If Fried Chicken Could Fly

by Paige Shelton

  “Thanks, Jim, Cliff,” I said as I stood. I encouraged Jake to stand with me. He did, but only hesitantly. As he reached for the jail’s doorknob, a pair of handcuffs fell to the floor, the same pair that had fallen the night Gram was arrested.

  I turned and looked at Jim. “See, we didn’t touch them.”

  They didn’t say a thing as we left.

  “That wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it would be,” Jake said as we walked across the street again.

  “No, but maybe they’ll give it some consideration,” I said. “Maybe they’ll find something.”

  “Should we go search for a cigarette butt?” Jake asked with half enthusiasm.

  “Nah, I do think they were right about us having experienced too much drama. I don’t have much desire to hang out in the alley again especially at night.”

  I looked at the goings-on at the end of the street once more. Though it was lit, the alley would still be shadowed and mostly silent. Tomorrow—no this— evening now, the entire town would be hopping, including the alley. People ventured back there all the time, mostly just out of curiosity.

  “Maybe later, tonight—it’s that late, or early, I suppose—after everything’s over for the day,” I said as I peered at the theater. It looked like the doors were open.

  “Betts.” Jake waved his hand in front of my face. “Where did you go?”

  “Sorry. I think we should be done for now. Have you written your poem for opening day festivities yet?”

  Jake laughed. “I’ve written a number of versions. Need to finish it up when I get home. I think it’ll mention ghosts and treasures, though. Write what you know and all.”

  “Go home. Write, get some rest, and I’ll see you later.”

  “You’re going home, too?” Jake asked as he followed the line of my vision and looked at the theater.

  “Absolutely.”

  And to prove it further, I let him walk me to my car. I got in and drove toward home. I pulled off on a side street and waited five minutes until he drove by going in the direction of his house. And then I went back into town.

  CHAPTER 21

  Jerome had said he’d be in the theater. I figured the doors had been opened to prepare for the big day. Maybe live people were inside cleaning, maybe Jim found someone to run it.

  Whatever. It looked like I could get in, and for a reason I wasn’t sure I understood, I wanted to be there.

  I parked in front of the theater, which was about a half block from the hanging platform in one direction and a half block to the jail in the other direction. It looked like Jim and Cliff had left, too, but anyone who happened to look this way would see my car.

  “Isabelle, right?” Evan approached. His shaggy blond hair glowed with the artificial light and I remembered how he’d looked with his head in the school’s ceiling: like he had a halo.

  “Most everyone calls me Betts.”

  “Everything okay after the fire?”

  “Yes. My brother got everything cleaned up. We have a couple missing ceiling tiles, but he said he’d have those replaced soon.”

  “Good to hear.” Evan looked around. “We’ve got a pretty big day ahead of us, huh?”

  I laughed. “Yes, as quiet as it is at this moment, you’ll be shocked at the amount of people we’ll see soon. It’s very fun, really.”

  “I’m looking forward to it. I’ve never had the duty of putting up a hanging platform. So far, Broken Rope has been full of surprises.”

  “And it will continue to be, I’m sure.”

  Evan laughed, but it was a sad laugh. I remembered his history and was suddenly sorry for him.

  “So, what’re you doing down here this time of night?” he asked.

  “I never sleep well before the cook-off. I saw the theater doors were open. I’d like to take a look around. Have you seen anyone coming or going?”

  “I don’t think so but I haven’t been paying attention. The doors are open though, so someone might be doing something.”

  “Evan, we could use a hand,” one of the workmen called from the other side of the street.

  “Nice to see you, Betts. Tell Missouri hello for me,” he said before he turned and hurried to the platform.

  The light from inside the theater seemed to beckon me inside. I looked around to see if anyone else was watching me and then went to look for Jerome.

  He was right inside the door, looking at the pictures, Belinda’s picture to be exact.

  “Jerome?” I said quietly as I approached.

