Teddy Tumpin (An Ollie Stratford Cozy Mystery Book 5) Read online

  Roger let out a little laugh, making a sound like the yap of a startled terrier. "Oh yes, vicar Braithwaite, oh yes, but—"

  Vicar Braithwaite swept through the reception area before Roger finished his sentence. Glancing over her shoulder she turned. "Roger, you look as nervous as a fly in the glue pot. I guess that's to be expected, you being a bachelor all these years."

  Roger let out another startled yap.

  Vicar Braithwaite tilted her head to one side. "Look at Doctor Stratford; she had a marvelous marriage with her late husband, John. Wouldn't you agree Doctor Stratford that marriage is a wonderful blessing?"

  "There isn't a day goes by that I don't think about John. Together we raised a family, grew our corporate careers, and explored the nooks and crannies of life. It worked for me," I exclaimed with a reminiscent smile.

  The vicar turned her attention back to Roger. "It touches me deeply to see you pouring out such unbridled generosity onto one another. Forty years apart and your love for her stood firm. Mr. Romantic, you are indeed a good Samaritan. Bless your heart."

  Then with a cheery wave she was gone.

  Chapter 11

  "Roger!"

  The sound came through the doorway that led to the second level.

  "Roger, what are you doing?"

  It was Crystal.

  "Get upstairs now, I need your help."

  Roger darted across the reception room, through the doorway, closing it behind him. I heard his footsteps clatter up the stairs followed by a woman screaming, a voice I now recognized as Crystal. The woman was shrieking something but the words didn't fit into sensible sounds.

  After several minutes the shrieking died down, and I heard footsteps clatter down the stairs. The door flew open and Roger appeared.

  "Crystal is ready," Roger said in a dull and defeated-sounding voice. His eyes darted around avoiding direct contact. Something was amiss but blinded by the desire to hire out Ealing Homestead, I missed the obvious.

  "Wonderful, wonderful," I said, rushing past Roger up the stairs.

  The second story had a narrow corridor with three doorways. The one on my immediate left led to the master bedroom where I assumed Crystal was ensconced. Into the room I hurried. The curtains were drawn so tight, not a chink of light was visible. If I had not known it was late morning, it would be impossible to say whether it was day or night. The pungent odor of an unwashed body mingled with the savory scent of fried chicken caused my nostrils to twitch.

  And then through the gloom I saw her. Crystal Healy, Roger's wife-to-be. In her hair was a red rose, and her face was ghostly white, covered in a powder that went out of fashion during the Victorian era. Her jet-black eyelashes were unusually long with an over-the-top version of eyelash extensions popular among Hollywood starlets. But it was her clothing that made me pause. Draped across her shoulders was a silken shawl of scarlet and gold over a coal-black dress that covered her arms and extended to her ankles. I am no Hollywood fashion guru, but the woman wore the garments of a nineteenth-century clairvoyant—all that was missing was a crystal ball.

  Crystal chuckled and turned her oversized head slightly toward me. "Doctor Stratford, Roger has spoken highly of your services." She set a book aside and rose from a cushioned chair to extend a chubby hand.

  "Nice to meet you Crystal, you're a legend in Medlin Creek," I said, flashing my "let's be friends smile." Then I added, "You've had so many kind compliments from Roger."

  "Oh, he's such a sweetie," she said, groaning as she plopped her weight back into the chair. "Roger's devotion is the reason I came back to Medlin Creek. Goodness, how things have changed!"

  She reached a plump arm down to a red-and-white cardboard bucket sitting on the floor, her weight causing the seat to sag noticeably. Into her mouth she popped a fried chicken drumstick, chewing and gnawing until only the yellowish, black bone was left.

  Roger entered the room. "Doctor Stratford is a dear friend from the Speaker Circle. I wrote to you about that group in one of my letters. Do you remember?"

  Crystal's eyes narrowed; she peered at me suspiciously.

  "I thought you were the wedding venue woman," she said, sucking at little bits of chicken caught in her teeth.

  "Yes Crystal, I'm the owner of Ealing Homestead, an event center for weddings and corporate events," I said, flashing my "let's be friends" smile again.

