Comic Sans Murder

by Paige Shelton

  “I see that. My goodness, what a pleasure.” He almost forgot to shake Nathan’s extended hand, but Janise tapped him on the shoulder. “We heard you were in town, and then lost, and then found. We’re glad you were found.”

  “Me too. I’m sorry about your recent tragedy. Please. Will you wait here a moment?” Nathan said.

  We all looked around at each other as Nathan disappeared to the workshop. A moment later, he brought out his Splendid, which he’d brought with him again.

  “Clare and Chester told me about your recent tragedy. I know this isn’t your mother’s, but I would love for you to have it,” Nathan said as he held the typewriter toward Evan.

  Chester and I were stunned speechless for a moment. Even Baskerville’s whiskers twitched in shock. Evan didn’t know what to say either, and Janise had to blink hard to get rid of a few tears.

  “I couldn’t,” Evan finally muttered.

  “Yes, you could, and I insist that you must,” Nathan said.

  “I’ve never been given something so wonderful,” Evan said.

  “Well, I’m glad you think so. I did write one of my bestselling novels on it.”

  “Oh my. Well, thank you,” Evan said.

  “Thank you,” Janise said.

  “My pleasure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work. Have a lovely day,” Nathan said before he turned and went back to the workshop again.

  “I’m . . . I still don’t know what to say,” Evan said.

  “I think you should just enjoy the typewriter,” Chester said. “Use it. Make it as special to you as your mother’s was to her.”

  “I will. Definitely.”

  Evan and Janise looked at each other.

  “So you got your book?” I interjected before they could protest again. “The one from Starry Nights up the street.”

  “Oh no, we’ve been back a couple of times, but the shop has always been closed, and when we’ve looked in the windows, it’s a terrible mess, papers everywhere. Bad timing, I guess. We hadn’t paid for the book already, so no financial loss, and I think we can get it shipped to us, but I was really hoping to see it before I paid for it,” Evan said.

  I thought hard back to when Sarah told me that Evan and Janise had picked up their book. Had I misheard her? She’d been in the bookstore every time I’d been there. Evan and Janise must have chosen strange times to stop by, but the place had been messy, always in different ways, but definitely . . .

  “Clare?” Chester said.

  “Oh, sorry,” I said, realizing I’d made a perplexed noise. “She’s had a terrible tragedy. I’m sure the shop will be closed for a while.” I bit my lip. I’d already gotten myself too involved with Sarah’s valuable copy of Carrie; I didn’t need to get any deeper into her business. But I couldn’t help wondering why she’d lied about the book being picked up. Why would she? Why would it matter enough for her to lie? “How about you give me your address? I’ll check on it and see if we can get it to you.”

  “That’s above and beyond,” Janise said.

  Chester made a noise that sounded like he agreed with Janise. And Baskerville sent me a tiny warning meow. I was stepping too far.

  “Gracious,” Janise said as she looked at Baskerville. “Is that cat okay?”

  “Yes, Baskerville just likes to chat sometimes.”

  Chester smiled at the cat as Janise wrote down their address. They thanked us all and apologized again. With the piece of paper with their address tucked into my pocket, I watched them leave and then looked back at Chester.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?” Chester said.

  “Up to Starry Night Books,” I said.

  “It will be closed,” Chester said. “And Sarah won’t be there.”

  “I know, but I have to go up there,” I said. “I just need to see something, maybe just through the window. I’ll be right back.”

  “Either Nathan or Adal is going with you. One second, and I’ll grab them.”

  A few seconds later, Nathan came back out with Chester.

  “Let’s go,” Nathan said.

  “Okay, but it’s broad daylight and the streets are busy. Don’t wear your scarf.”

  “Good plan.”

  We set off at a quick clip.

  “What’s going on, Clare? Why are we in such a hurry? Surely, Sarah won’t be there,” Nathan said as he double-stepped once so that our footfalls matched.

  “I don’t know, Nathan. Something about the shop. Evan and Janise made me think more about Sarah’s strange behavior, which caused me to remember something, sort of. You know how you’re minding your own business and something happens, someone says something or you see something and you remember back to something you didn’t notice when you saw it at the time, but your subconscious suddenly makes it come back to the forefront?”

  “Sure. Mostly, that happens to me as I’m falling asleep. It’s why I keep a notebook and pen by my bed.”

  “Right. Well . . . well, I’m remembering some pieces of something. I saw something in there and I think it’s important.”

  “What?”

  “Some pieces of paper.”

  “That’s slightly vague. It is a bookshop.”

  “I know.”

  We dodged some pedestrian and car traffic.

  “That was very generous to give them your typewriter,” I said.

  “Not really. Actually, I have quite a few of the exact same model. That one has a sometimes sticky R key. It would have been more generous if I’d given them my favorite one, but it’s at home.”

  “Still, very kind.”

  We made it to the bookshop in record time, not surprised to find the door locked and the lights off.

  I stepped up onto the stoop and peered inside. The messes I’d seen before looked to be more under control, but I couldn’t competently judge based only on the neat and tidy counter and the lack of random stacks and boxes here and there. Where had I seen what I was remembering?

  “The back room,” I said aloud.

