by Tracey Quinn
“Well, someone has to help Jolene! And it looks like I'm getting pretty close to the truth, too!”
“I thought you said you got into a fight in the yarn shop,” Tammy cut in.
“The yarn shop? You're investigating Suze?” Mark asked. “Y'know, I thought she looked kinda like a homicidal maniac.”
“Goodness, Molly's going to be so upset to have to cut her trip short because Suze murdered someone,” Tammy said. “I wonder if she can find someone else to mind the shop?”
“No, I wasn't fighting with Suze, and she's not a homicidal maniac!” I shouted. “Well, she might be, but that's got nothing to do with this case. There were two shady guys in the yarn shop, and later I saw them breaking into Olivia Quinlan's apartment! I thought there was a chance they might have killed her and now I think it's a really good chance!”
“That sounds like something the sheriff should investigate,” Mark replied. “And while they do that, I'm going to take you someplace safe. Come on, get in the truck. We're going home.”
“But I have to wait for the police,” I said. “They'll need a description of the guys and the vehicle.”
“We've got the emergency band radio in the fire truck, in case you've forgotten, and you can talk to the sheriff on the way.”
“Go on,” Tammy urged. “I'll call McGarity and have him tow your car to the garage.”
I reluctantly agreed and Mark led me out to the fire truck. Pat Duffy was sitting in the driver's seat and Mark opened the door and helped me up onto the seat next to him. “We got a passenger, Pat,” Mark said.
“About time we had somebody better looking than you riding shotgun,” Pat said. “Where are we going? Charlene called and she recommends laying low in the alley behind Al's Emporium, if that helps.”
“Tell Charlene I've got it under control,” Mark said. “We're going to my house.”
On the way home I talked to Sheriff Wilkerson over the radio and described the car and the two men, and told him where I was when the shooting happened. Mark said nothing the whole time. I figured he was saving all his questions to grill me when we got home. I'd have to find a way to distract him. Maybe he was interested in cattle futures.
When we got home, the neighbors came out too see why a fire truck was pulling up in front of the house, and while we got out and went inside Pat Duffy was leaning out the window and giving them the lowdown. I got out the key to my apartment, but Mark said, “Nope, it's safer upstairs.”
“I need to take a shower,” I protested. “I have glass in my hair.”
“I have a shower upstairs, let's go.”
“But I need my shampoo, conditioner, moisturizer---”
“All right, all right,” he said, “but five minutes, no longer.”
Mark went into my apartment first, checked it for intruders and closed all the drapes. My phone rang, but he took it and said, “I'll handle the calls, you do your shower thing.”
After I got out of the shower I went upstairs and found Mark sitting on the sofa with my laptop on his lap. “I'm making a list of your calls,” he said. “There were a bunch of them so I borrowed your laptop to take them all down.”
“What?! You hacked into my computer?”
“Nope, just used your password.”
“You don't know my password!”
“I didn't, but I do now. It's Breezy. I'll admit I had to try twice. Your birthday didn't work.”
“Well, of all the nerve! You can get arrested for computer hacking, you know. People are in prison for that.”
“Since I didn't come across any top-secret government documents or photos of Area 51, I'm probably okay. I did come across your suspects list and it looks like I'm the only one in town that isn't on it.”
“Oh, so that's why you broke into my computer, so you could snoop through my files!”
“Not really. I was trying to make a new file and I clicked on 'recent files' by accident and this list of suspects came up.”
“I won't bother to comment on that piece of fiction,” I said. “My private files are none of your business, so leave them alone.”
“Okay, but I've got to say, your reasons for suspecting Millie are pretty flimsy.”
“Are you going to give me my phone messages or not?!”
“Absolutely. First off, the Coleman Brothers from across the street have their front window open and a shotgun pointed at the front steps of our house. They're going to take turns on guard duty. Clarence will have the first four hour watch and Lawrence will take the second. And don't forget you're invited to Clarence's 80th birthday party next March. You can bring a guest. Also, Clarence doesn't wear ties anymore.
