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Surprisingly, the cast iron cat doorstop owner, whose name was Carol, agreed to meet Calvin and Gertrude in the McDonald’s parking lot at five.
“Hi, I’m Ger—”
Calvin elbowed her in the ribs.
“Ow!” she exclaimed. “Ahem. I’m Hazel.”
“Hi, Hazel. Here’s your cat.” She handed the iron doorstop through her driver’s side window. Gertrude took it and almost dropped it. “Wowsa! That’s a heavy son of a gun. Would you take ten?”
Carol looked horrified. “No, I won’t take ten! When you set up a VardSale meet, you agree to the price. You want to haggle, you do it online, not once I’ve driven all the way into Mattawooptock!”
“All right, all right, I’ll give you twenty. Calvin, give her twenty bucks.”
Calvin looked annoyed, but not necessarily surprised, as he pulled out his wallet.
“I’m sorry, Carol, I’m new to this VardSale thing.”
“That’s all right,” Carol said, although it was clear that it wasn’t.
“Are you?” Gertrude asked.
“Am I what?”
“New to VardSale?”
“No, I’m not new. I’ve been doing this for months now.”
“Oh. Do you make any money at it?”
Carol hesitated. “A little. Why?”
“Oh, I was just thinking about selling some stuff of my own.” She handed the cat to Calvin. “Take this thing, would you? It hurts my back just to hold it. Thing must weigh fifty pounds.”
Calvin was obviously miffed, but he took the cat and put it in the trunk.
“All right then. You have a nice day,” Carol said.
“Wait!” Gertrude cried.
“What?” Carol asked, startled.
“Have you ever dealt with anyone named Patsy Pelotte?”
“No, why?”
“Just wondering. Have you ever dealt with anyone suspicious, anyone who made you feel a little, well, uncomfortable?”
“You mean other than you? No.”
“Well, that was rude!” Gertrude said, appalled.
Calvin returned to her side then and gave her a look that said, “Calm down!”
Gertrude tried to ignore him. “Have you seen anything out of the ordinary?” she asked Carol. “Anything at all?”
“Actually, now that you mention it,” Carol said reluctantly, “something unusual did happen the other day. I was supposed to meet a woman named Martha—”
“Martha who?” Gertrude interrupted.
Carol thought. “Martha ... Giles. Anyway, I was running late, and she texted me from the parking lot, said she was there, but when I got there, she was gone. And her car was just sitting there. That was pretty weird.”
“And you didn’t tell anyone?”
“Who am I going to tell? I didn’t know where she was. I don’t even know her. I just figured she gave up on me.”
And left her car? What are the chances of that? “All right then. Where was her car?”
“At the Catholic church.”
“Was there anyone else around?” Gertrude asked.
“No. It’s a popular place for VardSalers to meet. Nice big parking lot, right off the main drag, but no, when I got there, there was no one else around.”
“All right, then. Look, Carol, I know we got off to a rough start, but can I give you my business card? In case you think of anything else you can tell me?”
Calvin elbowed Gertrude in the ribs again.
“Ow!” she exclaimed, and reached into her walker pouch. Then she held out the card. Carol reached out and took it.
“Gertrude, Gumshoe?” she read, and then looked up at Gertrude, an eyebrow raised.
“That’s right,” Gertrude said.
“I thought your name was Hazel.”