  “Isabelle, hello.” He tipped his hat, but his eyes went quickly back to the picture. I suddenly wondered why I’d never told him to call me Betts, like I did the rest of the world.

  “What’s going on?” I asked because I had no idea what other question to ask.

  “I remember her,” he said, a smile tugging at his mouth but not making it to his eyes. “We were in love, deeply.”

  “Go on.” A thrill zipped through my system. Were we finally going to learn that final piece of the puzzle? I looked at the picture and the impossible pose. She was lovely and didn’t have Jenna’s rough edge. Belinda and Jenna were a couple generations apart, but the genetics had carried well.

  “I was dying.”

  “What?” The zip fizzled. This was sad news even if it wasn’t timely.

  “I was dying. The doctor told me I had the cancer. Belinda and I were together, but we kept it a secret. She owned this place. She’d run out on her mean SOB of a husband, run from back east, just like I had. She was legally married and worked with her father until he died. We couldn’t get married. Shoot, we couldn’t even let on that we were together. When she told me she was with babe, I begged her to run away with me, told her we’d go somewhere where no one could ever find us again. Maybe there’d be an ocean, maybe there’d be a desert, but we’d be together. I almost had her convinced when the doctor told me I didn’t have much longer to live.”

  “Oh, Jerome, that’s so sad.”

  “It’s why I robbed the bank. It’s why I stole the money and then the gold. It was a lot of gold, Isabelle. I knew I was going to die and she’d be left with a young’un. She didn’t know what having the baby would do to her body, do to her reputation, but she wouldn’t be able to do this for a while. I was going to die, there was no doubt. She’d be left alone with the babe.” He nodded at the picture. “She owned the Jasper but mostly made money on her own act. I had to do something to make sure they would be provided for. I ended up dying much more quickly and with less suffering than the cancer would have brought.”

  “Oh, Jerome, Gram told me it might be a blessing that you didn’t remember. I’m sorry if anything Jake or I did forced you into reliving these things.”

  Jerome was genuinely surprised. “Isabelle, no, it’s a blessing to remember. I don’t have much of anything in this existence. Mostly it’s bits and pieces of things and not remembering much of anything from one visit to the next one. This is real, a real memory and something that makes me think my life might have actually been worth something. A man—a dead man—doesn’t need much more than that, even when he was alive maybe. I thank you.”

  I nodded. Belinda must have died after she had the baby. According to the note, the baby had been adopted by a cousin.

  “I’m trying hard to remember where we hid the treasure. We hid it together, Belinda and I. She wasn’t happy with my thieving ways, but she would have done anything to protect the future of that child.” He laughed. “She was all for hiding a treasure for its future.”

  “It was a boy, you know,” I said. “I at least paid attention to that part of the family tree. She had a boy. It looked like there were no other children and he grew, married, and had a family of his own. I’ll have Jake and Verna investigate it closer. Maybe there are pictures somewhere.”

  Jerome shook his head slowly. “I don’t think there’s much time left, Isabelle, and I don’t know if or when I’ll come back. If you find something, hang on to it and maybe some
day…”

  “Sure, of course.”

  Jerome turned his attention back to the picture.

  “Hey, you want to come with me? I can take you to Gram’s, or you can come to my house again,” I said, but the offer felt strange and uncomfortable. He was capable of getting himself anywhere he wanted to be, but it didn’t seem right just to leave without offering.

  “Thank you, Isabelle, but I think I’ll stay right here. I might remember more.”

  “I understand,” I said after a moment. “I’ll see you later.” I hope.

  There was no one else in the theater. I still didn’t know why the front doors were open and the lights were on. I peered into the auditorium but had no desire to search it alone. If someone was inside, they were being very quiet.

  Jerome’s story had left me sad and spooked. I wanted nothing more than to go home, go to bed, and not think about the previously unknown tragedy of Jerome Cowbender’s life. He really had been misunderstood. I stepped back out into the night. The hanging platform was almost in place, and I had a sudden vision of older times, when the platform was used for what it was meant to be, not a place for cook-off judges to sit and sample the labors of cooking students.

