Late for Shuffleboard

By M K Scott

The senior sleuths are hot on the trail of a veteran’s murderer and a missing dog in a cold case that’s raising eyebrows
and causing a stir in their tightknit community. The clock is ticking.

Only a few short days before the victim’s home is razed and all the potential evidence is wiped clean.
With new complications at every turn, the Senior Sleuths feel the heat as the impossible deadline approaches.

Can they close this case before the truth is buried for good?

• Language: English
• Publisher: M K Scott
• Release date: Jul 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463589595

M K Scott

M. K. Scott is the husband and wife writing team behind the cozy mystery series. Morgan K Wyatt is the general wordsmith, while her husband, Scott, is the grammar hammer and physics specialist. He uses his engineering skills to explain how fast a body falls when pushed over a cliff and various other felonious activities. The Internet and experts in the field provide forensic information, while the recipes and B and B details require a more hands on approach. The couple’s dog, Chance, is the inspiration behind Jasper, Donna’s dog. Murder Mansion is the first book in The Painted Lady Inn Mysteries. Overall, it is a fun series to create and read.

Book preview

Late for Shuffleboard

By

M K Scott

Copyright © 2019 MK Scott

Smashwords Edition

This eBook is licensed for personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person. Please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and didn’t purchase it, or was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Many thanks for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author.

All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

Chapter One

The long hall in the nursing home echoed with the tap-tap of Lola’s kitten heels. It wasn’t that Herman was any type of fashion expert, but the aging showgirl made a point of telling him things like what kitten heels were. Good heavens! He shook his head, unsettling the style he had created that morning in his mane of white hair. Lola treated him like a girlfriend. The woman smiled at him and waved with a fist full of colored paper.

Yoo-hoo, Herman! So glad to see you.

Her comment caused him to lift his chin and push his shoulders back. It was always good to be greeted by an attractive woman. Even better when said woman was delighted to see him. Hello to you, too. What’s that in your hand? Raffle tickets?

A giggle erupted from her brightly painted lips. Aren’t you a hoot?

Well, he did try. Sometimes, he even succeeded in making a funny. Some say so.

She shook the papers, then divided them so she had some in both hands. They’re flyers for the shuffleboard tournament. I agreed to put them up. She fluttered her eyelashes, thick with mascara. You could help.

The dark, thick lashes had him entranced. Some people claimed the eyebrow was a frame for the eyes, but he was sure it was the eyelashes. He heard more than one female resident remark on Lola’s appearance, claiming she wore too much makeup and was too glittery. A few even grumbled about what could you expect from a former showgirl. Personally, Herman didn’t see what the problem was. If the eyes were the gateway to the soul, Lola just made the entrance more tempting.

Are you going to help me or not? Lola’s voice carried a touch of exasperation.

He had missed something while being captivated by Lola’s twinkling eyes. A gentleman was always ready to lend a lady a helping hand. Added to that sentiment, he had nothing else to do, which had forced him out into the hall looking for a distraction. Of course.

Good. Lola’s eyes sparkled as she shoved some flyers at him. There is your share. I’m doing wings E through G. You can do A through D. Ask Connie at the front desk for tape since I only have one roll.

Herman nodded as he took the flyers, then watched Lola continue down the hall. As far as distractions went, this was not what he wanted. He could have stayed in his room and watched old reruns of shows from his younger years. A hoarse chuckle sounded behind him, startling him.

Dang it, Gus! I told you about sneaking up on me. His friend and veteran had decided it was great fun to silently walk up behind people and scare the daylights out of them. In the service, he had been an explosives ordinance specialist, which at the time involved walking carefully and waving a long stick. He joked about keeping his bomb-defusing skills. Occasionally, a pair of wire clippers were provided, too.

His friend laughed even harder. He slapped Herman on the shoulder, moved into view, and remarked, I see Lola trapped you.

What do you mean? He had his suspicions but was willing to play into Gus’s hands. Besides, he had some Tom Sawyer whitewashing to do. Like the fictional character who got others to help him to paint a fence by pretending it was fun, Gus would be soon taping up flyers.

Gus replied. Oh, you know. A fluttering of the eyelashes, a promising smile, and I’m so glad to see you comment before asking for help.

Didn’t all those things already happen? Herman’s bushy brows went together as he realized he had been truly played. I assume Lola did the same thing to you?

