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The next morning, Gertrude woke to her cell ringing. It was Andy.
“You were right,” he said, which were three of Gertrude’s very favorite words. “Hale said Martha Giles is missing too.”
“And no one reported it?”
“Apparently she’s an older woman, lives alone. No family to notice her missing. Also, he can’t find records of anyone named Patsy Pelotte. No one named Patsy works at New Balance, either.”
“I see,” Gertrude said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes with her free hand. The sunlight was bright through her window. She had overslept. “Oh, fiddlesticks!”
“What?”
“Oh, nothing to worry about. I’m just running a bit behind. Got to get going. I’m meeting with people from VardSale, to question them.”
“How much are we up to now?”
“How much what?”
“Money?”
I have no idea, haven’t been counting. “Three hours.”
Andy was silent.
“It’s all right, Andy. I want to find Samantha. I’ll do what I can, and you pay me what you can, when you can. I’m not worried about the money.”
“OK, thanks, Gertrude. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. You keep in touch. I am grateful for you being my go-between with Hale. I really don’t like talking to that man. He’s a meanieface.”
Gertrude hung up the phone, fed the cats, hurriedly got ready, and then tried to look casual as she strode over to Calvin’s house.
“Was starting to think you’d overslept,” Calvin said when he opened the door.
“Me? Never! I get up with the roosters!” She stifled a yawn.
“OK, well, let’s go, Foghorn.”
Gertrude chortled. “If I’m Foghorn, does that make you Miss Prissy?”
Calvin opened the rear door of the Cadillac so that Gertrude could stow her walker inside. Then they both climbed into the front.
“Wowsa, it’s already warm out,” Gertrude said. “Going to be another scorcher, I think.”
Calvin didn’t say anything, but he did turn up the air conditioner.
As Calvin drove, Gertrude filled him in on what Andy had told her about the missing Martha Giles.
“It’s kind of weird, isn’t it?” Calvin remarked.
“What?”
“Having an actual client? Someone who actually wants our help?”
“You could get used to this, couldn’t you?” Gertrude said.
Calvin seemed to come back to himself. “I didn’t say that. I’m liable to get myself killed before that happens. You hungry?”
“I could eat.”
Calvin took Gertrude through the drive through. They each got a sausage biscuit and a coffee. He paid, of course. Then they parked where Penny had told them to.
“Why are we parked by the dumpster?” he complained.
“I dunno. Guess so we’ll be out of the way.”
“Well this is a stinky, unsanitary place to hang out.”
“Stop grumbling, you old grump.”
“What are we buying from this one again?” Calvin asked.
Gertrude took another bite of her biscuit and then said through a full mouth, “Pencil sharpener.”
“Who the heck sells a pencil sharpener? Aren’t they like ten cents new?”
Gertrude swallowed. “No, this is an electric pencil sharpener. Plugs right into the wall. Nifty, right? And she’s only asking a dollar. Excellent deal.”
“You go through a lot of pencils, do you?”
“I do, as a matter of fact! With my word searches.”
“You do word searches?”
“You don’t know everything there is to know about me, Calvin.”
“I guess not,” Calvin said and took a sip of his coffee. Then he promptly yanked the cup away from his lip as if it had bitten him. “Ow!” he exclaimed. “Why do they have to make this so dang hot?”
As he was sticking his tongue out and fanning it with one hand, a silver F150 pulled up beside them.
“This must be her,” Gertrude said, and got out of the car. “Hi,” she said to the woman in the Ford. “I’m Hazel. Are you Penny?”
“I am,” she said, and handed the pencil sharpener out through the window.
“Do you know Samantha Cooper?” Gertrude asked.
Penny’s face scrunched up. “Don’t think so,” she said, still holding the pencil sharpener outstretched.
Gertrude leaned toward her, trying to see if she was lying.
“What?” Penny asked.
Gertrude pulled Samantha’s photo out of her pocket. “Do you recognize this woman?”
Penny leaned away from Gertrude. “What’s this about?”
“How about Martha Giles? Do you know her?”
“No. Wait. Actually, yeah. I think I’ve bought a few things from her before. Why?”
“Have you ever kidnapped anyone?” Gertrude asked.
“Excuse me?”
Calvin, now standing behind Gertrude, cleared his throat. Gertrude jumped. She hadn’t heard him get out of the car. “Um, Hazel, why don’t you give this young lady her dollar, and let her get on her way?”
Gertrude looked over her shoulder at him. “I’m just asking a few questions.”
“I know.” He gave her a stern look she found most annoying.
“Fine,” she said, and handed the dollar through the window. Then she started to get back into Calvin’s car.
“Don’t you want this?” Penny asked, still holding the pencil sharpener.
“Yes, of course. I’ll take that,” Calvin said. “You have a nice day.” Then Calvin and his new pencil sharpener got back into his car. Penny pulled away so fast, her tires squealed. “Well that was probably the most uncomfortable dollar she’s ever earned,” Calvin said, turning sideways to place the pencil sharpener in the backseat.
“You wanna tell me what that was all about?” Gertrude asked. She was so livid, her hands were shaking.
“Gertrude, you can’t talk to people like that!”
“I was just asking if she was the kidnapper!”
“And what did you expect her to say, ‘Why yes, as a matter of fact, I am the kidnapper. Now would you please be so kind as to put the handcuffs on me? But first, here’s your pencil sharpener.’”
“No. Obviously. If she was the kidnapper, I would have expected her to lie. And then I would’ve known she was lying. And I would have told Hale she was the bad guy.”
