A Bad Egg: The Classic Diner Mystery Part 21

Once we were inside the house, my grandfather pulled the door closed behind us. It made me feel trapped for some reason, as though he'd just shut off our only means of escape.

"Victoria, are you okay?" Moose asked me.

"I'm fine. How should we handle our search?"

"I don't know," he said. "I've got a hunch that we don't have a lot of time. I hate the idea of us splitting up, but we can cover a lot more ground if you start at the bottom and I take the top. We can work towards the center and meet back here."

"Sure, that's fine with me, as long as we reverse things. How about if I take the upstairs and you go to the bas.e.m.e.nt? I've never been all that fond of the creepy things that live belowground, and you know it."

"It's a deal," he said. "Call me on your cellphone if you find anything."

"We're not going to just shout out loud for one another?" I asked with the hint of a nervous smile. That was our normal way to communicate, after all.

"No, I think the less noise we make here, the better."

"It's a deal," I said.

As I headed upstairs, I began to regret our decision to split up almost immediately. I constantly yelled at the television when Greg and I watched those Women in Peril movies they showed late at night. Sometimes the lead characters did the dumbest things, and I could never understand their motivation for putting their lives at risk, and yet here I was, doing basically the same thing that I blamed them for doing. Well, not entirely. I wasn't alone in the house, at least. My grandfather was just a phone call away, and no matter how old Moose might be, I knew that he'd have my back.

The second stair from the top creaked so loudly that I almost screamed as my foot hit the tread. If Mitch.e.l.l was upstairs, I'd just announced my presence, loud and clear. I decided to play it safe, just in case he really was up there somewhere.

"Mitch.e.l.l? Are you there? We heard a noise outside, so we thought we'd come check on you."

We hadn't heard anything, as a matter of fact, but I wanted some plausible deniability to the fact that my grandfather and I were actually trespa.s.sing on his property.

There was no answer, and I finally started to breathe again.

The bedrooms were rather austere, with no extraneous photographs, or anything that made it appear that someone was actually living there. I wondered how the closets would look, and the first one was normal enough, filled with men's shoes, hanging shirts and pants, and a few decent suits.

The second closet was nothing like that, though.

As I opened the door, a light switched on automatically, and I saw that instead of paint, the walls were papered with photographs of Ellen. There were hundreds of candid shots, dating back to when she must have been in high school, and in nearly every instance, it appeared that she wasn't even aware that she was being photographed.

I felt my breath choke in my throat. I could easily see this man as Ellen's stalker. Taking out my camera phone, I snapped a few shots, but as I looked at them, I realized that they couldn't begin to convey the overall creepiness of the s.p.a.ce. After I had a few photos as a record, I called Moose.

"Come upstairs right now," I said in a whisper. I wanted someone else to see what I was looking at.

"I'll be right there," he said.

As I hung up the phone, I heard that top step squeak, and I knew that there was no way that Moose had made it up the stairs that quickly.

Pulling the door closed until just a crack of light peeked through, I looked out to see if Mitch.e.l.l was coming into the bedroom, and when I saw him darken the doorway, I nearly cried out, solely as a reflex of panic. I managed to stifle it, though. I had to. I didn't want Mitch.e.l.l catching me in that closet, but then again, I couldn't have him ambushing my grandfather, either.

I had to do something, and I had to do it fast.

Chapter 17.

I looked around the closet for something that I could use as a weapon, but unfortunately, there was nothing really there. No clothes hung on the wooden rod, and no empty hangers, either.

They would have interfered with Mitch.e.l.l's photo gallery, most likely.

The only thing that was there was the closet rod, a thick round piece of wood that looked stout enough to take a man down. I tried to pull the rod from its holders, but someone had screwed the thing in place on each end. The only way I was going to free it was with a screwdriver, something I most definitely was not carrying on me at the moment.

But I did have some change in my pocket.

Working as fast as I could, I used a dime to try to unscrew the rod from its moorings.

It was a complete and total failure.

I kept trying to free it, though, and as I did, I heard the footsteps coming closer, faster and faster.

There was nothing that I could use to fight back.

Facing the door, I decided to use the last option in my a.r.s.enal as I waited for Mitch.e.l.l to open it and discover me. I might not have any weapons that I could use in my own defense, but I could still fight back. After all, I had two strong arms and legs, and I'd use them as weapons to defend myself if that was my only chance of getting out of there alive.

I knew that if Moose heard the fight, he'd race to join in, no matter how bad the odds might seem. It was entirely likely that we both would go down to a killer, but at least we wouldn't go down without fighting back.

Mitch.e.l.l was nearly to the closet door now, and I could hear my heart trying to beat right out of my chest, when I heard the doorbell downstairs.

He hesitated, and then it rang again.

Who could it be?

I waited until I heard Mitch.e.l.l walk down the stairs, and once I was certain that he was at the bottom, I raced out of the closet and through the spare bedroom.

Being careful to skip the squeaking stair, I made my way down, only to find Moose standing outside repeatedly ringing the bell.

Mitch.e.l.l was still inside, though, and it didn't appear that he was in any mood to come out. I could stand there and listen to their conversation, but I couldn't get past Mitch.e.l.l and make my way outside. I might be able to go out the back way with a little luck, but I needed a distraction in order to do it.

As I was trying to figure out the best way to slip past Mitch.e.l.l, Moose did it for me.

At least I hoped that he was just acting, and that he wasn't really having a heart attack on Mitch.e.l.l Cobb's front porch.

Chapter 18.