“Howard from the end of the block will be sitting on his front porch with his service revolver from the Korean War in his lap, monitoring the street for suspicious people. Hilda will spell him when he has to use the bathroom. Shelly says her husband Hugh is organizing the neighbors at the other end of the street to form a blockade. They will be contributing their picnic table and two large lawn ornaments. Oh, and Jimmy offered to come by and stand guard but I told him not to because I was afraid that Howard might think he was an intruder and take a shot at him. His eyesight's not so good, you know.
“Then Roy from Roy's Septic Tanks called. He said he finally finished his doomsday shelter which he cobbled together from two used septic tanks and has buried in his back yard. You are welcome to stay there until your assassin is captured. It is fully stocked with Meals Ready to Eat, water and hand grenades. Apparently his son Jeremiah, who is in middle school, learned how to make hand-grenades online. He couldn't find out where to buy the usual hard covers that they use for hand grenades so he improvised and made them like water balloons. So in a plastic bucket you'll find a bunch of balloons filled with explosives which you should feel free to use if your attacker manages to breach the booby traps which Roy has installed all around his house. Note to myself: if Roy's house ever catches on fire, just let it burn.”
“Are all the messages like that?” I asked.
“Did I mention that Helen and Heather are making broth?”
“Oh, my,” I said. “It's so touching that so many people want to help me. They're all so nice and caring, and....”
“Not entirely sane?”
“Well, their hearts are in the right place.”
“Too bad their grenades aren't,” he said. “Here's one from someone named Donna. 'Heard you were with Nick at the motel this afternoon. Give me a call sometime, I'd love to chat.' You and I might want to have a conversation about that one. And last, someone you served with in the military is pregnant. Didn't get the name, but you probably know it.”
“No, I don't know it. Did you save the message?”
“Didn't think it was necessary. It was an out of state area code, if that helps.”
“Oh yeah, that person I know who lives in one of the other 49 states! Of course! Can I have my laptop back now or do you want to rifle through more of my files?”
“That's the thanks I get for helping,” Mark said, handing me the laptop. “Come sit next to me and we'll watch some TV to get your mind off everything that happened. I'll even put my arms around you to make you feel safe.”
“Your selfless generosity brings a tear to my eye,” I said. “But I'm just going to grab a bite and go to bed. I'm dog tired and I need to get up early tomorrow for work.”
“You're not going to work tomorrow!” Mark insisted. “Someone's been shooting at you, in case you didn't notice.”
“Those guys aren't going to come to the Breezy Spoon in broad daylight. I'm more likely to be shot here by Clarence or Lawrence than I am at work. Besides, it's Smoker Day tomorrow and I need to help Linda and Don get ready for it.”
“Oh, I'll bet they can get along without you for one day. What's Smoker Day anyhow?”
“Well, Brendan uses the smoker that's out in back and he makes smoked ribs, smoked brisket and his special smoked sausage. He uses the grill out there, too, to grill the
corn on the cob and we top it with garlic butter and Parmesan cheese. Don and I work together on the four cheese penne, the barbecued baked beans, and the fruit salad. We have to chop the honeydew, peaches, watermelon, grapes and fresh mozzarella balls for the salad , so it takes a lot of time. It's really too much for one person. Of course, Tammy sends over the cantaloupe pie and the cherry pie with almond flavoring from the bakery. That's where we get the sun-dried tomato bread sticks from, too.”
“You know,” said Mark, “I've given it some thought. I don't think you should give in to your fears. They always say that if you fall off a horse you should get right back on it. I can be ready to drive you to the diner in the morning. By the way, when does the smoked stuff special start, just in case I get the chance to wander over there on my dinner hour?”
“From 2 pm to 10 pm. And speaking of smoked sausage, we always have some left over so tomorrow Brendan will make smoked sausage meatloaf.”
“I've never heard of that,” said Mark. “Anything interesting come with it?”
