Macho Man Murder

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Macho Man Murder Page 11

by Leslie Langtry


  "Really?" She sounded confused. "Sounds serious."

  I wasn't quite sure how to take that. She did run away from me, after all. She knew I was calling and texting. "It is serious! Where are you?"

  "At your troop meeting, silly! Kelly asked me to call and ask why you weren't here!"

  Oh crap. I'd totally forgot. We'd planned to get together to talk about projects for the upcoming school year.

  "On my way," I said as I started the engine and tore out of the parking lot.

  "I really need to talk to you," I murmured to Hilly after walking into my house.

  We held a lot of meetings at my old house. It was very convenient. And I had fire extinguishers. A lot of fire extinguishers. Which was super important. Maybe the most important.

  "Merry!" Kelly, my best friend and co-leader, walked into the living room trailed by ten little girls. "It's a good thing I had a key."

  I started to herd Hilly out of the room. "Sorry about that. I need to borrow Hilly for a moment."

  She shook her head. "No, you can't. I was just telling the girls about Mr. Fancy Pants and how we need to work on that civics project now."

  "How did you know about that? I just came from seeing Dr. Wulf and…"

  Kelly said, "She called me for your number. I guess she just bought a new phone and…"

  "Mrs. Wrath?" Caterina interrupted, wringing her hands. "Is he going to die?"

  In spite of the fact that I was married and now known as Mrs. Ferguson, the girls continued to call me by my maiden name. It wasn't worth the effort to correct them. Believe me. I'd tried.

  "What? No, he's not going to die." I left out the part where he was off his Girl Scout cookies. That would've made them lose their minds.

  "He's lonely," Lauren said somberly. "He might die from loneliness."

  "Noooooooooo!" A unanimous wail went up.

  "We have to make a plan!" Hannah insisted passionately. "We might not have much time."

  Betty threw up her hands. "I offered a few weeks ago to kidnap the mayor, but nooooooo. You wouldn't let me." She pointed at me.

  "Why wouldn't you let them kidnap the mayor?" Hilly seemed surprised.

  "Guys, we just need to get him a friend. That's all."

  "Mrs. Wrath is right," Kelly said. She'd given up on calling me Ferguson around the girls a while ago. "We need to submit a request to get another vulture on loan to Obladi Zoo."

  "Why can't we just steal one?" Inez asked. "They have one at the St. Louis Zoo. It's only a few hours from here."

  "I'll drive!" Betty grabbed the keys from my hand and headed for the door.

  "We can't steal a vulture from another zoo," Kelly said patiently.

  "Sure, we can!" Hilly said. "I'll get my ski mask…"

  I grabbed her arm. "No one is stealing an animal from a zoo." I turned to the girls. "Think of how you'd feel if someone stole Mr. Fancy Pants?"

  That shut things down. Hilly thought about it and then nodded in agreement.

  "Is the National Zoo where we got him…" Ava began, the wheels turning in her little brain. "Is it part of the government?"

  Kelly nodded eagerly, perhaps happy to steer us away from kidnapping mayors and animals. "It is! The Smithsonian is owned by the government."

  "Well." Ava pointed at me. "Why don't we get Mrs. Wrath's dad to help us? He's like a real senator and everything."

  Twelve pairs of eyes turned toward me.

  I shrugged. "I can ask. But we may have to do more than that. I don't know."

  One of the four Kaitlyns spoke up, "What?"

  I may not have mentioned this before, but I had four Kaitlyns in my troop. They all looked alike, and they all had M as their last initial. After a few years, I was starting to see differences in the girls, but not enough to come up with another way to address them. I couldn't very well have Kaitlyn 1, Kaitlyn 2, and so on. Once I had asked what their middle names were. I wasn't at all surprised to hear that all four of them had Ann as their middle name.

  "What about a petition?" Inez suggested.

  "What's that?" another Kaitlyn asked.

  "It's where you get a lot of people to sign a paper so that you can get whatever you want. If you get like a hundred people to sign it, the authorities have to give it to you, no questions asked," Betty said.

  "Well, sort of, and not really, all at the same time," Kelly replied. "We can get signatures from people here in town to support the idea."