  “What’s that?”

  “I think I saw it in the back room.”

  “Well, what are the chances that what you saw is still there?” Nathan asked.

  “Normally, I would think the chances would be nil, but I have to check.”

  “I don’t understand, Clare.”

  I jiggled the doorknob.

  “Locked, huh?” Nathan said.

  “Yes, but if one of us had a paper clip, I think we could get in. It’s an old door and an old lock.”

  Nathan laughed.

  I looked at him. “I’m not kidding, Nathan. I want to get inside. If I had something that would work, I’d try.”

  Nathan blinked. “That doesn’t sound like the mild-mannered typewriter repair person I’ve come to know.”

  “At the moment, I’m the Star City High School grad who’s recently lost two of her classmates, and who has regrets for not being a better friend to one of them.”

  “I see,” he said. “Well, step aside, then.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, I moved back and let Nathan into the space. He looked back at me. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure, but you’re the one breaking in. I’ll take the blame, but you could get in trouble too. Are you sure?”

  “Oh yes, of course I’m sure. This is excellent research. There was a séance in here. Perhaps there are still spirits hanging around. I can use their communications for a future book.”

  “Whatever you need to tell yourself,” I said.

  I watched his back as he miraculously produced a paper clip from his pocket, but no one was paying us any attention, their focus either up or down the hill.

  “Easy as pie,” he said as the lock clicked and he turned the knob. The hinges squeak
ed a creepy welcome as he pushed the door open. “See, perfect.”

  For the record, there’s a big difference between wanting to break into someplace and actually doing it. Once we were inside the frigid shop, probably cold from the furnace being turned down, my conscience kicked in big.

  “This is horrible,” I said.

  Nathan shrugged. “We aren’t here to do any damage, and the entire world could have been watching us. It’s daylight out there. We weren’t too sneaky, which should count for something, right?”

  “Yeah, I doubt it,” I said. “We should get out of here.”

  “Or we could take a quick look around,” Nathan said. “Quick.”

  “Quick,” I said a moment later.

  He let me lead the way as we headed toward the back of the shop. I looked over the counter and saw only a clean floor. Not even one stray paperback. Even the shelves underneath looked to have been organized.

  “There’s a room back here,” I said when we reached the door. “If this one’s locked we’re not going in.”

  Nathan nodded.

  But the door wasn’t locked. We pushed through and I found a switch on the wall to my left.

  “This place is spotless now,” I said.

  Nathan sniffed. “Smell that?”

  I sniffed too. “Citrus?”

  “Yeah, strong.”

  “Maybe a cleaning product.”

  The room was neat and organized, the boxes of books on the shelves in a tight formation. The shelves that held books without boxes were also neat and organized. The small table that served as a desk was minimalistic with only one notebook and one pen at the ready. For an instant, I was jealous of the organization, and then I wondered how in the world Sarah had pulled it together. Hadn’t this shop been a total mess just a few days before?

  I glanced into the garbage can.

  “She even emptied the garbage,” I said as I looked at Nathan.

  “You sound disappointed.”

  “I am. I think what I saw was in the garbage.”

  “I’m sorry, but good grief, that smell is strong,” Nathan said.

  “We need to get out of here anyway. Let’s go.” I guided us out of the room.

  I flipped off the switch, but as I pulled the door closed, I was interrupted.

  “Police. Hands up!”

  I knew the voice. The person attached to the voice knew me. Nevertheless, Nathan threw both hands into the air.

  “Clare?” Jodie said as she flipped off the flashlight that had blinded Nathan and me.

  “Oh, crap,” I said.

  “Dammit, Clare. You’re kidding, right?” Jodie said.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “My fault,” Nathan said.

  “I bet,” Jodie said. She sighed heavily. “All right, let’s go.”

  “Are we being arrested?” I said.

  “Get in the Bronco, both of you. We’ll talk at the station.”

  The good news was that she let me call Chester as we were on our way down the hill to let him know we wouldn’t be back as soon as we’d thought.

  Unfortunately, the truly bad news was still to come.

  26

  “But you don’t know what you saw?” Jodie asked.

  “There was so much stuff in there that day, Jodie, so I can’t be sure. But I just couldn’t stop myself from going up there and then trying to get in. Nathan tried to stop me.”

  “I did not,” Nathan said. He had been delighted to be taken to the police station. He thought that breaking and entering into a bookstore just might sell more books.

  Jodie hadn’t arrested us. As she’d steered the Bronco down the hill, she called the security company that monitored, with hidden wires, Starry Night, and told them the alarm had been tripped but that there was no sign of anyone breaking and entering.

  When she ended the call, Nathan had asked, “If I used a paper clip to jimmy the lock, does that mean I only entered illegally but didn’t break in?”

  She had sent him some of her unhappy eyes via the rearview mirror. He hadn’t seem fazed.

  “Anyway, Clare,” Jodie said from across the interview room table. “You can’t remember what you saw, but you were compelled to go find it?”

  “That’s the only explanation I have,” I said. “I think it was something important, it must have been, but it’s still partially buried in my subconscious or something.”

  I wasn’t lying, but it sure sounded like I was.

  “A book?” Jodie said.

