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I WOKE UP TO A BLUE TV screen. Gertie was gone along with the brownies, but I was starving so I stumbled to the kitchen and tossed a sandwich together before heading upstairs. When I jumped into bed, Merlin gave me an indignant scold before he hopped to the floor, his tail twitching. By seven he was back, and he interrupted his bath to give me a warning that translated Don't shake my bed again!
I climbed out and got ready for the day, hoping we would have smooth sailing in our quest to contact Mary Vanderford. I was quickly disabused of that idea when I joined the team for breakfast at Francine's.
"What's up?" I asked as I took my usual seat in the back, facing the door.
"Gertie called the Vanderfords last night and ran into a brick wall," Ida Belle said.
"The young woman I talked to acted like I was a threat to her family and national security—in that order," Gertie stated. "She wouldn't even confirm that Mary Smith-Vanderford existed, let alone admit to being related." We paused to give our orders, and then Gertie resumed her report. "One interesting thing I discovered is that Mary declared bankruptcy two years ago. I bet she was forced to move in with her son's family in Molten."
"I guess we have no choice but to do some good old-fashioned surveillance work today," I said. "We'll need something less conspicuous than your Cadillac, Gertie."
Ida Belle raised her keys. "I'm already on it. I packed binoculars, cameras with zoom lenses, and the long-range audio amplifier."
"And I took the liberty of including a few disguises," Gertie added.
"I don't think those will be necessary unless we're returning to Harmony for another crash driving course," Ida Belle said. "But then we'd have to take your car, wouldn't we?"
"Very funny," Gertie sniffed. "Someday you'll thank me for having your back."
"Well, it won't be today," Ida Belle declared. "I hope you don't plan on filling up the back of my Blazer with junk."
"It's not junk." Gertie waved her hand, insisting everything she brought was necessary. Ida Belle sighed, and I knew she was imagining Gertie's necessities—wigs, gaudy jewelry, and probably a feather boa. She didn't get the chance to question Gertie further because our food arrived and we gave it the attention it deserved. After we finished, Gertie gave us the address of the Vanderfords that she had called.
"Molten's only about thirty minutes from here," Ida Belle said as we got into the Blazer. "Once we get there, we can use the GPS to locate the Vanderford house."
It didn't take long to find the right place, but nearly two hours later we were tired of sitting in the Blazer and watching the house. When we first pulled into the neighborhood, Ida Belle parked down the street so we could check things out. We waited, hoping Mary would leave so we could follow her, but there was no activity and we gradually moved close enough to use binoculars and the audio amplifier.
The binoculars were discarded as the Vanderford's window blinds were closed. After an hour of listening to off-key humming, we gave up on the amplifier and simply watched for signs of life.
"I'm nearly comatose," Ida Belle said.
I agreed. "I haven't seen signs that anyone else is watching the place. I don't know if that's good or bad."
"Well, I've about had it," Gertie declared. "I'm going to knock on the door and talk to her. I don't think we have anything to lose."
I expected her to ask for time to don a disguise, but she didn't say anything and jumped out of the Blazer. I crouched down with my binoculars aimed at the front door while Ida Belle kept an eye on the windows.
The front door opened after one knock, and I watched the exchange. Gertie was smiling and friendly. Mrs. Vanderford was not. The conversation lasted a few minutes and ended with the woman giving Gertie a superior smile. She shook her head and flapped her hands in a shooing motion. Then she shut the door, and Gertie returned.
"Find another place to park for a bit," she directed Ida Belle, who drove a few blocks and stopped next to the curb. Gertie explained what had happened. "I told her the truth, hoping she could see I was sincere, and I thought I had convinced her. But then she changed her mind and told me it was just another con and she wasn't falling for it. I pressed her to speak with Mary and told her I could verify my story. Then she gave me that 'I'm smarter than you' look. However, she slipped and told me her mother-in-law wouldn't fall for my lies either and not to come back or she'd call the police."
"So how does that help us?" Ida Belle asked.
"We know Mrs. Vanderford is her mother-in-law," Gertie replied.
"Oh, for Pete's sake! Gertie, nearly every woman's mother-in-law shares the same last name!" Ida Belle growled.
"Well, I meant that she implied that Mary lived with them." Gertie sounded miffed that Ida Belle didn't find her information useful.
