Classmate Murders by Bob Moats (best authors to read TXT) 📖

the burly, and now surly, cop.

We went through a heavy metal door and into the studio. It was small like on the Bozo set, and the crew was busy adjusting the cameras and lights. The back stage was fairly dark and the stage hands were milling about on the other end, that I could see of them. They all said their "Hi's" and "Good mornings" to Penny and she beamed back to them. Some guy, I presumed was the floor manager, came up to her and gave her a couple of pages of paper. She studied them for a bit and then gave them back and told him she was ready.

"Sit here where I can admire you from the stage." She guided me to a tall stool and let me get comfortable. The cop sat a bit over from me, on another metal folding chair like the one in the hall. I could almost hear him grumbling about that.

For the next hour I watched the show being created, the guest today was a doctor talking about men's sexual dysfunctions. Oh, great. Penny peeked over to me every time he mentioned sex. I was feeling warm and not from the hot lights overhead. Penny opened the questioning to the audience, you know, "Penny for Your Thoughts" kind of thing. The doctor held up well through the inane questions that people were asking. Penny told the doctor that she had a question. 'When is a man too old for sex?' I squirmed as she looked to me. The doctor laughed and said that man is capable of sexual relations no matter what age, even after sixty, as long as he was healthy and could survive the ordeal. The audience chuckled and Penny laughed as she drew her attention back to the Doctor and away from me. There were a few more questions then the show wound down, as they rolled the end credits. After saying her good-byes to the Doctor, Penny bounced over to me and grabbing my hand again, she led me back to her dressing room. She told the burly surly cop to shoot anyone who even tried to knock on the door. She gave him a big wet one on his cheek, I've never seen a cop go so red. She pulled me in and locked the door. Oh,oh.

She swung me around and pinned my back to the wall and searched for my tonsils with her tongue. Twelve years of being a monk had just shattered into sweet oblivion as we moved from wall to chair to couch and then floor. My heart was pounding out a conga beat, mostly from my lack of exercise, but partly from the moment. Her body was amazingly firm and smooth, not at all like a woman almost sixty. About thirty minutes later we took a breather.


Penny slipped back into her robe as I gathered my wits and my clothes.

"Were you trying to kill me?" I smiled.

"No, sweet cakes, just seeing what I may have missed back when we were more flexible in our youth."

"Disappointed?"

"Hell, no. I may make you my fourth husband." She looked serious, then laughed.

"How about a long engagement first?" I pleaded.

"Sounds good, the anticipation is more fun that way." She went back to the bathroom and came out a few minutes later in her street clothes, silky blouse, short skirt and a big smile.

"Are you still a misogynist now?"

"Well, my opinion about women has been elevated to a new level." I watched her fussing at her dressing table, straightening out her make-up. Beyond the glamour she was a very handsome woman, I could get used to her. "So, are we a couple now?" I smiled.

"Sure Sweety, but I'll need a pre-nup."

"Well, don't expect much of my fortune. There is none," I joked, her laugh was infectious.

"Well, we just got through the honeymoon night. It's uphill from here." She was tying her hair up on her head, just the way I liked women to have their hair up.

"You know, it's been twelve years since I last tasted a woman," I confessed.

"Damn, you sure could have fooled me. You must have a great memory." She looked at me in wonder.

"I do now, and that will go with me to the grave." I hoped it wouldn't be too soon.

She picked up an envelope from her dressing table and opened it. She read the paper from the envelope and went pale. A small choke came from her throat and looked at me with wide eyes. I grabbed the paper and read.

"Star light, star bright. Your star is going out tonight. You're the next classmate to die!"

*


Chapter Seven

The police were insistent about not wanting anyone around Sue Carter, but the old woman was just as adamant about doing her work. She said she had to take care of customers to make some money, unless the police were going to fund her. They weren't too happy about it, but Trapper warned his men to closely check each person who came in, just to calm Sue down. Trapper went off looking for Linda Grolich and warned his two officers to stay at their post around the house to make sure no one got in without them knowing. One of the sheriff's men was inside with Sue, so Trapper figured she would be safe. Sue's business was not booming so her and the young deputy sat a good while before a car drove up the drive. One of the outside officers stepped up to the vehicle and saw that a very elderly lady was driving. His muscles relaxed a bit as he watched her struggle to get out of the car as he opened the door for her. She thanked him and struggled up the couple of rickety steps of the porch, then the officer rushed around her to open the door as she slowly waddled in. The well wrinkled, gray haired woman stepped into the salon and saw Sue and the younger officer sitting.

