by Tracey Quinn
Later that afternoon when my shift was over, Mark and I were sitting in my office at the back of the Breezy Spoon discussing the murder of Rafe Duval. At least we were until I showed Mark Millie's article, and after that we were discussing whether Mark should march into the offices of the Gazette and demand a retraction of “Mark 'the Dick' Adams. Actually it wasn't so much a discussion as Mark saying he was going to do it and me trying not to laugh, and failing. There was a knock at the door and Jimmy called, “Are you decent?”
“Of course, we're decent,” I replied. “Open the door, Jimmy.” I could have asked why Jimmy would assume that we might not be decent, but it was Jimmy so I didn't even want to hear an explanation.
He opened the door a little and peeked in cautiously, as if he wasn't sure that I was telling the truth about being decent. “Is it okay to use the dumpster?” he asked.
“Yes, Jimmy, the sheriff was done with it hours ago.”
“No, I mean, is it safe?”
“It's not going to suck you in and throw a pie in your face and wrap you in bubble wrap, if that's what you mean.”
“No, I was just thinking that, seeing as there was a dead body in it, maybe I should sanitize it so it's safe.”
“Sanitize it so you can put trash in it?” I asked. Jimmy was one of a kind; at least I hoped so. “No, it's not necessary.”
“I'd feel better if I sprayed it with something,” he said. “I don't want to catch anything.”
“Fine. If it makes you feel better, spray it.”
“I can't find the spray.”
I sighed and got to my feet. The only way this conversation would end before midnight was if I found the spray or strangled Jimmy. “I'll be right back,” I told Mark.
“I live for the moment,” Mark said.
I found the spray that Jimmy was looking for easily, as it was in the same place it has been since I first opened the diner. I had turned to walk back to the office when I came face to face with Shua, Bildad's wife. She brushed past me as she headed for a booth.
“Ah, Miss Dani, we will talk,” she said.
Miss Dani didn't want to talk, but a customer is a customer so I followed her to the booth.
“Can I get you something to eat or drink?” I asked.
“Yes,” she replied. “I will have a cup of persimmon-coconut tea sweetened with agave nectar.”
Of course I had never heard of that, so I said, “Well, we're all out of that, Shua. Would a cup of Earl Gray or Jasmine tea do?”
“I am called Teela today because it is Thursday,” she said. “Jasmine tea will do. It reminds me of the islands.”
“What island are you from?” I asked.
“The one in the ocean,” she replied.
“Which ocean?”
“The big blue one made of water.”
“Is it near the United States?”
“It is near the country with many trees.”
Why on earth was I prolonging this conversation? “What is it you wanted to talk to me about?” I asked.
“I want to know if you plan to chase Bildad.”
Bildad was a large, surly hulk of a guy who seemed slightly scary. Trying to steal him from Teela was the furthest thing from my mind.
“No, Teela, I'm not planning to chase Bildad.”
“But I see you lurk in the alley behind Mr. Sammy's, and Bildad say you talk to Dora for long time. This is to chase Bildad for the pills?”
“Pills? What pills?” I asked. Was everyone talking in riddles today?
“The pills he paint for Mr. Sammy.”
“Why does Bildad paint pills for Sammy?” I asked.
“Because the blue dye does stick, so Bildad must use spray can.”
“No, I mean why does Mr. Sammy want Bildad to dye pills for him?”
“It is big secret of Mr. Sammy and Mr. Al. But now you find out so you lurk in alley to chase Bildad.”
“No, I was lurking in the alley for an entirely different reason,” I said.
“Then it is still be secret. We will tell no one.”
“You could tell me. We've already established than I'm not chasing Bildad, after all.”
“No, I will have tea instead of telling you.”
“Let me get that tea for you,” I said.
When I returned to the office Mark was leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the edge of my desk. “You were gone pretty long,” he said. “I was afraid you had found another body in the dumpster.”
“You have your feet on my desk.”
“This is true. If you're thinking of taking my shoes off and giving me a foot rub, I won't say no. It would relieve my stress level considerably.”
