Bones and Drones

by K A Goodsell

She was wearing my jacket.

  “I know you’re looking at this coat. I completely forgot it was yours after I borrowed it last year.” She looked up at me quickly and winced. We switched clothing a lot even though she’s slightly thinner than I am. Well, she borrowed mine more than I borrowed hers. But I had a few pairs of her boots and Converse in my closet I wore occasionally, so I supposed it was a fair trade.

  It was fifty-five degrees, and she was wearing my corduroy bomber jacket over a black T-shirt that said, “Basic Witches” and dark jeans. Her skin glowed with a vibrant tan which she said was simpler for her to achieve since she’s biracial. I could go to the beach for a month and only come back a shade of crimson. There was a fine line between me being tan and looking like I just rolled in spicy Doritos. That was also a German influence in my case.

  “I figured it was mine. Mr. Darcy gave it away.”

  “You and Mr. Darcy.” She smiled, knowing he’s my favorite fictional character and put the phone in her back pocket. “I don’t see any news from the sheriff’s station that there was a death, so I’m not sure what’s going on.”

  Raimy got text messages from Elgort when there had been deaths, crimes, or other reports that come through the sheriff’s office. She usually heard about events faster than anyone in the town because of her inside communication system. She even paid the sheriff’s secretary and janitor for inside scoops. Being the youngest person at the Pine Grove Journal didn’t mean a thing when she was the journalist who had the earliest news and also wrote all the obituaries for the town through my mother’s business. So maybe the “urgent news” from my mother wasn’t death-related.

  Raimy’s phone dinged again, and she looked at the screen and laughed. But she didn’t share with me what was so funny; instead she kept laughing and said, “So funny” at least twice as if I knew what the joke was.

  I laughed awkwardly and then stepped closer to her to get a glance at her phone. It wasn’t Elgort texting her; it was Nat. Seriously? Let me just barf. Nat took hold of Raimy when she came back last summer from visiting her father in Colorado with highlights and a tan, miraculously out of her “awkward phase.” My brother had fallen first for her dark hair, which was her go-to flirting charm, and then her brains when she constantly outwitted him with jokes and proved that she knew all about his favorite chefs and his secret desire to host a cooking show one day. I was happy for them, but not so much when I had to put on my headphones to drown them out during a make-out session when my parents weren’t home.

  “I’m having problems with a guy,” I blurt out, looking between John Doe and Raimy.

  “Like ‘his dead body won’t fit in this bag’ kind of problem, or ‘you like him’ problem? Either way, I’m intrigued. It’s been a while since we’ve had a good dish.” She put her phone back into her pocket. “Wait, is that the urgent news?”

  Ladies and gentlemen, my best friend.

  “No. I have no idea what that’s about.”

  “Okay, normally I like my gossip over a cup of joe, but I’ll bite on this one.” Raimy’s brown eyes lit up whenever I told her I wanted to have “girl talk.” She fed off of gossip to keep her skin so perfect, like a fairytale witch feeding off the souls of children to stay young.

  I rolled my eyes at her. “I’ll buy you a cup at the Railroad Diner later. This is about someone we both know.”

  I picked at my shoelaces and wondered if she’d be upset that I hadn’t told her about Elgort all summer. Or maybe she’d be relieved that it was the reason I hadn’t been answering her phone calls sometimes, rather than blowing her off to hang out with someone else. Well, that was kind of what I’d been doing, but it was different, right?

  As I looked back up at her, I noticed a car pull into my driveway hastily. I recognized the mayor’s black car by the reelection magnets—and the window decal with his face on it.

  “I’m wondering if that’s what is quote-unquote urgent.” I pointed over Raimy’s shoulder toward the house. She whipped around faster than I could spin slipping on ice.

  We watched as the driver’s door opened and the mayor practically stumbled out of the car, slamming the door shut and patting down his suit before nearly jogging to the front door. A cell phone rang somewhere in his jacket, the sound fading as he disappeared from our sight.

