Miles nodded slowly. “I get that, I just thought…Well, of course I’m still in.”
“You’ll be at the judge meeting tomorrow morning then?” I said.
“Yes, bright and early.”
“Thanks, Miles. See you later.”
Once clear of Miles’s being able to either hear us or read our lips, Jake said, “Did you know that Miz was spending so much time with Everett?”
“I had no idea. She’s never been one to talk about her boyfriends. I knew they were friends and possibly romantic friends, but Gram’s not one to act moony unless Toby Keith or Tim McGraw is involved. But lunch and dinner at the pool hall? While they looked at papers? How romantic could it have been?”
“You need to talk to her, Betts. Maybe you, she, and Jerome can have a tête-à-tête. À tête.”
“Maybe.”
We passed the empty barber shop and finally the last business on this side of the street, Mabel’s Broken Crumbs. Mabel knew her way around a cookie. Gram was the first to admit that Mabel knew cookies better than anyone, Gram included. I often thought that Gram liked Mabel enough to keep her own cookie recipe selection small and low-key. If push ever came to shove, Missouri Anna could probably round up enough cookie recipes to put anyone to shame.
Just before we turned the corner, something flashed at the side of my vision. I wondered enough about what I saw to take a step backward and look into the cookie shop. It was normal that it wasn’t too busy this time of day, but usually I could see Mabel or Amy behind the display or cleaning the small dining area.
At first I didn’t see anyone, but suddenly it seemed that both Mabel and Amy appeared from behind the display and were moving past the cash register and toward the back of the store. It was difficult to interpret exactly what I was seeing, but Mabel had Amy by her arm and seemed to be moving her forcefully, roughly along. They disappeared behind the door to the kitchen without knowing I’d seen them.
“That was strange,” Jake said.
I didn’t realize he’d been watching, too.
“It made me uncomfortable,” I said. “Should we…”
“I’m not sure what we could do. Maybe Amy was hurt and Mabel was hurrying her to the back to help her. We all know how much work Amy has been for Mabel, but the girl seems to be getting better. She’s more pleasant to talk to, and she seems happier. I think what we just saw might have been something that was none of our business. However, I do think we need to watch for signs of something else.” Jake’s words were reasonable, but his tone was doubtful.
I’d go along with it for now, but the red flag had been raised, and from now on I would watch both Amy and Mabel more closely.
“Come on,” Jake said as he nudged at my elbow.
The alleys of Broken Rope weren’t like alleys of big cities or any-sized cities, really. The spaces were wide and bordered by Dumpsters that were emptied on a regular basis. The entire space was kept clean and there were no typical alley dwellers in sight. There was also a number of storage sheds next to the Dumpsters. We were a theatrical town, and some of our props weren’t required for the full year. Some businesses were able to store their things in basements or attics, but others needed the sheds that held items such as old-fashioned signs or costumes or whatever.
Jake led us along the alley, past Mabel’s, past the barbershop, past the pool hall, and to the back of the Jasper, which even if we hadn’t known where we were, an old sign that hung from a second-story window grate told us we’d reached our destination. The sign looked like it had been constructed and painted in the late nineteenth century, but I knew it was just a reproduction, something the owner before Everett had put on the front of the building. It said simply, the jasper theater and had never fit well with the theater’s ornate decor. When Everett bought the business, he removed the sign and replaced it with a small plaque. He’d mentioned that the building had enough things to look at; it didn’t need a tacky sign, too.
There was a similar two-door system at the back of the Jasper as there’d been at the front but with only one set of doors. They were locked, too, but we weren’t surprised.
“I’m going to boost you up and you can try the window.”
“That’s your trick? The window?”
Jake blushed, which was a rare occurrence. “Yes, I used to sneak into the theater when I was a kid, when I first moved here. The window leads, or used to lead, to a film storage room. If you timed it just right, you could exit that room and make it into the auditorium before the projectionist even knew you were there.”