“OK, fine. I was just trying to help. Next time, we’ll do it your way. But just so you know, you’re making a fool of yourself.”
“Fine,” Gertrude said.
“Fine,” Calvin agreed.
“I didn’t even get to ask about Patsy,” Gertrude muttered.
They sat there silently for a long minute. Gertrude started feeling guilty about being cross with Calvin. She kind of needed him. She didn’t think Norman would sit next to the McDonald’s dumpster with her. “Want to go get some milkshakes? My treat.”
“Your treat?” Calvin asked, incredulous.
“Well, yes. I have a coupon.”
“Then why didn’t you use it on the biscuit and coffee I bought you?”
“It’s not a biscuit-and-coffee coupon. It’s a milkshake coupon. Buy one get one free.”
“Do we have time before our next meet?”
“Oh yeah, plenty of time.”
“Fine then,” Calvin gave in. “A milkshake would be delightful.”
Gertrude made no move to get out of the car.
“Well? Do I have to go in and get it?”
“No, but can you take me through the drive through?”
“Gertrude, the door is twenty feet away!”
“I know, but my back is sore. And how am I supposed to lug two milkshakes with my walker? Come on. Be a sport.”
Calvin made no move to start the car.
“Pretty please with pickles on top?”
Calvin chuckled wearily. “Fine.” He backed out of their spot and then rolled the car around the restaurant to get into the drive-through lane. Then he groaned. “I should’ve just walked in. Now we’re going to miss our meet because we’re stuck in line.”
“Oh, stop it. We have plenty of time. Besides, there are two lanes. See?”
“That’s just an illusion,” Calvin said. “It doesn’t make things any faster. It just makes you think you’re moving faster.”
Several minutes later, they pulled up to the squawk box. Gertrude leaned over across Calvin’s lap to stick her face out the window. He pressed himself back against the seat.
“Welcome to McDonald’s! Would you like to try our new sweet potato fries?” the box said.
“No!” Gertrude hollered at the box, well beyond annoyed. “We want two small milkshakes! I have a coupon! It says B-O-G-O.” She spelled it out as if she were in a spelling bee with judges who were hard of hearing.
“OK, what flavors would you like?” the box asked with an admirable lack of emotion.
Gertrude looked at Calvin, whose face was only inches from her own. “What kind do you want?” she whispered.
“Vanilla,” he whispered back. “And can you get off me?”
“I’ll have one vanilla shake,” she hollered out the window.
“OK, and what flavor would you like for the second shake?” the box said.
Gertrude stayed where she was, not saying a word.
“Gertrude,” Calvin prodded.
“What?” Gertrude asked.
“What kind do you want? We’re holding up the line.”
“I’m trying to decide!” she whispered to Calvin. Then she hollered at the box, “I can’t decide. Can you just mix all three flavors together into one shake?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the voice in the box said, as if he got this request all the time. “Please pull ahead to the first window.”
Gertrude fell back into her own seat, and Calvin let out a big puff of air. He put the car in drive and rolled to the first window.
“I really wish they wouldn’t call me ma’am,” Gertrude said.
When they finally got back to their spot by the dumpster, Jen and her snow globe were waiting in a blue Oldsmobile.
“Aw, shucks. We’re late,” Gertrude said.
“I told you so.”
“That’ll be enough out of you,” Gertrude said. “Here, hold my shake.”
“There’s a cup holder right there,” Calvin said.
“Oh. Fancy!” Gertrude slid the shake into the slot. Then she climbed out of the car.
“Are you Hazel?” Jen was an attractive older woman whose voice was soft and grandmotherly.
“I sure am!”
“Here you go, then.” Jen handed Gertrude the snow globe.
“Thanks,” Gertrude said, and handed Jen the money. She was wondering if she was too tired to get through her questions when Jen broke the silence.
“Thanks for taking that off my hands. Ever since I read Under the Dome, my snow globes have made me nervous.”
“Snow globes?” Gertrude repeated. “As in you have a collection?”
“Well, not anymore. That’s my last one. Took a while to sell that one, on account of the giraffe’s head being broken off.”
Gertrude squinted into the snow globe. Sure enough, the giraffe was headless. She hadn’t noticed that in the photograph online. How does a head get chopped off inside a snow globe? Isn’t that the safest place for a head to be? Gertrude realized she was staring into the snow globe as if it were a crystal ball. She looked up at Jen. “Why is there a giraffe in the snow globe?”
Jen laughed. “I got it at the Boston Zoo.”
“Ah, I see. So, do you know Samantha Cooper?”
“Nope, can’t say as I do. Why, she a snow globe collector too?”
“Ah, no, not that I know of. How about Martha Giles?”
Jen frowned. “No. But I’m not very good with names.” She shifted in her seat.
Gertrude sensed she was losing her. She pushed the next question out quickly. “Did you ever deal with anyone named Patsy Pelotte?”
A look of recognition flashed across Jen’s face. “Not positive, but I did chat with someone named Patsy about the snow globes a few times. We could never coordinate a meet though. She was always wanting to meet in weird areas after dark. Sorry, I’m just too nervous for that.”
“Not nervous, just wise. You’re a smart woman, Jen.”
Jen smiled.
“Well, it might not be anything, but I think this Patsy lady is a bad apple, and I’m trying to track her down. Can I give you my business card, in case you think of anything else about her?”
Jen didn’t look excited, but she took the outstretched card. She looked down at it, and then looked up at Gertrude. “I thought your name was Hazel?”