I nodded back toward the knife. “I think I see an inscription on the blade, but uh...”
“It’s buried in her back?”
I gulped. “Yeah.”
The overhead light flickered. I stood and wiped debris off my pants. “Maybe we could head upstairs now? Call the cops?”
Miss May nodded and climbed to her feet. “Works for me. Good job down here.”
“Thanks.”
I headed back toward the ladder. Miss May called after me. “Hey Chels?”
I turned back. Miss May approached and wrapped me in a hug. “I love you.”
I nodded. “I love you, too.”
As we emerged back into the kitchen, I pulled out my phone to call the cops. But as it turned out there was no need...
Because Detective Wayne Hudson and Chief Sunshine Flanagan were standing at the trapdoor. And they didn’t look happy.
7
Sun Don’t Shine
Wayne narrowed his eyes. “Chelsea. Miss May. Hi. Is the house tour downstairs?”
I stammered. “Uh... no.”
Chief Flanagan placed her hands on her annoyingly narrow waist. “So what were you two doing down there.”
“Yeah,” Wayne said. “And where’s Granny Smith and the rest of the group?”
Miss May let out a nervous chuckle. “Funny enough, we’re the only two here for the tour. But people always trickle in. For the house tours. That’s what you and Chief Flanagan are doing, right? Trickling in for the house tour?”
Chief Flanagan nodded. “That’s right.”
Ohhhhh. Now I get it.
“Of course,” I said. “That’s why you two are here. For the tour. And you came together, I guess. As a couple.”
“As a couple of friends,” said Wayne. “Yes.”
Chief Flanagan nodded. “Friends, colleagues, and open to any future developments.”
Wayne and Chief Flanagan shared a look. It was awkward.
Then Miss May made it even more awkward. “OK. Coming clean,” she said. “House tour never began. Granny Smith is dead in the basement.”
Wayne hung his head. “Please tell me that’s not true.”
Miss May nodded. “Sorry to rain on your semi-platonic parade.”
“This is unbelievable!” Flanagan’s tone was stern. “You two found another dead body in Pine Grove?”
“Hey calm down, we didn’t kill her,” Miss May said.
“Where is she?”
“Will you relax your tone?” I asked. “We just found a dead body. We’re already shaken up.”
“Save it, Chelsea. Just tell me where she is.”
“We already told you,” Miss May said. “She’s in the tunnels.”
“And I suppose she did not die of natural causes?” Chief Flanagan asked.
“Not unless a knife naturally inserted itself into her spine,” I said. “Sorry. That was insensitive.”
“She had a knife in her back,” Miss May said.
“Unbelievable!” Flanagan ran her hand through her hair. “Alright. You two need to get out. Wayne. Let’s get down there and investigate.”
“There’s that tone again,” I said, surprising myself with my bravado toward the police chief. “You really don’t appreciate how many mysteries we’ve solved, do you?”
“We could relax the tone a touch, Sunshine,” Wayne said.
Flanagan turned on him, her long red hair swishing across her back. “Did I ask you, Detective?”
Wayne looked down. “Sorry.”
Flanagan spoke into her walkie-talkie. “Deputy Hercules. Get in here. I need you to escort two suspects outside.”
My jaw dropped. “Suspects!? That’s insane.”
Flanagan ignored me. “Let’s go, Wayne. See what we can find.”
——
A few minutes later, Miss May and I sat on the porch with Deputy Hercules towering above us.
Hercules was the smallest, squeakiest officer in Pine Grove. But that day he had an authoritative posture. We didn’t make much small talk.
Then Wayne emerged onto the porch and let out a deep sigh. “The chief is not happy with the two of you.”
“We did nothing wrong,” I said. “Wrong place, wrong time. That’s it.”
“Why does this feel so familiar?” Wayne said.
“Because it happens all the time,” I offered.
Miss May put her hand on my arm. “Relax, Chelsea. Wayne and Sunshine are threatened by us. We solve the mysteries. We make them look bad. So they treat us like suspects to try to put us in our place. It’s not worth getting upset about.”
