Cupcakes, Diaries, and Rotten Inquiries: A Romantic, Comedic Annie Graceland Mystery, #6 Page 13

  I smiled sweetly at Mr. Too Handsome. “Oh, thank you, Devin,” I said. “Excuse me, I must engage in girl talk with Julia for a second. You know… what’s the next read on Sassy Girls’ Book Club, which actress looks the best on the fashion magazine covers this month, and pre-menstrual issues.”

  I pulled her gently to me, kissed her on each cheek, discretely pinched her arm and hissed. “You should have told me you were bringing Devin Dylan tonight. How much does he know and if he knows too much, I’ll freaking kill you.”

  “That’s so sweet of you, darling,” Julia said loudly and whispered back, “I’m dating him. He knows we’re helping because you suspect Bob Bubeck might have killed Mack. And if you kill me, I’ll kill you right back and dismember you thereafter.”

  “Did you tell him I could see dead people? Because if you did, you’ll be dead yourself. Right here. Right now. On the sidewalk in front of me. I’ll impale you with my car key.”

  “Guess we’ll go to hell together,” she said. “I carry a spare nail file in my purse in case of emergencies. I have enough fight in me to grab it and slice your throat.”

  “You can’t slice my throat with a nail file,” I said. “It’s not sharp enough. You’d have to saw for like twenty minutes. You don’t have the stamina.”

  “Go ahead. Try me. I’ve been working out, you know.”

  “I do believe that’s called sex,” I said.

  “Whatever. It’s super stretchy, aerobic, and it burns calories,” she said.

  Suddenly Mack came running up, breathless. “Oh my God, Annie! Bob Bubeck, that lizard is here, on the lot. He’s hanging out with Tiffany Tominski. And you’re not going to believe who they’re talking to!”

  Do you ever have one of those days, Diary, that feels like it’s never ever going to end? And if it does end, it will end badly? Yup, me too.

  Xo,

  Annie

  Alien Movie Trailer

  Chapter 28

  Like Ted Bundy

  Grady

  Dear Finley,

  Just when I thought things couldn’t get any weirder? Well, they did.

  Annie charged through the vintage car lot, skirting around classic polished beauties, their owners, the admirers, the looky-loos, and a few serious buyers. “Excuse me, excuse me,” she said as she bumped into a few folks, but thank God, didn’t touch one of those vehicles as these crazy car people would have strung her up quicker than a Salem witch.

  Julia, Devin and I followed on her heels.

  “Why is your friend so worked up?” Devin asked.

  “It’s a by-product of her former, temporary brain trauma. She hit her head during a tobogganing accident when she was sixteen-years-old.” Julia said. “Her derangement only flares when she’s stressed. Unfortunately, lately, that seems to be all the time.”

  Devin looked skeptical. “I thought you grew up in the South,” he said.

  “I did, Sugar,” Julia said. “But then we moved to Wisconsin.”

  “So, you didn’t really rescue the animals during the hurricane?” Devin asked.

  “No, but I rescued the frog I was supposed to dissect in high school sophomore year biology class. I snuck him outside in my jacket and set him free next to a pond.”

  “That was nice of you. Why did you pretend to be someone else when you met me?”

  “Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” Julia said. “Annie wanted to find out who killed Mack. She felt terrible that she turned him down for the WEPOC banquet and that he ended up dead. We were just, you know, snooping around a bit. Harmless, really.”

  Devin frowned. “You thought I was a suspect?”

  “Not really.” She half-heartedly nodded. “In our defense, many murder suspects are devastatingly handsome and incredibly charming. Like Ted Bundy.”

  “The serial killer?”

  Julia bit her lip.

  “You thought I was like Ted Bundy?” Devin blinked.

  “No! Bad example!” Julia shook her head. “More like one of those handsome guys who gets profiled on Dateline NBC or Twenty-Twenty when their wife falls off a cruise ship and disappears on their honeymoon,” she said.

  “You thought I was a honeymoon murderer?” Devin asked.

  “No!” Julia said. “Well, maybe. But that was before I got to know you, and now, definitely not. No way I’d knowingly be dating a serial killer, or a honeymoon murderer. I’m sorry!”