  "What about money?" Ava asked. "My mom always says no one does anything for free anymore."

  Kelly tapped her chin. "That's not a bad idea. If we raise money for the new bird's upkeep, that might help persuade the National Zoo to send a mate."

  "What's a mate?" Caterina asked.

  "It's a girlfriend who becomes a wife," Lauren answered. Her eyes grew round. "Hey! We could have a wedding!"

  A squeal erupted that was in all probability heard in Indiana, two states away.

  "Hold on," I protested. "We have to start at the very beginning."

  "Mrs. Wrath is right," Kelly said. "She will talk to Senator Czrygy, and I'll make an appointment for us to meet with Dr. Wulf to see if this is even a possibility."

  I looked over at Betty, who was writing something on a piece of paper.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I made the petition," the girl said, handing it to me.

  I read aloud, "'We want a girlfriend slash,'" (they actually wrote the word slash out) "'wife for Mr. Fancy Pants, King of the Vultures.'"

  "That's a promising start." Kelly smiled.

  "Wait," I said. "There's more. 'If you don't sign, you should know that we know where you live, and we really, really, really love Mr. Fancy Pants. No violets if you sign.'"

  "Violets?" Hilly wondered.

  Betty shook her head furiously. "Violence. Not violets!"

  I crumpled the paper into a ball. "We can't use that wording. We can't threaten people like that."

  "Why not?" Ava asked.

  Kelly responded, "Because it's extortion, and it's wrong."

  Hilly piped up, "Oh, I don't know. I could be the muscle on this. I think it's totally doable."

  I gave her a look. "No. You can't. This isn't Kazakhstan."

  "I liked Kazakhstan," she retorted. "And I only beat up those two guys because they said I looked like Hilary Clinton."

  Hilly Vinton labored under the delusion that, in spite of her dark hair, her height, and her golden skin tone, people confused her with Hilary Clinton.

  "Well, what if we pretend like we're going to do violence but not say it like that?" Betty suggested.

  "How can we do that?" Hilly asked.

  "I don't know!" Betty exploded. "I'm only ten!"

  This was going south quickly.

  Hilly thought about this. "What about something other than violence? Like a smear campaign if they don't sign?"

  "What's that?" Ava asked. As the self-proclaimed leader of the group, the word campaign probably caught her attention. Besides the CEO of a major insurance corporation, she also aspired to be the mayor of Who's There. I'd vote for her.

  Hannah spoke up. "It's where you smear mayo on them, duh."

  "No." Kelly kept her voice calm and level. "A smear campaign is where you tell lies about someone to make them look bad."

  Ava scowled. "Well, that's ridiculous! They should just call it a lie campaign."

  The other girls seemed to agree. I did too. I'd launched smear campaigns in my line of work before. Very effective, but I'd never liked the semantics of the word smear. To me it seemed like a word that only worked with mayo and sandwiches. Sometimes even together.

  "Girl Scouts do not," Kelly intoned, "hurt people or lie about them."

  Lauren nodded. "That's true."

  "Back to the original plan," Kelly added. "I'll call Dr. Wulf right now. After we have an appointment, we can discuss the rest."

  "Why don't you work on something to convince Dr. Wulf that we need another vulture?" I suggested. "Like a prop
osal?"

  Kelly seemed to think this was a good idea as she stepped into the kitchen to call.

  Hilly helped me pass out paper and markers. I really needed to talk to her, but I also needed to supervise the girls, who now had markers of self-destruction. I didn't think we could do both at the same time because I didn't want the girls to hear what I had to say. Mostly because they consisted of swear words. A lot of swear words.

  "Why haven't you called your dad yet?" Ava accused.

  "Yeah!" two of the Kaitlyns said. It was unusual for them to split like that. They always spoke as a group of four.

  Ugh! Hilly was right here, and I couldn't find out what the hell happened until I called Dad. Who was probably in a committee meeting or something. I needed her to stay put while I made the call.

  "Fine. Ms. Vinton will stay here with you."

  After giving Hilly instructions that basically said all markers could only be used on the pieces of paper we'd given them, I walked into the hallway. You had to be very specific with my troop. Not enough information resulted in disaster, and the girls would insist they were in the clear because we didn't specifically tell them not to color the cat with Sharpies, or we didn't say don't put markers down the disposal and turn it on. I'd learned many, many lessons from these girls, and that was one of the most important. The other was keep the matches locked up at all times.

