Mystery Story: Scene Two

Mystery Chapter One: Scene Two 

If you missed Scene One, scroll down as it is below scene two. I hope you enjoy this.  It is not "racy" as the first, but it deepens the mystery. 

    At the first ring of his cell phone, Wally Blaugh dropped the coffee scoop he had just filled with the coffee beans for the pot. The beans spilled across the floor. Muttering under his breath, he picked up the cell phone on the kitchen counter and snapped, "Hello."

    "Having a bad day, Wally? You're going to have many bad days if you don't pay me what you owe."

    "You know I'm good for the money, Seth. I've always paid you before and with interest. I just need more time."

    "Do I know you are good for the money?  The other times were for a few thousand.  Now, we're talking thirty thousand.  You shouldn't bet money you can't cover."

    "Just give me more time.  I'll get it and with interest.  I promise."

    "Okay.  But don't take too long, or I'm going to your boss."

    "No. No.  Don't do that. She'll fire me. I'll pay you soon.  Promise."

    "Okay, Wally, but like I said, don't take too long.  Now, do have a good day."

    Wally heard a sarcastic laugh before a click.

    Wally's hands shook as he put down the phone and swept up the coffee. He refilled the scoop and put the beans into the coffee maker, and added water.

    A bedroom door opened, and a man with disheveled blond-haired wearing silk pajamas entered the small dining room.  "Wally, where's my coffee?"

    " Be ready soon.  Do you want toast for breakfast or an English muffin?"

    "Toast with the crust cut off."

    "I know that, Spencer.  No crusts, ever."

    "Wally, you're in a bad mood today. You're not paid to be in a bad mood.  Lighten up."

    I'll lighten up once you have taken your morning pills."

    Spencer sat at the table and glared at a small paper cup with two pills in it.  "I don't want to take my meds today.  I'm fine without them."

    "You know that isn't true.  If you don't swallow them, we will not leave the apartment all day."

    "I want to go out.  I've got places to go."  Spencer stamped a foot under the table, causing the items to jump slightly.

    "Then take your meds.  The orange juice is right in front of you, and I'm going to stand here and make sure you swallow them."
    "I don't like you.  You're too bossy.  You're fired."

    Wally sighed and crossed his arms. "You know you can't fire me.  Only your sister Judith can."

    "I can take care of myself."

     "You're thirty-eight years old.  Grow up and take your pills!"

    Spencer grabbed the paper cup, tossed his head back and emptied the cup into his mouth. He picked up the large glass of orange juice and gulped it down.  "See," he opened his mouth and showed his tongue and teeth to Wally.  "Are you happy now?"

    "Yes, I am.  Thank you."

   " I did what you want, you, so you need to do what I want.  I want to go to a winery.  Did you know we have some in Minnesota? We do. I saw it on the news yesterday.  I want to see one."

    "Why? You can't drink wine with your meds."
    "Geeze, I know that."  Spencer sneered at his companion.  I want to invest in one.  They all make lots of money, and this is a special winery.  It makes Peanut Putter Whiskey."

    "Yuck.  That can't be right."

    "Yes, it is.  It has a smooth peanutty flavor, but it is whiskey.  As soon as it catches on, I'll be rich. Then I won't need to live on the trust fund my parents made for me.  I'd be wealthy and could do what I want."

    Letting out a slow breath as he thought, Here we go again.  Another get-rich scheme.  "Your money is all in the trust, and you don't have enough allowance each month to invest."

     "My sister, Judith, is rich.  She will give me the money I need."  Spencer's smirk 'so there' showed plainly on his face.

    "She didn't help you when you wanted to invest in the walleye fish farm, or for the process to make colored snow for the winter ski resort, or for a car factory where the engines were to be made of glass."
    "I want my own money!" Spencer pounded the table, and the empty orange juice glass bounced.

    "You have millions in the thrust that she administers.  She gives you an allowance each month, pays all the utilities, pays for the lease on this terrific penthouse, and pays my salary as your psychiatric nurse.

    "She pays you to be my prison guard. You're a lackey for my selfish sister.  I wish she was dead, and then I would inherit her money."

    "Sorry, pal.  Her husband would."

    "They should both die, in a car accident or something.  I'd be the only one left to get all the money, hers and his."
    "That's a pipe dream, expecting them both to die together."