  “Was that the mayor?” Raimy hissed with interest.

  “Yup, and he was really hustling into the house. That usually only means one thing.” I put the blanket back into my bag.

  “Mayhem?” She meant Maynard, but I liked that.

  “Doesn’t he owe you a letter of recommendation?” she asked.

  “Yeah, he does,” I told her, my brows furrowed. What could the mayor possibly want on a Saturday? It was my dad’s day off.

  I knew why he normally came running. “Usually it means he messed up something, and he needs someone to save him.” I folded down my bag’s flap and threw the strap over my shoulder. “Can you grab John?”

  Raimy looked at me quizzically. “Who’s John?”

  I nodded toward the skull on the gravestone, and she grimaced. “I’m not even going to ask. You owe me two coffees now.”

  “A double. Got it.” We took off at a run toward the house. “You may not need it after this conversation, though. It may be like a metaphorical espresso via IV.”

  Mayor Maynard handed my mother his jacket in the entranceway and over-enunciated every word as if he was preaching to a church assembly or trying to get votes in the town square rather than standing in front of my parents, who looked concerned.

  “Good morning, Grimes family,” he boomed as my father asked Mitzy to leave the kitchen. “I hope you all are having a fine weekend.”

  “We are,” my mother said, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “It’s nice to see you, Mark.”

  “You, as well.” He told her as he shook my father’s hand. My parents were big financial supporters of Mayor Maynard. His appreciation was clear, but I wasn’t sure why they continued to kiss his feet like he was a king. He was a joker. Town media had caught plenty of his errors, and the school’s gazette had even published an opinion piece on why he wasn’t the right person to hold the position. Yet since we were in such a small town, many people overlooked the “errors” he made, as it would be too much trouble to replace him. He’d been in office for almost ten years, following his father and grandfather.

  I slipped in past my mother, quickly shaking off my shoes, and Raimy followed behind me, closing the door. Leaving on our coats, we trailed my mother and the mayor into the kitchen.

  The house still smelled like pancakes. Normally my mother would light a candle after she cleaned up breakfast to make it seem like no one had been in the room. She was one of those people who needed the house to be spotless at all times in the public areas. Maybe that was a funeral home thing, but we weren’t even allowed to help clean up dishes after dinner. Raimy’s younger brother, Radar, tried to help one night he was having dinner and hanging out with Mitzy. Didn’t go well.

  Anger rose in me toward the mayor, the source of most of my stress within the last few weeks. We made eye contact. “Good morning,” I said coolly.

  The major chuckled nervously. “Paislee! So good to see you! Have you gotten the letter yet?”

  I shook my head, narrowing my eyes. I hope it felt like daggers.

  “I’m not sure why you haven’t! You should get it soon.”

  I turned around, rolling my eyes. He was lying and trying to make things less awkward.

  “You come here to upset my family, Mark, or what can we do for you?” my father inquired.

  “Maybe someone else didn’t get a recommendation later than promised?” I stepped toward the island again, eyeing the stool. The floor creaked below me and sang a song of my soul as everyone looked at me. I wished I could pull back the snarky question.

  “It’s on its way, Ms. Grimes.” Mayor Maynard awkwardly leaned on the island was about a foot too short to be comfortable. But he
committed and didn’t want to falter.

  “It’s on its way” my butt. There’s no way. It’s been way too long for it have been “on its way” unless someone lost it in the mail.

  Mayor Maynard stood up tall and pointed toward my father, smiling. “Actually, I’m here because there has been a murder.”

  He said it almost like a murder-mystery dinner-theatre actor, with dread and excitement all at the same time.

  “Murder?” my mother asked, nearly spitting out a sip of her coffee. “I’m sure someone just died, Mark.”

  Raimy slapped my arm with the back of her hand, smiling.

  “Why are you smiling?” I whispered to her.

  The room fell silent, and I looked around to realize everyone had heard me. Raimy could not have cared less, and had already typed a note on her phone and recording the conversation.