“And what's supposed to relieve my stress level?” I asked.
“Well, I would be happy to reciprocate by massaging any body part of yours that you choose. If you'd care for some suggestions...”
“Nope, the massage parlor is officially closed for the day. I was just talking to Bildad's wife, Shua- or Teela. She said something that would explain what those boxes and blue paint were doing in Sammy and Al's dumpsters.”
“Not a craft project, I take it.”
“Close. Sammy's got Bildad painting pills for him. Al's in on it somehow, too.”
“Painting pills? Why?”
“She clammed up before I could find that out. Whatever it is, it's a big secret. Probably something the law wouldn't approve of, if I know Sammy and Al.”
“And from what you told me, it sounds like they were afraid that Rafe Duval knew something about it,” Mark said. “Do you think they might have knocked him off to keep their plan a secret?”
“They certainly don't have a lot of excess scruples lying around, so I couldn't put it past them, but I've never heard of them doing anything violent before. Bildad, on the other hand, could have his picture next to the word 'violent' in the dictionary.”
“Maybe Sammy and Al sent him to rough up old Rafe to keep him from talking, and he got a little carried away,” Mark suggested. “Then they had a dead body on their hands, and they had to find a way to get rid of it.”
“But from what we can tell, the body that was getting ping-ponged around their dumpsters wasn't Rafe; it was the other chocolate pie-loving dead guy.”
“They could have murdered them both.”
“Yes, but why? Without knowing who the other body was, it's hard to find a motive for killing him. And why throw the body in a dumpster with a pie smashed in his face anyway? It's not the most logical way to dispose of a body.”
“Didn't Dora say that Bildad had thrown him out of the lounge the day before they found him in the dumpster?”
“Yeah, it sounded like he was a stranger that Dora hadn't seen before, but maybe the guy knew Sammy, or even Bildad. Shua-- er, Teela was afraid we were looking for Bildad, and it could be he's involved in more than just some scheme about painting pills.”
“Not that the pill painting makes any sense either!” Mark sighed, throwing up his hands.
“I know,” I said. “We need to find out what they're up to. I'm going to-”
I was interrupted when suddenly Charlene burst through the door, wide-eyed and breathless.
“Oh, Miss O'Shea!” she gasped, “Cooter James has been arrested for killing Dumpster Man and they're gonna throw him in jail and seven people from the bank were taken to the hospital because Deputy Holmes shot them and--”
Just then my cell phone rang. It was Bob on the line.
“I saw Charlene running down the street toward the diner, so I thought I'd better let you know what really happened,” he said.
I put the phone on speaker so Mark could listen, too.
“Mike McGarity was going to put a couple of tires on Cooter James' hearse this morning and when he got close to it he noticed a really bad smell coming from the car. He opened the back door and saw the body of a man wrapped in bubble wrap. He called us right away and Sheriff Wilkerson told his nephew Brian Holmes to go pick up Cooter
James. Brian for some reason thought the Sheriff wanted him to pick up James Cooter, the Bank Manager at the Farnsworth Bank.
“Brian went into the bank and ordered Mr. Cooter to put up his hands and lay on the floor so he could handcuff him. Mr. Cooter stood up and asked him what was going on. The security guard started over towards Brian, and Brian said he thought they were ganging up on him so he pepper sprayed them both. Mr. Farnsworth, the bank President, came out of his office with his secretary following him, so Brian pepper sprayed both of them, too. The fans were going in the bank and the pepper spray was blown all over the room. It got in the faces of two of the tellers and three customers plus Brian himself. Someone managed to call 911 and the EMT's came out. They were able to help out everyone but Mr. Farnsworth and Mr. Cooter and the security guard who got the worst of it so they were taken to the Emergency Room. Everyone's okay now and, as you can guess, Brian got fired.
