by Tamara Woods
Of course it can compete, Isa thought stubbornly. This place is an institution. She thought back to the letter from the landlord. They better compete anyway. Otherwise her aunt was sunk.
The door creaked open. "Hey baby girl, how are things back here?" Her aunt sashayed in wearing a caftan with Mountaineer colors blue and gold and a matching hair scarf, of course. "Well dang girl, you've been busy!" She looked around, her eyes huge.
Isa felt a streak of uncertainty. "Do you like it? I needed to get things a little more organized so I could see the forest for the trees."
"Are you joking? You did a wonderful job." Her aunt grabbed her up in a close hug. "I haven't been able to stand to be in here for months. I felt overwhelmed."
"Hopefully now you just feel whelmed," Isa joked. Her aunt looked at her in confusion. "Nevermind."
Her aunt's eyes lit on Isa's laptop and her lips tightened. "Absolutely not. I do not abide by no computers and technology in my store."
"Auntie." Isa crossed her arms and turned to face off her aunt. She'd known sooner or later it would come to this.
"Isa. Marie. Cofindager." Her aunt mimicked her stance.
"If you want me to help you, you're going to have to give up a little control. If I have all your data in a program, I can figure out a little more quickly what's going on. I know you haven't changed your style of dress since the 70s, but you have to adapt some with your business model."
"Ma'am," she added hastily.
Her aunt relaxed her stance and shook her head. She slumped against the desk. "Business model? I just want to help people. And give them the tools to help themselves."
Isa sat at the other chair and put her hand on her aunt's.
"And that's wonderful. And you have helped people. And you will help people. But you need to help yourself a little bit." She squeezed her aunt's hand.
Her aunt looked down at their hands, staring at the Isa's ring. "When your Mama gave me that ring to give to you, she told me to wait until you were ready. A woman. She knew even then that you were going to be something special."
"She did?" Isa said, her voice husky.
Her aunt nodded, her smile misty. "Oh yes. She always knew her baby girl would be a bright, shining star. I know wherever she is, she's proud of you. Just like I am."
She sighed heavily. "I know you think I'm an old fool, trying to hold onto my old ways."
"No Auntie I—"
Aunt Maybel held up her hand and Isa subsided. "And maybe I am. Change is hard. And it's real hard when you've been doing things the way you want to for decades. But I want to have this shop more than I want to be stuck in my ways."
"You're going to be okay, Auntie."
"I hope so. Let's go on upstairs and have some dinner."
Isa startled. The workday had ended and she hadn't even realized.
WHEN ISA WAS CLEANING up the after dinner mess, her phone chimed with Baby Got Back. Clare had messaged her.
Clare: Have you heard the latest?
Isa: Nope, whatsup?
Clare: They have evidence against Travis.
Isa: What kind?
Clare: I better tell you face 2 face. Be there in 10.
Isa: Make it 20.
Clare: K.
Isa felt sick in her stomach. Evidence? What kind of evidence could they possibly have against him? A mistake maybe? He hadn't there, right? But what if was there earlier in the week? Could his DNA have been in there? She made quick work of the rest of the kitchen, trying not to think too hard, but she couldn't help herself.
As she was putting away the leftovers, there was a knock on the door, and then Clare let herself in. She took off her shoes and padded into the kitchen in her Sponge Bob socks.
"I need to get you some adult socks," Isa said after giving her a quick hug.
Clare looked down in confusion. "What d'you mean? These are adult-sized. I can't fit into kids socks anymore."
Isa shook her head. "Nevermind." No point in trying to change Clare now.
Her aunt walked in with an empty glass. Isa took it to fill it up as her aunt and best friend greeted each other.
Clare got into the fridge and grabbed a pop for herself and Isa. They all convened in the living room.
"All right, what's going on?" Aunt Maybel asked.
"How do you know something's going on?" Clare asked.
