Pamela Ebel

Liars and Legends

Pamela Ebel

“Carson, please don’t use that fish finder. You know this trip prohibits them.”

“Stop whining, Peg. No one can see us. Just sit and be quiet”

“This is supposed to be our second Honeymoon. You said we’d see the cities and villages in Scotland. All we’ve done is go from one fishing site to another and sleep in tents.”

“I don’t know what you’re bitching about. We came on a cruise ship that cost me an arm and leg, that didn’t stop in one fishing port. Now it’s my turn. Look at the mountains or something.”

He steered the motorboat further from the yacht that served as home base. She saw Captain Duncan waving them to return. Carson ignored him.

On the far side of the lake, he turned off the motor and the boat drifted quietly with the current. Dropping the fish finder cable in the water Carson turned it on. Peg looked at the screen that showed the underwater world beneath them. Fish of all sizes swam lazily or streaked by in pursuit of dinner.

Looking for something to talk about, her eyes settled on the fishing gear, that along with the travel expenses, had cost Peg her bonus funds. She picked up the pole.

“Why don’t you try this out? It would be nice to share some salmon you caught when we all meet for dinner tonight. Everyone else shares their catch. We’ve never contributed anything and it’s embarrassing.”

Carson turned and grabbed the pole causing Peg to lose her balance and fall backward. He then turned back to the sonar screen.

“I’m sick of you whining and complaining. We had one Honeymoon. That should’ve been enough. It’s more than most people get.”

“We went fishing in the Gulf and slept on mud lumps at the mouth of the Mississippi River.”

“Yeah. But we stayed at that motel too,”

“Only because there was a hurricane coming. We had no electricity for two nights in August.”

“See, you always look on the bad side of everything. Because the storm knocked out the power, Ralph let us stay on his yacht. It’s a beauty. When I get back home, I’m ordering one.”

“How do you plan to pay for a yacht? My salary barely covers our living expenses. I know you hope to settle that big wrongful death case but…”

“Well, now that you mention it.”

He dug into a canvas bag and pulled out a paper, handing it to Peg.

“You settled the case? How wonderful. This bank statement says you deposited $600,000. Wait! This isn’t our bank and this isn’t our account. It only has your name on it. You opened this account last week and didn’t tell me! Why?”

“You were working that day. I wanted to order the Lincoln Town Car. It will be waiting when I get back.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I used all our savings for this trip. Everything we have we pool together. Why did you lie to me?”

“Why? Because this is my money, bitch! Why? Because I’ve lied our entire marriage to get what I wanted from you. Why? Because the lies got you to pay for law school leaving me money to get what I needed. Why? Because lying is what I do best.”

He yanked the bank statement from her, putting it back in the bag.

“You were convenient and not too bad to look at and not bad in bed. Just so pitiful wanting ‘to be loved’. But love costs money and I’ve waited ten years. Now I’m going to live like I want, spend what I want on what I want and love who I want. You, ‘pitiful Peg’, are not on any of those lists.”

Peg stared into the face of a man she didn’t recognize as he picked up an oar and leaned toward her.

“It will be an unfortunate accident. You grabbed the pole when we got a bite and when I was reaching for the net you slipped and fell over. Your head wound will be caused by hitting the railing as you fell. That’s what I’ll testify to and I’m a good liar.”

The sonar beeped causing, both of them to stare at the screen. A large nose and huge eye stared out at them. Then the boat rose out of the water. As it crashed back down, Carson fell finding himself face to face with Nessie.

The Loch Ness Monster’s head rose atop her five-foot long neck covered in dark green scales. She stared down at Peg, then her snake-like mouth opened, two large fangs sprung forward and in one bite she drug Carson and the fish finder overboard and disappeared. A few moments later Nessie reappeared, seemed to smile at Peg, then, like a scaly submarine sank silently into the dark water.

The sound of a motor caught her attention, and the yacht pulled alongside.

“Mrs. Olson are you alright? We saw a giant splash. Where’s your husband?”

Peg pulled the canvas bag to her chest.

“I don’t know, Captain. A big wave lifted the boat up. When it crashed down Carson was gone. We need to look for him. I’ll stay in the boat. Maybe he made it to shore and will see me.”

The Captain shook his head and helped Peg aboard the yacht.

“This is the deepest part of the loch. It’s getting dark. We need to head back to the dock. I’ll call now and get a search party out. You’ve had a shock. Some dry clothes and a bit of ‘the hair of the dog’ will help.”

Peg waved her hands and let the tears come, hoping to look appropriately distressed.

“Could I have some of the champagne we brought? It was for our second Honeymoon celebration.”

“Anything you wish. Anything else you need?”

Peg stood and looked around the luxurious fifty-foot yacht and held the canvas bag tighter.

“Just one thing. What type of boat is this and how much does one cost?”

The Dead Key!

Pamela Ebel

“Morning, my friend. How you doing this cold day?”

The desk manager looked up as the Head Bell Man pushed a huge steamer trunk through the front doors of the hotel toward the front desk check-in station.

“Doing okay right now. I just started my shift, and I don’t see many memos or notes on things that went wrong overnight. Same for you?”

The Head Bell Man shook his head and shrugged.

“Same for me except for this big trunk that UPS dropped off last night around midnight. I’ve only seen one of these in old 1930’s movies. The paperwork says it goes to a Paul Richter. A note signed by Richter says to leave it in his room if he isn’t here when it comes. Which room is he in?”

“Let me check. The computer is slow this morning. Oh, here it is. Richter is in Suite 405. Says he checked in at 9:00 last night.”

