Firework Fiasco

by Kathi Daley

  “Nothing to talk about. I went out, had a good time, and ended up in the slammer. It happens. Now, about the bike…”

  “I’ll take you over to the impound lot to get it. But once we do, you and I and Zak are going to sit down to talk about whatever it is that’s causing you so much distress.”

  “I’m fine,” Nona grumbled.

  “No. You’re not. I’m worried about you. Zak is worried about you. We love you and want you to be okay.”

  “I’m not a child. I don’t need to be coddled.”

  I closed my eyes and counted to ten. “You’re not a child, but every now and then we all need to be coddled. Zak and I love you. Let us help you.”

  Nona bent her head but didn’t respond. I had the feeling she might be crying, but I knew overreacting wouldn’t be the best move, so I just waited. Eventually, she sat up straight, looking into the distance but seemingly resigned to my request.

  “Are you ready?” I asked.

  Nona nodded.

  “Okay. Let’s go get your Harley. After that I want you to go straight home. Take a shower. Get something to eat. Zak made muffins for breakfast. I think there are some left. I need to run to the Zoo for a couple of hours, but when I get home we’re going to sit down and figure this out.”

  “They still haven’t found his body, you know.”

  “Elvis #3’s?” I asked.

  Nona nodded. “The Elvises had an after-party down the beach from the event location. I decided to tag along to see if I could pick up any clues about what might have happened to him. Most of the other Elvises think he just changed his mind about the competition and took off. They think I either imagined the dead body in the bed or am making it up. They made it pretty clear they think I’m just some old woman who’s lost her mind. They want me to stop talking about it. They think a murder would be bad publicity for the contest. They want me to go about my business like it never happened.”

  “What about the jacket with the blood on it?” I asked. “That seems to prove you didn’t make the whole thing up.”

  “Not human.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean, not human?”

  “The deputy told me the blood on the blue sequin jacket wasn’t human. The crime scene guys are doing some additional tests, but they think it’s cow blood. The other Elvises think I got it from a butcher, poured it on the jacket, then tossed the jacket somewhere it would be found. They think this whole thing is a ploy to get attention. One of the Elvises went on and on about his own grandmother, who’s about as loony as they come, but at least she never tried to fake a murder.”

  “Okay, wait. You said you were passed out and when you came to, Elvis was dead. You said he was lying on the bed next to you with a knife in his chest. You said he was lying in a pool of blood. Did he have his jacket on?”

  Nona’s eyebrows furrowed. She twisted her lips and looked up toward her forehead. “I’m not sure. It was all kind of a blur. I was in shock. I wasn’t thinking. I just saw him and left. I went to get you and you know the rest.”

  “What if the whole thing was staged? What if Elvis wasn’t actually dead? What if he only wanted to make you think he was?”

  “Why on earth would he go to so much trouble?”

  “I have no idea.”

  ******

  The concept that Elvis had faked his own death began to take hold now that I knew the blood on his jacket wasn’t human. We still had no way of knowing if the blood on the bed was real, but Nona had said that she woke up, was disoriented, saw Elvis lying in a pool of blood with a knife in his chest, then fled. She hadn’t touched him or felt for a pulse. What if he had been faking, then cleaned everything up and took off as soon as Nona left the room?

  Of course, that theory was about as crazy as any was likely to be, but it had planted itself in my mind and I decided to take a day to really think about it. I’d told Aspen I’d be in to the Zoo for a while this morning so we could take care of any last-minute adoptions. Brothers Tank and Gunnar were taking over the care of the animals from the time the Zoo closed at noon on Saturday until nine o’clock on Monday morning, when it reopened for business, so unless there was an emergency of some sort I should have a day and a half with no work obligations.

  “We have three pickups this morning,” Aspen informed me. “All have been vetted. The files are on your desk if you’d like to take a look at them before they arrive. I also got a call about a dog neighbors say has been chained to a tree for the past three days. I can run over there to take a look if you want.”

