It's Marple, Dear

by L Mad Hildebrandt

  We found our turn with no problem, and pulled off the highway. The trail dropped down into the arroyo, and I crawled along just far enough to get out of sight of the highway. I maneuvered the Jeep to the slope closest to the school, and cut the motor. We hadn’t brought flashlights, thinking they’d make us look more suspicious than we already did if someone caught us before… or after… we got in the school. So, we flicked on our cell phones to light our way.

  We clambered up the wall of the arroyo. I’d chosen a location that wasn’t too steep. It wasn’t too hard to get to the school. First, students had forged a path for us already, no doubt to sneak off and play hooky, and maybe smoke pot down in the arroyo. Second, the school was well lit. Inside, and out. I hadn’t thought of that. At least there weren’t any security cameras installed. Or so Mother told me. It was an ongoing political battle in the city council: to invade, or not to invade, the privacy of our children. That was the question. Thus far, the ‘not to’ invaders were winning. But at what cost? After tonight, maybe they should invade. If we could figure out how to get in, anyone could.

  The final thing we hadn’t counted on was the security guard. But, I’d brought along my secret weapon where men were concerned. Donna Trueblood. Even at sixty, she was one heck of a hot-blooded woman. Her many ‘facials’—probably face-lifts—had kept her looking a youthful… well, probably a youthful ‘younger than me’ look. And she came stacked with a voluptuous figure. Looking over the top of the rise, we debated our options. Then, she went one way, and I another. The good thing about that plan was, it worked. The security guard stopped his rounds, and gaped, and talked, while I tried to get inside. The bad part of the plan? I forgot to get the ring. So, when I rounded the school, I had no way to cut windows.

  I tried nearly every window on the inside of the U shaped building’s courtyard. None budged. The other side, I’d already noted, didn’t have opening windows. So, that was it. A no-go. As I trudged around the back of the hall, I pulled my cell out of my pocket, preparatory to giving her ‘the call.’ I passed the back door. On a totally off-chance I slipped on my gloves, grabbed the handle, and depressed the thumb key. The door swung open. I stood there in shock, then, surreptitiously, slipped into the school. What idiot had left the door open?

  What was I looking for? I didn’t know for sure. An accounts journal, of course. The one I wanted would most likely be found in the nurse’s office. So, I went there first. The journal was relatively easy to find. I looked on the shelves, on the desk, and then found it in a drawer. It felt a little creepy, sneaking around in Tammy Lynn Wilson’s office. But, there weren’t any ghosts. Then, I headed for the front of the school. I wanted the journal with the doctored figures. Somehow, I didn’t think they were going to show up in the same book. It made most sense to check in the main office, and in the Principal’s and Vice Principal’s offices. Any of them might have sign-off responsibilities for purchases, I figured. I found nothing in the main office. I glanced out the glass front windows. Donna faced me, keeping the guard’s back to the building. So far, so good. I moved into the Principal’s office. Nothing there, either.

  I slipped across the hall, and into Patsy Daniel’s office. Finding nothing, I turned to go. I started to turn the doorknob when I felt the buzz in my pocket. I pulled my phone out, and clicked the text button. “Get out,” it said. Footsteps in the hall told me to drop below the level of the glass-fronted door. Wavy glass, but semi-sheer. Crud, I thought. This was definitely not my best idea. If I got caught in here, I was going to jail. And then Lonnie would be ticked with me. That mattered, but not at the moment. Right now I had to get out. I crawled across the room, and crammed myself under the desk. Shoot. The blood rushed in my ears as I tried to hear past the roaring sound. Was this what tinnitus was like? Poor sods. The footsteps paused at the Principal’s door. I could hear the door swing open, a long pause—probably as the guard glanced around for intruders like me. I held my breath, and tucked my cell phone tight against my belly. Crap, I’d forgotten to turn off the ringer! I prayed it wouldn’t give me away. And then the door shut again. I breathed with relief and started to move out from under the desk.

