A Penny Earned, page 9
“Hey, Dr. Nerd,” Cotter said into the line.
“Hay is for horses.”
“Clever, but listen at this,” he told Fred. “I got some work on the East Coast this week, and believe it or not, I will be pretty close to Prissynecticut. I was thinking of paying a visit.”
“To whom?”
“You and the pretty lady,” Cotter said. “Are you intimating you don’t want my company?”
“It’s not a subliminal message,” Fred replied.
“Good, I should be there on Saturday,” Cotter said, ending the call.
A similar conversation occurred with his father-in-law, a random call from Desirío Renteria, who invited himself to join his wife, who’d received an invite from Fred’s wife to come to their home for a party he didn’t know why they were having. His brother also called to say he was coming as well as his sister.
“Penny, what in the hell is going on?” Fred called out, rising from his desk to seek his wife.
Lana, totally excited, said, “We’re having high tea on Saturday, along with a baby, bridal, engagement shower. I called the caterer.”
“What caterer?”
“Your friend that owns the restaurant up the coast. He sounds entirely too excited to be here, and for some reason he asked about your sister,” Lana said, grinning from ear to ear. “Is your friend cute? Single?”
“Good grief,” Fred muttered, looking for his wife.
He found her in the dining room, looking in the China cabinet. Her face scowled when he approached the sparse offering in the case. The patterns were dated even for antiques.
“These will never do,” she announced with a tsk in her voice.
“They will do just fine,” he corrected. “If they are coming to celebrate you, this child, and our marriage, we could serve on paper plates and the food would taste the same. Penny, there are times in life when it simply becomes about the moment.”
Penny closed the door to the cabinet, taking in her hunky husband. He was right, in a higher sense of being, but to have women enter her home for an event, there needed to be panache. Boring was cute, but clever was sassy. She gave him a smile.
“Yeah, whatever,” he said, smiling back, knowing she would disappear and return with a twenty-member place setting of Wedgewood. “Be reasonable in your spending, my dear.”
“When have I ever been unreasonable, Husband?”
That is how the conversation started. By Saturday, his entire house was transformed with updated furniture, art on the walls, and sheets so soft his left testicle tapped him on the thigh to say thank you. New rugs covered the floors and he had a big daddy chair in front a large screen television he more than likely would never watch.
Friday came, guests began to arrive, and brown liquor flowed while men smoked cigars. At some point on Saturday, a carload of men left the house while the women had tea, and in the middle of night they returned with a drunk Fred, who sported a black eye and a tattoo covering the majority of his arm.
Sheepishly, he grinned at his wife, “This is a story we can take to the bank.”
“Speaking of banks,” Cotter said, “I finally made it to mine, and the pool will be installed soon.”
Everyone looked at the big man, uncertain where he’d come from and when he entered the Quartermaine home. Fred pointed at him, then showed off his tattoo. Seated in his big daddy chair, he gathered the family and began his tale.
Chapter 10 - Clear
“We never expected to find the gold,” Fred started, catching the eye of Desirío who made no comments.
Fred walked through Penny’s arrival at Philoneus’ home. “The man considered himself to be a broker, but all he was in truth was a low-life conman. He conned Sellers into believing they were in a relationship, but Sellers conned Barr into getting into the home.”
“What do you mean conned?” Karla van Cardin, Penny’s mother asked.
“Barr is the great grandson of Frank James, Jesse’s brother, who inherited the property left in Missouri,” Fred explained.
Cotter spoke up, “Sellers and his crew of conniving cutthroats robbed a shipment of bullion bound for Ft. Knox. Once he got the gold, Sellers disappeared for a few years. No one could find him, then suddenly, he reappeared in Missouri with Barr.”
“Barr, a quiet man living a private life in the closet, thought Sellers to be charming and went into business with the man, thinking they were creating a national landmark to honor his thieving James family,” Fred explained. “Instead, what Sellers did was build the house around the original two-bedroom home. Inside of the walls he made a secret opening.”
