Mayhem, Murder and the PTA

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Mayhem, Murder and the PTA Page 20

by Dave Cravens


  “They all jump out as a bunch of self-absorbed bitches,” Julie groaned as she glanced the papers over. “What exactly are you looking for?”

  Parker tilted her head, confused by Julie’s sudden lack of enthusiasm. “People who might have something to gain from Heller’s death.”

  “Hmm. Gonna have to get more specific. Everyone hated her.”

  Parker tapped her finger on the list. “Come on, Julie, you’ve got the ‘in’ on everyone. Are any of these people struggling with massive debt? Are any of their kids failing class? Do any of them have access to a gun? Do any know how to break into a car from their wild college days?” Parker lost her train of thought as she watched Julie’s eyes glaze over. “What is going on with you?”

  “It’s nothing. Go on.”

  “No, you seem distracted. What’s wrong?”

  “Well,” Julie took a slow sip, which erupted into a mini-lecture. “Parker, you’re being so thorough and everything. You’re looking at everyone, big, small, dumb, fat, and hell, you even asked Glory point blank if he was the murderer!”

  Parker’s eyes widened. “Are you--? Are you offended that I don’t think you killed Heller?”

  “Maybe,” Julie rolled her eyes to the side. “I mean, what, you don’t think I could do it? I could do it! I work out every damn day, Parker, I’m strong as a fucking bull, and I’m fierce and I am dangerous!”

  “All true,” agreed Parker. How do I salvage this? “But to be honest, anyone with your killer abs and a butt like that couldn’t possibly have found time to commit murder between their regimented work outs, yoga classes and juicing schedule.”

  Julie softened a bit. “It just would’ve been nice to have been considered, that’s all.”

  Parker took a deep breath. “Okay. Did you murder Karen Heller?”

  “No,” Julie smiled as she settled more comfortably into her chair. “But thank you for asking.”

  Parker tapped the list again. “So, can you help? I’m looking for things out of the norm. Unless you’re a professional killer or a sociopath, murder is a major pattern breaker for people.”

  Julie snatched the list off the table to bring it in for a closer look. “They’re all psychos for joining the PTA.” Her eyes darted up and down, absorbing the first few names. “No one is jumping out to me in a ‘first degree’ way just yet. I mean, Heather’s a bitch. Jane always parks in the handicap space in front of school. Lorna’s having an affair with her pool cleaner. Debbie’s kids act like entitled dicks. Molly’s nice, actually, but boring as all hell. Tabitha’s breath always smells like eggs—I guess she likes eggs. There are so many, this is going to take some time.”

  “What about Holly?”

  “The President?” Julie arched a brow. “You’ve met her. She’s one French twist shy of snapping like a rubber hair tie. But she’s always been like that. I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned the one name on this list who was actually paid to kill people.”

  The statement gave Parker pause. “Oh, you mean, Joe.” As a former Ranger, Oak Creek’s gym teacher was trained in several highly lethal forms of combat and would have considerable experience with guns. Still, something felt “off” about him committing such a high-profile murder and making a big show about it. “Somehow that seems too obvious.”

  Julie hunched her shoulders. “Hey, I appreciate an American beefcake as much as the next girl but--”

  Parker rolled her eyes. “Please, he’s not that good looking.”

  “Sure, if you discount the perfect pecs, chiseled jaw and cocky Eastwood smile thing.” Julie smiled deviously as she took another sip of her coffee. “I’d saddle up for a night with him even if he was the killer.”

  Parker frowned. Ever since she’d learned of Joe’s political allegiance to the man who ended her career she considered him damaged goods. “Yuck. That’s gross. About as gross as my mom flirting with Glory.” Parker started gulping down her mocha to drown out the recent memory.

  Julie smirked. ”Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. They were only a one-time thing.”

  A white mist of mocha exploded out of Parker’s mouth like a geyser.

  Covered in spit, Julie’s smile vanished. She slowly blinked and then reached for a napkin on the table to begin dabbing her face.