  “Were you ever even thinking about buying a car?” Devin asked.

  “Didn’t you see those guys push Annie’s dead clunker to the curb?” She squeezed his bicep and smiled coquettishly up at him. “Of course we’re going to buy a car. Or lease one. You’re the expert, Devin. You’re our knight in shining armor. We’re relying on you to help us determine our very best options.”

  He paused, then cracked a smile, leaned down and kissed her. “I knew the first time I met you, Julia Devereaux, that you were too good to be true. At last, we’re getting somewhere, naughty mystery lady, who’s stealing my heart.”

  She giggled.

  Suddenly, Annie stopped in her tracks. “Of course I see them, Mack. We don’t know if they’re in cahoots. I promise, I will not let him hurt your Great Aunt Mable McManus. Let me handle this!”

  She looked like a crack sniper peering through her scope, as she honed in on an older guy wearing a fat, black toupee. I could see his big, fake, capped, blindingly white teeth as he chatted with—holy crap this was crazy-pants—Tiffany, who stood next to Mack’s aunt, a very short, well-dressed, octogenarian.

  A chill ran through me. I didn’t know whether to be scared that all hell was probably going to break loose, or happy that there would be more drama to inspire fun things to write about. So, I settled for feeling a little of both. “Annie,” I said.

  She turned and peered at me. “I’m kind of busy right now.”

  “Got it,” I said. “If that woman is really Mack’s aunt, how are you going to introduce yourself? You can’t say, ‘Oh, by the way, your dead nephew told me you were his auntie.’”

  She cracked her neck. “I’ll figure out something.”

  “I’m here for you, and I’ve got your back,” I said. “Just give me the heads up if you need manly intervention.”

  “Thank you.” She took a few steps toward the creepy duo and the frail, coiffed, white haired woman standing next to the convertible.

  Julia swiveled her attention from Devin toward me, then to Annie, and frowned. “Annie, I know I’ve been pre-occupied with all the dating… I meant dating the very handsome, and resourceful, Devin Dylan. But I, too, am here for you as well.”

  Annie waved at Julia. “Great,” she said.

  “And even though you thought I was capable of being a cold-blooded killer,” Devin said, “I’ll find you a great deal on a car.”

  “Super. FYI, my credit score’s around 670.” Annie said. “While I fully appreciate all your support, I need to be slightly undercover, and get back to the matter at hand. That said, feel free to take a bullet for me should Mr. Bubeck pull a gun from his hair. That’s the biggest toupee I’ve ever seen and I fear he might be packing.”

  She crossed the rest of the distance in no time, and approached Tiffany and Bob.

  “Tiffany Tominski, what a surprise to see you here at the car show,” she said.

  “And you are?” Tiffany asked and peered quizzically at Annie.

  “Oh,” Annie said and rolled her eyes. “I think we go to the same yoga studio.”

  “Right,” Tiffany said.

  “Mr. Bob Bubeck?” Annie asked and extended her hand to him.

  “Why yes, miss,” he shook her hand. “You look familiar. Do we know each other?”

  “My name’s Annie Rose Graceland. I was a former friend of the impossibly irritating, and recently deceased, Mack ‘The Man’ McManus. I knew him, as well as your daughter, Bailey, in college. Please give her my best.”

  “Wait a minute,” Tiffany said. “I know you. Weren’t you interested in renting on
e of my apartments?”

  “I decided against it,” Annie said. “I couldn’t afford the ocean view. Bailey’s a lovely girl. How’s she doing?”

  “She’s in shock. She knew the marriage was broken, but never wished that bastard any harm. I, on the other hand—”

  “Mr. Bubeck. I’m not a police officer, but honestly, I wouldn’t say things like that in public,” Annie said. “Mack’s death is considered a homicide. Statements like that might make the authorities think you were somehow involved in his death. Were you?”

  “Of course not,” Bob said, “As much as I despised that lizard—”

  “Excuse me.” Annie swiveled, made the universal sign for zip it across her lips, and fake coughed. I could only assume Mack was standing right next to her and wouldn’t stop babbling. She turned back to Bob. “Continue, please.”