Wayne crossed his arms. “No need to take this out on me, Miss May. I’m on your side.”
“You’ve never been on our side,” Miss May snapped. “Despite how helpful we’ve been in these investigations.”
“That’s so not true,” Wayne’s faint Bronx accent came out more when he was upset. “We’ve had some good times. We’ve worked together!”
“Come on, Wayne,” I said. “You know we’re right. You and Sunshine did nothing to solve the last murder! She said it was a heart attack! Then she took the credit for herself when we caught the bad guy!”
Chief Flanagan emerged from the home, holstering her gun. “That’s not a kind assessment of my leadership skills, Chelsea. Nor is it accurate. I have acknowledged ‘ambitious local sleuths’ in several news stories.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, right. You said we ‘didn’t get in the way.’”
“You know what? You’re right,” Flanagan said. “I didn’t take the murder in Pine Grove as seriously as I should have.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“But you better believe the Granny Smith murder is my number one priority now. Little old lady. Knife in the back. Discovered in a secret tunnel under an abandoned house? That’s high profile.” Flanagan turned to Wayne. “We need a win on this one. Gain the trust of the community back.”
Wayne nodded. “You got it, boss.”
“Great.” Flanagan nodded at me and Miss May. “It all starts with these women here.”
“We’re happy to answer any questions you might have,” Miss May said.
“Let’s start with an easy one,” Flanagan said. “Why didn’t you call the police as soon as you found the body?”
I shrugged. “No service in the tunnels. You know, tunnels are classic dead zones. Like, ‘Oops, I’m losing you, I’m going through a tunnel?’ You know?”
“Stop. Babbling.” Flanagan glared.
I gulped. “Sorry. Uh maybe Miss May wants to talk.”
“Sure,” Miss May said. “We were planning to call you when we emerged back into the house. Lucky for us, you were already on the scene for the house tour.”
“I see,” Flanagan said. “So you and Chelsea didn’t investigate the scene on your own first? You didn’t spend quality time with the cadaver? Hunt for clues before the cops showed up and got in your way?”
Miss May shook her head. “Not at all.”
“I guess the killer turned on the light down there and forgot to turn it off, then” Flanagan said. “I’m sure that when we dust for fingerprints, in fact, neither you nor Chelsea will show up.”
Miss May chuckled. “Does the Pine Grove Police Department even have that technological capability? Anyway, we would need to be in the system in order for our fingerprints to come up as a match.”
“Keep talking out of turn and I’ll put you in the system,” Flanagan said.
“Do what you have to do, Chief,” Miss May said. “My friend KP says the mashed potatoes in jail are delicious. Remember when you locked him up for a crime he didn’t commit?”
Flanagan squatted down. Got right in our faces. She smelled like roses and raspberry gum.
“You two think you’re smart, huh? Well guess what? I’m smarter. I know you stayed down in those tunnels. Turned on the light. Knelt beside the body. Investigated the knife in the victim’s back.”
Miss May shook her head. “You forgot to m
ention the graffiti we didn’t look at.”
Flanagan shot a look at Wayne. “What graffiti?”
Wayne shrugged. “No clue, Chief.”
Miss May chuckled. “Seems like you two super detectives have more investigating to do. Can my niece and I go? We’ve got a dozen loaves of sourdough proofing and we should get back to them.”
Flanagan scowled. “Fine. Go. But don’t go far.”
“You know where we live.” Miss May walked away. I followed.
But then Wayne called out my name. “Chelsea!” I turned back.
“What’s up, Detective?”
Wayne hurried toward me. He spoke in a subdued tone. “Uh I wanted to say. It’s good to see you. I wish it were under better circumstances but... You look nice.”
“You know what would be nice?” I said. “If you could ask your chief to treat us with respect.”
“I know,” Wayne said. “We both should. You and Miss May... You do a good job.”
“Thank you,” I said. “You also look nice.” His chest muscles were almost popping the button on his crisp uniform.
“Are you looking at my chest?” Wayne asked.
I blushed. “No. Are you looking at mine?”