  Crystal covered a large belch with her fist, then raised it at Roger and shrieked. "Oh, I get it now, you want to dump me for a younger model. Roger, you are not going to stand me up on the happiest day of my life, are you?"

  "Of course not," I said, speaking for Roger and before I had thought things through. "Roger's devotion spans forty years. It can't be broken now, isn't that true Roger?"

  He lifted his eyes to the ceiling as if in deep thought. "Oh, I don't—"

  "So sorry, Roger darling," interrupted Crystal with a sad smile. "It's just that in Hollywood…" Her voice trailed off to a whisper.

  "Go on," I said, excited and curious at the mention of Hollywood. "It must have been amazing to mingle with the stars."

  Crystal smiled, her eyes looking off into the distance. "Yes, it was fabulous. I was married many times but seldom for very long. But it was exciting, and fun, and filled with beautiful, wealthy people." She shifted in the chair and it creaked. "And now in my declining years, penniless, and a month before eviction from my Los Angeles apartment…" Her voice trailed off again.

  With wide eyes I urged her on. "Eviction, penniless, and then what?"

  Crystal looked over to where Roger stood as her lips twisted into a girlish smile. "And then my knight in shining armor shows up." She made a curious little movement with her mouth, stretching her lower chin from one side to the other. Then she puckered her lips, drawing them back swiftly into a hawkish smirk. Out popped her dentures.

  My stomach churned at the site of the chicken encrusted false teeth, and I gulped in the stale bedroom air willing my bagel and egg breakfast to stay put.

  "Roger!" Crystal shrieked, "Please clean these and bring them back."

  Roger's eyes, now the size of dinner plates, looked aghast as the color drained from his face.

  "Roger," she shrieked again. This jolted him into action. Two quick steps forward and he had the item in his grip.

  "It must truly be love," I muttered under my breath as he disappeared from the room.

  Crystal signaled for me to speak. A little step forward and I began. I told her how I had bought Ealing Homestead and explained it was perfect for weddings. I even told her that the late Mary Birdsong, a singer from Austin, had appeared at one of my events. Crystal appreciated that fact. She gave my plans the thumbs-up as Roger returned with her clean dentures, which she wiped carefully with a small cloth before popping them back into her mouth.

  "Roger, Doctor Stratford's plans for our big day are wonderful," Crystal said with a broad smile. She lowered her voice. "Please see Roger about financial payment. We are not expecting you to cut back or offer special deals because of your friendship. No, no, no, this needs to be an all-out, full expense wedding reception. I want you to make your margin, so don't spare the horses."

  Once again, her arm reached into the red-and-white bucket. Between her thumb and forefinger, she retrieved a chicken wing. Chewing on it thoughtfully she rolled her heavy girth to the side, slid around, and eased on to her legs.

  "Doctor Stratford, let me read you something."

  "Please call me Ollie," I said, barely able to speak for the excitement of having signed up another booking.

  Crystal pushed her feet into slippers and shuffled to a small suitcase that sat atop the bedside cabinet. She turned to stare at Roger, then opened the lid, rummaging around until she found what she was looking for. Her hawkish features formed a faint smile as she turned to read from the crumpled sheet of paper in her hand.

  Dear Crystal

  My love for you is undying, no matter the ravages of time, no matter the years that separate us
from our youth for they mean nothing to me. It was never your physical form that I loved but your soul. Crystal, ours is an unbreakable, eternal bond. We are kindred spirits which fate cannot keep apart! I beg you on bended knee to accept my proposal of marriage.

  Yours for eternity,

  Roger Romantic

  "That's so sentimental," I said, a tear forming in my eye.

  We both looked at Roger.

  His lips trembled, and he began to perspire, but he didn't speak.

  Chapter 12

  "Now Ollie, you'll have to excuse me. I'm feeling very tired and must get some rest before the homecoming parade." Crystal turned to Roger. "Please see our guest out."

  Back in the reception room I turned to give my friend a hug. "Roger, I wouldn't believe it if I didn't see it with my own eyes. I hadn't realized you had such a tender side. This must be like a dream come true for you."

  Roger turned to shut the door, his hand rested on the handle, but he didn't draw it closed.