  "Hey, Dad!" I said when he answered. I was happy to hear his voice. My parents, Judith and Mike Czrygy, were in DC all the time, and I missed them. Being an only child, they were my only source of familial support.

  "Merry! How are you, kiddo?" Senator Mike Czrygy's warm voice boomed.

  No time for pleasantries. "Great. I'm sorry to intrude on your day, but I have a strange favor to ask."

  Then I filled him in. He listened carefully and never interrupted, and I loved him for that. Mostly because I had ten little interrupters just a few feet away. The only reason we got stuff done was because Kelly was on task.

  "That shouldn't be too tough. I'll put one of my assistants on it. We will find out what the protocol is for securing a vulture." Dad was giving his only child's request to play matchmaker with vultures his utmost serious attention.

  We said a few more pleasantries before I hung up and joined the group, where Kelly was talking about her call.

  "We can meet with Dr. Wulf tomorrow at nine at the zoo. Let me know tonight if you can go and whether or not you need a ride."

  "Nine? Like in the morning?" I asked. "I'm not sure that works for me." I had too much investigating to do, and I wanted to check in with Ron and Ivan.

  Kelly gave me a look that froze me to the spot.

  I acquiesced. "I'm sure I can move things around…" My stomach interrupted by rumbling loudly. "Sorry. I didn't have lunch."

  Kelly stared at me. I didn't miss many meals. This either irritated or worried her. "We'll have cake soon."

  "Cake!" I started jumping up and down with glee. Cake was my favorite, and we rarely had it for snack.

  "We've got proposals," Inez announced. "Do you want to see them?"

  "Great! Let's see what you've come up with!" Kelly said after shutting my jumping down with a look.

  The Kaitlyns stood up en masse and held up a piece of paper, where they had drawn a picture of two king vultures holding…wings, while one vulture was down on one, um, knee.

  "He's proposing!" one of the Kaitlyns squealed.

  Ava nodded. "And of course she says yes."

  There was general agreement about that.

  "When I suggested proposals," I started, "I meant something else."

  Caterina stood up, holding up a picture of two vultures getting married. "Inez, Hannah, and I made this!"

  The girl vulture had on a long veil and a bouquet of roses in her beak. The groom wore a top hat, tails, and a pair of rainbow-colored pants.

  "Fancy pants, get it?" Inez asked.

  "This is great," Hannah said, "because we can show the Kaitlyns' picture first and then ours next. It's like a story."

  Kelly looked confused, as if she hadn't realized we'd assigned the girls to make storyboards. I totally got it. It probably wouldn't hold up to scrutiny at the Smithsonian, but it was some fine storytelling. Definitely better than Beetle Dork.

  "Well, we went with something different." Betty stood up with Lauren and Ava.

  In Betty's hands was what appeared to be a comic book featuring the life of Mr. Fancy Pants. How long was I on the phone?

  "This." She pointed dramatically at the first frame—an egg. "This is where it all began."

  All of my immediate concerns went out the window as I was drawn into the story. Mr. Fancy Pants had quite a life—going to boarding school in El Salvador, graduating from the University of Harvard, riding motorcycles in the circus, saving Cookie the Girl Scout Camp horse from Basque Separatists, painting a picture for the Louvre, and the pièce de résistance, he got his face on Mt. Rushmore.

  I whistled. "Well, if that doesn't convince the Smithsonian, nothing will."

  "You should throw in something emotionally dramatic," Hilly said. "And devastating. Like a loss of some kind."

  Betty thought about this and sat down to draw a picture where Mr. Fancy Pants' parents were killed in a car accident—caused by a velociraptor.

  "Like this?" She held up the last frame.

  Applause erupted, and the girl curtseyed. Hilly and I applauded louder than anyone. That was some touching storytelling.

  My stomach rumbled again. "Is it time for cake?" I asked hopefully.

  I didn't do fasting well. My thin frame and high metabolism weren't made for skipping meals—meals preferably loaded with my favorite food groups: sugar, grease, and wine.