  Oh, Holy Cow! The footsteps moved across the other room toward a door connecting the offices. I glanced quickly around, and scuttled back behind the desk. I dropped my head, and, at the last second, shoved the phone under my shirt to hide the light from any unexpected texts. I still hadn’t silenced it! The door opened. I held my breath. Pause. He flashed his light around the room. Go. Away. I. need. to. breathe. He crossed the office and opened the door to the front office and the hall. The door shut, and his footsteps continued on down the hall pausing at doors. Opening and shutting them. Relief flooded through me, and I thought I might pass out as air filled my straining lungs. I took a grateful breath. And looked up.

  On the top shelf, pushed way back was a frog. I took a second look at the room and wondered why I hadn’t noticed them before. Frogs were everywhere. But the one on the top shelf drew my attention. I stood, and stretched my hand up, but was too short to reach it. I pulled over the desk chair, and climbed up. I hung onto the shelves as I tried to get my balance. The thing had wheels, as most desk chairs do, and it wanted to roll the opposite direction from where I wanted to lean. Carefully, I reached up. I almost touched it. I paused. What was reddish brown on a green frog? My fingers trembled. Flashing lights pricked behind my eyes as stress and nerves hit me. Was I going to pass out? What I believed… what I knew… was blood. Tammy Lynn Wilson’s blood. The chair rolled out from under me, and I crashed to the floor.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Oh my God! I heard footsteps running through the hall, coming my way. I had no way out. No way, but the window. Where was Donna’s ring now? I grabbed the closest thing at hand—a heavy paper cutter—and flung it at the window. It bounced off the ‘glass’ and crashed onto my foot. “Ow!” I hopped up and down. What was with that? The school thought they needed bulletproof glass or something? I limped toward the window and flung my body hard against it, like they do in movies. Like the paper cutter, I bounced back. Losing my balance, I landed hard on my butt. I could hear the guard reach the corner and skid around it. I only had seconds! I was caught! What would Lonnie say? For sure, he’d be mad. And I’d probably spend the next few years in a room half the size of the one I was currently trapped in.

  I ran to the door and locked it. That would give me a second or two. I shook as I backed toward the window, wincing with each step I took with my smashed toes. The doorknob rattled. The guard raised his hand and cupped it against the wavy bathroom glass, trying to peer in. I was cornered. The guard rattled his keys, and I knew I was caught.

  “Yoohoo!”

  I leaped away from the window, back into the room. “What the…” I began. Then gave a silent prayer as I spied Donna’s face through a hole in the glass. She waved her fingers at me. Her ring sparkled.

  “Get back,” I said, and grabbed the paper cutter from the floor. I shoved the cutting arm through the small hole she’d made. I breathed silent thanks that it was big enough around for the long piece to fit through. And also thanked the stars that the school still used these monstrosities from my youth. I dropped my full weight on the machine’s wooden base and the window shattered into a million tiny pieces.

  As I vaulted through the frame I could hear the click of the lock as the guard turned the key. “Ouch!” I hit the hard pavement outside, and I rolled as ‘Captain Kirk’ style as I could, over my shoulder and up on my feet. Grabbing Donna’s hand we tore down the length of the building and around the corner.

  “Stop!” The guard yelled through the window. Of course we didn’t, and I didn’t look around to see if he’d recognized us. Or more precisely, Donna, since he’d spent the better part of an hour talking to her. I said a prayer to the Serengeti Hippos, who’d kept me on my toes, and physically fit, for six long months.

  ❃ ❃ ❃

  The frog caused a sensation among the ladie
s who awaited us in Mother’s living room. They commiserated, of course, with Donna’s and my near capture. They congratulated us on our decision to come home the long way round, since the school yard would, no doubt, be filled with police cars after our escapade. But the frog was the icing. Or at least, the blood was.

  We didn’t have the frog, of course, so we couldn’t be sure it was, in fact, blood. Turning on the speaker, Maria made the call. We all gathered around her as she held a cloth over the phone and spoke in as deep a voice as she could make when Lonnie answered his cell. My heart leap-frogged as he spoke. But, I swallowed, and listened in to his and Maria’s conversation.

  “Sheriff,” she said. “I would like to report a possible murder weapon.”

  “Only possible?”

  “You see, we’re not quite sure.”