Penny held her cup of herbal tea. “This is what makes for great storytelling! They melted down the gold bullion. They melted down the gold, dyed it black, and made it into wallpaper designs on the old inner walls of the house.”
“Why would they do that?” Cecily asked.
“They had pressing plates of Spanish and Portuguese doubloons, which I’m certain was Philoneous’ idea,” Penny said.
Cotter, who was well aware of the trail of the gold, didn’t understand the two men who’d been hoarding it. He couldn’t wrap his mind around how they’d gotten together, let alone the relationship. In his head, he imagined two nerds having a late-night sherry as they talked about swindling people.
Fred burst his bubble, “Cotter, they were lovers.”
“Eewww,” Cotter said, “wait, did you meet Philoneus? The onery bastard chewed tobacco and swallowed the juice. His teeth were as black as the soles of my boots. Who, in the gay activities, would let that man put his mouth on their body parts?”
Jerry van Cardin shuddered. “That visual makes me want to lose my dinner.”
Cotter couldn’t help himself; he bugged out his eyes. “It gets worse. Philoneus weighed at least 280 and Sellers was a wee sprite of a man. The imagery is going to mess with my sleep patterns tonight.”
“And who are you again?” James Quartermaine asked Cotter.
Desirío also wanted to know as well, “Dr. Fred, how do you know this hulk of a man and how did you get the black eye?”
Cotter, who knew of Desirío, but pretended as if he didn’t, offered a shrug of his large shoulders. “I’m Doc Fred’s best mate,” he said, offering Fred a wide grin.
“I want to hate you, but I can’t,” Fred said, and his eyes went to Desirío. “We went back to the house to unravel the mystery and all the clues we were finding: the black diamonds, the gold coins, and a message that said the walls are closing in.”
Desirío asked again, “okay, and this is the first I am hearing of this best friend in the big man. Uno momento, how did you get the black eye?”
Fred adjusted the arm which ached something fierce from the constant jabbing of the tattoo needle. A body butter had been applied to the skin making it shine as he continued to talk. For good measure, Penny added a bit to his eye, which he still wouldn’t say what happened, instead, he pivoted back to the Philoneus’ home.
“That was the first visit to the house,” Fred said. “The second visit yielded double walls, secret rooms, and another clue of if these walls could talk.”
Lana wasn’t going to be left out of the conversation. “I also found a special powder which, when shined in the light, produced a water mark effect.”
“The main key,” Fred added, “was the ink. We found the pressing plates on the last visit, along with the kiln and another clue, up against the wall. Based on the knowledge Cotter had on Sellers, what Penny knew of Philoneus, and my massive deductive skills, we began to feel the walls for the powdery substance Lana mentioned.”
Penny stood, moving closer to her husband and said, “The last one was the toughest. We found the powder on the walls after we discovered so much black ink in the basement as well as the kiln. It wasn’t adding up. Fred shone the black light on the wall, and this massive emblem came up with all sorts of details, birds...like this on your arm. This detail is amazing on your tattoo. Wait, why do you have a tattoo and that eye is getting darker.”
Fred ignored her comment, still focusing on the pain in his arm from the jabbing needle versus the pain around his eye from the blow of correction to his words. He skirted around the topic, focusing on the detail of the tattoo on his arm.
“I have an eidetic memory and sketched it out while you were sleeping,” he said, pointing at his shoulder. “The birds acted like a clock on the wall. We pressed the bird in the noon position and the six o’clock position spit out the templates for the Damask design, but we couldn’t find any Damask wallpaper.”
He squinted a tad, feeling the swelling gaining around his eye. Cotter brought him a bag of frozen peas, making Fred wonder why the man made himself so comfortable where ever he went, especially, going into his freezer to find peas. He thanked Cotter for the assist, blinking several times at the realization of why he had the black eye in the first place.