  I could “see” the throng gathered to watch the horrible deadly punishment. I could see the women in their dresses and cloaks and the men in their dusty clothes. I could hear the sounds and even imagine some of the smells. Broken Rope was an odd place to live, but it was home and for the first time in a long time I was glad to be there; sad and spooked though I might have been, I suddenly appreciated the history that was all around.

  I ventured one last glance back into the theater before heading home.

  Too bad I didn’t notice the shoes that had been left beside the old front counter. They were just canvas tennis shoes, but they had some red spots on them.

  It might have saved us all a lot of trouble.

  CHAPTER 22

  I ended up with about three hours of sleep. The adrenaline from the excitement of the cook-off and a pot of coffee would get me through at least most of the day. I’d be fine.

  My dreams had been haunted by stories of Jerome, but by the time I got out of bed I had to switch my complete focus to the cook-off. I hoped Jerome hadn’t left, but I’d have to worry about that later. I’d meet Gram at the school at seven, so I had some time.

  From all indications, it was going to be perfect weather—sunny and warm but not too hot. On my way to the school, I took the long way around town to the outskirts to inspect the RV park. As I suspected, it was full to overflowing with one fifth-wheel parked on the road waiting for either a space or help with maneuvering into a spot. I’d forgotten that it was my yearly ritual to check it every night before the cook-off. Late the previous evening, it would have had only a few vehicles but it always sprouted exponentially overnight. The fact that I’d forgotten the tradition left an uncomfortable whoosh in my gut. I wasn’t superstitious about many things, but this ritual had become important. Finally, I forced myself to shrug it off and not think about any possible blips I’d put into the universe.

  Before the road was closed to motor traffic, I drove down Main Street toward the hanging platform. Every light was on everywhere, even as the sun rose. The door to Jake’s sheriff’s office was open, and I thought he was probably rehearsing or sweeping the floor. I could see both Mabel and Amy in the cookie shop. I knew the shop was going to sell cookies, but they were probably making sure their ovens were ready for the contestants.

  Miles was sweeping off his pool tables, and Jenna stood behind the bar in the saloon and concentrated on something on the shelf in front of her. They’d all have someone cover for them when they left for judging duty. I admired their dedication to making sure everything was in place before the cook-off. They had probably slept about as much as I had.

  I pulled over to the side of the road and stared at Jenna. If she looked out, she’d see me and wonder what I was doing, but it was worth the risk.

  I remembered the first time I met her. It was just over a year earlier when she came to town and got a job at the saloon. She’d struck me as almost stereotypical, with her heavy makeup and cigarette-ragged voice. She had a big scratchy laugh that everyone enjoyed and a way with cuss words that made you want to cover children’s ears. She was a party girl, but she’d never once struck me as homicidal.

  I wondered briefly if I could just ask her. Could I just walk into the saloon and ask her about her relationship with Everett? Did she even know? Did Everett know? Could I go in and search for some sort of gun?

  Jerome had been interested in his family tree but not as far as wondering more about Everett and Jenna. He seemed only interested in gaining the memories from his relationship with Belinda. One thing at a time, I supposed.

  “Betts,” a voice said through the passenger’s window.

  “Cliff, you’re up early.”

  “Everyone is.” He looked toward the saloon. “Trying to figure out if she’s Everett’s daughter?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  “I might be able to help. Drive me to Bunny’s for some coffee? I’d suggest walking, but Jim’s going to shut down the street in a minute and you don’t want the Nova towed, do you?”

  I thought about it a second. Might not be a bad thing. “Maybe not.” At least until I knew if I’d be able to afford the Mustang.

  I needed to get to the school but it would be okay if I was a little later than everyone else. The students might start working early but things didn’t get too crazy until about mid-morning.