  “Thanks, Aspen, but it might be better if you handle the adoptions while I respond to the animal cruelty call. Most of the folks in the area know who I am and are familiar with my link to animal rescue, while you’re still pretty new to the Zoo and the community. What’s the address?”

  Aspen rattled it off.

  I frowned. “That’s Mr. Trout’s house. I hope he’s okay. It’s not like him to leave his dog out for any length of time. I’d better go now. Call me if you have any questions when the new pet parents show up.”

  Barney Trout had lived in Ashton Falls at least as long as I had. He used to work at the post office but had retired. He owned his own home, where he lived with his Lab, Gus. Gus was friendly, like his owner, and loved to socialize, which meant Barney and Gus could be seen around town, talking to folks they met along the way, on most days of the week.

  The only problem with Gus was that he was a wanderer. This trait in and of itself might not have proven to be a challenge except that a portion of Barney’s fence had blown over a few years back, so Barney had taken to chaining Gus in the yard for short periods every day. It wasn’t like Barney to leave Gus in the yard for three days straight, however. I really hoped both dog and human were all right.

  The first thing I did when I arrived was check on Gus. It looked like his bowl had a self-watering feature attached to the sprinkler system, but there was no way to tell the last time he’d been fed. I went to the house and knocked on the door. “Barney? It’s me, Zoe Zimmerman. Are you home?” When there was no answer I knocked again. After several more knocks I tried the knob. It was unlocked.

  “Barney,” I called as I entered the house. Still no answer. “Are you home? It’s Zoe.” When there was still no answer I began searching the house room by room. I put a hand to my mouth when I found Barney lying on the floor of his bedroom. I hurried over to his side and felt for a pulse. He had one, but barely. I took out my phone and called 911.

  I looked around the room as I waited for the ambulance. There was a box of tissues plus a whole lot of over-the-counter medications. If I had to guess I’d say Barney had contracted the flu. Unfortunately, it appeared it had gotten the upper hand. Once the paramedics arrived and had transported Barney to the hospital, I went for Gus, who I decided to take home rather than to the Zoo. The poor guy was pretty shook up and he’d do better in a house with a family to take care of him.

  “Are we getting a new dog?” Scooter asked the minute I walked in with Gus.

  “No. This is Gus. We’ll just be taking care of him while his owner is in the hospital. I’d like you to take charge of walking and feeding him.”

  “You want me to foster him like Alex is fostering the kittens?” Scooter beamed.

  “Exactly. Can you do that?”

  Scooter nodded. “Come on, Gus. I’ll introduce you to Charlie, Digger, and Bella,” Scooter said, and took him off to meet our three family dogs.

  “Are you home from the Zoo already?” Alex joined me in the kitchen.

  “No, I need to go back. Did Nona make it home okay?”

  “Yes, and she went up to her room. Zak’s putting Catherine down for a nap and I was about to log on to the computer.”

  “I really should get back to the Zoo. Tell Zak I’ll be home in a couple of hours.”

  Alex took an apple from the bowl and took a large bite. “Zoe, is Nona okay? She didn’t look very good when she got home.”

  “She had a roug
h night. I don’t have all the details, but I thought Zak and I would sit her down and have a talk with her when I get home. In the meantime, if you need anything call or text me on my cell.”

  By the time I returned to the Zoo, Aspen had completed all the adoptions and was in the process of creating some notes for Tank and Gunner to refer to over the weekend. Between the two of us we’d been handling things just fine, but I’d still be glad when Jeremy got back from paternity leave and Tiffany got back from her honeymoon.

  “How was Mr. Trout?” Aspen asked.

  I filled her in.

  “I hope he’s going to be okay. Poor guy. It’s tough when you live alone and are sick or injured. There’s no one to help you out.”

  “Yeah.” I couldn’t help but think of Nona. She was staying with us for a few months, but during most of the year she lived alone. Maybe I’d talk to Zak about asking her to move in with us permanently.