"Isa hasn't stopped spinning that daggon ring around since you textmailed her a little bit ago," she said in satisfaction. Isa stopped in mid-spin and folded her hands on her lap.
Clare chuckled. "Textmailed. That's a good one."
"What did I say?"
"Nothing Auntie. You're fine. But you're right, something is going on," Clare cleared her throat. "They've got real evidence against Travis. And it don't look good."
"What could they possibly have against him?" Isa asked.
"I can't reveal my sources, but they've found his blood in the area."
"Your sources are either Elsie Mae or Wesley, Clare. You ain't slick," Isa said.
Elsie Mae worked the front desk at the police department and did enjoy a gossiping sesh or two.
Clare pouted. "I'm a journalist, Isa. Respect my craft."
"All right, all right, your 'source'," Isa gave the word air quotes. "Told you about the blood. But how do they know it happened during the murder? Was it under his nails or something?"
She grimaced. "That I'm not too sure about. The source would only say so much. And it was off-the record. Of course."
That made sense. They wouldn't want the public to know any extra bits of information, that may or may not effect the investigation.
"This is getting us nowhere. We need more facts. I think I need to talk to Travis," Isa said.
"Do you think you can handle seeing him like that?" Auntie's voice was quiet. Isa looked down at her can of pop, like she could find the answer there.
She finally settled on, "I don't think I have a choice."
"There's another angle we've forgotten," Clare said.
Isa looked at her inquisitively.
"The woman and the man. Who was there at The Rec with Chad?"
"With no camera and no witness, I'm not sure how we'll figure out who those people were," Isa said.
The women talked a bit more with Clare trying to get Isa to let her take her to the jail. She didn't want to go along with it, but she decided that she could probably use the backup. This was a trip she was absolutely dreading.
"It'll be fine, you'll see. It's not like he's in the state pen or anything. He's just over there in town over being help until his trial," Clare tried to reassure her, but failed.
Soon, Clare was out the door, Auntie had retired to her bedroom, and Isa sat curled up on her favorite chair with Mad Maddie snoozing beside her.
The facts were few and far between. Right now, Travis's blood had been found on the scene, but they weren't sure where. When Travis had come to the house, she hadn't felt any malevolent energy coming from him that would indicate having done something so heinous to someone. Her auntie liked to call it the family gift, she preferred good old woman's intuition. It hadn't failed her before, so she was going to go with it.
She wasn't some big time investigator, but she did know one thing. Normally, there was a reason for a murder. Who had the motive to go beyond general dislike to actually killing one of the most disagreeable people in town?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE NEXT DAY, ISA'S workday had been a quiet one. She hadn't found out a path out of her aunt's financial difficulties, but she thought she might be making headway. After her day was done, she and Clare met up at Auntie's to start the next line of investigation. She'd settled into Clare's truck, grateful that it was warm in there. The day had a chilly cast to it. It felt like autumn had turned up.
"If we're going to get more info, you're going to have to dress better than that."
"What do you mean?" Isa looked down at her perfectly respectable tan slacks and over-sized navy cardigan over a
teal tank. She'd topped her outfit with a matching trench coat that tied in the front. Her heels peaked out from the bottom. She looked cute.
Clare shook her head, "If you're going to try to smooze some info, you need to be showing more leg or more cleavage. Preferably both."
Isa shook her head. How her best friend still found ways to surprise her, she'd never know.
"Do you have a notebook of 'Quotes to drive Isa crazy?' you refer to?" Isa asked as she checked her phone for messages.
"Never. That's not my style, home skillet." She crossed her arms over her chest and struck a pose. Isa rolled her eyes.
"Get out."
"We're in my truck."
"Then I'll get out."
"Too late, yo. I'm your ride or die."
"Ugh, I should've left you in the 90s."
Clare grinned and pulled out in a screech of tires, leaving tire marks behind.
They were on their way to the police station to find out more information about Chad's murder. Isa had watched the local news last night and the statement the police had released was sketchy at best. Clare hadn't faired much better on her end. In the statement, the police had said they were holding Travis, but of course didn't release specific information about the evidence.
