Heartache Motel: Three Interconnected Mystery Novellas (Henery Press Mystery Novellas) Read Free Page A

card number and everything.”
    Roxy wandered up to us. “We checked-in or what?”
    Ma pointed at the clerk. “They’re overbooked.”
    “The Christmas With Elvis Conference is full this year,” he said. “And we’re booked solid through the weekend. Let me give you some coupons for Memphis tourist sights to make up for it. Again, sincerest apologies.”  He shoved a stack of flyers at her, then glanced past Ma’s shoulder. “Next.”
    As we walked away from the counter, Ma grumbled, “I can’t believe this. It’s midnight and we have no place to stay.”
    A man in a white Elvis jumpsuit approached us. Large, colorful rhinestones adorned his short cape. “I couldn’t help but overhear. Memphis at Christmas is crazy.”
    “I had my heart set on staying here.” Ma glanced around at the tourists mingling in the lobby. “This place is legendary.”
    “If I might make a recommendation, there’s a place called the Heartache Motel down the highway a piece,” he said. Around five-foot-seven with sandy hair, he looked nothing like the king, but his smile was infectious. “It’s nothing fancy, but I’m staying there myself. They have theme rooms, too. And there’s an Elvis impersonator contest tomorrow night.  I plan on winning.”
    “Ooh, that does sound like a hoot,” Ma said. Adjusting her glasses with one hand, she held out the other. “I’m Ma Ferguson.”
    The man grinned and shook her hand. “Ron Michaels. If you decide to stay there, we’ll have us a party, Ma Ferguson.”
    She turned to Roxy and me. “What do you think, gang?”
    I was so tired, I didn’t care where we crashed. “Sounds good.”
    Roxy, who’d been staring at the bling on Ron’s cape, twirled her finger. “Turn around, let’s see your outfit.”
    He obliged. Facets of the stones caught the light, making the gems sparkle and glimmer. He’d artfully mixed the red, blue, green, pink and clear rhinestones in a sunburst pattern. But there was a blank space where a couple appeared to be missing.
    “Looks like you lost two rhinestones, Ron,” I said.
    He spun around so fast, the edge of the cape slapped my arm. “What? Where?” His blue eyes widened as he dropped to his hands and knees. “I have to find them.”
    “Relax,” Roxy said. “You can buy more. There must be a craft store around here.”
    He glanced up at her. “You don’t understand. Had to special order them.”
    Roxy and I hit the floor and helped him look, but the lobby was so busy, we kept running into people’s legs. Ma walked in circles, her eyes trained on the carpet.
    Axton, who’d been checking out memorabilia, knelt down next to me. “What are we looking for?”
    I tipped my chin at Ron. “That guy lost some bling off his cape. He’s wigging out.” Ax helped search, too, but after about ten minutes, we gave up.
    Ron stood, rubbing his hands down his cheeks. The smile was gone and his skin appeared paler than his jumpsuit. “I have to go.” He shoved people out of his way to get to the front entrance.
    “We’ll meet up with you later,” Ma called after him.
    On our way back to the car, I snagged Stoner Joe who sat crisscross applesauce next to a Christmas tree. While Ax used his GPS to find the motel, I drove through the dark Memphis streets. So far, nothing about this trip had gone according to plan. But I had a good feeling about this Heartache Motel. Sounded like fun.
    THREE

    Turns out, I have no psychic abilities whatsoever.
    Calling the Heartache Motel a dump would be an upgrade. A sad little tree with half its orange lights burned out stood in a corner of the empty lobby. The place was dirty. Dusty. Smelled worse than Stoner Joe after a convenience store burrito.
    “Awesome,” he said, spinning in a circle. He pointed at the gold-framed velvet Elvis hanging on one wall. “That looks just like my uncle. Dude.”
    Roxy sidled up to me. “I better not contract a disease from this shitpile.” She pulled a bottle of hand sanitizer