    Spencer got up from the table and shuffled across the carpet in his slippers. "I'm going to get dressed.  I want to go to the Peanut Butter Whiskey distillery today.  I want to buy a bottle of it to give to Judith. She'll see it would be a wise investment." Before entering his room, he looked back at Wally as he said, "If they did die, I'd give you a third if you helped me get the money.  That easily would be five or six million, likely more.  All just for you." Spencer closed his bedroom door behind him.

    Clearing the table, Wally walked over to the kitchen sink.  Shaking his head, he thought, I'm never going to understand him.  What's going on in his head now?  He turned the hot water tap on and squirted dish soap into the sink. He watched the bubbles form.  Five or six million! That would end my worries.

*Dear readers, I did not make up the peanut butter whiskey flavor.  The Skrewball Whiskey does make a peanut butter whiskey.  A sentence from their online ad says, "But we have to warn you- a night with Skewball is bound to get a little nutty."  There are stores in the San Diego area that sell it.  Now, you must admit that by reading this blog, you learn something. Not all blogs do that.

    

Mystery Story: Scene One

 This is the first scene in the untitled mystery. After the story is completed, readers may submit titles.  The person with the winning title will receive a prize.  

Mystery: Scene One of Chapter One

      Snuggling against his bare arm, she traced his ear and facial features with her finger.  When she began tracing his eyelid, he laughed.

     "Stop that!  It tickles."  He looked at her and smiled.

     "I like to tickle you and lay with you and feel your body on mine.  And you are so comfortable to lie against."

     "Comfortable? That sounds awful like I'm an old sofa."  He moved his hand across her bare breasts.

     "It's for sure you are not.  And all those groupies who follow you around and ooh and ahh at you with silky eyes sure don't think so."

     He blew strands of hair off her face as his fingers moved around her body.  "They don't know what I feel like in bed, comfortable or not, as I don't have sex with anyone but you, Judith.  If you got a divorce and marry me, I'd be underfoot all the time, and you would know for sure I don't go to bed with any 'groupies.'"

      "We're back to that old discussion again."  She pulled away from him, sat up, and began dressing.

     "I'm tired of our sneaking around.  When we are in public, I can't do anything but smile and talk with you casually.  I want everyone to know I love you."

     "Phil, don't you think I'm tired of wearing this disguise and pretending I'm your sister?" Judith picked up a blond wig from the nightstand and waved it.  "I've told you I can't get a divorce.  There has never been one in my family, and I'll not be the first.  And if I do decide to run for senator, it looks better if I'm happily married.  Plus, you know Franklin and I each signed an agreement that the one who asks for a divorce must give half of all their present assets to the other.  I'm not about to give up over ten million dollars to a man I don't love and who has millions of his own.  No, thank you!"

     She picked up her high heel shoe and threw it against the wall.  It left a slight gouge on the plasterboard. She moved to the edge of the bed and stared at the mark for a moment before punking her wig on crookedly.

     Phil drew the sheet up to his chest.  "I know.  I know."  His tone reflected the dejection and exasperation.  "Oh, wouldn't it be nice if he were to drop dead? Then you could save your reputation and money, and we could come out from hiding.  If he died soon, we could wait a respectful time, get married, and you could put your name into the party for the senate in the next election for Minnesota in four years.  That would be great!"

     She felt his eyes staring into her back.  She turned and squinted at him.  "You're not suggesting...you're not seriously thinking...?"  She stood and inched away from the bed.  "Tell me you're not serious."

     "What if I were?"

     Judith's eyes widened as she stared at his face.  "If I thought for a moment you were serious...I...I'd leave you.  I couldn't have anything to do with you.  And if he did die, I'd never marry you. Never if I even thought for a moment, you had something to do with his death.  I couldn't marry such a person.  I couldn't.  Never!"

     Phil got up and put on his robe.  "Darling, I was just joking, you know, just talking silly.  I wouldn't do anything to harm anyone.  You know that."  He put his arms around her as he kissed her neck and shoulders.

     Air escaped from her lungs in a long sigh.  "I know, of course.  You couldn't be serious about something like that.  I couldn't love someone who could do that.  We love each other, and we can go on this way, indefinitely.  Love like ours is deep and strong. Right?"

     "We can go on forever and ever," Phil said.   

       Phil kissed her so hard and deep she felt she was swallowed in his arms and mouth.

(Stay tuned for the continuing saga in the mystery.  What happens to Judith and Phil?  Do they get married?     If they do, how does it happen?  If they don't, why not?  What happens next week?____________________________________________________________________________