"Moose, are you okay?" Mitch.e.l.l Cobb asked as he shot out the door and knelt down beside my grandfather. It was eerie seeing Moose lying so silently on the porch, but I couldn't stop to worry about him yet. Tearing around the corner, I found the back door in the kitchen, and unlocking it as silently as I could, I slipped out and hurriedly closed it behind me.

Now it was my turn to act.

I tried to slow my breathing and my heartbeat as I rounded the corner, and keeping my voice as nonchalant as I could manage, I said, "Moose, I don't think he's here."

"Victoria, something's wrong with your grandfather," Mitch.e.l.l said. "I already called 911, and they are on the way. What should I do in the meantime? I took a CPR cla.s.s a few years ago, but they said that I was too rough. I don't want to break his ribs."

"I don't want that, either," I said. I brushed him aside, and got down close to Moose's mouth. "Are you okay?"

"My heart," he croaked out as he clutched his chest.

This didn't feel like acting to me. "Hang in there, Moose. The ambulance is on its way."

I was about to call my grandmother when the ambulance zoomed up the street toward us. Two husky paramedics got out, a.s.sessed Moose quickly, and I saw my grandfather whisper to one of them.

The man nodded, and as they loaded him onto the stretcher, the paramedic said, "You need to come with us."

I nodded, too, and then I told Mitch.e.l.l, "I'll come back later to talk to you."

"Stay with him," Mitch.e.l.l said. "That's where you need to be."

I got into the ambulance following Moose; before I could get settled, the driver took off down the road like a maniac. We'd pick up my grandfather's truck later once the emergency was over.

Moose had an oxygen tube in his nose, and he looked a little pale to me as he lay there strapped to the gurney.

I nearly lost it when he sat up.

"That was close," my grandfather said as he removed the tube from his nose. He patted the EMS attendant on the shoulder. "Good job, Charlie. I almost thought for a second there that I really was having a heart attack."

"Overall, you seem healthy enough to me, but your blood pressure is a little bit high. You might want to get that checked out." He tapped on the driver's seat. "You can slow down now, Ben. Moose is going to be okay."

"Are you sure?" the younger tech asked. "He still looks a little ashen to me."

"That's more from your driving than because of his physical condition," Charlie said with a laugh.

Ben slowed down, and as the ambulance neared the diner, he pulled over to the side of the road.

"I owe you both a meal on the house," Moose said. "Do you have time to collect it now?"

"As a matter of fact, we were just getting ready to go on our lunch break," Charlie said. "I a.s.sume you had your own reasons for the impromptu chauffeur service."

"It's nothing that I can really talk about, but trust me when I tell you that it was important. Now, come on in and let's get you two fed."

"Ben, you wouldn't mind parking your rig down the street a little, would you?" I asked.

He smiled at me. "I get it. You don't want an ambulance parked in front of your diner, do you?"

"Do you mind?" I asked him.

"No, I completely understand. Why don't you and your grandfather go on and get out, and we'll park somewhere else. See you in a few."

"Thanks again," Moose said.

After we got out of the ambulance, they drove up the street, and I turned to my grandfather before we went inside. "I've got to admit that was fast thinking on your part. You really saved my bacon in there. What were you going to do if you didn't know the EMTs?"

"Why, then, I would have had a false alarm by the time we got to the hospital. Victoria, I had to get you out of there, and I didn't know what else I could do."

"Hey, don't get me wrong; I'm not scolding you. I think it was brilliant, and I'll praise you more once I get over the little heart attack of my own that you just gave me. Seeing you sprawled out on that porch is something that's going to haunt me for years."

"Don't worry. I'm in no rush to leave you, or Martha," he said with a grin. "I'm sorry that I scared you, and especially since it was all in vain."

"But it wasn't," I told him. "You'll never believe what I found upstairs."

"Tell me," he said.

"He's got a photo collage of Ellen's life in there," I said.

"How many pictures are we talking about?" Moose asked.

"Hundreds," I said.

"Then I'm going to call the sheriff."

"Moose, he can't just barge in there like we did. He needs a warrant."

"Then he'll get one," Moose said. "Victoria, that was too close a call. If Mitch.e.l.l had caught you up there snooping around in his closet, I don't want to even think about what might have happened."

"We don't have to," I said as I patted his hand. "Let me call the sheriff." As the EMTs approached on foot, I added, "Set them up inside while I take care of this."

He nodded, and the three of them went into The Charming Moose, all of them as thick as thieves. It appeared that Moose had made a new friend in Ben. How did the man do it? He could go to a house fire and come back with a firefighter as his new buddy.

I got the sheriff on the line, and I was happy when he picked up on the second ring.

"How's Moose doing?" was the first thing he asked me, before I could get a single word out.

"He's fine. Why do you ask?"

"I heard about his heart attack over the radio," the sheriff said. "I'm on my way to the hospital right now, so just hold tight."

I was touched by the sheriff's reaction, but I had to stop him before he compounded the misconception that Moose was in trouble. "He's okay. It was all just a ploy."

Sheriff Croft clearly didn't like my explanation. "Explain yourself."

"We were at Mitch.e.l.l Cobb's place. Before you yell at me, it's important to know that the door was unlocked when we got there."

"That doesn't excuse you both trespa.s.sing," the sheriff said.

"Slap my wrist later, okay? The man's got an upstairs closet with more pictures of Ellen than anybody should rightfully have. He's obsessed with her."

"What do you propose I do about it?" the sheriff asked. "I can't break in without losing my job and going to jail. You aren't immune from arrest, too; you know that, don't you?"