“Now, when we finally got hold of Cooter James he explained that he was dumpster diving yesterday, looking for stuff he could salvage and sell online. He found what he thought was a mannequin in the dumpster behind the Emporium and he assumed that Al had thrown away. He thought someone had smashed the pie in the face as part of a some special display at the store. Only Cooter would think that, of course. He took it home, snapped a picture of it and put it online indicating that it would be cleaned up and ready for sale later on that day. Some joker in Pumpkin City said he wanted to buy it just the way it was because he thought it was funny, so Cooter was on his way there this morning. As for the horrible smell, Cooter said he thought that was coming from the moldy pie.”
“Good Lord,” I said. “You don't actually think Cooter killed the guy, do you?”
“No, of course not,” Bob replied. “I don't think Sheriff Wilkerson is going to charge him with anything serious. Being stupid isn't a crime, although sometimes I think it should be.”
“Have you found out who it is? The dead guy, I mean?”
“Not yet. We don't recognize him as anyone local and he didn't have an ID on him, but we'll find out who he is.”
“Maybe his fingerprints will be on file somewhere,” I said.
“Or maybe we can track him by his fancy boots, but you already know about those, don't you?”
“What? Why would-”
“That's why you were asking about Rafe Duval's shoes! Now, remember what I told you, Dani! Stay out of this investigation! It's too dangerous to go sniffing around with a murderer on the loose!”
“Okay, okay! I heard you last night!”
“I just don't want to find you in a dumpster with a pie smashed on your face, sis!”
He made a good point. Neither did I.
“Oh me, oh my,” said Mark with a grin as I hung up the phone. “Only in East Spoon Creek City!”
“Are you sure Deputy O'Shea is right about all that, Miss O'Shea?” Charlene asked. “That's not the way that I heard it from Jolene.”
“Jolene?” Mark inquired.
“Jolene from the beauty salon,” I explained. “She's going to fix up Charlene's hair and make-up when the TV network sends someone here from New York City to interview her about the lake monster.”
“Yes, she's the best,” Charlene affirmed. “We're going to see where we can get some extensions that match my hair color and she's ordered some of those little rhinestones to put along the edges of my eyelids like you see in the music videos.”
“That would certainly make her an authority on murder,” Mark said.
“Bob should have gone to her first,” I agreed.
“Oh, don't you worry about what your brother told you, Miss O'Shea,” Charlene said. “Jimmy and I will look for clues for you, so don't get in trouble with him. Jimmy was the first one to find a body in the dumpster, after all.”
“Don't even consider it, Charlene!” I warned. “Whoever murdered Rafe is obviously willing to kill to keep his or her secrets safe, and if they find out that you're digging into it they won't hesitate to kill again!”
“Dani's right,” said Mark. “He can only get the death penalty one time. He hasn't got anything to lose.”
“Oh, I see what you mean,” said Charlene. “I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to Jimmy.”
“Good,” I said. “And Jimmy wouldn't want anything to happen to you either. So you understand how dangerous this situation is?”
“I sure do,” she replied as she turned to go. “We'll be sure to wear disguises.”
Before I could respond, there was a knock at the office door. Linda Williams opened the door and said, “Brian Holmes is here asking to see you, Dani.”
I went out into the dining room and saw Brian standing by the counter. He was not dressed in his deputy uniform, and his eyes were red and puffy. He carried a clipboard and tape measure in one hand.
“Good afternoon, ma'am,” he said as I approached. “I wanted to stop in and see if you were still interested in getting an estimate for that patio? It turns out I have a little more, er... free time than I expected, so I'm available to check it out.”
“Yes, that would be great,” I replied. I was glad to see Brian going into the contracting field. This career change would be good for him in the long run, and good for Sheriff Wilkerson right now!
Chapter 10
It was late in the morning the next day and the last of the breakfast crowd was just leaving The Breezy Spoon when Cooter James came in to order a couple of chicken sandwiches and a root beer to go.
“No time to eat here today?” I asked as I gave Brendan the order.
