It's a Wonderful Knife

by Christine Wenger

  Finally I took a bite of pizza. Yum. “I have to agree with you, Antoinette Chloe. It doesn’t look good for Darlene. And it might account for those stacks of used pull tabs in the Robinsons’ apartment and the stack of unpaid bills on her desk. Bingo is supposed to pay for a lot of the church’s expenses.”

  “Skip down to Bing10. That would be the most recent one—from October.”

  But before I could, there was a loud knock on my window, and I jumped a foot in the air. “What on earth?”

  Through the heavy snow, I saw him standing there. Ty Brisco.

  “It’s Ty. Shoot!” I said to ACB. Then I rolled down the window. “Ty Brisco, are you stalking us?”

  He didn’t answer that, but I knew he was.

  He gave a sideways grin and that dimple of his made an appearance. “Why are you sitting in Antoinette Chloe’s van in the parking lot of the library in a blizzard? Has your car broken down? Do you need help?”

  “No. We’re just eating pizza,” ACB said, leaning over me. “Want a slice? It’s Cindy’s everything-but-the-kitchen-sink pizza.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” He opened the back door of the van and jumped in.

  I thought that ACB was just going to hand him a slice and he’d disappear so we could go back to looking at the Bing files.

  ACB handed him the pizza box. “It might be cold, although I had the heater on and the box on it.”

  He took the box. “Who didn’t touch their pizza?” He pointed to mine on the dash. “Too busy with your laptop, Trixie?”

  Geez, nothing gets by him.

  “Yeah, I wanted to look something up. Caribbean cruises. I’m sick and tired of this snowy weather,” I lied, pointing to the flakes falling outside. I didn’t think I was fooling him, though.

  “And you needed to do it here? Right now? You could have done it when you got home.”

  “Uh, it’d be too late, as I have to head the auditions at the church tonight.”

  “You could have looked it up on your laptop at work,” he said.

  He knew that this was my laptop because of the New York Giants stickers on it along with a couple of stickers that looked like bullet holes. Ray had given me those as a joke.

  I glanced at ACB and raised an eyebrow. She nodded. “Might as well give it to him, Trixie.”

  I might as well. I think we’d found out most of what was on Liz’s flash drive, anyway.

  Pulling out the little thing, I handed it to Ty. “I found this under Liz’s desk this morning. It was hidden under the desk with some masking tape. The tape stuck to my hair when I was under the desk picking up something.”

  He held out his hand, and I placed the drive on it.

  “I knew you two were up to something, and I was hoping that this would be found. Good work, Trixie, although I wish you would have given it to me right away, instead of snooping first.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “What’s on it?” he asked.

  “Articles from the Buffalo News. There’re about Darlene going to jail for stealing bingo money,” I said.

  ACB popped the top on another orange soda and handed it to Ty. “And there’s an article about Pastor Fritz and Darlene falling in love at Bedford Hills Correctional Facility. It’s so romantic!”

  “She was married before,” I added. “To someone named Dirk Osmond. But she was divorced before she was convicted of the crime.”

  “I know,” he said.

  “And there are some files called Bing.”

  He laughed. “As in Bing Crosby?”

  “That’s just what I said!” ACB snorted.

  I took another bite of pizza. “As in bingo. It seems that Liz might have found some discrepancies between the bingo receipts and the church’s overall earnings. She’d been tracking it all year. Up until the time she died. There’s no November entry.”

  “I’ll check it all out when I get back to headquarters,” he said.

  “Ty, do you think this flash drive is why Liz’s house was tossed?”

  “Yep. I think that’s a good guess.”

  ACB sighed. “Darlene Robinson needs a good swift kick in the butt from the Ghost of Christmas Past and the Ghost of Christmas Presents. And, since I’m the Ghost of Christmas Presents, she won’t be getting any presents from Santa or me.”

  “Ladies, you can’t let on that she’s a suspect. You need to carry on like nothing has happened. I can’t prove that Darlene killed Liz. I can’t prove that anyone killed Liz yet.”