  Parker’s stomach twisted into knots. Holy hell, what just happened? “Julie, I am sooooooooo sorry!” Mom and Glory?

  Julie forced a smile as she shook the spit off of the PTA list. “I’m going to go and clean up, now.” She stated in a strained voice.

  “Don’t hate me!”

  “It’s--fine.”

  There was that word again. Fine, meant anything but these days. “We’re you serious about my Mom and Glory?”

  Julie’s lips twisted into an impish grin. Her silence was clearly payback. “I’ll keep going over the list. But if I were you? I’d talk with Joe. If for no other reason than to check him off your list.”

  57.

  Parker hated to admit Julie was right about Joe.

  To not question him would be a gross act of negligence, despite Parker’s mocha-filled gut telling her Joe made little to no sense as a suspect. Yes, Joe had appeared to threaten Heller, but he had already apologized for it and admitted his actions were born out of frustration. Joe was a new teacher at Oak Creek, what could he possibly have to gain from Heller’s death?

  Let’s just get this over with.

  Toward the end of the school day, Parker moved some sympathy flower arrangements that adorned the front office to slip under the Silver Fox’s radar and make her way to the school’s playground. There she found Joe instructing an unruly class of fourth graders in the finer points of a kick ball game. She sat on a small bench under some shade, waiting for the bell to herald the end of class. Joe routinely blew his whistle and barked out instructions, quizzing the kids on the rules of the game. If they got a question wrong, he’d make them do push-ups telling them “you will be smart, or you will be strong!” The kids ate it all up, giggling at his military clichés as they struggled to do even one push up off their knees. All in all, the class looked kind of fun, that was until Parker noticed the young boy with freckles off to her immediate side who had been freakishly staring at her the entire time.

  “Jesus!” Parker’s entire body seemed to spasm all at once.

  “Hi,” greeted the boy.

  “Hi.”

  “Do you need a buddy?” asked the boy.

  Parker blinked, still recovering from the startle. “Do I need a what?”

  “A buddy.”

  “Ummm,” Parker looked the freckled kid over. “Do I look like I need a buddy?”

  “You’re sitting on the Buddy Bench.” Explained Freckles. ‘When you sit on the Buddy Bench, it means you’re looking for a buddy.”

  “Oh. Wow. That actually works?”

  Freckles shrugged. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “It’s just, you know, if I were a kid, and I saw somebody sitting on this bench, I would wonder why that kid doesn’t have any buddies. Like, maybe there’s something wrong with him.”

  “Is there something wrong with you?”

  “That depends on who you ask.”

  Freckles sighed as he looked up to the sky. “Listen, Lady, do you need a buddy or not?”

  “I’m good, thank you.”

  “Then stop sitting on the bench!” Freckles yelled.

  Parker was so surprised by the outburst, she immediately stood up. The yelling had also grabbed the attention of GI Joe who looked over in her direction. Luckily, the bell rang, and the children’s home room teacher emerged from the side door to collect them. As the kids exited the playground, Joe walked toward Parker with a smug grin on his face. He playfully tossed the big red kick ball up and down.

  “Making new friends, Ms. Monroe?” asked Joe.

  Parker nodded to the bench. “I think this bench might be broken.”

  “I’ll have someone look into that.” Joe stopped directly in front of
Parker to look her square in the eyes. “Can I ask what you’re doing here? Parents aren’t exactly supposed to be wandering the grounds during school hours. Especially considering what happened.”

  “I wanted to speak with you.”

  “That’s funny. Last time we tried that it didn’t go so well.”

  “Well, that was before Heller’s dead body showed up in the back of my car.”

  Joe’s smile faded. “Yeah--I’m sorry.” He pushed on the red ball between his palms, testing its pressure. “That must have been quite a shock. How are your kids?”

  “They’re – fine.” Parker quietly chastised herself for using the very word she was on her daughter’s case about. “That’s not true. I think Maddy is taking it pretty hard. Drew is overly concerned about Heller’s ghost. You had both of them in your class today. I’m wondering how they looked to you.”