  I could almost hear him sigh. What were we doing wrong? Should we have waited to call, only when we knew for a fact that we had the murder weapon?

  Maria continued in her ridiculously deep voice. “We’re nearly certain.”

  “We?”

  Oops. Maria tried to fix it. “Me. I meant me.”

  “Like the royal ‘we,’” Lonnie almost laughed. I realized he knew who ‘we’ were. Of course, I could kick myself with my unhurt foot! Caller ID. But the others continued the charade.

  “Yes,” his grandmother said in her faux deep voice. “If you will look at the frog statue on the top shelf of Vice Principal Daniels’ office, I believe you will find an item that matches the marks on the autopsy of Tammy Lynn Wilson.”

  His response was suddenly serious. “Where did you get a hold of the autopsy photos?”

  Maria glanced around for help. I shrugged. I had no idea who Mother’s mysterious benefactor was. Aside from the ‘handyman’ thing. “That is of no importance,” she finally said.

  “Grandma,” Lonnie said. “I know who you are, and I know all your friends are around you, listening in.”

  We drew in a collective breath.

  “This is not your grandmother,” Maria said.

  “I can tell by the phone number.”

  “But, it’s a throw away.” Her voice reverted to her own.

  “Maybe. But you’ve been using it for a while. You called me last week, and I plugged in your name.”

  I covered my mouth to stifle a laugh, but I knew it was no laughing matter. Donna and I had gone to the school, and I had broken and entered. Actually, I entered… and broke out. I didn’t think the police would see much difference in that.

  “Tell you what,” Lonnie said. “I’m not going to ask you where you got your information… for now. I will go see about this frog statue you seem to think is a murder weapon, and then we’ll talk about this later.”

  “Alright,” Maria said. Her expression said this is serious. I agreed.

  “I mean all of you,” he roared through the phone. Yes sirs all around.

  When he’d hung up, Donna turned on Maria. “How could you mess up like that?”

  “I’m sorry,” Maria said, and collapsed into a black chair. She rested her elbows on the game table. “I thought the pay as you go phones were untraceable. You know. Burners.”

  Mother stopped her incessant yarn twirling. “I believe the idea is to use the phone a few times, and then throw it away before anyone knows it’s yours.”

  “Thus the phrase ‘throw away’ phone.” Donna didn’t let it drop. “Raymond and I risked our lives out there, and our freedom, I might add. For what? So you can throw it away with your phone?”

  “Stop,” I said. “Please. I’m the one who’s going to go to jail.”

  “If it comes to that,” Mother said.

  ❃ ❃ ❃

  Tuesday morning, Mother’s Solitaire ladies arrived bright and early. I sat silently at the game table thinking about the previous night’s escapade. While I had practically been caught red-handed in the vice principal’s office, I had managed to drop my sister’s name to number two on my suspect list. I couldn’t necessarily consider her cleared, because she could just as easily have gotten into the school and put the frog on Patsy Daniels’ shelf as I’d had in getting in. Unless the police could prove, absolutely, that it was Patsy’s, then I couldn’t be one hundred percent sure that my sister was innocent.

  Lonnie showed up at eight. I wanted to grab him, kiss him, and tell him all about my near disaster of the previous evening. But I couldn’t do any of that. Instead, I joined the ladies as they took their places around the game table, contrite faces, and slumped shoulders. Except Mother. She sat in her chair, knitting needles in hand, trying her darndest to remember a skill she’d never known.

  “First off,” Lonnie said. “I’m the Sheriff, and you ladies need to remember that.” He stared me down, and I dropped my eyes. “As for that frog?”

  The ladies shifted in their seats, and I could feel their breaths were as bated as mine.

  “It’s the genuine article,” he said.

  A cheer arose, and Donna raised her tea cup. “Break out the bubbly,” she proclaimed.

  “Not so fast,” Lonnie stood in a wide stance, commanding the room. “Because of your little ‘escapade’ shall we call it,” and again he stared at me, “Patsy Daniels has claimed that the frog was not hers.”

  “Not hers?” I slapped the table. “That office was filled with frogs.”