  My father folded the newspaper he was holding and placed it under his arm against his side. “Mark, we’ve been through this. We don’t know if it was a murder until I examine the body.”

  “Oh, it’s a murder, all right.” Mayor Maynard shifted against the island, still trying to get comfortable, until he gave up and stood straight once again. He looked like a kid who had found buried treasure, and when he turned toward us, his look dramatically changed to aggression. He shoved his hand over Raimy’s phone but realized his gesture and softened his expression into a forced smile. “No press, please.”

  “Oh, come on,” Raimy cooed. “You know I will find out about it one way or the other.”

  “Respectfully, I don’t want you to write about this one. But I will need you to write an obituary.” His face fell at the mention. It had to be someone he was close to, I noted, as it had been real emotion that shone for a moment through his polished campaign persona.

  Raimy and I looked at each other for confirmation we had both seen that reaction.

  “I’ll get my coat,” my father said. “I know you just got here, Mark, but if this is truly a murder in Pine Grove, I’ll be shocked. We haven’t had one in our town for almost forty years.”

  “Oh, right,” Mark mused. “I remember hearing about that one. Twas a nasty one.”

  “What—” I started, only to be cut off by Raimy.

  “—Two men were in a tussle over a woman, until one guy ran the other one over with his truck.”

  My mouth fell open for a moment, trying to picture the scene. “There’s no way there’s a murder in Pine Grove. Nothing ever happens here.”

  “Where is the body?” my father asked as he put on his coat.

  “Driftwood lake,” Mayor Mark said blankly.

  The lake.

  I froze, turning to Raimy. “At the lake? Nothing was going on at the lake last night.”

  My mother folded her arms. “How would you know that?” Crap. I shouldn’t have said anything. The lake was off limits after dark in our family.

  “I was at the lake last night with Elgort,” I admitted, grimacing. Her eyes narrowed. Now those were daggers. “We were just—”

  “What were you doing there?” my mother spoke over me.

  “We were arguing—well, more like having an intense but adult conversation.”

  Raimy rolled her eyes. She was used to Elgort and my arguments blowing up. Whenever we made up, he blamed his behavior on the fact he’s a quarter Italian, and I blame the fact that my family never wanted me to have relationships with guys, so I only knew how to communicate with my older brother.

  “He kept ignoring me and the entire conversation altogether,” I went on. “I left the dock and didn’t even look back.”

  “We need to talk about this later.” My mother shook her head and then looked over at my father to back her up.

  Mayor Mark cleared his throat to break the icy tension. “I’d like Paislee to come along, as well.”

  Everyone turned even Mitzy, who had sneaked back into the room and was pointing at me. “Her?”

  “Mitzy,” my mother scolded and pointed toward the hallway. My sister took off back to the living room.

  Raimy slapped my arm again with the back of her hand in excitement. She’d have an inside scoop.

  “I’m not doing another case until I get my recommendation letter on the last hundred cases I’ve helped this town out with,” I hissed at her.

  “Paislee,” my mother scolded, at me this time. “What is wrong with you two today? Moody and broody.”

  “Okay, why me?” I pointed at my chest, like a child. At this moment, I felt like a child. Like I had been called on by the teacher but wasn’t prepared to answer the question. My palms sweating.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s appropriate,” my mother said bluntly, putting her hand on my shoulder.

  “She’s been to the morgue before. It’s just like her going to the funeral home,” my father reminded her and looked to the mayor. “Why do you want her to tag along?”

  “The body,” he said, looking between my father and me, “was clutching a small, black notebook. All of it was blank except the first page which had a sentence written in it.” He paused, considering.

  “What did the notebook look like?” my mother’s voice perked up, curious about the details suddenly.

  “Was just a plain black notebook. Nothing special about it.”

  “Okay, I’ll beg since all of us are thinking it, but no one is asking,” I said, throwing my hands up sarcastically. “What did it say? The sentence.”