  ACB shrugged. “But the money that’s missing from bingo—”

  “That’s theft, not murder,” he said. “It proves nothing.”

  “If you ask me, it all adds up,” I said. “But then I’m the one who was convinced that Margie Grace killed Liz. Now I don’t think so.”

  “Does Margie Grace work bingo here?” Ty asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said, “but Antoinette Chloe and I plan on attending the next bingo. I’d rather drag a loaded sleigh up Mount Crumpit, but I will be playing bingo, as I observe.”

  “Maybe I’ll do the same,” Ty said. “And I’ll bring the rest of the deputies.”

  “You mean you aren’t going to tell us to stay away?” I asked, amazed.

  “Would it do any good?” he asked.

  “Nope,” I said.

  “Then I’m going to save my breath. But don’t you let me catch you doing anything illegal or you know what I’ll have to do.”

  “Coal in our stockings?” ACB asked.

  “The electric chair,” he deadpanned.

  On that somber note, Ty took what was left of his pizza and his orange soda and went back to his car.

  “We had to give it to him,” I said out loud.

  “Of course,” ACB said. “But I still would have liked to look at the October files.”

  “It was probably more of the same as the rest of the Bings.”

  “Now what?” she asked.

  I slapped my forehead. “I could have downloaded or uploaded the flash drive to my laptop.”

  ACB let out a breath. “We’re lucky that you did as much as you did before Ty came.”

  That was my friend—always donning her gay apparel (or should I say donning her bright and shiny muumuus?) and looking for the bright side.

  • • •

  I had to remember what Ty told me. Not to let on that anything was wrong, and I reminded myself of that when I crutched back to the office.

  Darlene was in the office, at her desk, busily working on her laptop.

  “Hi, Trixie. Did you have a good lunch?”

  “I did. But we had to cut it short due to the weather.”

  “I hope the snow stops or we’ll have to cancel auditions tonight.”

  “That’ll put us even further behind,” I said. “But I wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt if this keeps up.”

  There was silence between us. I took off my one boot and coat and hung it up.

  “Um . . . uh . . .”

  “Yes, Darlene?”

  “I . . . uh . . . just want to apologize for saying all of those uncharitable things about Margie Grace earlier. It wasn’t nice of me at all,” she said.

  “You don’t owe me an apology, Darlene, but maybe you can make it up to Margie by seeking her out and talking to her on occasion.”

  “That’s a good idea. I’ll talk to her tomorrow night at bingo,” Darlene said.

  “Is she a volunteer?” I asked.

  “She is. She sells the bingo cards at the front desk.”

  Uh-oh . . . Margie touches money, but would she steal it? Maybe Liz had been watching Margie?

  Interesting . . .

  “Is there anything I can help you with, Darlene?”

  “No. It would take too long to show you, and you’ll be leaving us so
on.”

  “So, you’re not going to show me what you and Liz were working on? Getting all the handwritten ledgers on the computer?” I looked around. “Where are they all anyway?”

  She looked very uncomfortable, but she answered me anyway. “I think they’re in Fritz’s office. He was doing something with them.”

  “I see. Well, then I’ll just work on the church bulletin,” I said. “It’ll be pretty plain because I’m not able to do anything very fancy, but I do know how to insert pictures.”

  “That’ll be fine, Trixie,” she said. “Oh, here are some more announcements.”

  Darlene pushed away from her desk, but in her haste to get up, she dropped several papers, and they flew all over. Scrambling, she picked them up.

  When she finally handed them to me, she looked like she was about to burst into tears.

  I took her hand. “What on earth is wrong, Darlene? Can I help?”

  She let out a stifled sob, and her shoulders started shaking. I stood and hugged her close. “It can’t be all that bad, Darlene. It’s Christmas. Miracles happen.”

  “I need a miracle, Trixie. I really do.” She composed herself and pushed away from me gently. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

  “It’s no bother. No bother at all. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you.”