  "Oh dear God," he gasped, forcing himself to meet my gaze then quickly looking away like a frightened rabbit. "It's just there is rather more of Crystal than I remembered and she is so much more vocal than in twelfth grade!"

  "Forty years have passed, there are bound to be some minor differences," I replied. "Give it a few nights sleep and I'm sure you'll remember how chatty she was."

  "What about the spooky music?" he said waving his arms around the room.

  The chanting voices had become little more than background noise. As I focused on their melodic rhythms, a gentle throbbing began behind my eyes and my teeth set on edge.

  "A few hours of Halloween music won't hurt you, Roger," I said, wondering what sort of person plays Halloween music outside of Halloween.

  "Crystal insists on the chants, says it helps her clairvoyant temperament."

  "Clairvoyant temperament?"

  "That's how she earned her living in Los Angeles, as a clairvoyant to the rich and famous."

  "What happened?"

  "Business dried up. Unfortunately, she couldn't foresee that, hence her penniless arrival in Medlin Creek."

  "You'll soon adjust," I said, looking in my handbag for a headache pill. "The good news is that married life speeds up the process of adjustment. When you think about it life is all about adjustment."

  "What about the personal hygiene issue?" Roger sounded desperate.

  "What are you talking about, Roger?" I tried to sound startled but failed.

  "Crystal's been wearing the same clothes for over a week."

  "Well, take her shopping. She'll need a new outfit for the wedding, anyway."

  "Ollie, you don't understand. Crystal says she cannot bathe or shower until after the foretelling."

  "The foretelling, what on earth is that?"

  "I'm not exactly sure. But when the foretelling arrives, Crystal will foretell a future event. Or at least that's what I think she said. The problem is she won't wash or change her clothes until after the foretelling."

  "But you cleaned her dentures," I said, searching for something positive.

  "I guess that's an exception."

  "Any idea when the foretelling is due?"

  "No."

  "Oh," I said and fell silent.

  Roger shuffled to the oversized wingback chair and slumped down. He half closed his eyes.

  Focus on the positive, I told myself. "I'm sure Doctor Tobias will have a pill or something to help you adjust. It's marvelous what medicine can do these days you know."

  "Uh-huh," grunted Roger.

  "You two are going to be very happy." My voice was confident, but as the excitement of securing the booking had faded I was beginning to read between the lines and I didn't like what the sentences spelled.

  "Uh-huh," he grunted again.

  "Roger," I blurted, "you are going to marry Crystal, aren't you?" It should have come out as a confidential whisper but the fear of losing the booking turned it into more of a shout. I regretted my tone when the words came out. But it was too late. Crystal must've heard.

  "Roger," she yelled in a high-pitched squeal. "You promised to marry me after the homecoming parade. I want my wedding!" She was shrieking now.

  Wearily, Roger clambered to his feet and disappeared through the doorway leading to the second level, this time closing the door firmly behind him.

  I glanced around the darkened room. The flaming candles, chanting music, and zodiac-sign rug had transformed Roger's orderly bachelor pad reception area into a clairvoyant parlor. In a corner of the room, on top of a small coffee table, I spotted the source of the cedar and musk scent. A wooden incense burner with two sticks of incense glowing gently in the gloom puffed out their fragrant odor. I shook my head, no longer confident that Roger's eternal, unbreakable bond of love with Crystal could withstand such a sudden transformation.

  "Hello Roger, are you there?"

  The voice came from the entrance to the apartment. It was Millie.

  "Over here Millie, it's me, Ollie."

  "Wow! What's happened to Roger's bachelor pad?" She sniffed the air. "That's cedar and musk, one of my favorites. Oh, and I simply love those chants."

  "You do," said Bob, following her into the apartment. His black-gray dreadlocks fell gently over his shoulder as he squinted in the gloom. His eyes grew wide." Neat, clean Roger Romantic's bachelor pad has turned into a…"

  "Mystic shrine," whispered Millie with a look of wonder.

  Bob shook his head slowly. "Crystal only just moved into town. What will this place look like after she's been here for a month? Where's Roger?"

  "With Crystal," I said. "I'm sure he'll be down in a moment. I'm on my way out. Another busy day for me in Medlin Creek."

