The Mystery of the Lakeshore Ltd - An Eleanor and Lydia Mystery

Chapter Six

The Buick, followed by the police cruiser, followed by Riley Cruise’s Mercedes SUV rolled through the city streets like the year’s most boring and uncelebrated parade.

Eleanor watched the other cars in the side mirror. “Do you recognize the young man with Mr. Cruise?” 

“No, but he looks like the guy I saw in the window of that house, as far as I can tell. I mean, he was pretty far away.” Lydia took a right turn into Eleanor’s neighborhood. 

“May I borrow your phone again?” Eleanor took the device from Lydia, dialed, and waited for the rumbly greeting.

“Good morning, Lowell. I hope I haven’t woken you.”

“I’m up. What kind of trouble you in today?”

Was she so often in trouble? She preferred to think of it as living a series of adventures that were sometimes a tad unsettling to those with a more sedate lifestyle. Best to dodge that problematic word. “I thought you might like to be a part of my latest hijinks.”

“We’re both a bit long in the tooth for hijinks and shenanigans.”

“Does that mean I should call someone else?” A peek in the mirror assured her that the gang was all still there.

“Of course you shouldn’t call someone else. What do you want me to do?”

Eleanor caught Lydia’s eye and winked. “In a few minutes, Lydia and I will be returning from breakfast.  We’ve got a tail.”

“Someone’s following you?”

“A few people are following us.”

Hard to tell if the wheezing through the phoneline was a laugh or a coughing fit. Perhaps both? 

She waited for Lowell to pull himself together. “One of our pursuers is the police babysitter we were avoiding yesterday.”

“Obviously.” He sounded on the verge of another fit. “And the others?”

“The others are the scalawags who kidnapped us last night.”

“Nothing worse than scalawags.”

The corner of Eleanor’s mouth twitched. “Are you mocking me, Lowell Lopez?”

“Mrs. Albright, I wouldn’t dare. Truly, I’d love nothing more than to be of service. What would you like me to do?”

After a pause of sufficient length to convey the risk of being kicked off Team Adventure, Eleanor explained what she needed.

“And you’re pretty sure the cops will stay out of it?”

“I can’t imagine they’d have any reason to intervene unless Mr. Cruise or his associate get violent. In that case, I’ll be glad to have them there.” From the back of her mind, the specter of a boy, dead because of her miscalculations on a long-ago case, arose. She mentally assured him and herself that this time was different. Lowell would be on a quiet street, in broad daylight, in plain sight of a police officer. He would be perfectly safe. 

She sent up a silent prayer to make it so.

“Fine, but if I get arrested or something I expect you to bail me out.”

Eleanor agreed to his terms and told Lydia they were in business. “Now I just need to write the note, but I’m a little stumped. Where should I tell him to meet us? What’s the most private place you can think of?”

Lydia drummed her thumbs against the steering wheel. Every few seconds her gaze darted to the rearview mirror. A little frustration line marred the smooth skin between her dark brows. “Lots of kids go to the cemetary across from the university gym when they want to do stuff they don’t want to be seen doing.”

Having just thought of the poor boy who’d died while helping her on a case, the mention of a cemetery turned Eleanor’s skin to gooseflesh. Nonsense and superstition. She drew a small spiral notepad and a golden pen from her purse and scrawled a note on the blue-lined paper, finishing as they pulled into the driveway and parked the car. Both of their pursuers stopped at the curb across the street.

Lydia killed the engine and took the paper from her. “Are you sure about this, Nana?”

“As sure as I ever am about anything.” In nine decades, Eleanor had aquired enough knowledge to make a good number of well-educated guesses, but certainty was rare and elusive. At any rate, no time remained for second guessing. Already, Lowell was trotting around the corner, garden trowel in hand. One strap of his denim overalls had come undone and flopped against his shoulder blade like a tattered battle flag.

"Hey! You!" 

So impressive was his ire, Eleanor had no difficulty hearing him, even from inside the car. 

"I know who you are, and I know what you did, and you're going to pay." He charged up to the Mercedes like an angry rhino and rapped the rubberized end of the trowel against the driver's window.

Lydia climbed out of the Buick and trotted around the front end to open Eleanor's door and help her to her feet. 

Riley Cruise rolled his window down. "Go home, you crazy old coot."

"Crazy? Crazy?" In an oscar-worthy performance, Lowell spun and faced the smooth-cheeked policeman who'd stepped out of his vehicle to assess the situation. "This little punk ran over my mailbox and mowed down my prize lilac bush. I got proof. Arrest him."

The officer held up his hands as if he was the one surrendering. "Let's all just calm down here, and talk about what happened."

Brandishing his trowel, Lowell stomped toward the nervous looking man-child and continued past him to the front of his car. "You got one of those dashboard cameras in this thing? I don't want to tell this fifty-seven times so make sure it's running and then you'll have my testimony on tape."

"Sir, that's not really-"

Lowell cut him off with a sharp word. "No. You swore an oath, kid, to serve and protect. Now you listen to me, because my property needs some protecting. This hoodlum wrecked up my beautiful yard, and I want justice."

While Lowell ranted, Riley edged forward until he stood at the cop's shoulder. His cohort popped out of the Mercedes and stood by the curb watching the show. If Eleanor's eyes weren't deceiving her, a hint of a smile showed at the corners of his mouth. 

All three men faced Lowell, who was standing south of the police cruiser shouting and waving his gardening tools in the air. Lydia darted north and circled wide around the back end of the Mercedes, staying low and moving quick as a cat.  She came up behind Riley's sidekick and shoved the note into his hand. 

The kid jerked in surprise, but Lydia was halfway back to Eleanor's driveway before his eyes locked on her. Two seconds later, Eleanor had her hand wrapped around the girl's elbow, and she shouted at her neighbor. "Lowell Lopez, leave these boys alone. You know good and well you backed over your own mailbox. Get in this house with us and I'll make you up some lemonade." She gestured toward the rest of the men. "I'd invite the lot of you, but I assume someone's paying everyone to sit out here and guard the old lady and her teenaged cohort. I wouldn't want anyone to be able to accuse you of shirking your duties."

Lowell twisted his face into an expression of extreme long-suffering and stumped across the road to Eleanor's driveway. "How'd I do?" he whispered once he'd reached them.

Eleanor beamed at him and patted his arm. "You were brilliant, Mr. Lopez. Hollywood's stars dim in comparison."

He chortled and coughed and followed her into the house where they all sat down to enjoy a glass of lemonade and wait for the other players in the game to make their next move.