  “No one can help me.” She pulled out some tissues from a box on her desk. “I’m sorry, but I’m going upstairs. See you tonight, maybe.”

  “Sure. And if you need a shoulder . . .” I began.

  But she was already gone.

  • • •

  The blizzard subsided and the auditions went on.

  “Next up are Joey Faber and his twin brother, Joel Faber,” I announced. “They both want to be twin Cats in the Hat, but we are not going to have Cats in the Hat in the pageant. Would Joey and Joel’s parents like to choose another role for them from the list I’ve prepared?” I said loudly.

  “Well, I never heard of such a thing. No Cat in the Hat twins at a Christmas pageant?” said a woman with an electronic cigarette in her mouth. She must be Mrs. Faber.

  “They either pick something on the list, or they won’t be eligible to participate,” I said, using my no-nonsense voice. Then, I turned to the crowd of people sitting in the pews and milling about the aisles. “Everyone, please listen up . . . the parts that are available are on the list that I’ve prepared. Please see Antoinette Chloe for the list. Try out for one of those parts and you are in!”

  “And no whining if a part’s already been taken by someone else,” ACB added. “It’s Christmas.”

  “Nice touch,” I said.

  Margie Grace had gathered all the parents who wanted to be in the adult choir and took them in another room to practice their singing. ACB told me that she appointed Mr. Cam Pulaski to be the choir director. Cam was a music teacher at the high school.

  “Brilliant,” I said. “Now she can help with the children’s choir, too.”

  “She’s on it,” ACB reported.

  Then we got one adult to volunteer for each of the ten scenes that were in the pageant. That adult would oversee the players and make sure that the scene was polished and ready to be performed for dress rehearsal.

  “Delegation,” I said to ACB. “It’s the key to my survival.”

  “Don’t forget to enlist some help for putting up the scenery. You probably should ask Roger Southwick to chair that since he’s in charge of church maintenance,” ACB said. “And he’s sitting all alone in the second pew. I triple dog dare you!”

  There was a glaring breach of etiquette when ACB skipped over the double dog dare and went right to the triple.

  “Oh, all right!”

  So over I went to Roger. He watched me coming, and couldn’t be bothered to meet me halfway or acknowledge me until I was standing right in front of him.

  “Roger, would you mind accepting the chairperson job on the scenery committee? You are here and know where everything is. You’re perfect for the job.”

  He shrugged. “Guess so.”

  “Thank you so much. If you’d like to gather some men or women from the pews here, you could go to a corner somewhere and meet with them.”

  “I’ll do that,” he said like a sullen teenager who was just asked to clean their room for the hundredth time.

  “And, Roger?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Merry Christmas.”

  “Yeah. Whatever.”

  Margie, ACB, and I cast the Grinch scene—the one where he’s stealing everything from the Whos. The 911 operator, Fanny Fowler, was going to be Cindy Lou Who. And the children’s choir was going to sing the theme song.

  We also cast the A Christmas Story scene—the Red Ryder BB gun scene.

  And more of the same followed.

  ACB, as the Ghost of Christmas Presents, and I, as Tiny Tim, were going to do the scene where the Ghost takes Scrooge to Bob Cratchit’s house to watch them have a meal and toast him. Scrooge would be played by Ty. The Cratchits would be played by my mother and father.

  The Boca Babes were going to be Santa’s reindeer. Bob was a definite for Santa Claus. And Aunt Stella was a definite for Mrs. Claus.

  My waitresses insisted on a choir of their own, which was fine with me.

  “Is there anyone left who doesn’t have a part in this play?” I asked loudly. “Speak now.”

  The two boys whose mothers were fighting because they always played the part of a camel—front and back—were left. I decided to get them into the light. One was going to play a Who from Whoville. The other was going to be one of the Cratchit kids.

  At last count, I thought Bob Cratchit had a brood of twenty kids.

  I had everyone covered! I was done.