  “Mack and I were family for almost fifteen years. And he’s the only reason that I met this lovely lady.” Bob turned and took the hand of the older woman who stood next to the shiny red Cadillac.

  “Miss White,” Annie said. “I’m you’re biggest fan.”

  She peered at Annie. “Who’s Miss White?”

  Oh crap. This was her plan? Annie was totally going to blow this investigation because this frail, albeit very-put-together woman, was not Betty White. Bob, or Tiffany, or both of them were obviously Mack’s killers, and they would most likely kill Annie, too. So, I decided to take that proverbial bullet for her.

  I yanked you, Finley, from my backpack, strode up to them, flipped open your pages and knelt in front of the elderly woman. “Miss Betty White. You have been my heroine since well before The Golden Girls. Would you be so kind as to give me your autograph? Could you make it out to Grady Swenson?” I asked, fumbled through my bag and handed her a pen.

  “Oh, Mr. Swenson,” the Betty look-alike blushed and took the items from me. “You are so sweet. I wish I was Betty White, but I’m not. My name’s Mable McManus.” Her hand trembled and she dropped the pen.

  Annie bent down, picked it up and handed it to Mable. “Here you go, Miss McManus. And might I add, that I’m so sorry about Mack. You must feel awful about what happened to him.”

  “Yeah there. It was quite a shocker. Thank you,” Mable took the pen in her gnarled hands.

  But Annie froze and didn’t let go of it.

  “I have it, honey, thank you,” Mable said.

  “I know,” Annie squeaked as her face turned ghostly white, her eyes, widened, and she broke out into a sweat.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I have no idea. Call 911! Now!” Annie said. “I know who killed Mack McManus.”

  The drama is killing me, Finley!

  I hoped I meant that figuratively and not literally.

  Your friend,

  Grady

  Chapter 29

  The Perfect Ride

  Dr. Derrick

  Dearest Diary,

  I leaned back against a vintage Cadillac El Dorado several yards away and watched as Annie Graceland’s newest debacle played out.

  Julia and Grady reached for their phones and keyed in 911.

  “I think I’d better be going now,” Mable said, dropped her end of the pen, and handed the diary back to Grady.

  “I don’t think you’re going anywhere,” Annie said.

  “You can’t tell an old lady what to do,” Mable said. “Besides, all the stress of being out for too long isn’t good for my brain function. Tiffany! Could you drive me back to my apartment in Venice, please?”

  “You sweet thing.” Tiffany took her by the arm and steadied her. “You don’t live there anymore, remember? You live at Helping Hands now.”

  Mable peered up at her and blinked. “Did you still want to buy the apartment building from me?”

  “You sold it to me four years ago, honey. But yes, I agree, all of this is enough excitement for today.” She put an arm around Mable’s shoulders and steadied her as they shuffled toward the Cadillac’s passenger door.

  “Did the Betty White look-alike kill Mack?” Julia hissed.

  “Yes.” Annie gave her head a shake. “When we both held the pen I was flooded with cold, deep-seated anger, and murderous thoughts. I could easily have killed someone. That usually only happens when I drive too long in L.A.’s crappy traffic.”

  Grady inhaled and one hand flew to his chest. “You had a killer empathic clue!”

  “I remember why that apartment we were in looked so familiar!” Mack tugged on Annie’s arm as she tried to shrug him off. “Mack visited his Aunt Mable there a couple of months ago and even gave her a complimentary WEPOC refrigerator magnet.” He pointed to the red Caddie. “That’s my grandmother’s car and more importantly, my favorite car in the whole world. I’ve been trying to buy this classic beaut from her, forever. I mean, jeez, it should have been mine all along.”

  “Miss Mable McManus!” Annie said. “How long had your nephew, Mack, been dogging you to buy that car?” She pointed at the Cadillac. “How many phone calls, Hallmark cards, e-mails, refrigerator magnets, tickling sessions, floral bouquets, flattery, and endless nonsensical babbling did you have to endure?”

  “I can’t hear you, dear. Take me home, Tiffany. I don’t want to miss Matlock. I love Andy Griffith. He’s so clever and handsome.”

