. “Where’s that big sister of yours? Lucy? Dr. Demented here says she came, too.”

Lexie stifled a chuckle, but it came out like a retarded snort. “She’s waiting for us out front. We’re taking you home to Moose Creek Junction.”

“Oh sure, bury me in the armpit of America again.” She held up a long, bony middle finger.
“Where busybodies rule and normal people drool.”

“Really, it’s not that bad, Aunt Gladys.”

Her brown eyes snapped. “Can’t we go somewhere fun like Las Vegas? I can still dance, you know. I could hire on at the Flamingo. Teach those anorexic flailing floozies a thing or two.” Aunt Gladys tried with difficulty to stand. Lexie quickly took one arm and Dr. Ravenwood grasped the other, helping to lift her up.

“Is Herman coming with us, too? Please tell me he is or I’ll simply have a coronary.” Aunt Gladys pressed a hand over her heart and stared heavenward.

Dr. Ravenwood firmly told her, “Herman’s family picked him up yesterday. He is no longer a resident at Mountain Shadows.”

Gladys shoved her hands on her hips. “He left me? Without even saying goodbye?”

“He went home to his family, Mrs. Maplethorpe. Just like you’re going to.”

“Bastard.” Aunt Gladys jutted out her chin and fixed Dr. Ravenwood with a glare. “All men are bastards, you know. Including you, Dr. Demented.”

“You’re upset, madam,” Dr. Ravenwood said with strained patience. He took Aunt Gladys’ elbow and steered her back to the patio. “Let’s get you to your room so you can get dressed.”

Aunt Gladys smacked Dr. Ravenwood on the back of his head. “I am dressed, you nincompoop!”

Something plopped to the ground and landed by Aunt Gladys’s caftan. She looked down and sucked
in a breath.

“What’s this?” Dr. Ravenwood leaned over to pick up a diamond-studded watch “I don’t recall you having a watch like this, Mrs. Maplethorpe.”

Aunt Gladys pursed her lips. “It’s not mine, exactly.”

“Where did you get it?” Ravenwood asked.

“I borrowed it from Minnie. You know, the poor old darling doesn’t need timepieces these days. She’s loonier than a … a loon.”

“I take it you borrowed the watch without Minnie’s knowledge?”

“I resent your implication that I stole it. Really, Dr. Demented. Perhaps you are losing your marbles.
Physician, heal thyself…
”

“I’m sure Aunt Gladys meant no harm,” Lexie said. She met Aunt Gladys’ gaze. “You meant to return the watch, right?”

“Of course.” Aunt Gladys lifted a haughty brow. “I was merely polishing it.”

“Dr. Ravenwood, will you please return the watch to Minnie for Aunt Gladys?” Lexie asked.

“By all means.” Ravenwood pocketed the watch and took Aunt Gladys’ elbow again. “This way, ladies.”

As they walked into the retirement home, Aunt Gladys between Dr. Ravenwood and Lexie, she noticed how the old lady’s frame was bent with age. Despite Aunt Gladys’ feistiness, she still seemed frail. It was apparent the old gal would need protection, even it if was simply from herself.

A bad feeling washed over Lexie. Boy, oh boy, oh boy. She knew she was in for the time of her life with Aunt Gladys. Maybe the old lady would calm down and behave once she and Lucy got her home. But she wouldn’t hold her breath on that one.

Gladys abruptly jerked away from Ravenwood. “Take your hands off of me, you whiny pervert! I’m not a thumb-sucking baby. I can still dress myself.”

Dr. Ravenwood dropped his hands to his sides. “Of course you can. I apologize.”

Aunt Gladys turned to Lexie. “And Leslie. If I’m to be staying with you, you simply must evict that boy-man who’s been living with you all these years. I have trouble enough sleeping at night without Junior crawling around up on the roof, making all kinds of noise.”