  "Okay." Kelly gave in. "Help me in the kitchen."

  Hilly cocked her head to one side. "Why don't you have the girls cut the cake?"

  Kelly and I exchanged glances as we remembered the butter knife "sword fight" that happened at camp a year ago. I had to admit it was pretty epic, but we used up all of our bandages that night. And it was the first night at camp. Out of three. The injuries were shallow, like paper cuts (because it turned out they were pretty good at fencing), but we never gave them knives again.

  Kelly waved her off. "No. We've got this."

  "I can help," Hilly offered.

  I remembered that Wally had been stabbed twice and tossed in a dumpster. "No, we've got it." Besides, a thought occurred to me, and I wanted to talk to Kelly alone before I talked to Hilly alone.

  "Hey," I said casually as I cut through the half sheet cake. "Is Riley working on something?"

  Riley had told Soo Jin at the crime scene that he was there because of a case. Surely Kelly could tell me what was going on.

  Kelly handed me a stack of plates and a spatula. "Yes, he is. I'm not sure what it is though. I've been off for a few days."

  This got my attention. Kelly had been an emergency room nurse for years. When she became burned out, I blackmailed Riley into hiring her as a researcher. She very rarely took time off.

  "What's going on?" I asked. Kelly loved the new job. She wouldn't take time off unless something was up.

  "Nothing, really." She smiled. "I've been checking out preschools for Finn."

  Finn was Kelly's toddler. She was named after me, her godmother. I felt a little guilty that I hadn't seen her in a while.

  "She's old enough for preschool?" I put thirteen plates of cake on a large tray and added plastic forks.

  "In a year," Kelly said. "I just want to see what we have here in town. And it's been a busy summer, so I thought I'd take a break."

  I guess that sounded fair. "When will you go back?" And spy on Riley for me?

  "Probably tomorrow. Once I get settled in, I'll pass on any intel." Kelly winked at me.

  Hilly had herded the girls into the backyard, and we handed out the plates. I sat next to Hilly on the grass and wolfed down my cake. Betty had eaten only the frosting off hers and offered me her cake,
which I eagerly accepted. My stomach started to settle down, and I felt more like myself.

  "By the way," I said to Hilly. "I still need to talk to you. But alone, okay?"

  "Sure," Hilly said.

  "And did you know," I added, "that Bitsy is in town?"

  She looked at me curiously. "Bitsy? Chechnya Bitsy?"

  Now, that was interesting. Unless I missed my guess, Hilly didn't seem to take the news well. Now what was that about?

  "I think she's staying at Riley's." I kept my tone casual. Getting intel out of a normal person was easy. Dragging it out of a CIA assassin/not assassin would be more of a challenge.

  Hilly blew a breath out. "I'm not surprised. In fact, I should've seen this coming."

  Or not much of a challenge at all…

  "Tell me what's going on," I insisted. Perhaps I was about to get some answers.

  Hilly nodded, but just then the girls got up and declared that we were going to now have races, and we were the timers. And while it was always a good idea to have some activity after eating all that sugar, I wondered why couldn't I just get through one lousy shakedown?

  We went around to the front, where the girls decided to run up to their school at the end of the block from my house at the other end of the block. They had decided on two races of five each. The four Kaitlyns and Hannah went first.

  "Go!" I shouted, and the girls took off running.

  "Why did you say that about Bitsy?" I asked Hilly as we watched the kids touch the school sign and run back toward us. One of the Kaitlyns had a huge lead ahead of the others.

  Instead of answering my question, Hilly stared at the girl. "Kaitlyn's a sprinter. Sprinters are scary."

  That caught me off guard. "Sprinters are scary?" To Hilly?

  She rolled her eyes. "Of course. Are you more afraid of an axe murderer who can sprint or an axe murderer distance runner who takes time to set a pace?"

  She had a point. I looked at Kaitlyn with new interest.

  The girls finished the race with Hannah in second place and the remaining three Kaitlyns crossing the imaginary line on the sidewalk where the race allegedly ended, simultaneously.

  Betty, Lauren, Inez, Caterina, and Ava took their places right away. The five of them looked at me as if they were waiting for something.

 

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