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Trixie still wasn’t home. Gertrude and Calvin sat there, in the car, staring up at her empty abode.
“Private Eyes has food,” Gertrude said.
“I’m not going back in there. I told you that already. I’m not going to change my mind about that.”
“OK then, just go drop me off. I’ll just call you if I need anything.”
“How are you going to call me?” Calvin asked.
“With my shiny Samsung.”
“I know, but I don’t have a cell phone, so what number do you plan to dial?”
“Oh shoot, we should go get some walkie talkies!” Gertrude exclaimed.
Calvin groaned. “I’m not spending any more money on this insanity.”
“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve got a whole collection of walkie talkies back at my place. Let’s go!”
Calvin backed out into the street with a look on his face that fully amused Gertrude. He actually looked excited. But by the end of the five-minute drive back across town to Gertrude’s trailer park, he had managed to hide whatever excitement still existed. He pulled into Gertrude’s short driveway. She opened her door.
“You coming?” she asked.
Calvin looked at her trailer skeptically. “I’m not sure I should.”
“Oh, don’t be such a lily-liver. Come on.”
Grudgingly, Calvin got out of his car, and with great trepidation, he ascended the few steps to Gertrude’s door, which she had already flung open. He stepped inside and gasped.
His eyes scanned the trailer, growing wider and wider as they did so. After several seconds, his eyes rested on a neatly stacked collection of lampshades.
“Gertrude?” Calvin asked.
“Yeah?” Gertrude called, already out of sight amid the stacks.
“How many lampshades does one woman need?”
“You never know!” Gertrude called out. “Someone might have a lampshade crisis!”
As Calvin stared disbelievingly at the lampshade tower, a cat weaved through his legs, and Calvin let out a high-pitched wail.
Gertrude came hurrying back, a box balanced atop her walker. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Calvin said, panting, and leaning on a stack of encyclopedias, “just a cat.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Gertrude said. “I thought the mayor had gotten you. Here, pick out one you like.” She pushed her walker closer to Calvin, so he could peer in at the collection of walkie talkies.
“Gertrude, do any of these actually work?”
“Oh sure. I’m sure some of them do. We should probably test them before push comes to shove.”
“Right.” He reached in and grabbed one gingerly. Then he blew on it, and a cloud of dust flew off. He turned it on. “I’ll be darned.”
“What?”
“It appears to be working,” Calvin said, astounded.
Gertrude pulled another one out of the box. It looked like something straight out of a World War II museum. She turned it on. “Channel 67,” she said.
Calvin looked down. “I’m already there,” he said.
“Hello?!” Gertrude hollered into her walkie.
“Good grief, Gertrude! I’m right here! You don’t need to holler!”
“Did you hear me?” Gertrude asked.
“Yes, everyone in the county heard you!”
“No, I mean, did you hear me the through the walkie talkie?”
“How should I know? I’m deaf now!”
Gertrude stared at him blankly.
Calvin took a deep breath. “OK, let’s try again. Take six steps away from me, and then whisper into the radio.”
Gertrude nodded. She turned to walk away, wondering why he was taking this whole sound check thing quite so seriously. She stepped around a corner in her path so she was out of sight. “Are you ready?” she called out.
“Yes!” Calvin said, sounding utterly exasperated.
“Hello?” she whispered into the walkie. “Are you there?”
Calvin laughed. “Man, if anyone else is manning this channel, they just got the fright of their lives.”
“Why?” Gertrude asked, coming back around the corner.
“Because you just sounded like an irate Miss Trunchbull.”
“Who’s Miss Trunchbull?”
“Never mind,” Calvin said.
“So, it worked?”
“Yes, it worked,” Calvin said.
“Great, let me just grab some extra batteries.” She disappeared into the stacks again, and returned seconds later with a plastic grocery bag full of batteries.
“I doubt we’ll need that many, Gertrude,” Calvin said.
“You never know,” Gertrude said, heading for the door.
“Right, ’cause there might be a battery crisis,” Calvin said, and followed her.
––––––––
Calvin drove Gertrude back to Private Eyes and then parked in the back.
“What are you going to do while I’m gone?” she asked him.
“Sleep.”
“Well, then how am I going to call you for help if you’re asleep?”
Calvin reclined his seat with a thump. “I’m a light sleeper.”
“Calvin! I’m relying on you for my safety!”
He laughed as he settled in and closed his eyes. “Well, then you’d better not get yourself into any danger.” He put his arm over his eyes.
Gertrude just sat there staring at him.
“Just go,” he said, without moving his arm to see her. “I predict you get bored and come back within twenty minutes.”
“Fine,” Gertrude said. She flung the door open and hefted herself out of the car. I’m going to show him. I won’t get bored. I won’t come back to the car. I’m going to stay in this strip club all night if it kills me.