  “We had an intake while you were out,” Aspen said. “Border collie who looks to be a year or two old. I’ve quarantined her until the veterinarian who’s filling in for Scott can look at her, but she appears to be healthy and well fed. She was picked up by a motorist on the highway. In my opinion she’s probably lost. I’m going to upload her photo to all the usual sites. If her owners are located I’ll have Tank or Gunnar call me. I’ll come down to take care of the paperwork so we can get her back to her people right away.”

  “Thanks, Aspen. I do hate it when pets are separated from their family. Other than helping Nona figure out exactly what’s going on with her Elvis dilemma, I’m around the rest of the afternoon. I’m planning to go sailing tomorrow, so I may not be reachable even by cell, although if you need me for anything you can leave a message and I’ll return it when I find a hot spot.”

  “I’m sure everything will be fine. Have fun on the water. It’s supposed to be warm and sunny all weekend. I heard we might even be looking at highs in the mid-eighties.”

  “I did hear there was going to be a warming trend. I’ll try to check in when I can.”

  Aspen waved me off. “Go. Enjoy your weekend. I’ll make sure things run smoothly here. You have nothing to worry about. I promise.”

  Chapter 9

  As soon as I got home I checked on all three kids and then went to find Zak. It was going to be important for us to present a united front when we spoke to Nona. She’d always been a handful, but she’d been even more unpredictable than usual the past few days.

  “Are you busy?” I asked Zak when I found him in the computer room working on a project.

  “Not really. Catherine was napping and the other two were occupied, so I decided to work on the new security software Zimmerman Industries hopes to unveil in the fall. Are you finished at the Zoo?”

  I nodded. “I’m home for the rest of the weekend. Is Nona still in her room?”

  “I think she may be napping. I guess spending the night in jail isn’t all that restful. I understand why Deputy Buckner took her in, but I can’t believe she didn’t call us to come get her.”

  “She might have been embarrassed, and I got the feeling she didn’t want to be a bother to us. I’m really worried about her.”

  Zak sighed. “Yeah, me too.”

  “I think the first thing we need to do is help her figure out what’s really going on with Elvis #3. I know we agreed to retire from sleuthing now that we have Catherine to think about, but I’m afraid Nona isn’t going to let this go until she figures out what really happened, and I don’t want her out there digging around on her own. I figure if we put our heads together we can solve this increasingly confusing puzzle.”

  “I agree,” Zak said. “In fact, I’ve already done some digging that I hope will provide us with a starting point.”

  I sat down on a chair next to Zak. “Great. What do you have?”

  He pulled up a screen that displayed the notes he’d assembled while I’d been at the Zoo. Calvin Jobs, aka Elvis #3, was forty-seven years old. He’d worked as an Elvis impersonator at one of the Las Vegas casinos for five years prior to quitting two years before. Over the course of the past two years, he’d traveled extensively. His most recent trip was to Monaco, where he was hired for a four-week stint to do impersonations for a cabaret show in one of the casinos. Before that he’d worked in other clubs and casinos in Italy and France.

  “Someone I spoke to mentioned that while Calvin seemed to have been working overseas the past two years, he flew back and forth between Europe and the United States on a regular basis.”

  “That’s correct. In fact, I was able to find evidence that he made transatlantic flights twelve times in the two-year period.”

  “That’s a lot of flying.”

  “It seems as if it would have made more sense for him to stay in Europe for longer periods, rather than do so much hopping back and forth, but there may have been a reason for his frequent returns to the States. Perhaps there was a woman involved. Someone he came back to spend time with every couple of months.”

  “Okay, so we know Calvin flew back and forth between Europe and the United States a lot. What else do we know?”

  “Based on what I could find in my initial search, his finances were in a bit of a mess. It appears he spent more traveling back and forth across the ocean than he made with his short-term jobs. Unless he has money stashed somewhere I haven’t found yet, the guy was flat broke.”