  “Maybe,” I said. “What else could it be?”

  Jodie’s partner, Omar, knocked once and then leaned into the room.

  “Jodie, do you need any paperwork on these two?” he asked.

  “No, I’m going to let them go. It was a mistake. The door was unlocked and they thought the store was open for business. That’s all.” Again she sent some angry eyes to Nathan. This time he kept quiet.

  “Okay, I’m out of here, then. Call me if you need me to come back later,” Omar said.

  “Will do. Thanks,” she said.

  “Are you in charge?” I said as the door closed.

  She shrugged and said, “All right, the two of you. Seriously, I can’t believe I have to say this, but don’t do that sort of thing. Call me. Clare, if you really felt like there was something inside there to see, you should have called me. I have some connections, you know. I could have had the alarm disarmed.”

  I nodded. “But are you in charge?”

  “I am. For the time being,” she said. “Creighton would be the one in charge, but he’s home being watched by another officer.”

  “That’s cool that you’re in charge.”

  “Clare,” she said.

  “It is cool, but yes, I hear what you’re saying.”

  Jodie sighed. “All right, I’m going to take you both back up to The Rescued Word and we’re not going to speak of this ever again.”

  Chester and Adal weren’t amused by my adventure with Nathan. However, after Jodie left, Chester became distracted by the Hoovens, and Adal and Nathan did some page design work on Nathan’s book.

  I helped a couple of customers, but my mind was completely distracted. What had I thought I’d seen? Was it something in the garbage can? Was it a book?

  “Clare, come look!” Chester said from the workshop doorway just as I was flipping the sign on the door to CLOSED. “It’s extraordinary.”

  I hurried to the back.

  “I just used my last sheet. Grab some of the scratch paper,” Chester said as he stood by the Hoovens.

  I gathered some of the green paper from the corner of my desk and brought it to Chester as he, Nathan, and Adal crowded around the Hoovens. He’d pulled the middle machine away from the wall; it now seemed less dusty than the others.

  “Here,” I said as I handed him a piece of paper.

  “Now watch,” he said.

  He threaded the paper through the paper feed and about an inch up on the carriage roll. He flipped a switch and the machine started to rumble and shake. He pushed a button and the paper moved upward as the keys struck it. The piano player roll also moved as an arm read the pattern that was being translated by the keys.

  It was like watching something appear out of thin air, a magic trick, something old and outdated but new to our eyes.

  Once the printing stopped, both Adal and Nathan applauded and Chester grabbed the paper and gave it to me.

  I read aloud. “April 19, 1960. Dear Kind Friend and Loyal Fan. Thanks for your congratulations on my Oscar. It was nice hearing from you; it was nice hearing from them. But I appreciate your support. Thanks again. Bob Hope.”

  I paused.

  “What?” I said. “This machine belonged to the comedian and actor Bob Hope?”

  “We can’t be sure
, of course,” Chester said. “But I think so. If that’s the case, he must have sent out this form thank-you letter to some fans.”

  “Oh my,” I said.

  Chester smiled and brushed the back of his mustache with his knuckle. “How about that?”

  “How did you do this?”

  “The machine is in great shape. We have ribbons galore. I loaded one up, dusted the old guy off, plugged it in, and this happened. I can’t wait to see what might happen with the other two.”

  “A working Hooven. That Bob Hope owned. Holy moly,” I said. The machines were awesome enough. This new development was almost unbelievable.

  “Yep,” Chester said.

  Even non-typewriter folks would be intrigued by this. Chester and I both decided we would show Lloyd’s parents the Hoovens as soon as it seemed appropriate, but in the meantime, Adal would take it upon himself to clean them up, plug them all in, and see what magic they had waiting for us to discover. I still didn’t feel right about keeping them, but it was impossible not to enjoy them while they were in our possession.

  With Baskerville bringing his full authoritative attitude to the front as he bade Adal, Nathan, and me good night with a growly meow, I locked the front door right after he and Chester disappeared behind the workshop door.

  I drove Adal and Nathan to their current homes: Adal’s apartment and the hotel. I thought about asking Nathan if he wanted to stay on my couch just because, but the idea felt uncomfortable, so I didn’t.

  I called Seth but had to leave him a message. I didn’t remember what his plans for the day or evening had been, but I knew he’d call later.

  I drove up the hill toward Little Blue, and my attention turned once again toward Starry Nights Bookstore as I passed by it. Pedestrians traveled both up and down the street and I had a car both in front of and behind me, so I couldn’t keep my eyes on the shop the whole time. For an instant, I thought I saw someone I recognized standing against the wall next to the shop. Was that Creighton? But when I was able to focus there again, I didn’t see him. I didn’t see anyone mixing with the pedestrians who looked like him.

  He was at home being watched, according to Jodie. I was sure I’d imagined him outside the bookstore. I grabbed my phone to let Jodie know about the hallucination anyway. She would want to know, wouldn’t she? However, I couldn’t bring myself to press the SEND button. She would want to know if I was sure, but the reaction I’d get if I told her what I thought I’d seen didn’t seem worth the effort. I’d already given her enough trouble for the day. I’d tell her tomorrow.