“You scoundrel, you. You think you know someone…”
Jake rolled his eyes and threaded his hands together. “Climb.”
I grabbed hold of a brick protruding from the building and stepped into Jake’s hands. I barely faltered as I shot up to the window. I pushed up on the bottom sash, but it wasn’t going anywhere.
“Okay, let me down. It’s either locked or painted shut.”
“Shoot,” he said as I reached the ground again. “Well, short of breaking the window then, I don’t see a way in,” Jake said as he put his hands on his hips.
“Me neither.” The thought occurred to me to do as much, but there didn’t seem to be a good-enough reason to break, enter, or trespass. Searching the Jasper was a hunch. Granted, the hunch was stronger because Jerome mentioned seeing the paper on Everett’s desk and Miles said that Gram and Everett had been looking at papers of some sort, but breaking laws unless absolutely necessary wasn’t something I thought I should do. Gram was in jail, and though her freedom was on the line, I had no sense that she was in imminent danger. In fact, her being in jail might be the safest place for her.
A sound popped through the air and then something pinged. It was a familiar noise, but I didn’t place it right away.
“What was that?” I said.
“That couldn’t have been what I thought it was,” Jake said as he turned and looked down the alley. “It sounded like a gunshot. Like a bullet ricocheting off something metal.”
The sound came again. This time it was more a boom than a pop, but it was still followed by a p-ting.
“Isabelle, you and your friend need to stop sticking your heads up in the air like fools on a Sunday. You’re being shot at.” Jerome was suddenly standing next to me. The scent of wood smoke filled the air, and though I had plenty of questions for him, I figured now wasn’t the time.
“Get down, Jake,” I said as I pulled on his shoulders.
From the ground and to the side of a storage shed, we both looked up at the spot where the next bullet landed. It broke a pane of glass in the door, right about where his head had just been.
Jake and I looked at each other and then back at the broken glass.
“Where’s the shooting coming from?” I said to Jerome, who’d crouched next to us.
Both Jake and Jerome said, “I don’t know.” Jake’s voice was tinged with more panic than Jerome’s smooth calm drawl. But Jerome was already dead, I supposed.
Even in all the years I’d lived in Broken Rope, even with all the guns (loaded with blanks though they might have been) everywhere, I’d never been shot at either in real life or pretend. It was horrifying. The sense of fear and feeling of being trapped muddled whatever good sense I might have left. The fear was real and deep and yet detached from me in a way that seemed like an out-of-body experience.
“You two need to get out of here—out of behind the buildings. You’re trapped.”
“What do you suggest?” I said.
“We have to get out of here,” Jake said.
“Jake, Jerome’s here. He’s trying to help,” I said.
Another shot boomed and then tinged.
“Where are the police? How do they not hear that?” Jake said, either ignoring what I’d said about Jerome or choosing not to comment.
“Sound is a funny thing,” Jerome said. “Anyone in front of these buildings might not hear one thing that’s going on behind them. But I think I know
where the shooting’s coming from.”
“Hang on, Jake. Jerome’s trying to figure it out.”
“Betts, you know I love you and you know I believe every word you say because I love you, but telling me that a ghost—one I’m not privileged to see—is trying to help is not easing my stress.”
“I know. Just a second,” I said to Jake. “Jerome, what are you thinking?”
“The shots are coming from up high, maybe on the roof to the south. Run the other direction you came from and then hurry out to the front of the buildings. Once you start, run your as…run really fast. I’m going to see if I can spot who’s pulling the trigger. Ready?”
“Can’t you just pop up there?”
“I’m going to try, but I’m not sure exactly where they are. I can’t do anything to them anyway, and…We’re wasting time.”
“Hang on.” I told Jake what we needed to do. He agreed with the plan. “Okay, we’re ready, Jerome.”
“Wait. There might be another shot. As soon as that happens, get your bu …Run! Give it a second.”
True to his prediction, another shot rang through the air, this bullet hitting the side of the shed we were using for protection.
“Go!” Jerome said.
