stuff out of the dump and in its new home in your home, you’ve got to live with it.
“Roach Motel. Rat rendezvous. Dust magnet. A path. I’m not kidding. A tiny path in all that clutter. And he lived like that for decades. He had to, Maury. You can’t collect that much trash in one year. Or even two! It takes time. It’s gonna take Beanie and me some time to clear it out, but Beanie’s a hard worker.”
“Found any treasure, yet?” Maury asked.
“The only treasure I am looking for is the wooden floor boards. When I see floor, I know we’re on the downhill of cleaning out whatever room we’re in.”
“Still,” Maury said, “wouldn’t it be fantastic to find, oh, I don’t know, a hidden stash of hundred dollar bills, a rare gemstone.”
“A gold doubloon!” said Hadley. “Beanie and I have about as much chance of finding something valuable in the rubbish as you do of winning the lottery.”
“Oh, I know,” said Maury, “but it is fun to dream.”
“Eustian has quite a view of the old amusement park,” Hadley said. “I never realized just how much of the tumbled-down property can be seen from his porch.”
“I’ll bet when that park was opened,” Maury said, “it was like watching a circus side show. Can you imagine? Better than television.”
“Yeah,” Hadley said, “it would have been quite a show. But I don’t think Eustian was into being sociable.”
“Not that old goat,” said Maury. “He was into being crabby and cantankerous.”
“Still,” Hadley said, “you’re right. Beanie and I might stumble upon some secret Eustian’s had hidden in that house full of junk forever. You never know.”
“I’ll wash,” Maury said. “You dry. You know where everything goes.”
“Deal,” said Hadley. “And thanks for the elbow grease.”
“It’s the least I can do,” said Maury. “Your invitation got Bill to sit down for 30 minutes. He never refuses your cooking, Hadley.”
“Then,” Hadley said, “until this case is solved, I’ll just have to start inviting you two over more often. Bill can get a good meal with a little rest thrown in at no extra charge.”
Chapter Thirteen
V irgie wanted to cry .
Cleve was acting strange ever since Claire and Kyle had that big blow out. She remembered that awful day.
Claire swore Kyle was stealing her medicine again. Kyle told his mother off. It was a horrible, horrible scene. Cleve had stuck his nose in, tried to come between the two, and Kyle had socked him one in the kisser.
Cleve hit the ground like a rock.
He looked up at his grandson, nose pouring blood, and swore that if Kyle ever laid a hand on him again, he’d kill him.
“Just try old man!” Kyle screamed. “I’ll put you under the ground so fast it will make your head swim!”
“I’m gonna kill you, you snot-nose brat! Nobody talks to me that way! Nobody!”
Virgie had helped Cleve up and dusted him off. Cleve hadn’t said a word for three days. He wore a dark scowl, and his black eyes had a crazy look in them.
“The likker’s muddlin’ his brains,” Virgie said.
She’d seen it before. Too many years of hard drinking turned a man’s mind to mush. That had to be what was wrong with Cleve. She wished Cleve and Kyle could get along. Was that so much to ask?
They had always got along like oil and water. Virgie thought the two were so much alike they couldn’t stand each other. And now, their hatred had come to blows.
Kyle’s two kids, Luke and Emily, were running around screaming like wild animals. Nothing unusual about that. Virgie had never seen two more irritable little sprats in all her life. Both tykes had the attention span of a dust mite. They tore up every toy they ever had within 10 minutes of getting it out of the box, and when one wasn’t screaming or hitting the other, both were crying for unknown reasons.
Virgie blamed the drugs.
She’d heard on television about how they messed up kids’ behavior. Kyle was always high. Dang drugs!
“Roach Motel. Rat rendezvous. Dust magnet. A path. I’m not kidding. A tiny path in all that clutter. And he lived like that for decades. He had to, Maury. You can’t collect that much trash in one year. Or even two! It takes time. It’s gonna take Beanie and me some time to clear it out, but Beanie’s a hard worker.”
“Found any treasure, yet?” Maury asked.
“The only treasure I am looking for is the wooden floor boards. When I see floor, I know we’re on the downhill of cleaning out whatever room we’re in.”
“Still,” Maury said, “wouldn’t it be fantastic to find, oh, I don’t know, a hidden stash of hundred dollar bills, a rare gemstone.”
“A gold doubloon!” said Hadley. “Beanie and I have about as much chance of finding something valuable in the rubbish as you do of winning the lottery.”
“Oh, I know,” said Maury, “but it is fun to dream.”
“Eustian has quite a view of the old amusement park,” Hadley said. “I never realized just how much of the tumbled-down property can be seen from his porch.”
“I’ll bet when that park was opened,” Maury said, “it was like watching a circus side show. Can you imagine? Better than television.”
“Yeah,” Hadley said, “it would have been quite a show. But I don’t think Eustian was into being sociable.”
“Not that old goat,” said Maury. “He was into being crabby and cantankerous.”
“Still,” Hadley said, “you’re right. Beanie and I might stumble upon some secret Eustian’s had hidden in that house full of junk forever. You never know.”
“I’ll wash,” Maury said. “You dry. You know where everything goes.”
“Deal,” said Hadley. “And thanks for the elbow grease.”
“It’s the least I can do,” said Maury. “Your invitation got Bill to sit down for 30 minutes. He never refuses your cooking, Hadley.”
“Then,” Hadley said, “until this case is solved, I’ll just have to start inviting you two over more often. Bill can get a good meal with a little rest thrown in at no extra charge.”
Chapter Thirteen
V irgie wanted to cry .
Cleve was acting strange ever since Claire and Kyle had that big blow out. She remembered that awful day.
Claire swore Kyle was stealing her medicine again. Kyle told his mother off. It was a horrible, horrible scene. Cleve had stuck his nose in, tried to come between the two, and Kyle had socked him one in the kisser.
Cleve hit the ground like a rock.
He looked up at his grandson, nose pouring blood, and swore that if Kyle ever laid a hand on him again, he’d kill him.
“Just try old man!” Kyle screamed. “I’ll put you under the ground so fast it will make your head swim!”
“I’m gonna kill you, you snot-nose brat! Nobody talks to me that way! Nobody!”
Virgie had helped Cleve up and dusted him off. Cleve hadn’t said a word for three days. He wore a dark scowl, and his black eyes had a crazy look in them.
“The likker’s muddlin’ his brains,” Virgie said.
She’d seen it before. Too many years of hard drinking turned a man’s mind to mush. That had to be what was wrong with Cleve. She wished Cleve and Kyle could get along. Was that so much to ask?
They had always got along like oil and water. Virgie thought the two were so much alike they couldn’t stand each other. And now, their hatred had come to blows.
Kyle’s two kids, Luke and Emily, were running around screaming like wild animals. Nothing unusual about that. Virgie had never seen two more irritable little sprats in all her life. Both tykes had the attention span of a dust mite. They tore up every toy they ever had within 10 minutes of getting it out of the box, and when one wasn’t screaming or hitting the other, both were crying for unknown reasons.
Virgie blamed the drugs.
She’d heard on television about how they messed up kids’ behavior. Kyle was always high. Dang drugs!
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