“That depends on your definition of interesting; it comes with cheesy garlic mashed potatoes, fresh green beans with blue cheese and toasted almond pieces, tomato/avocado/cucumber salad and Tammy's sweet potato biscuits with Irish butter. She's sending over some Bananas Foster pie and blueberry streusel shortcake for dessert.”
“Did I ever tell you that I love you, Dani O'Shea?” asked Mark.
“Yes,” I replied. “Obviously it's cupboard love, but I'll take what I can get.”
When I got to the Breezy Spoon the next morning I snagged a cherry-cream cheese Danish and a cup of coffee and went back to my office. I was going to pay some bills and plan out what food I'd need to order for next week before I got down to Smoker Day preparations. I had only been sitting for a few minutes when I heard a knock at the door.
I heard Charlene's voice from the other side. “Miss O'Shea? It's me, Charlene Hensley.”
“Come in, Charlene, and I do know your last name.”
“Should I give you two a few minutes to adjust your clothes or anything?” she asked.
“My clothes are fine.”
“What about Mr. Adams?”
“He's either at the firehouse or putting our a fire and I'm sure his clothes are fine.”
Charlene came in and Jimmy was with her.
“I suppose you two came in early to finish what you were supposed to do yesterday?” I said. “The napkin containers aren't filled, none of the ketchup bottles are full, and the silverware needs wrapped.”
“Well, no, we just stopped in because we wanted to give you the good news,” Charlene said. She put a copy of the East Spoon Creek City Gazette on my desk open to Millie's column. “Miss Farnsworth has a really nice article about you to show that she cares about what you went through with folks trying to shoot you and all. We wanted to do something to make you feel better.”
“Also I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry I didn't call right away and tell Mr. Adams what happened when you went in Miss Quinlan's apartment,” Jimmy added. “He explained that you always want me to report your activities to him since he's your commanding officer. I asked if I should be calling you Private O'Shea and he said not if there was anything sharp nearby. I guess that's another military rule that I didn't know.”
Wasn't that thoughtful of Mark? Apparently he wanted Jimmy to live long enough to join the military. The way I was feeling right now, the odds of that happening weren't looking that great..
As Charlene and Jimmy left, I picked up the paper. Town Notes By Amelia read:
Your favorite columnist must take time out from her usual informative and useful articles to perform a civic duty for the benefit of this wholesome community. This is an open letter to the buxom, still unmarried Danielle Gwendolyn O'Shea, who makes pizza deliveries for a local diner. Dear Danielle , as we all know, during the past several years although you have traveled all over the world seeking a place that would welcome you, you have not found it. This reporter has learned that during your travels to other countries your disgraceful conduct has resulted in your having been shot at in each and every one of them. This week you brought chaos to our peaceful town, when once again your unwholesome activities caused shots to ring out in our quiet community.
Danielle, I must beg you have a good look in the mirror, and before you blame someone else, ask yourself, 'Is it me? Could it be something about my personality that brings out this desire in so many others to shoot at me?' Isn't it time for you to consult your inner demons and try to learn what causes your behavior to be so infuriating that some individuals feel they must take these drastic measures? This anti-social behavior is affecting all of us. I have noticed that since your return, the town has deteriorated to the point that the streetlights are often out in front of this newspaper, it takes hours just to get a tire changed, traffic on the way to the mall in Pumpkin City is horrendous, it's impossible to get a decent manicure, and this reporter's home deliveries from online merchants have been unreasonably slow in spite of her continual complaints and threatening e-mails. What next? Please seek help, Danielle, for all our sakes. Godspeed!
On the one hand I wished Millie would get another hobby, but on the other hand it was kind of impressive that she could come up with so many variations on the same theme. Just as I picked up the rest of my danish to take a bite, the phone rang. Apparently it was going to be one of those mornings.
I answered the phone and heard Bob's voice. “I wish I had known you were going to the Breezy Spoon this morning,” he said. “I went to your house to pick you up and I spent almost an hour getting your neighbors to take their lawn ornaments out of the street so I could reach you.”
“Why were you coming to pick me up?” I asked.