Jake and I stood and scurried. Since the area between the back of the building and the storage sheds wasn’t big, I felt like a pinball that had just been propelled into the gauntlet with a weak spring mechanism; we couldn’t run fast enough to outrun speeding bullets, could we?
Another shot was fired, but I didn’t hear the resulting ping. Of course that could have been because I was screaming. Or was that Jake?
The distance from the spot behind the Jasper to the other end of the block was twice what we’d taken coming in the other direction, but it felt at least a hundred times farther.
Along with the bullets, we dodged two plastic buckets, someone’s old worn and discarded boots, and a huge wooden box that must have been used for ballots or raffle tickets—my shin got a corner of it, but Jake grabbed my arm before I could tumble to the ground.
Finally, we reached the spot where we could turn and get out in front of the buildings and into the street. Instead of stopping, though, we ran down the walkway, our footfalls rattling the planks and building windows. There were no other people out on the street. In two days, we would have run into hundreds of people, but currently Broken Rope resembled a ghost town more than a tourist town.
I pushed on the door of the jail with such vigor that it slammed open and rattled the handcuffs.
Jim and Cliff jumped up from their chairs and put their hands on their weapons. Mom, Dad, Teddy, Gram, and Verna looked at us like we’d either lost our minds or they weren’t sure who we were.
“Betts, Jake, what’s up?” Jim asked.
“Someone was shooting at us,” I said.
Jim and Cliff moved quickly around chairs, people, and wastebaskets. They told us to close the door and stay in the office until they came back. We did as they commanded.
At first, no one said anything. It was as if my words hadn’t registered with them.
Finally, my brother, Teddy, spoke, “Hey, sis, did you notice Cliff’s back in town? Whoop, whoop.”
Yes, my brother, not a bad guy but a goofball of the highest extreme, actually put his hands up and pumped the air.
Much to Teddy’s dismay, no one laughed.
CHAPTER 11
The truth was, I had forgotten about Cliff again. Well, maybe not all the way, but I’d certainly put him to the back of my mind.
Gram’s getting officially arrested and my having conversations with a ghost and getting shot at had moved Cliff way down my priority list.
That didn’t stop me, however, from being impressed with his police officer skills. Even though he and Jim couldn’t find the shooter, they found evidence of the shoot-out in the form of expended bullets. Without my help or Jerome’s, they estimated that whoever was shooting at us was on top of one of the buildings to the south of the theater. That meant that someone was on top of the pool hall, the barber shop, or Broken Crumbs, or perhaps had traveled down the entire row.
The only person they could immediately find to question was Miles, who, they said, told them we stopped by the pool hall. If he told them what he shared with us about Gram and Everett and their secret papers, Jim and Cliff didn’t let on.
Miles had heard something, but he had been in his basement and the shots had been muffled. He thought someone was practicing a fake gunfight somewhere. Even though it’s Broken Rope law that all rehearsals that include gunfire are to be posted on the board outside the jail, he thought he’d missed a post. The shots had been background noise to him.
Jim and Cliff also said they’d talked to Mabel and Amy who said they hadn’t heard anything at all. But there was something about the way Jim and Cliff acted when they spoke about Mabel and her granddaughter. Something bothered them, I could tell, but they certainly weren’t going to tell me what it was.
I had a brief moment where I thought I should tell them what Jake and I had seen through the window but thought better of it because I truly didn’t know what had been going on, and I didn’t want to make something of nothing. If they thought something was wrong, I trusted that they’d investigate it fully.
There were no other witnesses to be found. Jenna wasn’t in the saloon, and even though Stuart had been working in his shop, it was located on the other side of the theater, and like Mabel and Amy he claimed not to have heard anything at all.
Fortunately, the only injury sustained by either of us was the bloody gash on my leg. Everyone concluded that I didn’t need stitches, but the sooner I could get it cleaned out and bandaged, the better. I cleaned it in the bathroom, but I wasn’t leaving the jail until I had a few moments to talk to Gram alone.
