by K A Goodsell
“Yes, Chief.” Tag opened the door and a moment later was beeped into the interrogation room.
The chief handed him a pen from his pocket and another sheet of paper from the table. Tag leaned over, hesitated for a moment, and then wrote the same sentence.
“Thank you,” Chief O’Moore told him, and Tag backed up from the table. “Please, Velma. Everyone.”
Velma looked at him for a long moment and then picked up the pen in front of her. She carefully wrote the sentence, but her pen wasn’t working. She shook the pen and then looked up at the chief. Tag pulled her own sparkly pen out of his pocket and offered it to her.
“I figured you’d like your pen,” Tag said.
I stood up from my seat and pointed at Tag. “He grabbed her pen from her office.” I smiled at the group. “He’s going to see if it smudges. Such a cool move.”
“This is like an episode of CSI,” Raimy gushed. “Who knew this would happen in Pine Grove?”
“Someone died,” Gage reminded everyone.
“This is still cool,” Raimy muttered quietly. “Well done, by the way, Grimes.”
I looked over at Raimy. Even though we’re best friends, it’s somewhat been an uphill battle lately because I’ve been so busy with helping my parents and I think I may have cold shouldered Raimy a bit too much. “Thanks, well done to you too.” The look between us cleared the air.
Velma looked between the pen and Tag, then snatched it out of his hand with a forced, “Thank you.”
She held the pen to the piece of paper under the spot where she’s tried to write the first sentence. As she placed the pen against the paper, it sparkled in the light. But it was missing one large crystal on the top, leaving an empty void.
“The crystal in Teddy’s ear!” I shrieked, pointing at Velma. “There’s no crystal on the top of her pen. It’s missing! Chance and I found a crystal inside Teddy’s ear at the funeral home!”
“What?” my father asked loudly. “You’re kidding.” With that, he darted off to get Chance.
I covered my mouth with my hands. I couldn’t believe it.
“Look, look!” Raimy shouted and slapped my arm with the back of her hand, pointing to the interrogation room.
Velma hesitantly moved the pen. When she got to the end, a smudge occurred. She swore under her breath and picked up the paper, crumpling it and throwing it to the ground.
Just like the piece of paper we found in the water.
“Sorry,” she apologized. “I’m not used to this ink yet. It’s new and doesn’t dry as quickly.”
She wrote again, and it smudged again as she dragged out the last letter of Lockwood.
The chief put his hand on top of hers. “Velma, you can stop now.”
Tag picked up the wrinkled piece of paper and put it on top of the metal desk.
“Can we go now?” Andre asked as a buzzer sounded from the opposite side of the interrogation room. Tag opened the door and in walks my father with Chance—with an evidence bag.
“Velma,” my father said with his out-stretched hand. “May I see your pen?”
She pursed her lips. “I don’t like other people touching my pen.” She looked up at Tag.
“Give him the pen, Velma.” The chief’s polite tone had vanished.
Velma allowed Tag to take the pen out of her hand without losing her connection with the chief’s eyes.
Chance took out the crystal from the evidence bag while Tag held the pen out for him. With one small drop, they saw the crystal fit perfectly in place.
The chief looked at them, incredulous. “What is this?”
“This gem was found inside Teddy’s ear while I was preparing him for his burial,” Chance started, folding up the evidence baggie and putting it back into his lab coat. “I was on my way to tell you about it after we found it. It was lodged inside his ear, so it did not come out during the move of the body or autopsy.” He looked toward the glass window and somehow was able to land directly upon me. “Paislee found it with a flashlight. She has a good eye for the details.” I felt my cheeks getting warm.
Velma’s glance moved suddenly from Chance to the window. Thankfully, she wasn’t looking in the right place for me.
“Oh, jeez.” Gage stood up from his seat and moved across the room.
I guess she had locked eyes with him.
“This pen and crystal are the perfect size for what killed Theodore. When I match the crystal up to full-scale photographs of the area behind the victim’s ear, it matched perfectly,” Chance declared. “The knife that was found within your hat, sir, even though it also has a sharp tip and had a hair upon it contained your own hair and was too large to be the weapon of choice.”
“Also, the smudge marks, and certain elements of your handwriting, match all the birthday letters that went out this month from the mayor’s office.”
“So, what? He hired me to do those from now on.”
“Well,” Tag began. He picked up the crumpled paper again and opened it. “This piece of paper, and the lovely smudge you have here, match the smudges on the birthday letters, as well as the smudge and handwriting on the note within the notebook that was found with Teddy at the scene.”
“We also found a crumpled-up piece of paper, just like so,” the chief said, pointing to the sheet in Tag’s hand, “with a spelling mistake and smudge hidden underneath a rock where we found the victim. The red ink stained the rock, and it was easy to find in the water. You didn’t pick a large enough rock to hide it underneath, Velma.”
