Rasta on his lap. Rasta had had a bad time of it the night before. The chuffing sound of the tigers had made him shiver and shake and whine. Long after the silence had fallen, Joe and Chuy had let the little dog in the bed between them, a behavior usually only indulged during thunderstorms.
Manfred paused to tentatively pat Olivia on the shoulder, something he’d never done before. (If he’d known why Lewis and Bertha had turned up at his door last night, he might not have.)
“I just stopped by the hotel to check on Mamie and Tommy and Suzie,” Manfred said to the table in general. “Also, I wanted to see if Shorty had heard from his grandson. I found them all packed up and ready to go.”
“What?” Olivia looked at him sharply, trying to believe this was some weird joke. “What did Lenore Whitefield say?”
“She said that places had opened up for all of them in Safe Harbor, that really fancy assisted-living place in Davy. They’ll each have their own rooms with a little kitchen space, a television, a queen bed, and a La-Z-Boy. I’m quoting.”
Everyone digested that for a minute.
“How’d they feel about it?” Olivia was almost angry.
“They said there was sure to be more going on in Davy. The residents there have dance lessons and bowling nights and yoga classes.”
“So they were willing to go?” Olivia could hardly believe it.
“Yes, even after we took them to lunch at Cracker Barrel, they were willing to go,” Manfred said, laughing. “But they want us to come and visit, and they said you’d promised to take them to the library, Olivia.”
“I’m going to do exactly that,” she said.
“And they weren’t suspicious about it all being paid for?” Chuy said.
“I guess if you’ve been living in a roach motel in Las Vegas, you’re ready to accept whatever good comes your way,” Manfred said.
“What about the regular guests? The contract workers at Magic Portal?” Bobo asked. One of them had come into Midnight Pawn the previous Saturday and tried to bargain with Bobo over an old tray. He’d been embarrassingly persistent.
“They’re still in residence, as Lenore put it,” Manfred said. “I asked her if more old people would be coming in, and she said that was out of her authority, or something like that. But the hotel’s going to stay open.”
“Very strange,” Chuy said, scratching Rasta’s head. “Two staff, plus the cook, for two guests.”
Bobo said, “What does this mean for the future, I wonder?”
Of course, none of them knew the answer to that. It was unsettling, to say the least.
The electronic chime on the door made them all turn to see who’d come in.
“Hey, everyone,” said Arthur Smith.
They were relaxed enough with the sheriff to say “Hey” back and to make room for him at their table. He eyed Olivia’s roast beef sandwich with interest.
“I came to talk to you, Manfred, and I figured you’d be over here when I couldn’t catch you at your place.” Madonna brought Arthur a glass of water and some silverware, and he asked if he could have an open-face like Olivia. Madonna nodded impassively and left.
“What about? I’m not in more trouble, I hope?” Though Manfred tried to sound confident, he knew they could all hear the uncertainty in his voice.
“The Bonnet Park cops called me. They had a few things to say about Lewis Goldthorpe.”
“Oh?” Manfred hoped Arthur didn’t notice that everyone at the table had grown silent.
“Yeah. He came in to tell them today that he’d seen three tigers here.”
“Tigers. Three.” Manfred didn’t have to struggle to sound amazed. He really was; how did Lewis believe this news would go over at any police department in America? “Ah, and why was he here, did he say that? Because I sure can’t imagine it.”
He hoped he wasn’t imagining that Arthur’s eyes were sharp and taking in his every twitch.
“He said they ate his housekeeper. Some woman named Bertha?”
“Bertha was here, too?” Manfred couldn’t manage a laugh, but he did produce a passable sneer. “Aside from three tigers and Bertha, did he mention anyone else?”
Arthur smiled, just a little. “Nope. But since the jewelry was found and you couldn’t have killed Rachel Goldthorpe, you’re no longer part of the investigation.”
“Cleared!” Manfred thumped the table. “That’s what I’ve been waiting for all along. So did they give you a hint about who did kill her?”
“Don’t know. Lewis says it was this Bertha and that she was his dad’s mistress. I don’t know if that’s so