To be honest, it wasn't much help, but I didn't see that Gertie's actions hurt us in any way either. I checked my watch and proposed an early lunch. We all needed a break from the monotony of watching the sun pass over the Vanderford home. We turned down fast food for a small diner on Main Street, hoping it was Molten's version of Francine's.
I was disappointed to see the back tables were occupied, but we found an empty spot next to a sidewall and seated ourselves. The curiosity of the customers didn't bother me because I knew it was the same in most small communities. A smiling waitress took our orders, and I sat back to study the diners, wondering how often Mary ate at this place.
The front door opened, and Gertie stiffened. "That's the daughter-in-law," she whispered, taking a small dessert menu and hiding behind it. Mrs. Vanderford scanned the busy diner, and to Gertie's dismay took an empty table near ours. Then she pulled out her cellphone and used her free time to text, and I wished we had access to her phone.
The face of the phone lit up with a call, and Mrs. Vanderford answered it with a scowl. "Mary, you need to stop giving out our address because another scammer showed up today, looking for you... Well, I'm warning you not to talk to strangers. Lord knows you don't have anything left to lose, but I do, so don't blab personal information. Where are you... Again? You know how we feel about that place! It's shameful, disgusting... And what does being a free spirit really mean? Never mind, just don't get sunburned because I'm not putting aloe anywhere the sun doesn't shine... Goodbye!" She tossed her phone into her purse and sat looking crotchety before she got up and left without eating.
I met Ida Belle's amused eyes and tried not to laugh. Anyone who could shake the uptight Mrs. Vanderford's cage was okay in my book, and Mary the mother-in-law had done exactly that.
"You know where she's at, don't you?" Ida Belle whispered.
I shook my head, and Gertie lowered her menu to announce, "I do. She's at Hart's Barely There, a clothing-optional outdoor day spa for seniors. It's just outside of town, and they run specials on weekdays to boost attendance. Let's see... Wiggle and Wag Wednesday isn't so great. There are too many flat butts to make it interesting. Cushie Tushie Tuesday isn't much better unless you happen to have a nice body like me—then it's fine for the men because they get to watch. Freestyle Friday is my favorite because anything goes. Do you know if you get the most votes you win a free day pass?"
I gaped at Gertie, and Ida Belle looked at her disdainfully. "Why would anyone want to go once, let alone return? Even if it's free?"
"You'll see once you get there," Gertie assured her. She squinted one eye in thought before patting my hand. "I don't think there's any way to slip you in. Even the ones who've had surgery can't pass for your age. But Ida Belle won't have to worry about that."
"Gee, I'm crushed," I said wryly while Ida Belle sputtered in protest.
"What's your problem?" Gertie asked her. "You won't like it any better tomorrow on Ta-Ta Thursday because you don't stand a chance of getting the most votes."
"Well, thank God for that!" Ida Belle exclaimed. "I don't plan on getting any votes."
"That's the spirit!" Gertie cheered. "No pressure; just let it all hang out and have fun. That's what I plan on doing."
"I'll watch the perimeter while you two check things out inside," I offered, biting my lips at Ida Belle's sour expression.
"I'll help you," she muttered as our food arrived.
Partway through our meal, the table next to us was taken by two men, obviously not locals, given the stares they received. It was the same guys I'd seen yesterday in the SUV that Gertie had smashed and I'm sure they worked for Money in the Bank. We locked eyes and sized each other up. I saw their smug expressions and knew that they underestimated our strength. Hopefully, they dismissed us as a nuisance rather than a threat. But I didn't make that mistake.
Balding man with dark fringe: Late-forties, five feet ten, 210 pounds, more fat than muscle, overconfident, moderate scoliosis, lacks good balance. Threat level: low unless armed. Looks more intimidating than he actually is.
Sandy-haired man: Late-thirties, six feet, 195 pounds, fit, stiff neck from a past injury, favors his right shoulder. Threat level: medium.
Neither man had the killer instinct that separated truly dangerous opponents from common thugs, and I've rarely been surprised by someone in their group. On the few occasions when it happened, I was preoccupied fighting someone more deadly. But now I had my own secret weapons in the form of my two senior companions, and I wondered how the guys would fare when they followed us to the day spa.
Gertie and I finished eating and waited for Ida Belle, who complained she'd get indigestion if we rushed her. I glanced at my watch and knew she was stalling because she didn't want to join Gertie at the spa. I didn't blame her, but we've all had our share of embarrassing undercover assignments. I sneaked a look at Gertie and chuckled to myself at the eager anticipation clearly written on her face. When the waitress stopped to ask if we wanted dessert, Ida Belle was shut down by Gertie, who insisted lunch was over and we didn't have time. I paid the tab, to be added to our expenses, and we left the diner.