It was red ink on the rock, not blood.
Andre moved his chair backwards. “You didn’t.”
“I want a lawyer,” Velma repeated, not making eye contact with Andre.
“How could you?” Andre stood up from the table, knocking his chair to the ground. Chief O’Moore approached him, telling him to calm down. “You kill—you killed him? Why?”
“I want a lawyer!” she shouted.
“Just tell me why!” Andre growled, his voice low but loud like a lion’s roar.
She shot up from her seat just as fast as Andre had, except she was two feet shorter. She looked up at him and waved her arms wildly. “Because he was a drunk. I went to the lake when he was there drinking by himself and he had already drunk at least five beers. He was drinking away his football scholarship and sleeping around. I told him he needed to stop, and he refused and drank another while I stood there. He called me a monster! Rebecca is the reason he got that way! For goodnes’s sake, she’s pregnant, Andre! You ruined him when you came into our lives. They were doing so well in my care for so long after their parents died. But you let him gallivant around!”
“I let them live their lives,” he said, shock flooding his face. “You treated them like they were on house arrest all the time. Their parents died, Vel. They needed a supporter, not a dictator.”
“That’s enough,” Tag said as Velma cried. “Please put your hands behind your back.”
“All I ever wanted was for them to succeed.” She sobbed. “But you ruined that. You ruined everything.”
“No,” the chief cut in. “You did that when you killed your nephew. Get her out of here.”
Tag finished cuffing her, and my father opened the door for him to escort her away.
“One last thing,” Chief O’Moore said as they stepped through the door. “Why did you write what you wrote on the notebook? Why the notebook?”
“You need to ask the mayor that question.”
The chief’s face remained stony as he nodded for Tag to take her away.
Velma continued to scream down the hallway it was all Andre’s fault. As she passed the viewing door, I could hear her kicking and Tag telling her to stop, that she was just making it worse for herself.
The room fell silent as everyone took in the scene. Even though we had just found the killer, a family was destroyed.
The metal felt cool against my palm as I tapped the top of my Beetle, happy to have her back in the driveway from
the sheriff’s office. It had been weird not having a car and relying on other people. Then again, maybe I should do that more often and ask for help when I’m overwhelmed—or when I could just use a little help. If this process taught me anything, it was that I shouldn’t feel like a burden to ask for help and work with people.
I look over at my parents, who were standing on the opposite side of the Beetle. “You ever name her?” my father asked as he walked around the car to check for damage. He bought the car with me half-and-half with my earnings from working alongside him when I was sixteen. Did I drive her a lot? No. Did I keep her clean all the time? Also no. But I was always careful with her.
“Shadow,” I told him. He stood up from his crouch and squinted. “Because she’s like my shadow. She’s quiet, she’s sturdy, and she’s always where I leave her.”
He nodded. “Yeah, she’s not that quiet. We know when you drive her late at night when you’re not supposed to.”
My face flushed. “Okay, maybe I’ll pick a new name then?”
“How about Rosie?” my mother chimed in. “You can do anything you put your mind to, Pais, just like Rosie the Riveter.”
I liked that. “Done. Rosie it is.”
She walked over to me and gave me a side hug. “Now, here’s the newspaper. Enjoy your five minutes of fame, but this is a reminder you still have chores and need to walk Todd.” She kissed me on the cheek.
In my next life, I hoped to come back as a basset hound. What an awesome life to sleep all the time, you’re so close to the ground that peeing and eating is super easy, and since you always look so tired, you’re considered the cutest dog that ever lived.
Prime life.
“Get back to work,” my father said. “John Does don’t solve themselves.” I’d known it was coming. They walked away as I tapped the hood of the Beetle once more before walking toward Center Cemetery.
The daily newspaper felt lighter in my hands, as we hadn’t had too much news this week other than the murder of Theodore Barton. Most stores and even schools were closed, so the news ran light with the weather, want-ads for vendors for the upcoming Harvest Festival and now a large front-page article covering the murder.
A large photograph of Velma being lowered into a police car to take her to Candlewood Village, where they would hold her until her trial, was pasted across almost half of the front page, followed by a hefty article explaining exactly what had happened. We didn’t sugar-coat the tough stuff in our small town. It would get out anyway. Plus, the journalist who wrote this would never do that.
There was her byline: Raimy Morrow.
I held out the paper and read it to residents of Center Cemetery. “‘Murderer Caught Red-Inked.’ Such a clever title.”
“Don’t ruin it for some people.” Raimy’s voice shushed me. “Maybe your homegirl Sarah wants to read it someday.”
Both of us paused as I spotted her over my shoulder. I smiled back at her as she approached my side, and we look at Sarah’s gravestone together.