  “I haven’t noticed anything unusual. I’ll certainly keep an eye on them.” Joe searched Parker’s eyes. “That’s not really why you’re here, is it?”

  Parker swallowed. “No.”

  Joe let out a nervous laugh. “You’re wondering if I had something to do with it, aren’t you?”

  “You were a Ranger; how would you assess the situation?”

  Joe nodded. “Listen, I want to help, but I already told your boyfriend everything I know.”

  “My boyfriend?” Parker scoffed.

  “Yeah, the Sheriff,” Joe’s eyes widened upon noting Parker’s stunned silence. “Oh, hell, I just figured. I see the way you two chat, and he’s always looking at —"

  “Gah! Stop! He’s not my—” Parker’s face turned red hot. “I’m trying to help solve Heller’s murder!”

  “Hold on, now,” Joe held up his hands, letting the ball drop. “I meant no offense. But I’ve cooperated with the police, and I’m done answering questions, okay? And you and I, we just don’t seem to--”

  “—mix?” Parker tried to finish Joe’s sentence.

  “—like each other.” Joe said at the same time, making the moment even more awkward.

  I’m losing him, and I can’t imagine my stupid ‘boyfriend’ asked all the questions that I would want to ask. “Joe, I think maybe you and I need a fresh start.”

  “I’ve got to go,” Joe pulled away and headed toward the school’s side door. “Besides, she looks like she needs to talk to you a lot more than I do.” Joe pointed to behind Parker.

  She?

  Parker spun around to find Principal Mendez standing uncomfortably close. “Gah!” And why does she smell so good all the time?

  Mendez carefully folded her arms and turned up her nose to look down at Parker. “Ms. Monroe, if you would please come with me.”

  Shit!

  58.

  This is the second time I’ve been summoned to the principal’s office and the school year has barely started!

  As Parker trailed Mendez into her office, she began to plea bargain. “Principal Mendez, I know I’m not supposed to just wander around the school, but, honestly, I was just checking up on the well-being of my children,” she started as Mendez sat down in her leather office chair. “I’m concerned as to how they’re adjusting.”

  “Stop insulting my intelligence, Ms. Monroe.” Mendez extended her hand to offer Parker the chair across from her desk. “I’m cutting you some slack because of what happened, but if I catch you poking around again, I’m going to have to get the Sheriff involved.”

  Wow! So, I guess we’re back to the Cold-Hearted Bitchy Mendez! “Understood.”

  “Good lord, I sounded just like Heller.” Mendez shimmied as if to free her body of Heller’s spirit. “And it’s not why I asked you here.”

  Parker shifted in her seat and pointed to herself. “I’m—not in trouble?”

  Mendez kneaded her hands together and placed them on her desk. “As you know, the front office has been helping to manage Mr. Heller’s affairs since Karen’s death. Ken Heller is a very sick man and needs our support.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “Last night, Mr. Heller contacted me. The funeral is set for this Friday night at the Presbyterian Church. Ken has asked that you attend.”

  Parker’s eyes narrowed. “Random, but--okay.”

  “He’d also very much like you to read the eulogy.”

  “Oh, um,” Parker’s chair seat suddenly felt very small. “Why?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  “Is he aware that his wife and I pretty much hated each other?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is he aware that I’m technically a suspect in his wife’s murder?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I don’t know about doing this,” admitted Parker. “It seems really unorthodox. Can I talk to him about this?”

  “He asked not to be disturbed before the funeral. He was very insistent.”

  Parker let out an exhausted sigh. “Is he expecting I write the eulogy or?”

  “He said he would write it.”

  “Why can’t Karen’s family read it?”

  “The Hellers have no family. Any siblings they had are long passed. And they have no children of their own. There is only Ken now, and for whatever reason, he’s asking for you. It seems like a rather simple request. Can I tell him you’ll do it?”

  Holy hell, what kind of set up is this?

  “On one condition.” Parker sat back in her chair. “I want to speak with him, alone, after the funeral is over.”