“We arrested those two guys in the orange and green car and I need you to come down to the station and identify them as the men you saw. I also wanted to tell you that we caught the shooter, too, so you don't need to worry about that.”
“Wait, those guys weren't the ones that shot at me? It was someone else?”
“Yep, we've got a full house at the jail today.”
“Well, who shot at me, then?”
“You'd better come and see.”
Chapter 12
“Cooter James!” I cried.
“It weren't my fault, Miss Dani!” Cooter protested, sticking his head out from between the bars of his cell. “I was only doin' my job!”
“And what job was that?!”
“Huntin' Bigfoot! You know them folks what live in the trailer park off Old Bucket Road been having a bad time with Bigfoot prowlin' around, and I remembered Jolene told me I should keep busy to get my mind off worryin' about her, so I borrowed my brother Jake's rifle and went up and volunteered my services to hunt down Bigfoot. Miss Georgine hired me on the spot.”
“And you couldn't tell a Firebird from a sasquatch?!”
“Well, I had set a bowl of pork rinds on Miss Georgine's porch on account of Charlene said she read that Bigfoot likes to eat that sort of thing, and I was sittin' in a tree where I could see him if he were to come up to get himself some. Sure enough, I hadn't been there more'n an hour when I hear somebody come crashing through the brush and then I seen his big woolly head stick out from behind a bush! I ain't proud to say it, but I panicked and missed my first shot. The problem was, Jake's rifle has got a right powerful kick to it and it knocked me right out of the tree, and I don't know where my other shots landed.”
“And now let me introduce you to Bigfoot,” Bob said, leading me to the next cell. Slouching in the easy chairs were the two men from the orange and green car, glaring sullenly at us. Bob pointed to the big guy with the shaggy hair and beard. “These two have been breaking into houses around town. We found a lot of items reported stolen in the last week in the trunk of their car. This one was peeking in windows looking for stuff to steal, and well, you can see the resemblance.”
“Hey, I resent that!” the big guy said.
“
Why were you two chasing me?” I demanded.
“We weren't chasing anybody!” the little guy snapped. “We were trying to get away from Rambo here before he shot us full of holes!”
“Hey! Watch how you talk about my boyfriend!” Jolene called from her cell. “If I could reach you I'd smack you right over the head for getting him in trouble like this!”
“Aw, Jolene!” Cooter mumbled, blushing. “You're so sweet! I love you, baby!”
“Oh, I love you too, sweetie! It's so nice we can be together like this!”
“I know! I sure missed you! It's too bad it had to happen on Smoker Day, though. I was sure lookin' forward to a big plate of that smoked brisket.”
“Aw, don't worry, baby! When Dani brings us dinner, I'm sure she wouldn't mind throwing in a little brisket for you. Would you, Dani?”
The little guy with the horse tattoo leaned out from between the bars and said, “Hey, I could go for some brisket, too. What sides does it come with?”
“It comes with a side of black eye!” I said.
“I'll take that as a positive ID,” Bob laughed. “Come on, I'll need you to sign a paper for me.”
We went out to Bob's desk in the sheriff's office. Sheriff Wilkerson was at the front desk talking to James Cooter, the bank manager, who was demanding to know why he had heard that a warrant was issued for his arrest over a shooting. While the sheriff was explaining it all to him, Bob said, “Stolen property wasn't all we found in those guys' car. We also found quite a large amount of marijuana, all wrapped in skeins of yarn.”
“Wrapped in yarn? Does that mean....”
“That's exactly what it means. Suze has been selling marijuana out of Molly's Yarns. I went to talk to her about it and she didn't even deny it. She said that since the town has a big crop of marijuana plants growing behind the courthouse, it wasn't a big deal if she took some and sold it.”
“Wait, what?” I wondered if I should pinch myself to see if I was still dreaming. “Is that true?”
Bob sighed. “Yes, it is. I drove out and looked and sure enough the lot behind the courthouse is a little pot forest. Do you remember the last time Cooter got in trouble and had to do community service?”