Gertrude was back in twenty minutes.
“Told you so,” Calvin muttered.
“I’m not back,” she said. “I just need some cash. I had enough to get in, but it turns out they won’t let me just sit there without drinking something.”
“Oh great,” Calvin said, “so when you do come back, you’ll be all sauced? I’m not sure I can handle a drunken Gertrude. I can barely stand you sober.”
“Oh, just give me the money already. I’m just going to drink ginger ale.”
He handed her a twenty. “I expect you to pay me back for this.”
“Of course,” she said, taking the twenty. “Every penny.” She shut the door, wondering if there was a reward for catching Lori’s killer. There should be, she decided.
Gertrude went back into the bar, settled back into the chair she’d left, and ordered a ginger ale from the wary waitress.
“That’ll be two dollars,” the woman in the pink bikini said.
“Two dollars? For a soda? Are you bonkers?”
The woman put her hand on her hip and sighed. “Do you want the drink, or not?”
“Don’t you get cold?” Gertrude asked.
“How ’bout I go get the manager?” she said.
“OK, OK, here’s a twenty. How ’bout you run me a tab?” (She’d always wanted to say that.) “Just let me know when I’m getting close to twenty dollars, and then cut me off.” She laughed. The woman didn’t. She snatched the twenty out of Gertrude’s hand and turned to go. Some people just have no sense of humor.
Gertrude turned her attention to the small stage, but nothing was happening there yet. She looked around the dimly lit establishment for Trixie, but didn’t see her. She got up and headed for the back, where she knew the dressing room was.
She made it all the way to the back wall when a man approached her. “Can I help you?” he said pleasantly enough.
“Yes, I’m looking for Trixie.”
“OK,” he said, “well, she’ll be dancing a little later.”
“So she’s OK?” Gertrude asked.
“Yes, why wouldn’t she be?” he asked.
“I mean, you’ve actually seen her?”
The man stared at her. “Yes. I’ve seen her,” he said very slowly.
“OK then. I’ll just go back to my table and wait for her turn at the pole.” Gertrude gave him a fake smile and turned back toward her table.
Gertrude had drank four glasses of ginger ale and made three trips to the bathroom when she realized she was undeniably, miserably bored. Much unlike her expectations, the strip club was an incredibly dull place to hang out. The dancers were certainly talented young ladies, but their routines were spectacularly redundant, and Gertrude had quickly grown tired of watching the front row of men watch these redundant routines, enraptured. Trixie had been out to dance, twice, and then had disappeared into the back again. By the time the server approached her to offer her another refill, Gertrude had learned her name was Candy.
“Candy, this jitterbug has games on it, right?”
Candy looked at the phone in Gertrude’s hand.
“Yeah,” she said.
“Can you show me how to find one? I’m incredibly bored.”
Candy set her small tray down on Gertrude’s table. “Why are you here?”
“I like ginger ale.”
“No, really,” Candy repeated. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me, but it just seems pretty weird.”
“I’m waiting for Trixie,” Gertrude said.
“Trixie’s here.”
“I know.”
“Well, do you want me to go get her for you?” Candy offered.
“No, thank you.”
Candy eyed Gertrude carefully. “Well, then why are you waiting for her?”
“I’m just here for her protection.”
Candy stared at Gertrude for several seconds and then just turned and walked away.
Finally, the interminable evening appeared to be coming to an end. Trixie was at the pole when the bartender rang a bell and hollered, “Last call.” Gertrude had long since polished off her tenth and final ginger ale. Two songs later, Trixie gave a final twirl and then stepped off the stage and headed toward the back. Two men started escorting people toward the door. Gertrude headed toward the back. One of the men took her by the arm. “Time to go,” he said.
“I’m going,” Gertrude said. “I’m just going to go with Trixie.”
“No, you’re not.”
Gertrude kept going in her own direction, and the man physically prevented her from doing so. “Get your hands off me!” Gertrude cried. She was so frustrated she wanted to scream. Who did this guy think he was?
Another man appeared on the other side of her and took her by the other arm. She did scream. She screamed at the top of her lungs, and she started to wiggle her whole body with all her might. This only caused them to tighten their grips. They began pulling her toward the door, the second man dragging the walker along behind him. And in this way, they actually pushed Gertrude out of the closed club and into the nighttime dark. As they slammed and locked the door behind her, she stopped screaming.
She had absolutely no idea where Trixie was.
She groaned and began to walk around the building to the back, where Calvin was parked. She was about halfway down the narrow alley that led to the small parking lot in the back when a door to her left opened, scaring the wits right out of her. She would’ve screamed, but she was all screamed out.