  Mendez breathed a small sigh of relief. “I’ll let him know.”

  59.

  “Why in the name of Jane Powell’s pipes did you agree to do that?”

  asked Valerie after hearing her daughter’s pronouncement when she returned home from school with Maddy and Drew.

  “Agree to do what?” asked Drew, tugging at Valerie’s pant legs.

  Valerie bent over to gently squeezed the cheek of her grandson. “Your mother is going to draw lots of unwanted attention to herself in a public forum, Dear,” she explained in a singing voice.

  Drew squished his face. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Go play with Ally,” ordered Parker, flashing her mother a glare.

  Drew happily dashed off to play with his little sister using watercolors in the kitchen. Maddy sighed and headed for the stairs.

  “And where are you going?” asked Parker.

  “Homework,” Maddy shot back as if to say ‘duh.’

  “Then will you practice the piano after dinner?”

  “What’s the point? My teacher’s been sick forever and may be a murderer.” Maddy’s voice trailed off as she disappeared up the stairs. The door slammed shut.

  Parker looked back to her mother. “I know it’s wrong, but I’ll take this attitude over ‘Mopey-Maddy’ any day.”

  “You never answered my question,” said Valerie.

  Parker threw her hands to her hips. “That makes us even, I think. You and Glory had a fling?” Parker almost choked on her words.

  “Who told you that?”

  “It doesn’t matter, Mom, you’re old enough to be his grandmother!”

  Valerie flashed her trademark smile that wasn’t so much a genuine expression of happiness as it was an attempt to keep herself from pouncing with the savageness of a lioness. “That’s ridiculous. The math doesn’t add up. I was twenty when I had you, which means you would had to have been around ten or twelve to have given birth to Glory.”

  “Gahhhhhh, damnit, Mom!” Parker closed her eyes, trying to wipe the images from her brain. “Why did you have to go there?”

  “That’s practically Maddy’s age. What kind of loose-legged daughter did I raise?”

  “Bleck! Stop! I get it!” Parker raised her right hand as if to surrender.

  “What you don’t seem to get is that this reading this eulogy is probably another Heller set up!”

  “Mother, of course it’s a set up.” Parker’s words carried a hint of frost. “I’m not
an idiot. But the request has placed me in a lose – lose situation. If I don’t do it, I’m sure to be branded as the ‘heartless bitch’ who couldn’t get over herself to help an ailing widower. By agreeing to do it, I’m walking into whatever Mr. Heller’s got in store. At least I’m walking in with my eyes open and I get something out of it – an exclusive with Ken Heller, himself. I’ve been dying to speak with that guy.”

  Valerie frowned at the statement.

  “Poor choice of words, I know,” conceded Parker. Anxious to move on she threaded her fingers together and stretched them backwards. “So, what do we know about Ken Heller?”

  Valerie shook her head. “No one knows anything about Ken Heller. He’s kept to himself, especially these last few years. I’ve lived in this town for all my life, and I’ve probably seen him only a handful of times.”

  I wonder if Julie can dig up any dirt on him? Parker rubbed her chin. “What kind of man would marry the likes of Karen Heller?” Before she could give the question any serious thought, her phone buzzed. “Oh hell,” she grumbled after checking the ID and putting her phone to her ear. He’s the last person I want to talk with right now. “What?”

  “I thought you said were going to keep a low profile?” asked Sheriff Bill.

  “I never say that,” Parker shot back.

  “Giving the eulogy about the woman found murdered in the back seat of your car seems like a bad idea.”

  How did he hear about the eulogy so quickly? “Thanks. I’m not one of your deputies and I’m certainly not your girlfriend or anything, so I’ll do what I want.”

  “My girl--?” Sheriff Bill fell silent for what felt like a micro eternity. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “Nothing,” lied Parker. She couldn’t help but replay Joe’s boyfriend comment back in her mind over and over, which only fueled her current frustration. “I’m trying to find a killer. Are you trying to find a killer? Or are you still following all the wrong leads?”

 

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