  “It seems crazy to travel so much if he couldn’t afford it. I feel like the traveling is a clue. It’s an anomaly that doesn’t make sense. Did he have money prior to quitting his job in Vegas?”

  “Not really,” Zak said. “Based on some of the money transfers I’ve been able to identify, I’m going to go out on a limb and say Calvin had a gambling problem. I’d also be willing to bet the reason he left the country in the first place had something to do with a gambling debt.”

  “You think he was running away from someone? Maybe someone he owed money to?”

  Zak shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe he went to Europe to complete some sort of a task that would help him pay off his debt.”

  “A task?”

  “Smuggling comes to mind. Or perhaps it had to do with access to the casinos where he had these jobs. I can’t be sure, but it makes sense to follow the money and see where it leads.”

  “Except he didn’t have any,” I pointed out.

  “He didn’t have any that I’ve been able to find. Yet. I’ll keep looking.”

  I sat back and considered the situation. I wasn’t sure if figuring out what Calvin had been up to in the months and weeks prior to his encounter with Nona would help us understand whether he was dead and if he was, who’d killed him, but it couldn’t hurt to have all the pieces of that puzzle. “I think you may be on to something with the smuggling idea. When I was at the beach the other day a man approached me, saying he was from the costume company who rented Calvin his costumes and wanting to collect them because he no longer needed them. I later learned Calvin had his own costumes that he had custom designed and made. What if he was using the jackets to smuggle something back and forth across the ocean? What if the man who approached me knew that and was looking for the costumes not for their value in and of themselves but for something hidden in the pockets or sewn in the lining?”

  “Something in a pocket or sewn into a lining would still come up in a scan,” Zak pointed out.

  I hesitated. “Maybe. Still, I think the costumes are going to turn out to be an important clue. When Calvin came back to the States did he have a home base to return to? Maybe an apartment he kept even though he was away so often?”

  “Not that I’ve been able to find. It appears he stayed in cheap motels when he was in the States. When he was overseas his accommodation was often provided by the casinos he worked for.”

  “It doesn’t make sense that he would have carted all his stuff back and forth. He must have had a storage shed at the very least.”

  Zak leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his
chest. “You make an interesting point. I’ll look for something like that. Although he could have kept his stuff in a friend’s garage for all we know. Still, looking for a storage shed makes sense.”

  I got up and began to walk around the room. I often found that pacing helped clear my mind, especially when I was filled with pent-up anxiety. “What it really comes down to is that one of three things is most likely true: Calvin is dead and someone really killed him, in which case we need to find and help apprehend the killer; or Calvin isn’t dead, and for reasons unbeknownst to us he staged his death and took off, which would mean we need to find him so we can prove it and move on; or Nona really is losing her mind and imagined the whole thing.”

  “I thought you believed me.”

  I cringed, turned, and saw Nona standing in the doorway. Talk about lousy timing. “I do believe you. Zak and I were just talking about all the options. Are you feeling better?”

  “Depends. Are you going to help me find Elvis’s killer?”

  “We are,” I answered decisively. “Zak has already started working on it. Come on in and we’ll catch you up.”

  Nona had a scowl on her face, but she came all the way into the room and took a chair. “I’m not crazy.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. Zak and I suspect Calvin might have staged his own death.”

  “Why would he do that?” Nona asked.

  “Maybe he was in some sort of trouble and needed to disappear,” Zak suggested.

  “So why involve me?” Nona asked. “Why the elaborate illusion?”

  “If Calvin wanted to fake his own death he’d need a witness,” I said. “It sort of makes sense in a sick, twisted way. He brings you to his room and drugs you so you pass out. Then he sets up the murder scene with a fake knife and fake blood. Once you see he’s dead you leave, at which time he cleans everything up and takes off for wherever he planned to hide out.”

  Nona crossed her arms and looked at me. “What if I hadn’t left? What if I stayed right there and called 911? What if I waited in the room until help arrived? That is, if you think about it, what any normal person would do.”