“Which led us to the third clue of up against the wall, and we worked the wall, pressing the birds until the wall gave way, creating the opening,” he said. “Inside the walls we found the original building’s structure which were covered in black damask wallpaper. Some of it was ripped and Penny took a piece to the kitchen. And here is the rub. A Victorian home with metal counter tops was how we discovered the gold.”
“Metal countertops?” Lana asked.
“Yes, when took the paper into the light, her fingertips were covered in black ink. She went to the kitchen to wash her hands, dropping the piece of wallpaper and it clanked. It actually clanked,” Fred said.
James sat rubbing his chin. “So basically, those two butt munchers stole the gold, melted it down, and made it into wallpaper?”
“Daddy, when they needed money, they would remelt the gold, and Philoneus would cast it in the pressing plates of the Spanish or Portuguese doubloons and sell them to foreigners who thought they were getting the genuine thing. The people couldn’t complain, because it was in fact, actual gold pieces, just not the price they paid, leaving them to resell the doubloons to some unsuspecting sot to get their money back.”
“And where is the gold now?” Desirío wanted to know.
“Boston,” Fred said.
“You didn’t keep any for yourself?”
Penny lifted a photo frame from the table showing off the piece of the paper, neatly framed. She flashed it for the family who oohed and ahhh’d over the print. Her eyes were on her husband.
Fred answered the question, his eyes on his wife, “I have all the treasure I need.”
Lana cleared her throat, “Not totally. The black diamonds you gave me, I had them checked out. They are conflict diamonds Philoneus painted black. I may simply hold onto them and maybe have a piece created when I’m rich and famous.”
“In the meantime, we keep our noses clean and live a good life,” Fred said, lifting his glass of lemonade. The whiskey had given him the liquid courage to get the tattoo, but he didn’t want any more of it in his system. “Raise your glass to earning everything you are due in this life. Salud!”
THE WEEKEND PASSED with the family and friends departing, leaving the home quiet. In a few months, the sound of a crying child would echo through the place and Fred Quartermaine would dust off the Two in the Wilderness book, along with other action-adventure stories his father would read to him. He made himself a cup of coffee, not wanting to look at himself in the mirror, being neither proud, nor ashamed of his boy’s night out. Honestly, he’d never had one of those before and it was, if he didn’t want to admit it, kind of fun. It wasn’t a thing he ever wanted to do again any time soon, but being along with the dudes in his guy crew, the night turned out as it should have.
A ringing of the doorbell brought him to the living room where he found his father at the front door. James waited anxiously to speak with his son, transitioning from ringing the bell to knocking. Impatiently peering through the glass panes, he spotted the outline of his son approaching, the grin on his face even wider.
“Dad,” Fred said, opening the door. “It is 7:30 in the morning. Is Mom okay? Anything wrong?”
“No, I have amazing news,” James said giving his son a hearty pat on the back. “There is a research project recently opened at Yale you’d be perfect to head. I reached out to an old colleague, and they want you to spreadhead the venture. The salary is fat, the hours are flexible, and the benefits are so much better than what you have. Please tell me you’re interested.”
“Daddy, at this hour in the morning, the only thing I’m interested in is coffee, and possible a bit of sausage and eggs,” he said, walking to the kitchen. “You hungry?”
“I could eat,” James replied.
The coolness of his son at hearing the news that would make any academic worth his salt spontaneously drooly, only made James wonder if something was wrong with the boy. Even when he would travel to remote parts of the world, Fred’s barometer bars never rose above sea level. It took him back to when the kids in India threatened his son with a cobra and took his shoes, onlookers who relayed the story to James bragged at how calm his son remained especially after the deadly serpent spread his hood. Now he had questions.
“Son, I hate to ask this, but I must,” James said, “are you a closet sociopath?”
“What?” Fred asked laughing. “Where are we going with this?”
“You. A sociopath. You’re always so cool and calm and collected. You never seemed to get angry or react based on emotions, or do you? I mean, I’m your father and I’ve never seen it. So, are you, a sociopath?”