Thinking about Chad, forced Isa to remember what he'd looked like and she swallowed thickly. She needed to concentrate on finding out more information and less about that horrible day. Even if he had been a jerk, he didn't deserve to be shot down in cold blood. He deserved justice. And justice wouldn't be served with the wrong man behind bars.
Travis had talked to her like she was his only hope. She felt obligated to help, even if she didn't really know what she was doing.
The sheriff's department was a town away in Westlake, a small community that was placed right beside of a large lake; one of the choice spots in the summertime with the mountain backdrop. Area kids met up there for shenanigans and families would go for a respite from paying hand over fist at county fairs and amusement parks.
As they drove, Clare was bumping some old school hip hop, while they rapped along and laughed, often forgetting chunks of the song and just mumbling along. Like old times.
"Remember the time when we got to the game and then it was rained out?" Isa asked. Getting a chance to go to a game had been a big deal for her back then.
"We ended up at the PotHole, looking like drowned rats," Clare laughed.
At the time, they were so bummed out. Like everything at that time, it had felt like the literal end of the world.
"But everybody ended up there, and we played the jukebox and danced until they kicked us out of there. We had the best time," Isa said with a smile.
All too soon, they pulled into parking lot at the sheriff's department that didn't look like a legal building other than the sign in front. Clare parked in the lot with Isa trying to gather her confidence. It felt like so much was riding on this moment. Hopefully, she was making it bigger than what it actually was.
Clare looked over at her friend and squeezed her shoulder. "Don't worry. We got this. Just take a few deep breaths and relax, alright?"
Isa took a few slow, deep breaths, gathering herself. She nodded decisively. "Alright, let's do this."
The inside the sheriff department was all dark woods and uncomfortable chairs. Elsie Mae at the front desk, was the woman in the know. She used to run track against Isa back in the day. They'd been mostly friendly and only sometimes real competitors. Out of everyone on the the field, Isa had actually liked the woman. If only she wasn't so depressing. Debbie Downer didn't had nothing on her.
"Hey Elsie Mae, how are you?" Isa asked.
Elsie Mae stood up and walked around her desk to give Isa a hug. She looked just like Isa remembered her, a red head with big green eyes and a dust of freckles on her nose. She'd always looked like a little pixie, until she'd put her hair in that high bun and left her competition in the dust.
Except for Isa, of course. Not to brag or anything...but...Isa had been the bomb.
"Isa! You look incredible! I guess you didn't have any kids then. I tell you what, my three sons just about ruined my figure."
She sounded like Isa remembered, too.
Isa made a production of stepping back and giving her the once over. "Three kids! Where? You look incredible Elise Mae."
"Elsie Mae Prickett now. I married Jonathan, remember him?"
Isa vaguely recalled a rather thin and serious boy who didn't say much, but had always been at the track meets. Now she knew why.
"That's wonderful!"
"It would be if he was ever home. He works for one of those Silicon Valley companies, and he's able to do it remotely. But he still has to take the time to leave the house and go out there every so often. Then I'm just left here with the kids. My Mama died a few years back and I don't have any family to help. And his family don't have the sense that God gave a billy goat, so they're just about useless. And you wouldn't believe—"
"Wow, cool story Elsie Mae, really interesting. Riveting, even," Clare interrupted. "But we kinda need to talk to you about something serious."
Elsie Mae looked at Clare with suspicion before her eyes cleared in recognition.
"Oh, it's you Clare Belle."
"Just Clare now."
"Whatever."
Elsie Mae cleared her throat and returned to chair behind her desk. "What can I do for you?" Her voice tone had changed and she sounded way too professional. Not the best sign, Isa thought.
"We came to talk about Travis Garris," she said.
Elsie Mae gave her a measured look. "Y'all used to date in the old days, didn't ya? Until he cheated on you with half the cheerleading squad. And you didn't even know about it. You musta felt like such a fool."