“No,” he answered glumly. “I'd sure like to sit here in the air-conditionin' and have a bite but I got to get back to my community service. Between you and me, I think Judge Crawford givin' me 20 hours wasn't fair at all. How was I to know that that mannequin was a dead guy? Whenever Al Sholes shoots somebody he shouldn't have Joey just throw 'em in the dumpster! You can just bet that me 'n Joey is gonna have words about that! Plus why do they need me to plant grass behind the courthouse? It ain't like nobody goes back there anyhow and it's at least a quarter of an acre!”
“I'm sorry you got mixed up in this, Cooter,” I said. “Let me give you a free dinner gift certificate so you can eat here when you get off work.”
“Well, that's sure nice of you, Miss Dani. Some people are good-hearted, which is more than I can say about Joey. It's more than I can say about the sheriff, too! It's 'cause of him that the old hearse gave out! Those deputies rode it too hard when they took it away from McGarity's; you gotta take it real gentle until it gets all warmed up and such. I tried to tell 'em to leave it where it was, but they kept goin' on about how it was a 'crime scene' or somethin'! Now it's dead as a door nail and I can't use it to haul sod to the courthouse!”
Brendan stuck his head out from the kitchen window. “Did you say the hearse went down?” He called, scrambling for a pen and paper. “What was the mileage on it, Cooter? Tell me it wasn't over 365,000!”
“Now let me see if I can rightly recall,” Cooter mumbled, scratching his head.
“Think hard, man!”
I shook my head and grinned as I headed back to the counter. “Miss O'Shea!” I heard Kitty calling me, and saw that she was holding up the telephone. “It's Miss Stevens for you!”
“I'll take it in the office,” I said.
Tammy sounded tired and harried. “Dani, I need you to do me a favor,” she said. “You're going out to Pumpkin City today to buy a dress for the prom, right?”
“Ugh. The prom. I almost forgot that it was tomorrow night!” I groaned. “Yes, as soon as I get off work I'm driving out there.”
“It won't be that bad!” Tammy laughed.
“You swear it?”
“Are you trying to get me arrested for perjury? Is your brother on the line? Anyway, Brendan and I will be there too, and I told Brendan I'd pick up his suit from the dry cleaners so he can wear it to the prom, but I'm so swamped with orders today I just won't have the time.”
&nb
sp; “I'm glad to see that you and Brendan got permission from your daughter to be seen in public together,” I said.
“All right, rub it in! But I'll have you know, Shannon has officially stopped trying to break us up, believe it or not.”
“What happened? Don't tell me she's getting along with her dad's new girlfriend?”
“No, that's still the usual mess, but when she called me on the phone to talk yesterday, I told her about what happened with the body in the dumpster. Well, you know what a hopeless romantic Shannon has always been; when she found out that Brendan was ready to take a murder rap for me, she changed her mind about him completely!”
“That's terrific! Who knew that a murdered man in a dumpster could be a messenger of love?”
“It's probably the only good thing that Rafe Duval has ever done!”
“I won't argue with that. It looks like your business is doing as well as your love life, too. Is there some new prom tradition involving fresh baked bread that I didn't know of?”
“Nope, it's been nothing but chocolate pies all day, and I've still got more to go! When news got around town of the body in your dumpster with one of my chocolate pies smashed in his face, I started getting a bunch of new orders for them. Then when the body showed up again, the orders just started flooding in!”
“Hey, maybe this is how Famous Amos got started,” I said. “This could be the beginning of your big chocolate pie empire.”
“I'll need a lot more murders to pull that off,” Tammy replied. “Before this, nobody really ordered my chocolate pies besides you and Nancy.”
“Nancy?”
“Nancy Sheldon. You know, she's the dental assistant for Dr. Griffin, the dentist.”
“Oh, I remember now. I went to Dr. Griffin for a check up a couple of months back, and I met Nancy. She was really sweet and talked to me about how she makes pottery as a hobby and sells it on the internet, but her voice is so soft it was hard to make out everything she said.”
“I know what you mean; it's like she's doing commentary on a golf tournament all the time. Anyway, she gets a chocolate pie every weekend.”