“I react, just not the way people think or expect,” Fred said, removing the patties from the fridge along with a frying pan he placed on the stove. He pointed to his eye. “I reacted.”
“You never said what happened to your eye,” James said. “I went to the men’s room and when I returned, you had ice on your eye and appeared dazed. All the way home, no one ever said the actions which had befallen you. Are you willing to share now had you got that shiner?”
“Well, I’m embarrassed, and kind of proud in the same breath,” he spoke softly, in case his wife walked up. “Cotter, that is the big guy, joined us at the bar for drinks. We were simply having a few sips, you know a table full of guys, and in walks a group of women.”
“Okay,” James said.
“One of the ladies, Lord please forgive me, had a very large set of attention getters, which were obviously not real,” he said. “The left one, was larger than the right, and the nipple was off center.”
“Jesus,” James commented.
“Cotter noticed, and said something under his breath,” Fred said. “Me, not realizing that I was past my alcohol tolerance, walked over, to point out the reason why I knew they weren’t natural.”
“You did not!”
“Yep, I didn’t touch her boobs, but for some idiotic reason, I thought it as a good idea to lift the woman, and jiggle her up and down like I was attempting to guess her weight, which I also did, to make my point,” Fred said. “They weren’t implants as I meant to say, but those silicone boob inserts the girlie men stuff in a bra, which is why the nipple was off-centered. Well, one of the inserts popped out of the too tight top, and she, mortified at me telling all the ladies she didn’t weight 125 pounds as well as outing her for the fake boobies, cold cocked me with her little bedazzled bag. And that’s how I earned my first black eye.”
James nearly choked. His son had never been a guy’s, type of dude. Of course, Fred played sports in high school and partook in intramural activities in college, but he was never the tap the keg kind of guy. Seeing him spending time with his friends, doing very man stuff, warmed his heart.
“So, you earned your first black eye,” James commented.
“Yeah, and I also earned me a super, fantastic wife who is carrying, dare I say, my son. I’m claiming it, Rory is a boy.”
Penny entered the kitchen in a flourish of flowing fabric. The beginnings of her journey into mother hood showing with the start of the protruding tummy. She offered morning greetings, providing James with a warm kiss on the cheek.
“James, what do we owe the honor of such an early morning visit, and can I expect more after the arrival of Rory, so I can shower, nap and all the accouterments of being a new mom?”
He grinned at her, his eyes focused on her tummy. “I came to share the good news with Fred that a position was opening at Yale, for a head of a research project that would be perfect. I know a few people, and can make a call. Basically, the job is your if you want it. I know they would love to have a Quartermaine spearheading the venture.”
Penny didn’t seem to pleased. She also had great news to share with her hunky hubby. Her face showed the dislike for James’ news. A slight chuff emitted from her throat as if to dismiss the offer her father-in-law brought into the door, replacing his offer, with the one she wanted on the table.
“My agent just called and she pitched a book idea to three of the big five publishers, and on your name alone, each of the publishers are willing to offer you a seven-figure deal for three books over the next five years,” Penny said. “Each publisher wants something different. You can choose to write an action adventure, or even the things you find when cleaning out a property, or how to prepare your property for an estate sale kind of thing. Personally, the idea of an action-adventure series, you as the dashing hero, kind of makes me all warm inside.”
“Cool your jets honey, that’s how we ended up gestating the next Quartermaine,” he said, cracking eggs in the bowl.
The aching still irritated him a bit from the large tattoo covering his arm. The eye still throbbed somewhat from the studs on the woman’s purse, which came entirely too close to his eyeball for comfort. It was one of the reasons he didn’t drink. His mind became a weapon of stupid, and Saturday night was stupid, but he did like the tattoo.
Both his father and wife waited on a response from his as the back door opened in walked Lana. She held her phone in hand, letting everyone know the call was on speaker. The voice on the other end was relatively clear. Fred knew the sound of his Boss’s voice.