  Millie sat cross-legged on the floor, her ears pointed to the speakers. "Oh my goodness, I wish I could make out what the voices are saying. I'm sure it's a love song."

  Bob clucked his tongue, shaking his head in annoyance. "Don't get any ideas, Millie. Voices chanting mumbo-jumbo are off the agenda."

  Millie closed her eyes and swayed from side to side. "I have an awesome sense about Roger and Crystal."

  Bob rolled his eyes.

  The chanting voices grew louder.

  "This room is filled with love," whispered Millie in a mystical voice. "I can almost touch Roger and Crystal's eternal bond."

  As the chanting voices reached a crescendo, a bloodcurdling scream echoed throughout the apartment.

  "What's that?" said Bob, a startled expression in his eyes.

  Just then, Roger came tumbling down the stairs out into the reception area.

  "Come quick, come quick!"

  His hands were trembling as he turned and clambered up the stairs. Millie, Bob, and I followed close behind. The sound of my heartbeat pounded in my ears and my mouth was bone dry as I stumbled up the steps.

  Roger entered the master bedroom first, followed by myself and Millie. Bob stayed by the door, his eyes wide open and his dreadlocks on end.

  Crystal sat slumped like a ragdoll in the chair, her powder-white face twisted into an ugly grimace. But her eyes caused my heart to skip a beat. They were wide open, protruding like golf balls on the green.

  Millie let out a terrified gasp.

  Bob drew a ragged breath.

  I grabbed Roger's arm; he stood frozen in place.

  "Arrgh, the foretelling is upon me," shrieked Crystal, her voice filling the room like a noxious gas. A chubby finger slowly raised and pointed in my direction. I swiveled out of the way and turned to look behind. Bob, wide-eyed, stared back.

  Crystal shifted forward in the chair, her protruding orbs glaring at Bob. He met her gaze for an instant, then as his legs wobbled, looked away. With a soft thud he stumbled into the doorframe.

  "Ouch!"

  His muffled cry mingled with the chanting voices resonating around the darkened room.

  As Bob righted himself, Crystal's eyes rolled upward and she spoke in a haunting voice.

  "Tonight, the
stars will twinkle, and the moon will shine as death and mayhem strike down a swine."

  Chapter 13

  It was a little after one p.m. at Moozoos Café, the tail end of the lunchtime rush lined up at the bar. Millie, Bob, and I sat at a table by the window. Roger stayed at his apartment with Crystal.

  "Oh it is all so exciting," said Millie taking a sip from her cup. "Imagine, marrying a Hollywood star who was a high school sweetheart and a clairvoyant in her spare time."

  "Like a script from a Hollywood movie," I said.

  "Or a plot for a book," added Millie.

  Bob scowled. "Except, Crystal never made it in Hollywood. Seems she failed as a clairvoyant in Los Angeles as well."

  "And then there's the foretelling," said Millie, ignoring Bob's comment. "That would be the climax of the movie and it is going to happen tonight, right here in Medlin Creek!"

  "Oh don't be so silly," replied Bob. "Nothing's going to happen. Certainly not mayhem and death. Mystic Crystal, as she calls herself, is a bit intense but she can't see the future."

  "Death and mayhem will strike down a swine." Millie grinned, stabbing a lean forefinger at Bob.

  I laughed.

  Again, Bob scowled.

  "Nonsense," he said, rising to his feet. "Millie I'll pick you up around six p.m." He turned. "Enjoy the rest of the day Ollie."

  As Bob strolled out of the café, the barista served the last customer and looked over to where we sat. His lopsided eyes slid from Millie to me as his carrot-shaped chin twitched. Then he half closed his eyes and tilted his mango-shaped head so his ears pointed like an electronic receiving set, in our direction.

  Millie continued to speak.

  "I'm telling you Ollie, I could sense an aura in Roger's apartment that wasn't there before."

  "So, you really believe something is going to happen tonight?" I asked.

  Millie lowered her voice to a confidential whisper. "Here or in Austin, or somewhere in Texas."

  "In Medlin Creek?"

  She nodded, her eyes wide open. "If it is here, the story could be my gravy train to a full-time position at the Medlin Creek Times. Got to run," she said, getting to her feet.