  “Why didn’t you go with your nephew, Mack, to the WEPOC banquet, Mable? Or maybe you did?” Annie glared at her. “Maybe you just showed up a little late, and a whole lot angry. Maybe you were so furious, you gunned that car’s engine a few times and decided to run him over.”

  “Oh, Mr. Bubeck. Why is this person who I just met being so mean to me?” Mable asked as her voice broke and she trembled.

  Bob shook his finger at Annie. “You need to back off, young lady, and leave this poor woman alone. Where are your manners?” He turned back to the Caddie. “Let me help you, Tiffany.” He sprinted a few feet ahead of them and opened the car door. They both helped Mable inside.

  Two more police sirens rang in the near distance.

  “I’ll be in touch, Mable. I’m so glad you accepted my offer to buy this gorgeous car,” Bob said. “Happy to take it off your hands.” He closed the door and smiled at her.

  “I’ll miss this car, but it’s probably for the best,” Mable said. “I’m not even sure I should be driving, anymore. I get so confused at times.”

  “That lizard’s buying my car!” Mack exclaimed. “Look at its beautiful details. The grille, and the pristine red paint job. It’s the perfect ride!”

  Annie peered at the convertible. “But it’s not the perfect ride. Do as I say, Mack, and do it now!”

  “A black and white squad car just pulled into the lot, Annie!” Grady exclaimed. “The police are here.”

  “Thank God,” Julia huddled next to Devin.

  “It’s about time,” Annie said. “Lay on the ground next to the left front wheel.”

  “No,” Julia said. “I’ll do a lot of things for you, Annie. But I won’t do that.”

  Grady and Mack threw themselves on the ground next to the wheel.

  “Not you, Grady!” Annie said.

  He popped up and took a few steps back. “Sorry!”

  “Why is Mack down here?” Mack asked as he lay next to the wheel.

  Tiffany started the car and flipped to the Golden Oldies rock radio station.

  “This is scaring me, Annie,” Mack said. “What if I get run over, again?”

  “Calm down. It’ll be okay.” Annie leaned in close and alternated between peering at his shirt and the car.

  Tiffany revved the car’s engine.

  “What are you doing?” Julia asked. “She’s going to run you over!”

  “I need to see if the tread marks on your shirt match the treads on the tire,” Annie said.

  “Does it?” Mack asked.

  “That would be a yes.” Annie jumped to standing and planted herself in front of the Caddie.

  “Move it,” Tiffany said from behind th
e wheel as her bumper made contact with Annie’s legs. “I need to get Mable home.”

  “Unfortunately, Mable’s not going home tonight,” Annie said as she backed up a few inches. “Because Mable McManus killed her nephew Mack McManus.” She turned and pointed to the uniformed policewomen headed toward them. “I’m going to let L.A.’s finest figure it out.”

  “You’re a crazy young lady,” Mable said. “I have no idea what you’re even talking about. I think you need to be on meds. Speaking of, I need to take my high blood pressure medicines at nine p.m. on the dot. Let’s go, Tiffany!”

  “Really, Miss McManus?” Annie asked. “You’ve known Mack for thirty-nine years and you have no idea what I’m talking about? The fender on your car is dented. It has dark red stains on it that look like dried blood. There are little tiny pieces of a cheap poly/cotton blend embedded in your car’s front left tire that most likely match the shirt that Mack wore the night to the WEPOC banquet. And,” Annie said. “I do believe I spotted two buttons from said cheap men’s dress shirt embedded into the tread of your car’s left front wheel. It’s funny how your memory is so fuzzy and yet you remember the exact time you need to take your meds, as well as when Matlock is on.”

  Two female police officers approached. One had her hand on her gun. The other appeared to be the good cop. “My name’s Officer Luisa Rodriguez. Why don’t you turn off the car, ma'am, and let’s talk about the situation here.”

  Tiffany grumbled and turned off the car.

  Mable fainted and collapsed in the passenger seat.

  “Call an ambulance!” Tiffany screamed.

  Officer Rodriguez leapt into the car and checked her vitals. “She’s breathing, but her pulse is a little rapid.”