She tried. I was with Eunice, who shut her down toot sweet. I’m not sure, but I think there’s some bad blood between Eunice and Lola. If one wants to do something, the other won’t, just on principle. Besides, she’s not one to be taken in by flattery.

Really? Herman managed to push up his eyebrows in an effort to look intrigued. Anyone with ears would know Eunice and Lola weren’t the best of friends. Maybe you could tell me more. Go ask Connie for some tape. She likes you better.

True, Gus acknowledged as he buffed the nails of his right hand against his plaid shirt. I do have a way with women.

Herman watched his friend converse with the receptionist and obtain a roll of tape. Eunice might not be taken in by empty flattery. However, Gus was—every time. The secret to handing over the flyers was not to do it immediately. He’d expect that. He’d be anticipating his move. If his career in sales taught him nothing, it taught him to wait and the power of small talk. Simple chatter revealed hooks to appeal to a potential client. After spending enough time talking with someone, they assumed a vague relationship. With any luck, it was enough of one that the person might try whatever he was selling. It was easy to turn down a stranger, but not a new friend.

When Gus returned, Herman thanked him and showed him a flyer. Do you know anything about this shuffleboard tournament?

Gus squinted at the brightly colored flyer for a few seconds longer than needed to read it, then gave a slight snort. It’s an answer to the question of why is bingo all we play?

Figures. The man couldn’t read it without glasses and refused to admit it. Herman made an expansive gesture with his hand indicating the hallway. I’m supposed to do wings A-D. Have you ever tried shuffleboard?

The overhead light put a shine on Gus’s bald pate as he shook his head. I’m familiar with it. I think people used to play it on cruise ships. Canadians love it.

Yeah, right. I think you mean curling. I think they are somewhat alike only one uses a broom. Not sure which one. Herman pulled a flyer out of the bunch and placed it at eye level on the nearby wall. Give me some tape. Make it two pieces.

A slight ripping sound accompanied his directions. Herman taped up the sign. One down and about a gazillion to go. Everyone should be able to see that, especially since it’s in screaming pink.

"That’s shocking pink, Gus corrected. C’mon, man. You should know better. I know Lola is trying to help you with your fashion knowledge."

Not sure why. He angled his head. Let’s go, we have more to do. He’d hoped to ease into the part about Gus helping, but his friend wasn’t making it easy by correcting him. Never mind he’d pointed out Gus had confused curling and shuffleboard. So far, his plan to solicit help hadn’t worked. If Lola couldn’t get Gus to help, what chance did he have?

Wait. What about here? His friend tapped about a foot underneath the current flyer.

The wall was a bit scarred from its interaction with carts and wheelchairs, but other than that Herman couldn’t figure out what was the issue. Sure, the wall could use some cleaning. Spring is here. I imagine housekeeping will get around to it.

Gus kept his hand on the wall and smirked. Think. Whose eyes would be at this level?

Someone’s visiting grandchild? A dwarf? He paused as he tried to consider extremely short people in the facility. Juanita on E Wing?

Ha! I never even thought of her. You got that right. His lips twisted into a smirk. I was thinking of our wheelchair bound friends.

You’re right. He squatted to place an additional flyer near Gus’s hand. You think they play?

Why not? Gus taped the flyer to the wall without even being asked to do it. It’s a simple enough game, the way we’re playing it. Chalk triangles with numbers are already drawn in the courtyard and all you have to do is push this round doohickey with a stick. Ideally, you want to get it on the number part. Heard tell this game has been played for centuries. I imagine your chances are even better sitting down since you’re closer to the ground and can see better.

The man might actually have a point. That makes sense. How did you come to know so much about shuffleboard?

Ha! Gus did a shuffling sidestep. Ooo-wee! You can’t stand it when someone knows more about something than you. You’re not the walking encyclopedia anymore.

Despite his seven-plus decades on earth along with his explosives experience, the man could be such a child at times. I never said I was a walking encyclopedia. It just doesn’t sound like stuff you normally talk about.

Gus placed his hands on his hips. "You are the expert on me now? Maybe I should consult with you on what to have for dinner."

You’ll have lasagna and like it since that’s what’s on the menu.

"Yeah, there is that. His hand went back to rubbing his neck. I’ll like it, too. Did you know that shuffleboard originated in England?"

No, he didn’t and wasn’t ready for fun and not so fun facts about the game. The squeak of rubber-soled shoes on the waxed floor had him turning to witness a red-faced Eunice heading their way. The woman pressed a hand to her chest as she spoke.