“No.”
I crossed my arms. “OK. I’m going to go before this gets anymore awkward.”
“Wait,” Wayne said. “Flanagan’s on a war path. Stay out of this one. Would you?”
I gave Wayne my best puppy-dog eyes. “You just don’t want us to solve it first.”
Wayne smirked. “So confident.”
“History has a way of repeating itself.” I smirked back.
“How about a bet, then?” Wayne asked. “The police department solves the mystery first, you and I go on a date. Somewhere nice. In the city.”
“And if Miss May and I solve the mystery first?”
Wayne shrugged. “You can keep playing hard to get.”
I thought about it. I was about to shake on our little wager, but before I extended my hand, Miss May honked the horn. I turned and strode off toward her big yellow VW van.
Wayne called after me. “Chelsea! Hold up! Is that a deal?”
I got in the car without providing an answer.
How’s that for playing hard to get?
8
Teeny Timey
That afternoon, Miss May and I entered Grandma’s and scanned the room, looking for Teeny. We spotted her chatting with Big Dan, the local mechanic, who sat by himself at a booth by the window. As we approached, we could hear Teeny giggling.
“You sure you’re all set over here? That oatmeal hot enough for you?”
Big Dan nodded. “Any hotter and you’d have to call a doctor.”
Teeny laughed. Miss May and I exchanged a confused look.
“Call a doctor! For the oatmeal! Because it has a fever!” Teeny chuckled.
Big Dan shrugged. “I meant call a doctor for me, ‘cuz I’d burn my mouth on the hot food. But if you want to medicate your oats, be my guest.”
Teeny laughed so hard she almost cried. “Medicate my oats! That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Miss May and I exchanged another glance, like, Does Teeny need to get out more?
Miss May cleared her throat and Teeny turned to us.
“Oh hey, May,” Teeny said, brushing her bangs back. “You should hear the stuff that this guy comes up with. He could make a death row inmate laugh on the way to the chair.”
“What am I doing on death row in that scenario?” Big Dan asked.
Teeny slapped her knee with such force I worried it would leave a bruise.
Miss May took a small step forward. “So uh, we all set to go in our normal booth?’
“Oh you’re fine, lady,” Teeny said. “Go sit. I’ll be right over.”
Miss May chuckled, and we shuffled to our booth in the far corner of the restaurant.
As Miss May slid into the booth, she kept one eye on Teeny and Big Dan. “Look at that woman. Haven’t seen her like this since hit Ricky Martin hit the scene a few decades ago.”
“Big Dan and Ricky Martin both have that Latin flair,” I joked. “She and Big Dan are cute, don’t you think? I bet they’d make a nice couple.”
“I would love that,” Miss May said. “But I would also love to talk about the case. It’ll upset Teeny if we discuss it without her.”
“How are you going to pull her away from Big Dan the donut man?” I asked.
Miss May pulled out her cell phone and dialed. It rang a couple times, then I watched as Teeny answered her own cell phone across the room. Teeny turned and looked at Miss May as they spoke.
“Hey Teeny,” Miss May said. “Sorry to interrupt your flirt-fest over there. But we found another body last night.”
Miss May waited as Teeny asked a question.
“Yes. A dead body. Why would I call you to tell you we found a living body?”
Team made a quick excuse to Big Dan, then hurried over to us and slid into the booth.
She leaned in and whispered. “How could you not tell me you found another dead body!?”
“I just told you,” Miss May said.
“But why didn’t you tell me before?”
“You were flirting with Big Dan,” I said with a smile.
Teeny waved me off. “Oh stop. I don’t flirt. I’m too old for that.”
Miss May and I responded in automatic unison, “You’re not old.”
Teeny demurred. “Well, whatever. Big Dan is just a friend. It’s always good to know a trustworthy mechanic. That’s all. He fixes up the convertible sometimes.”
“You sure that’s all he fixes up?” Miss May asked.
Teeny smacked Miss May’s arm. “Mabel! Please! I’m a lady.”