“Okay. But I just realized I must have left my master key in my other uniform jacket. I don’t have time to go back to the locker room. Got one I can borrow in case the guy’s not there?”

“Let me reset one of these dead keys for you.”

He pulled a plastic card out of a box on the counter, entered it into the computer port and hit a series of commands.

“There you go. This should open all the doors for you.”

The Bell Man took the card, tipped his hat, and pushed the huge streamer trunk into an elevator and disappeared.

In front of Room 405 he knocked several times and got no answer. Using the master, he opened the suite door and called out to announce himself. Still no answer.

Following instructions from the note, he pushed the trunk into the sitting area, off the luggage cart and to the center of the room just as his beeper indicated he was needed in the lobby.

“Be right there.”

He closed the suite door and jiggled the handle to ensure it was locked.

A minute later the trunk lid snapped and creaked open. Slowly, like Venus Rising, a red-haired woman stood up and climbed out of the trunk.

Stretching, she pulled a tote bag out, went to a mirror, checked her hair and makeup, smoothed her black velvet jump suit. She pulled black leather boots from the tote and put them on.

She checked her watch, walked to the bar, removed a small bottle of champagne from the fridge, poured it into a flute, drank deeply, then smiled.

Rearranging the clothes in the trunk, she closed and locked the lid. Removing a bottle of scotch and a card from the tote, she placed them on the bar and took her drink into the bedroom, closed the door, and waited.

An hour later Paul Richter entered his suite and grinned as he saw the trunk. As he pulled out his cell phone, the bottle of Macallan Rare Cask Black Scotch on the bar caught his eye and his grin widened.

“Jamie, it’s me. The trunk’s here. I see that bottle you sent. Don’t be spending our money on $800 Scotch right now. Give me a call back so we can get the next step going.”

He ended the call and poured himself a generous glass of scotch and drank it down. Pouring another, he took a key from his pocket and opened the steamer trunk.

The clothes packed for his overseas cruise were neatly stacked. He downed the second glass of Macallan, leaned in, and began feeling at the bottom of the trunk. After a couple of minutes, he began tossing the clothes to the floor as he continued to search.

Richter listened as the message on his cell phone indicated that “the party you are calling is not available.”

“Jamie, damn it! Answer the phone. Where’s the money, and where are you? Answer the phone.”

“I’m afraid Jamie isn’t going to be available to answer his phone ever again.”

Richter stood up and stared at the redheaded woman whose life savings he had planned to spend on himself in France.

“Why, Paul, you look surprised to see me.”

“What are you doing here, Shari? We agreed when I left you in Chicago, I’d send for you when I reached France. And why can’t Jamie answer his phone?”

“We both know you didn’t intend to send for me once you had my million dollars. You really should have picked your ‘best friend’ more carefully and not been so trusting about my money.

“When Jamie demanded the money and I realized what the real plan was, I convinced him that he’d have more fun with me and the money, rather than killing me like you ordered.

“After a bottle of your favorite scotch, I was able to get the gun away from him but instead of letting me go he tried to stop me so . . .”

She shrugged and gave Richter a hard smile.

“Look, you have it all wrong. I was going to send for you. Jamie must have gotten greedy and lied to you. We can go together this afternoon. My clothes are in the trunk, and we can buy you a new wardrobe. But we need the money. Where is it?”

“Right here in my tote bag. And I do plan on taking that cruise ship this afternoon. Unfortunately, you won’t be able to join me.”

Richter leaned into the trunk lid as Shari smiled again.

“There’s no gun there. I have it right here. I searched the trunk and then worked on its ventilation system for three hours before UPS picked it and me up. It was a little tight, but I managed.”

She pulled the gun and pointed it at Richter.

“You won’t shoot me. It’ll make too much noise.”

“I don’t have to shoot you. You’re wobbling and sweating. Don’t you feel well? I’m sure you don’t because that scotch you drank was laced with Fentanyl. By my calculations you should . . .

She watched as he pitched forward into the trunk.

“. . . Be near death right now.”

She removed the room key from his pocket and rearranged the body, tucking him inside the trunk and checking his pulse until it was no more.

She locked the trunk, placed the Macallan and champagne bottles and glasses in her tote bag and wiped down all the surfaces she had touched.

The front desk manager answered the call from Room 405 with a “maid” saying a note left by the guest said he had checked out on the TV screen system and asked that the trunk be taken downstairs for pick up.

The Bell Man returned to suite 405, started to reach for his “dead key” master, found the door ajar and the instructions on top of the trunk. He wrestled the trunk back onto the luggage cart, closed the door and headed to the elevator.

As the elevator door closed, Shari emerged from the suite. She tried the card she had taken from Richter. It didn’t work, meaning the guest had checked out. Riding the glassed-front elevator down, she watched the trunk disappearing out the front doors.

She smiled at the desk manager as she passed the counter. At the taxi area, she watched the Bell Man help the UPS driver with the steamer trunk.

“Where you taking this old, heavy trunk?”

“I’m delivering it to the airport cargo area. Says here it is going to Bolivia in about two hours.”

“No one going with it?

“Not part of my job. I need to get going and thanks for the help.”

Shari stopped the Bell Man as he headed inside.

“Can I help you, Miss?”

“I found this room key in front of the main doors.”

“Probably from a room already vacated. I’ll give it to the front desk manager. He’ll check it out and put it in the box to be reprogrammed. You going someplace special?”

“Yes, I’m taking a cruise. Thanks for taking care of that key card.”

“Not a problem. We get a lot of ‘dead keys.’”

She smiled and nodded as she got in the taxi.

“I bet you do!”