  “I didn’t hear that.” He raised an eyebrow, directed at me. Of course, he knew which of us broke into the school. The young one. I was instantly contrite and dropped my eyes. He looked genuinely angry with me, and I knew he should be. The skin on my arms prickled. Had I blown it? I glanced up again, but he was looking at Mother. Did he even remember our interlude? Or was I just another in a line of women? He gave no sign of it.

  “The official report describes a series of frogs in her office,” he continued. “But she stated that her love for frog statuettes is well known. Further, she said that the person who broke into her office did so in order to frame her for the murder of Tammy Lynn Wilson. That the murder weapon is not her frog, nor had she ever seen it before. She said the frog was brought to her office and left by the person who broke into the school.”

  I was stunned. Thankfully, I hadn’t touched the thing. Besides, I wore gloves. And luckily, the chair had rolled out from under me when it did. Of course, if it hadn’t, this conversation would, no doubt, have been markedly different. So, unluckily, the chair had rolled.

  “You’ve collected the frog as evidence, have you not, Sheriff?” Mother paused in her ‘knitting.’

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Good. You will, of course, find no prints on it, at all.”

  “I expect so.” Again, he looked at me. And again, I looked away.

  “But what about the blood? Why was that still there?” Oops. Why couldn’t I shut my darned mouth? Every time I spoke, I made it clear that I’d been the one in the office.

  “Why, of course,” Mother said. “The murderer didn’t get a chance to clean it.”

  “Ah,” the ladies said in unison.

  Lonnie crooked his finger at me as he headed for the door. I followed him, hang dog. The familiar, mischievous glint was gone from his eyes—hadn’t been in them this whole conversation. I knew I was in trouble. We went out onto the stoop. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, my hands tucked behind my back.

  He didn’t face me right away. Instead, he looked out at the road, ran a hand through his hair and shoved on his cowboy hat. “Listen,” he said at last, but he didn’t turn to face me. He gave off an ‘official’ vibe in his Sheriff’s uniform. I cringed inside. “I’m not going into anything. I don’t want to know, because then I would have to tell Marty.” He referred to the Police Chief, I realized, from Dee’s escapade at the jail. “Whoever broke into the school, and right now they’re thinking it was kids… or maybe Tammy Lynn’s killer… could be in big trouble if she’s…” He choked on the words, and then continued. “If she’s caught.”

  “I…�
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  He waved me quiet, finally turning his stern glare on me. “If I get a hint of you messing around like that I’ll have to arrest you,” he said. “Or hold you for the City Police. The crime at the school was in their jurisdiction. And I kid you not, it was a crime.”

  “I…” The words died in my throat at his expression.

  “I may have encouraged you,” he said, then shifted his gaze to the window where I knew Mother’s gang hid behind the sheers. It was open a few inches for the swamp cooler. His words were clearly meant for them too. “I take responsibility for that.” He didn’t mention mother’s affliction, but I could tell he thought about it. “There isn’t any excuse for what went on. I should have been told about your suspicions. All of yours.” He glared again toward the window.

  He doffed his hat again, dusted it off, then slammed it back on his head. “I have to go.”

  “What about their date?” Paisley’s high pitched whisper emanated from the window followed by a series of hushing sounds.

  Lonnie looked at me, his hand on the butt of the gun in his holster, his legs in a broad stance. I hung my head. Had I brought him to this… this anger? Something inside me hardened, and I stared boldly back into his eyes, chin lifted high. What I’d done might be criminal, but it was for Jennifer Garfield. The police—and Sheriff Lonnie—had failed her. If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t have needed to search for the evidence that would clear the girl’s name. And I’d done it for my mother. Because if I hadn’t, she would have.

  “It looks like I’m going to be busy tonight,” he said.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  When Lonnie left, I limped over to the plaza to get a coffee. I hadn’t had one for days, and I really needed the jolt after our encounter. Why he didn’t just arrest me—I didn’t know. Certainly, he hadn’t been particularly friendly. Not like I deserved it, after my foolishness. I decided not to allow my mother, or her friends, to drag me into their crazy schemes again. I felt tears prickling behind my eyes, but the desert heat pretty much dried them as quickly as I could make them. Lonnie was mad. Really mad. But why should I care?