Chapter 5
Gran had taken the four of us into the police station. Unfortunately, since Uncle Alec was busy, she couldn’t walk right in and tell him what was on her mind. Well, she probably could, but since Dolores had told her that if she did, she’d be arrested, she didn’t, if you see what I mean.
Next to Gran, another old lady sat, who looked as eager to have a word with someone on the inside as Gran was.
“What are you here for, lady?” asked Gran.
“Hmm?” The woman didn’t seem overjoyed that she was being addressed thusly. “What did you call me?”
“I didn’t call you anything. I just asked what you are doing here.”
“Well, waiting to talk to a policeman, of course,” said the old lady, regarding Gran as if she were a little stupid—or a lot. “This is a police station, after all, so the people waiting here in this godawful waiting room are most likely here to talk to a policeman, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Oh, I agree wholeheartedly,” said Gran. “Personally, I’m here to tell my son, who is the chief of police, that his sister, who happens to be my daughter, has just tried to set fire to the house of my granddaughter.”
“Family affair, huh?” said the old lady, who seemed perfectly unfazed by this quite remarkable explanation. “Looks like you need a therapist, my dear, not a cop.”
“Yeah, maybe I do,” said Gran, who studied the old lady with something resembling marked interest. “I’ve never seen you around these parts. Are you new here?”
“Oh, I don’t live in Hampton Cove,” the other lady assured Gran, as if wanting to make it clear that she had nothing to do with this town whatsoever and would have preferred to keep it that way if she’d had any choice in the matter.
She pressed her lips together primly, took a firmer grip on the purse that sat in her lap, and looked straight ahead.
She clearly felt that she had said all she wanted to say and was saying no more.
But Gran wasn’t so easily deterred. Those non-verbal signals that people send when they want to convey a lack of interest in talking to a person had never made much of an impression on her and they didn’t do so now. “Did you get mugged by any chance?”
The old lady looked up sharply. “How did you know?”
“Because if you’re not from around here, it stands to reason that you’re a tourist. And why would a tourist need a cop? Because they’ve been mugged, of course.”
“Excellent piece of deductive reasoning,” said the woman, actually giving Gran a look of admiration. “You aren’t a detective yourself, by any chance, Mrs…?”
“Muffin. Vesta Muffin.” She sat a little straighter and thrust out her bony chest. “As it happens, I’m the leader of the Neighborhood Watch.” She patted that chest proudly. “I keep this town safe.”
“Good for you!” said the old lady. She held out a hand.
“Mercedes Saggers. Just passing through.” She hesitated, then seemed to feel there was no harm in telling Gran some of her life story.
“You’re absolutely right. I was mugged. Though the guy assured me that all he wanted from me was a light, I’m pretty sure he wanted to steal my bag. So I maced him.”
“Maced him!” said Gran, a look of pure bliss traveling up her wrinkly features. “You did not.”
“I did, too. Maced him right in the face. You should have seen him after I was through with him. Face red, eyes watering. He’ll think twice next time he wants to mug someone.”
“Let me shake your hand, Mercedes Saggers,” said Gran as she stuck out her hand.
The other woman seemed strangely pleased and pressed Gran’s hand willingly and with some relish.
“Why, thank you very much. This is the first time someone from this town has been nice to me. First that mugger tried to steal my bag, and then that lady over there looked at me as if I was something that got stuck to the underside of her shoe.”
“Yeah, Dolores is an acquired taste,” said Gran as she regarded Dolores with some displeasure. The desk sergeant didn’t even notice, too busy as she was checking her phone.
“Look, maybe you can help me. If you truly are the head of the Neighborhood Watch.”
“I am that and a lot more,” Gran assured her. “What’s on your mind?”
“Well, my son has died,” Mercedes began. “Or at least I think he has.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Gran murmured dutifully.
“It’s fine,” said Mercedes with a wave of the hand. “We had been estranged for some time.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Just one of those things.”
“Where was his body found?”
“Well, it hasn’t been found yet, though no doubt it will be soon.”
Gran seemed puzzled, and frankly speaking, I was feeling the same way.
“So you’re not entirely sure that your son has been killed?”
“Oh, I’m sure, and I would like to speak to a detective.”
“It’s odd,” said Gran.