We all laughed and joked around for about another minute. Then Teeny leaned in with a conspiratorial look in her eye. “Alright. Enough chitty-chatty. Who got killed, how’d it happen, and who do we think is so guilty they can’t help but get found out?”
Over the next few minutes, Miss May and I told Teeny everything we knew about the case of the murdered Granny Smith. We began by describing Granny Smith’s argument with Beverly Brewster at the bakeshop. We concluded with a detailed description of our encounter with Sunshine and Wayne at the house on Beacon Hill.
Teeny jumped in as soon as we stopped talking. “Wait. Does this mean Wayne is still interested in Chelsea?”
I chuckled in disbelief. “For real? That’s your first question?”
Teeny shrugged. “Well, yeah. The Chelsea-Wayne relationship is juicy. He’s a big chunk of funky hunk and it sounds to me like he wants love, marriage, and a baby carriage filled with chubby Chelsea babies and a dog named Rover.”
Miss May laughed. “Chelsea would have chubby babies.”
I shook my head. It was true, but still. “Nobody wants Chelsea babies, chubby or otherwise. Especially not Wayne. He still hasn’t even asked me out, you know. I mean, not officially.”
“Unofficially?” Teeny asked.
“Well, he did suggest a wager,” I admitted. “If the cops solve the case first, I go on a date with Wayne in the city. But who cares about that? Granny Smith is dead!”
Teeny shrugged. “OK. Fine. I’ll move on. Who are our suspects?”
“Well,” I said. “I’m thinking it might have something to do with the graffiti. Maybe Granny Smith caught the vandals in the act and threatened to turn them in. So they killed her.”
Miss May shook her head. “But the graffiti artists are not our most obvious suspects.”
Teeny nodded. “You’re right, May. The most obvious suspect is that angry ex-husband, Wendell. He’s been fuming ever since Granny and Ricardo booked their trip to Sonoma.”
Miss May and I both raised our eyebrows.
“What trip?” I asked.
Teeny scoffed. “You two haven’t heard about the trip to Sonoma?”
We shrugged. Teeny laid both her hands flat on the table and throttled up into full goss
ip mode.
“OK. So Granny Smith and Wendell were married for over thirty years. You both know that.”
“Right,” Miss May said.
“Well,” Teeny said. “Through their entire marriage, Wendell and Granny Smith had one big dream together. They wanted to take a trip to wine country. Sonoma Valley. They wanted it to be a huge blowout. Wine, fancy cheese covered in mold, hot tubs. More wine. More mold cheese. Maybe a pleasant bike ride through the hills, followed by cheese and wine. Whatever.”
“Yeah,” Miss May said. “We get it. Standard trip to wine country.”
“Exactly,” said Teeny. “Sounds wonderful. But Granny Smith divorced Wendell before they ever got a chance to go.”
“Uh-oh,” I said.
“Exactly,” Teeny continued. “So then, as everybody knows, Dolores remarried Ricardo, that slick and spicy real estate agent. Well, Wendell didn’t love that. And he never got over his devotion to Dolores. Still, over time he made peace with it. But then, last week? Granny Smith and Ricardo went to some travel agent down-county and booked their own trip to Sonoma.”
I gasped.
Teeny nodded. “I know!”
“How did everyone find out about the secret trip?” Miss May asked.
“Well,” Teeny said. “The trip wasn’t so secret because the travel agent is my second cousin. She told me everything. And I told Peach and Petunia and Ethel and now everyone knows.”
Miss May shook her head. “You have cousins everywhere.”
“I come from a very fertile family,” Teeny said.
“But Wendell was defending Granny Smith at the bakeshop yesterday,” I said. “It didn’t seem like he knew anything about her and Ricardo’s upcoming trip to Sonoma.”
“I didn’t blab about wine country until last night. Poker game at Petunia’s place. After the bakeshop showdown,” Teeny said. “I can’t believe you two didn’t hear about this drama! Wendell right about had a heart attack when he found out about the wine and the cheese with the mold and all that.”
“Are you the one who told him?” I asked.
Granny Smith Is Dead Page 4