I wondered if Sarah had read any books, or if she could even read. As odd as that sounded, many people in the era had never learned, especially members of the working class. Children were often pulled from school to work for their families to bring in money, as every cent counted and often was hard to grasp.
“Sadly, I don’t know if that’s a possibility for Sarah,” I told Raimy. I waved the newspaper at her. “This article is your best one yet, and Teddy’s obituary—very nice. Did Rebecca finally agree to meet?”
“I apologized to her and bought her about four cups of coffee before she would finally talk to me again. I realized that you were right and that I needed to calm down when it comes to being a journalist sometimes. I can still get the scoop without being so up in people’s faces. You know?”
“I’m proud of you,” I told her. I really was.
“I’m proud of you,” she replied and grabbed my arm, looping hers through mine. “I think you’re going to find Daniel Lockwood, and you will kick the mayor’s ass out of the water with everything. You’ve already solved a crime this week. You’re on fire!”
“It’s been an intense week, huh?”
“All you need to do now is find a dead guy who probably isn’t even buried in our town with barely any evidence he even existed. Piece of cake,” She said matter-of-factly, and I could tell she was mocking me good-naturedly. “Also, that skull in your bedroom? I went up there first looking for you. It was staring at me.”
“Yeah, I need to do that, too. My dad’s been preoccupied with this case so he kind of mentioned it earlier and I know it was a dig.” I looked around the cemetery, feeling slightly overwhelmed. “When I figure out where Daniel Lockwood is, it will be a glorious day.”
I opened my saddlebag and pulled John Doe out, tucking gently him on top of Sarah’s gravestone.
“Any idea what Velma meant yesterday when she said the chief should talk to the mayor about the note about Daniel Lockwood?” Raimy walked around the opposite side of Sarah’s gravestone and lightly patted John on the head. “It almost sounded like she insinuated that the mayor was in on it, too.”
I nodded. “I got that vibe, too. I haven’t heard anything from my father about it yet. Until then, I will keep looking for Daniel Lockwood. I really need that recommendation letter.”
“Talk with Gage. Maybe he can work out something with that Lee guy to write you one.” Raimy shrugged. That “Lee guy” was Dr. Henry Lee, one of the world’s top forensics scientists. I doubted it.
“It’ll work out. Always does somehow. Or I’m just screwed. We’ll see.”
“I don’t think you’re screwed.”
We turned around to see Elgort maybe ten feet from us. Raimy released her grip. “I’ll see you later. Gage is treating us to the diner tonight. Six?”
I nodded back at her and then watched as she walked past Elgort, smiling up at him and patting him on the chest.
He steps toward me. It was weird being allowed to be near him again. I didn’t know if I like it or not because now we had to talk.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hey. Telling Sarah all your secrets?”
“Always,” I said, smiling up at him. “I never thought you—”
“I know,” he cut in.
“And I’m sorry about the other night at the dock—”
“I know,” said again with a laugh. “Look, I really care about you. But I understand. I think taking some time to reflect is a good idea.”
I nodded.
It’ was weird when to hear it come from his mouth and not my own. It hurt more that the feeling was mutual, but I thought it was for the best.
“I think what you did this week was really amazing,” he said, looking around the cemetery. “And I think they would all agree.”
I laughed. “If the dead could talk.”
“I think they speak a lot more than you think.”
I gazed around the cemetery before landing on Sarah.
“Yeah, you’re right. I think they do, too. They just need to find their voice.”
Maybe that voice was me.
Releasing Fall 2019
The sequel to Bones & Drones
Order here.
Brooms & Tombs Blurb
Halloween is only fun when the dead are just pretending…
Paislee Grimes’s quaint Connecticut town doesn’t mess around when it comes to holidays—and her family takes Halloween even more seriously than most.
But this year, something is very wrong on their once-quiet streets. Bodies are piling up, and Paislee is desperate to piece together clues that point to a killer with a connection to a recent not-quite-solved murder—and a connection to Paislee herself.
Time is running out as the killer drags more Pine Grove residents into a twisted game, and the cryptic pieces of this dark puzzle seem to be circling closer and closer to Paislee and her friends.
But no one threatens the town Paislee loves and gets away with it—and she and her
friends won’t rest until the corpses are purely decorative.
This time, it’s personal.
K.A. Goodsell is a Data & Revenue Analyst for a hospitality management company, a Disney lover, runner, a (beginner) minimalist, and someone who just loves to eat as many cinnamon buns as her body allows her.
She graduated from Western Connecticut State University with a degree in Anthropology/Sociology where she wrote her thesis on the historical importance of gravestone studies, presenting her findings during a TED talk in September 2018.
Happily married and the fur-mother to a siamese cat, she resides in Connecticut.
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