  “Dinner will be served in the community room,” I announced. “Please adjourn there and help yourself to some food. Rehearsals will begin before bingo with each group rehearsing on their own for now.”

  • • •

  By the time I got home, I was pooped. Information was whirling around in my brain like a tornado. All I wanted to do was sit in my recliner and not think about anything for a little while.

  As we drove down Route 3, I let out a yell of awe when my house came into sight.

  “Look at the Big House!”

  It was beautiful. The eaves of the huge farmhouse were outlined with white icicle lights and lights of every color outlined the windows. The pines and shrubs also had lights, and lighting up both sides of the sidewalk up to the door were red-and-white candy canes.

  “It’s so pretty!”

  The inside was exquisite, with more lights and decorations, but the tree was the most amazing. Colored lights twinkled, and a hand-painted manger set was under the tree. The tree had Polish glass ornaments sparkling from most every branch, courtesy of Aunt Stella, and glass candy canes were scattered on the tree.

  I sat down and just stared at the tree, trying to take everything in.

  I smiled, trying to offload all thoughts of Liz’s murder and replace them with Christmas magic, like the scent of pine emanating from a beautifully decorated tree and the glow of lights.

  “Antoinette Chloe, will you drive me to the Silver Bullet? I haven’t seen the decorations there yet. Besides, I’m in the mood for a roast beef club sandwich.”

  “Sounds good to me!”

  I hobbled down the stairs and the walkway and back into her van for the short drive up to the diner. I loved how each window was decorated with multicolored twinkle lights and how the candy cane theme from the Big House was continued there as well. There was a sign that read, SANTA, PLEASE STOP HERE! and big plastic ornaments hung from various pine trees, which were bright with white lights.

  It was just beautiful.

  Everyone shouted my name as I entered, and I stopped at every
booth and table to greet people. Then I went into the kitchen to see Cindy. She gave me a big hug, ever careful of my crutches.

  Then Antoinette Chloe and I took a booth in the back. When Bettylou came over, we ordered two roast beef clubs and two cups of split pea soup, hot tea, and two cherry hand pies.

  “I love the tree in here, too.” The overhead lights were dimmer than usual, and diners ate under the glow of all the colored lights and the tree.

  Brilliant.

  But it was time to get back to business—the business of Liz’s murder.

  “Antoinette Chloe, got any idea how we can get Pastor Fritz out of his parlor, so I can see what files Darlene might have put in there?”

  “Of course. I’ll have a spiritual crisis, and ask him to meet me somewhere. Maybe here at the diner or in my restaurant,” she said.

  “What spiritual crisis?” I couldn’t wait to hear this.

  “Hmm . . . I think I’ll tell him that I stole eight thousand bucks from . . . I don’t know . . . a store’s cash register when the cashier wasn’t looking, and I don’t know how to put it back.”

  “Brilliant,” I said. “He can counsel you just like he did Darlene before he married her. Or he might tell you to go to St. Luke’s—your church!”

  She giggled. “When do you want to break in?”

  “As soon as possible.”

  “I’m going to have my crisis tomorrow, then. Any particular time?”

  “I think Darlene has her gossipy Yarn Circle tomorrow again. About nine-ish should work, but I’ll call you for sure. The Yarn Circle is all morning long. She’s in the front of the building, so she might not know if I’m in the pastor’s parlor. I’ll keep the lights off.”

  “What about Roger, our not-friendly maintenance man? He’s all over the place, isn’t he? I don’t want him to see you. I think he’s creepy with a side of dangerous.”

  “Yeah, I know, and he already caught us once.” I shrugged. “It doesn’t seem like he believed we were leaving at the time. He talked to Ty and blew us in. I’m just glad I slid down the stairs. I probably wiped away our tracks. But we’ll have to get him out of the way, too, somehow, for this to work.”

  We made small talk, mostly discussing the beautiful decorations, talking about plans for the holidays, and we giggled like high schoolers about my going to the Law Enforcement Ball with Ty.