The Cheapskate

As Kate slid into the booth, she noticed the guy sitting behind her. Well, I’ll be! If that isn’t Carl, the jerk who walked out during our dinner date, last week, when I went to the powder room, leaving me with the bill. What a cheapskate! I wonder if he’s waiting for his next meal ticket?

Ah, here she comes. For Pete’s sake, it’s Mildred Statler. What a hoot if he tries to stick her with the bill. He must know she’s a lawyer. I think I’ll text her. I hope she’ll read it before it’s too late.

Mildred, this is Kate Masters. I’m sitting behind you. Don’t look! You need to know that guy is a jerk. I had a blind date with him, right here, last week, and when I left to go to the powder room, he departed and stuck me with the bill. Don’t let him get away with it again.

I held my compact mirror up and watched him. He at least had the grace to stand up until she got seated. As he sipped his drink, I hit “send” on my cell, and continued watching. Mildred was just putting her purse beside her on the seat, when she heard the ding, and read it. I was grinning, expecting an answer with something like “Ha! That’ll be the day. Thanks.” But that’s not what happened.

Her shoulders tensed for a minute, then she answered, “Thanks.” Period. Apparently, something was wrong, for she started frantically waving her arm, trying to get the waiter’s attention. She ordered a drink without waiting for Carl to do it, and seemed very agitated. Carl looked put out and must have uttered a negative retort, because the next minute Mildred, usually calm, cool and self-controlled, threw down her napkin without waiting for her drink, got up and left.

Carl sat there for a few minutes, scowling, his mouth tight with anger. Then he called someone on his cell phone, punctuating his words by jabbing his finger on the table, over and over. Terminating the call, his face reflected a look of grim satisfaction. He ordered dinner.

What in the world is going on? I was running possible scenarios through my head when my friend, Marilyn finally arrived, spouting detailed reasons for her tardiness. I let her finish, then put my finger to my lips and texted her what had just happened; also that Carl was sitting behind me and for her not to look at him, which, of course, she did. I held my breath. I was getting tired of holding my darn mirror, but something was really off. I could feel it.

His meal came, but he frowned at Marilyn’s periodic stare. Slowly, his gaze shifted from her to me, or what he could see of me. Help.

I doubted the jerk would recognize my face, much less the back of my head, but then, two and two became four, and recognition dawned. I couldn’t tell if his face turned pink from embarrassment or anger, until he slapped some cash down on the table (definitely anger) and left without touching his dinner. I put my compact back in my purse.

Marilyn said, “So that was the charmer who ditched you and left you with the tab?”

“That’s the one. It looked to me like he wanted Mildred to do something, and she not only refused, but in effect, said, ’screw you!’ However, what I’m wondering is, why did she come? Is he a client? There was no smile of greeting. Maybe they were having a thing, and she was calling it off. Nah. She’s too classy for that.”

Marilyn snorted. “Well, whatever it was, they sure pissed each other off!”

The next morning, Kate was eating a piece of toast with jalapeño jelly, watching the news. She stopped, mid bite, when the reporter said that the body of the attorney, Mildred Statler had been found in a dumpster behind a local restaurant. “OMG! I don’t believe it!” She got up and started pacing. “Who would …? Oh!” She stopped, realizing that more than likely it was whoever Carl was talking to on his cell when Mildred stormed out. I ought to call the police, she thought, but … if I do, Carl will know it had to be me who told them, because I saw the whole fiasco last night. Yikes! I could be next!

Instead, she called Mildred’s nephew, Junior, a rather nefarious character, but she liked him, and he was good at what he did. Naturally he was upset about his aunt’s death, and when Kate told him she had an idea who was responsible for it, he was all ears. She also had a plan. He listened, and said, “Consider it done.”

During the night, Carl’s house alarm was disabled and his cell phone taken. On it was his conversation with Mildred’s killer. Carl was arrested.

~ ~ ~

Kate answered her cell phone. “Hi, Marilyn. Yes, Carl is now sitting in jail. No, but he arranged it!  Poor Mildred. She was really going places in her career. Yeah, she was. I liked her a lot. What? Dinner tonight? Sure. Love to. Okay, see you there. Bye.”

Humming, as she was dressing to go out, Kate had a sudden thought. Surely, they wouldn’t let him go. Would they?