  “Hop in,” I said.

  Even Bunny’s early crowd had grown. Many of the tourists had marked Bunny’s as one of their prime destinations, and it would be packed all day. The early birds seemed to think they’d get the best food.

  Cliff and I found places at the counter and had cups of coffee and plates with large sweet rolls in front of us in record time. I knew there were plenty of sweet rolls to last the entire day. Gram had given Bunny her sweet roll recipe about twenty years ago, and they were still one of the most popular items on the menu. Bunny made them by the hundreds.

  There was no privacy, but the place buzzed with the hum of the crowd, so we weren’t concerned about being overheard.

  “What do you know about Jenna?” I asked.

  “She was adopted,” Cliff began, “by a couple in Kansas. Her birth parents are from Springfield, but we don’t have any further information. We suspect that when we get all the pieces of the puzzle put together, we’ll find that Everett was her father.”

  “You took me and Jake seriously?”

  “Of course.”

  “You acted like you thought we might be making things up.”

  Cliff chewed on the roll for a second and swallowed. “We did, but we thought it might be worth a look. Jim has a cousin who works for Family Services in Topeka. He called his cousin last night, well a few hours ago, and had him go into his office and do some computer snooping.”

  “That’s impressive,” I said.

  “Just because we’re small-town doesn’t mean we can’t get stuff done.”

  “Well, good, I suppose. It must mean something. Maybe.” There still wasn’t any bright light shining on a guilty party. The familial connections were strange, but not yet proven to have created a killer.

  “Yes, and Jim is planning on another visit with Everett’s widow as soon as he can get out of here for the day, but when that will be is a mystery. It’s a pretty big day. Plus someone’s got a happy trigger finger. We’ll be earning our pay today.”

  “I know. I thought about that. Do you think there’s cause for much concern?” I said.

  “We’re taking extra precautions.”

  “How?”

  “I can’t go into detail, but not all of the fake cops will be fake cops today. We’ve called in some help from Springfield. We don’t want anyone hurt.”

  “Good plan,” I said.

  “Jim’s been as on top of things as
he could be.”

  “Got it,” I said.

  Cliff and I were sitting in Bunny’s having sweet rolls and coffee—and it was easy. Suddenly it wasn’t as if all that time and all that life had passed. For an instant, I forgot that I was a law school dropout. I forgot that Cliff had gone away and lived a whole other life, forgot that he’d been married. And seeing him hadn’t surprised me again. I’d accepted that he was back. It was as if the world suddenly righted itself on its axis.

  But only for a second, which I realized was a good thing. I had somehow become mature enough that I knew no matter how easy it was between the two of us as we sat at Bunny’s counter, there was no going back to the way things had been in high school. My relationship with Cliff, whatever it turned out to be, was going to be new and different, perhaps tainted a little from the past, but the worst thing I could do was hold on to that past. Moving forward was the only healthy path.

  Cliff glanced at his watch. “Gotta go, Betts. Jim needs me.” He stood and dropped some money on the counter. “Listen, I want you to be aware of everything around you today. Pay attention and listen to your gut. If any place or any situation feels strange, remove yourself from it immediately.” Cliff’s dimple was always deeper when he smiled or when he was extra concerned.

  “I’ll be careful. You, too,” I said.

  Had Cliff been Jake, we might have hugged or even kissed cheeks. There was a clear gap in what was expected. I just smiled and Cliff awkwardly patted me on the arm before hurrying out of the restaurant. I turned back to my mug and caught Bunny looking at me. She rolled her eyes before turning to deliver coffee to a customer on the other side of the counter.

  I was tempted to take a dollar out of the amount Cliff had left, but I didn’t. Instead, I dropped a couple more. Bunny and the rest of her staff were just about to experience their busiest day of the year. I could forgive the eye roll.

  I wanted to check the theater for Jerome, but I’d run out of time so I drove back to the school.