My goal wasn’t easily achieved. Jim and Cliff did work there, so I tried to cut them some slack for hanging around in my way. Verna left shortly after the shoot-out but not before again commanding Gram not to talk to anyone without her attorney present. Teddy thought the whole day might end up ranking as one of his top ten because of the numerous adventures, including the one where his grandmother had been arrested for murder. I wasn’t sure if he’d ever grasp the seriousness of the situation. He tried to console me by telling me to look at the positive side, which he claimed was that everything would work out. Gram would be found innocent because she couldn’t possibly kill anyone. And he mentioned quietly so only I could hear that Gram’s time away would give me a chance to take a leadership role at the school.
“Teddy, I don’t want a leadership role. I love working for Gram,” I told him.
“Shoot, a person can always build their leadership skills. Hey, did you know Cliff was back in town? I mean, before you were shot at and barreled into the jail?” Teddy leaned back in his chair and smiled the smile that frequently got him in too much trouble.
I refused to talk to him further and he left when he thought the excitement had come to an end.
Thankfully, my parents both had to get to work. High school students don’t care much about family emergencies even if they are about murder. They couldn’t do much for Gram as she sat in jail.
I was able to convince Jake to leave after he gave a full statement to Jim and Cliff. I told him we’d meet later.
I wished Jerome were around, but he’d already told me he couldn’t make his ghostly way into the jail. I didn’t know how to call him or ask him to appear, but I thought that might be a useful skill to learn.
As Jim worked on his computer, I sat on the outside of the cell and leaned in toward Gram.
“Gram, I don’t think we have time to discuss the disruptive nature of learning that ghosts are not only real, but now I’m able to communicate with one, so I’m just going to ignore that and ask you more important things. I need you to trust me and talk to me. No more elusiveness, okay?”
Gram paused a moment but finally said, “Okay, Betts, what’s on your mind?” She
scooted forward on the lower bunk. Except for Teddy, she was the one most taking her arrest in stride. She knew she was innocent and that even if there wasn’t a good explanation why her fingerprints were on the bag, she believed Verna would come up with one.
I looked at Jim to make sure he wasn’t listening. He didn’t seem to be, but he was probably well practiced at looking like he wasn’t listening. I kept my voice low.
“What’s the best way to get hold of Jerome? Can I call out to him or twitch my nose or something?”
Gram laughed. “Oh, Betts, don’t be ridiculous.”
“Okay,” I said with exaggerated patience. “Help me understand that part better.”
“Jerome is around. Sometimes he can communicate, sometimes he can’t. It’s like he’s a blip in the system.”
“A blip?”
Gram’s mouth pinched briefly before she spoke. “Dead people are supposed to be dead, Betts.”
“I’m in agreement on that one, Gram.”
“But there’s something about this place, something about Broken Rope that keeps its citizens around sometimes, especially those who did something special or outrageous. And we’ve got plenty of those characters, let me tell you.”
“This is about Broken Rope? Are you telling me that you see, communicate with, talk to, more ghosts than just Jerome?” Again, I wondered if I really wanted to hear the answer.
“That’s not what’s important right now. What you need to understand is that Jerome, as much of a ghost as he is, is just a piece of him, something left over from his life. Something left over from the impact of his life here in Broken Rope. We’ve always known we are part of a different community, a strange one at that. We’ve had so many odd things happen that odd has become the norm. Ghosts—but let’s just talk about Jerome specifically—shouldn’t be too much of a surprise. There’s something here, something that holds on to our past, some of our people, but that something isn’t strong enough to hold on to the whole taco platter plus the guacamole, so to speak. If I understand it correctly, and I’ve had a lot of time to ponder it, Jerome’s ghost is bits and pieces of energy, energy that is fairly random, although my connection to him has been happening for so long that I can, in a way, bring that energy to me. You won’t be able to, not yet, but maybe someday.”
If Fried Chicken Could Fly Page 11