  “Oh!” Mayor Mark laughed. “That may help, won’t it?” He stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “I had one of your team write it down for me, Max.” He handed my father the paper and he unfolded it, read it, and then looked directly at me over his glasses.

  A smile crept across his face. “Maybe this is actually a case not involving bones you can assist in, after all.”

  I took the piece of paper from my father’s hands and read the sentence:

  This is to avenge the death of my ancestor, Daniel Lockwood

  As we drove through the thinning roadways toward the lake, I tried to concentrate on the trees. The reds, yellows and oranges blurred together as they passed, and it made me feel more relaxed than I expected. The beauty was enough to make me forget about my worries. For now, at least.

  When the trees got too boring, I tried to concentrate on the houses. They were all small in the neighborhood. One of my favorites whizzed by in a blur of blue siding.

  My worry came back when the houses stopped.

  It wasn’t as if I’d never helped my father with cases. I always did when called upon. But it was the first time that the mayor invited me to see a case from start to finish, instead of what was in the morgue, and been able to accept the offer.

  If someone was murdered at the lake last night, it had to have happened before or after Elgort and I were at the dock. We would have heard something, anything. It was one of the quietest nights I’d ever experienced at the lake.

  A million questions whirled around in my mind, and I couldn’t answer any of them. Not yet, but hopefully I could once we reached the scene.

  I didn’t realize that my knee was bouncing until my father nodded toward me. A nervous tick, most of the time I didn’t even realize I was doing it until someone pointed it out.

  “Who do you think it is?” I asked.

  My father was silent for a moment, then said, “It could be anyone. I’m not sure.”

  It was the first time in a while I’d seen him respond in such a docile way.

  “Did it happen at the campsite at the lake or in the lake itself?”

  “My guess is the campsite or parking area.” My father kept his line of sight out towards the road. I noticed his knuckles were turning white as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. He looked over at me, a small smile creeping onto his face. “Ready for this?” he asked, trying to keep things light.

  “Are we ever?” I sighed. I wanted to be ready. I had wanted this for so long, to actually go to a scene, but
these circumstances were, well, less than ideal. I rested my forehead on the window, wanting to get lost in the scenery.

  After minutes that felt like hours, we pulled onto a dirt path.

  My father slowed the truck as we drove up the trail towards the eastern side of Driftwood Lake’s beach. Multiple flashing emergency lights lit up the tree line, and as we turned the corner, a deputy posted at the edge of the parking entrance.

  Some of the sheriff’s team looked concerned, while others looked unfazed as they sipped steaming coffee and leaned against their cars. It had been a while since something like this had happened in Pine Grove, but you could tell the rookies from the elders.

  A deputy walked up to my father’s window, greeting him.

  “Morning, Max, how’s has your weekend been?” the deputy asked.

  “Well, pretty normal until a little while ago,” he said with a sigh. “Everyone set up?”

  The deputy nodded. “Just waiting on you, sir.” He crouched down a little, seeming to notice me for the first time. “Your daughter is with you today? How’s it going, Paislee?”

  I realized it was Tag, Raimy’s older brother. I hadn’t recognized him at first. “Good, how about you?”

  “Another day, another dollar,” Tag said, leaning on the mirror.

  “Paislee’s coming with me down to the body. The mayor approved it.”

  “You sure you don’t want someone to stay back here with her while you go examine it?” Tag asked, unsure.

  I met his eye. “I was cleared to help.”

  Tag smiled apologetically. “I understand that, but—”

  My father put his hand out toward Tag wanting to get on with it. “I’m sure, but thank you for the offer. She’s my best asset. Plus, she’s been doing some research on the ancestors of Pine Grove, which may help with this case.”

  Tag nodded, not completely sold on the idea but letting it go. He said his farewell and motioned for us to go ahead.

  “He just sees me as the kid who runs around with his sister,” I huffed.

  “So do I sometimes,” my father agreed with a glance my way as we pulled in to a parking spot. “It’s hard to let go of the idea you aren’t a kid anymore. It’ll take time for everyone.”