Our shadows didn't follow us, so Ida Belle checked her vehicle for a tracker. It wasn't hard to find and she really wanted to crush it, but I convinced her to wait. "We don't want them to see us as anything other than clueless lackeys. If you pull that tracker, they'll have their guard up," I cautioned her. She was slightly mollified when I reminded her that they had an unpleasant surprise in store if we let them follow us.
"Oh, goodie! I hope the club will bend the rules and allow them in even though they're a little young." Gertie clapped.
"And that's a good thing—why?" Ida Belle asked, her brows going straight. "They're after the same thing we are."
"Well, I meant because the spa could use the boost. Having some fresh blood will be a real pick-me-up for the ladies!" Gertie’s enthusiasm grew as Ida Belle drove us to the spa.
"Oh, God, please just kill me," Ida Belle moaned as we approached the pink privacy fenced acre of property. The parking lot was jammed, and Ida Belle circled three times before a spot opened.
Except for a huge black-and-white sign in bold letters stating the spa was restricted to persons over 18, the pink building might have been mistaken for a roadside produce market. Fruit and vegetable signs and posters covered the exterior and made me wonder who made that poor marketing choice.
Gertie hopped out and waved for Ida Belle to hurry up, but Ida Belle refused to go in unless I went too. I shrugged and agreed, knowing I'd be turned away. I hoped the lobby wasn't part of the "clothing optional" area because I had my sneakers laced and I was prepared to run all the way back to Sinful if it got too ugly.
Thankfully, the guests waiting in line and the harried woman behind the check-in desk were fully clothed. I shuddered as we joined the queue and wondered why anyone thought these places were necessary. Isn't that what homes and window shades were for? These things simply didn't belong in the public sector.
The sweaty man in front of us reinforced my conviction. He obviously didn't believe in deodorant, and I sure as hell hoped he planned on wearing his shorty shorts because the view of his butt crack and dark hairy V on his lower back already made me want to puke. It was telling that I found his spindly white legs and the tiny amount of ass cheek hanging out the bottom of his shorts to be the least of his sins.
The clerk looked ready to cry as the lobby stayed full no matter how many people she checked in. I didn't blame her. She was obviously old enough to be unfazed at the horrific display of old flesh tramping through the room, but there was no way this kind of carnage didn't cause permanent psychological damage. If I had to choose, I'd take waterboarding over her job any day.
We finally made it to the desk and I read her nametag, Billi. Her eyes lit up with joy. "You must be from the temp agency," she gasped in relief. "I'd given up hope." She moved to one side and unlocked a pointless thigh-high gate to let me behind the counter. "We're running short on towels—" She glanced anxiously at the murmuring crowd in the lobby. "Just go. The laundry room is in the back, but you'll need to go outside and pick up the used ones too. They're everywhere!"
I didn't mind doing laundry, but picking up used towels outside? No, and hell, no! Not without personal protective equipment and an eye mask. I braced myself and disconnected my automatic threat assessment instinct, knowing if I didn't, it would overload and burn out. Behind me, Billi's exclamation of sheer delight made me grimace. That couldn't be good, and I hoped her shrink was on speed dial because we needed time to find Mary and it was apparent Billi had just gone over the edge.
"I'll start the wash," Ida Belle said in my ear. "Why don't you go pick up towels?"
"What are you doing back here?" I asked.
"The Good Lord is rewarding my faithful church attendance," she said, expelling a grateful breath. "I told Billi I was also from the temp agency."
"And Gertie?"
"She claims she's being blessed too, but I doubt God's mysterious ways extend to both ends of the scale."
I poked my head around the corner to see that Gertie was no longer in the lobby. Then I made the mistake of looking down a hall toward the side exit, which led to the outdoor fenced area. I was not blessed, however, because I saw senior citizens with no clothes, running like innocent toddlers. Maybe hobbling was a better word. Either way, it wasn't pretty, and I made a silent promise to be at every church service for the rest of the year. If this was God's punishment for skipping a week or two, I didn't want to know what he had in store for me after a few more absences. When I turned around, Ida Belle was gone so I straightened my shoulders, lifted my eyes, and headed out into the yard with a cart for towels.