Isa took a moment to swallow slowly before she spoke. For whatever reason, Elsie Mae was feeling combative now and she wasn't going to give into that.
"It did hurt. It hurt a lot," she admitted. "But that's old news. Isn't he locked up here? I'd like to see him."
"You want me to let you see him?" Elsie Mae asked. "The sheriff said that other than his lawyer, he can't have any official visitors."
"How is that even legal? He doesn't have any priors or a history of violence. What type of evidence do they have against him anyway?" Isa asked.
"What does it matter to you, Isa? If I were you, I'd be happy that he was getting his just desserts served cold," Elsie Mae said.
Isa felt stymied. How could she get this woman on their side?
Elsie Mae cleared her throat again. "Well ladies. As you can see, I'm very busy. We've got a lot going on these days." She tapped her pen impatiently against the desk.
Isa looked around around. The entire place seemed empty and quiet. She couldn't even hear anyone on the phone.
"Aren't you the only person here?" Clare asked.
"That's besides the point," she said.
Isa took a seat at her desk and leaned for conspiratorially. "All right, here's the thing. Let's help each other."
"What do you mean? You trying to bribe me?" Elsie Mae leaned back, her eyes narrowed.
Isa shook her head. "No no no, never that. Let me level with you. I have to help Travis. Even if he did me dirty. It's the right thing to do. And I want to help you too."
"How are you going to do that?" Her face relaxed a little, but she still looked suspicious.
Isa followed her hunch. "When's the last time you and your husband got to have a night out together with no kids? Just the two of you?"
"Probably before I got pregnant."
Isa smiled beguilingly. "I just want to know what evidence they have against Travis. And we'll babysit your kids for you for one night."
"A weekend."
"A weekend?!" Clare's eyes widened so far, Isa thought they might pop out of her head.
"Friday and Saturday. You come home Sunday. And for that extra night, you gotta get us a copy of the incident report."
"I can't copy that and give it to
you. That's probably not legal," she said doubt starting to rush into her voice.
"Then don't make exact copies," Isa said. "Just read it and write down who called and reported it in. How did they find out there was a problem? What's the evidence? Have they decided a motive?"
She looked at them considering. "And you'll babysit the boys?"
Isa nodded and elbowed Clare, so she'd nod with her.
"Alright, I'll give you a call after I leave tonight and we can set things up. Y'all better leave before anybody comes back."
Before Isa knew it, they were headed back to Whisper Valley and Clare was giving her hell.
"What do you mean, volunteering us to babysit? I don't 'do' kids. And her kids are little monsters. There's three of them. THREE. THREE LITTLE MONSTERS."
Isa smiled beguilingly at her. "We're going to get the information we need. Isn't that what you wanted?"
"I would've preferred giving her money," she replied.
"Her husband is working for some company in Silicon Valley, who can afford to fly him back and forth frequently. Sounds like they're doing well financially. What they don't have is time to themselves. And that's where we come in."
"I have to admit, you executed that flawlessly," Clare admitted. "But I still am breaking up with you for messing up my weekend."
"I thought you were my ride or die?"
"Bite me."
BACK AT AUNTIE'S HOUSE, Mad Maddie greeted her at the door. He seemed to have the most chill disposition any cat had a right to have. Isa bent down to pick him up. He booped her on the nose. And she scritched under his chin.
"You're such a good boy. Give you scritches under your chin. Cutie cutie patootie," she said in a singsong voice.
"Isa! That cat is a menace! He ripped up the living room curtains, trying to climb up them! To get to what? I have no idea. I had to rescue him, he got up there and got scared," Auntie was shaking her finger at Isa like she'd found her on top of the curtain rod instead of Maddie.
"You did all that?" she asked, looking at the kitten in her arms. He cleaned his paw nonchalantly. "Unless you want to go back to Mr. Redding's house, you better calm down."