“I’ll say. When I told that receptionist woman?—”
“Desk sergeant,” Gran corrected her.
“—that I wanted to talk to a detective, she brushed me off. Said I needed to fill in some paperwork first. Prove that I’m related to my son. Of course I’m related. He’s my son!”
“No, I mean it’s odd that I wouldn’t have been informed,” said Gran. “As the leader of the Neighborhood Watch, mostly I’m the first to know when a murder has been committed in Hampton Cove. I have even been instrumental in solving a few murders myself.”
“Well, have you now?” asked Mercedes, getting more and more excited about this strange coincidence. “That I would happen to meet you is quite the coup, because the thing is that the police have been less than helpful.”
“My son hasn’t been helpful? Or Chase Kingsley?”
“Who is Chase Kingsley?”
“Our resident detective. When a violent crime like a murder is committed, he’s usually the one who leads the investigation. It surprises me that you wouldn’t have met him.”
“I’m trying to meet him now! But that receptionist woman?—”
“Desk sergeant.”
“—keeps brushing me off.” She sighed deeply. “The thing is that I hadn’t seen Harley these last couple of weeks. He refused to talk to me, so we hadn’t been in touch.”
“Looks like a whole big mess you’re in, Mercedes.”
“You can say that again,” Mercedes assured her. “I mean, the police haven’t told me anything, and as far as I know, no one is actually investigating what happened to Harley.”
“You need to talk to Chase,” said Gran. “And since he happens to be married to my granddaughter Odelia, that shouldn’t be a problem. If there’s anyone who knows what’s going on with the investigation into your son’s death, it’s him.”
“Can you put me in touch with this detective?”
“I will do you one better,” said Gran. “I will personally introduce you to him. Tonight. At the house. I live right next door to him.” She glanced over at Dolores. “And since it looks as if no one here is interested in talking to us, we might as well leave and take matters into our own hands.”
The old lady frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I should have known not to rely on my son for assistance. He’s probably busy with some political thing.” She got up. “What do you say we handle this ourselves?”
“You mean…”
“You join my Neighborhood Watch, and together we will solve your son’s murder. Since obviously the police can’t be bothered.”
“But I thought you said this Chase Kingsley person…”
Gran made a throwaway gesture. “Chase is probably busy with other stuff. No, we need to handle this ourselves. And from what I can tell, you are the kind of person who is used to handling things herself. Am I right?”
“I guess you are,” Mercedes admitted. “Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve had to take care of myself. Dad split when I was a baby, Mom was killed in a car crash when I was three. I pretty much raised myself!”
“Same here,” said Gran, even though as far as I knew, she hadn’t. But then I guess there is that principle when you want to befriend someone that you need to act and look like that person. Psychologists call it mirroring, and Gran had clearly taken that lesson to heart.
“Was Gran abandoned as a baby, Max?” asked Dooley as we followed the two ladies out of the police station. “It’s just that she never talks about her past.”
“Maybe she was,” said Harriet. “It would explain a lot.”
“What do you mean?” asked Dooley.
“Well, let’s put it this way. Gran is, to put it mildly, a little eccentric. So it stands to reason that at some point her personality must have been formed by the circumstances of her life. And her parents abandoning her as a baby would be quite congruent with that.”
“Poor Gran,” said Dooley with feeling. “If I had known, I would have hugged her extra close every time I saw her.”
And since with him to think is to act, he approached Gran and started rubbing himself against her leg.
She picked him up, and as she did, he pressed his head against her chin. Causing her to smile and say, “What brought this on, huh, little fellow?”
“I just love you so much, Gran,” said Dooley. “Especially now that I know that you were abandoned as a baby.”
“Right,” said Gran as she endured more chin butts from her favorite cat.
“Okay, so first things first, Mercedes. We need to pick up my friend Scarlett. She is second-in-command in the Neighborhood Watch, and also my best friend. And then you can brief us on everything that you know about your son, and we can get to work figuring out what is going on here.”
“Thanks so much, Vesta,” said Mercedes as she placed a grateful hand on Gran’s arm. “When I walked into the station, I had no idea what would happen. But I see now that providence has been looking out for me and has fortuitously arranged this meeting.”
“Good,” said Gran. “Then let’s begin.”