"My, all the police, is it all right to get a little trim on my hair?"

"Sure ma'am. Come on and sit down. Just ignore the police, they're here to sell tickets for some policeman thing, but you don't have to buy anything to have your hair done," Sue said with a smile. The woman set her oversized hand bag on a chair and toddled to the seat. Sue helped the woman onto the styling chair and helped straighten her up. The woman thanked Sue and inquired if Sue had a bit of coffee to offer. Sue paused and looked at the young deputy and asked, "Do you know how to make coffee, officer?"

The young cop replied he did and Sue instructed him where to find the coffee maker in the kitchen. He dutifully headed into the other room and Sue picked up the hair cloth to cover the woman.

"Just a little off the ends, dear," smiled the woman as Sue swing the cloth around the woman and fastened it at the neck with a clip.

Sue picked up a comb from the back bar and walked around to the front of the woman, leaning in to get a look at the woman's hair from the front. Sue looked a little puzzled and asked, "Ma'am, are you wearing a wig?"

The woman smiled and said, "Why yes dear, It's my disguise." and brought her hand up and across Sue's throat with the open straight razor she took from her pocket. It was a very good slash, little blood spurted but was caught by the hair cloth, as the woman pushed Sue back and down. The woman pulled the hair cloth off and bundled it up with the razor and gracefully stuffed it into her large purse. She pulled a small handgun from an outer pocket of the purse and quietly sprinted to the other room, gun held out. She came to the tiny kitchen and found the officer standing in front of the coffee maker humming to himself. The woman didn't want to fire the weapon so picked up a small skillet from the stove and whacked the deputy across the back of the head. He went down with little noise as the old woman quickly went to the back door. She removed a small package from her pocket and took out ten wrapped firecrackers from it and then lit the long end of one with a lighter. She threw the crackers out the back door and ran toward the front gathering up her bag. She waited for the first cracker to pop, setting off the rest sounding like an machine gun. She watched through the window as the two outside cops drew weapons and sprinted around back. She broke through the front door, was in her car and heading out the drive before the police understood the situation. They busted through the back door, guns at front and found the deputy, down but still alive. They rushed carefully into the salon and found Sue Carter bleeding out on the floor. They called for an ambulance and back up. Then called Trapper, something they regretted having to do.

After the coroner took the now deceased body of Sue Carter away, Trapper stood in the salon looking frustrated and pissed. The Sheriff's forensic lab people and Trapper's CSU people were bumping into each other, looking for any trace of the woman that they could find. Finally, the Sheriff called his men out and told them to let it be and go back to the station leaving Trapper's men to feign for themselves.

"I'm not believing this! Three big strong cops against one little old lady! Do you know how this looks?" roared Trapper.

Everyone just stood silently taking in the abuse. That went on for another five minutes before the Sheriff quietly called Trapper outside.

"I don't blame you one bit, losing four women like this, but you got two more out there that you'll really need to be on your toes about. I'm done here, it's all yours. I'm going to take my bruised deputy, who also happens to be my nephew, not that I'm overly proud of it, and head back to fighting crime in the sticks and leave murder to you big city cops," He grinned wide, tipped his smokey the bear hat as he headed to his car, signaling his nephew to follow.

Trapper just let all the air go out of his body and stood there for a while taking in the sunshine. Becker came out and said the CSU couldn't find anything that would point to the woman. She had taken everything she came in contact with. Trapper looked at him and rasped, "Not a one of the officers who were here could really ID her, old, gray hair, walked slow, etc. And the car she drove was reported stolen from a used car lot in Mt. Clemens early this morning. If we find it, I'll bet my pension that it'll be wiped clean."

He sat on the hood of the nearest patrol car and just stared at the house.

"Murder doesn't bother me, I've seen it way to much to be bothered. What bites my ass is this guy, person, old lady, whatever, is doing this while we're watching the vic. That makes us look incompetent. I'm not retiring in two years with this blot on my record. Becker you're in charge here, I'm going to see if I can still find Linda Grolich where ever