Let me catch my breath. She inhaled loudly as she rested the other hand against the wall. Okay. She dropped the hand positioned over her heart. I’m grateful I’m still able to run all over Kingdom Come to find you two. Eunice blew out a deep breath and drew herself up to her full height as she announced, It’s time to assemble the crime solvers.

Since Marcy, a wounded detective, had entered the convalescent center to recover, the six of them had formed a cold crimes unit they referred to as Senior Sleuths. Together, they had solved two local crimes the police had given up on after the clues had gone cold, and they didn’t have the time due to more pressing crimes. The senior sleuths had plenty of time, and their wits were still sharp enough to pick up on missed clues. Often, they were things most would never even consider a clue. With unlimited free time, the sleuths could stare at a crime scene photo for hours with a magnifying glass and uncover the tiniest hint.

Herman gave the woman a long-suffering glance and audibly sighed. Despite Gus’s affection for the nosy busybody, he still had issues with the woman. She was always doing things like sneaking up on people in mid-conversation, hoping to hear something. His shoulders went up as he remembered her hiding away in his car when he and his buddies decided to head down to North Carolina for his friends’ wedding. Goodness! She had no boundaries. Someone needed to shut her up.

Gus smiled and nodded in Eunice’s direction. Did Marcy send you to find us?

Obviously, Gus would not be the one to put her in her place, as if any man could.

The simple inquiry resulted in a girlish giggle, and Eunice patted her sometime beau’s arm. Of course not, sweetie.

It looked like they were back together. Herman caught himself sighing again. This meant he would have to hear endless terms of endearments such as sweet cheeks, honeybun, pumpkin, and snookums. It was enough to gag a thinking man. This would go on until Gus unintentionally did something wrong, which he always did. Eunice would pull the cord on the glowing looks and arm patting until Gus somehow won her back.

Herman never asked for the details, and he didn’t want to know how far his friend sank for a little companionship. Wasn’t it enough just to have friends around? Why did everyone think they had to pair off in twos as if they were marching onto the ark? All he knew was he had enough of this conversation. He’d take his flyers and go. At least he could finish posting them all for Lola. Still, he couldn’t resist a parting sally. Did your psychic sense tell you there was another cold case coming?

Nope. Better. Eunice narrowed her eyes at Herman. The woman was no dummy and knew she was being baited. I saw Lance in the parking lot, and he was heading toward Marcy’s wing.

Lance, Marcy’s former partner, often brought her cold cases to keep her mind active and to let her feel she was still a vital part of the force. What was obvious to Herman, if not for the others, was the detective carried a major torch for his wounded partner. Lance found a variety of excuses to drop by for a visit with only a fraction being cold case deliveries.

As clues go, that isn’t the best. I thought you were better than that.

Not totally sure what got into him, he saw his comment as a mean-spirited jab unworthy of him. It was spring and supposedly young men’s thoughts turned to love. That had to be it. He was no longer a young man. After the long winter, he was restless, discontented, and in the need of some type of diversion.

Hardy, har har! Eunice forced out the words and gave a fast, upward swing of her chin. Her fists balled and found purchase on her hips, which had Gus stepping back. The woman had assumed her fighting stance. You think you know so much. Want to bet on it?

Bet. The word danced up and down his spinal cord, sending messages to all of his senses. The thrill of gambling sang its siren song. Everyone had a vice, although some people pretended their vice was an attribute. A hoarder referred to their boxes of objects as a collection. A wino, when sober, could tell you he was a connoisseur. As for him, Herman considered himself adventurous. He was willing to bet on anything and whatever he won, he promptly gambled away. As a bachelor, he had no one to rein him in or complain about all the money he wasted.

Yeah, I’d like to bet. Five bucks.

The woman’s delighted smile worried him, but she stuck out her hand to shake, and Herman did likewise. Eunice turned to Gus and said, You’re our witness.

You betcha, my treasure.

The momentary elation Herman felt at the bet melted away with the endearment. Talk about a killjoy.

Eunice gave him a sharp nod before she spoke. You never let me tell you that Lance was carrying a manila folder and one of those brown envelopes they keep the crime photos in.

Seriously? She’d snookered him. For Pete’s sake! You did that on purpose!

She shrugged her shoulders and giggled, which resulted in Gus joining in. She shook her bony index finger. No one forced you to make the bet.

Gus opened