Shot Through the Tart

by Chelsea Thomas

  Miss May cupped her hands and peered inside the dojo. “Master Skinner usually runs classes from 8 AM until 5 PM on Saturdays.”

  I nodded. “It’s his busiest day of the week. Are you sure the door is locked?” I tugged on the door too. Yup. Locked alright.

  I cupped my hands over my eyes and looked inside. So did Teeny. Sure enough, the place was dark. The mats were stacked up against the walls. The back wall, lined with Master Skinner’s karate trophies, looked sinister in the dimly lit dojo. I shuddered. “I forgot how many trophies he has.”

  Teeny swallowed. “Terrifying. I wonder how many of those were awarded specifically for a killer donkey kick?”

  Miss May stepped away from the window and crossed her arms. “OK. This is suspicious. It’s very unlike Master Skinner to close the dojo.”

  “Chelsea, you said Germany was considering running the play tonight, right?” Teeny asked. “Maybe Skinner is home preparing for his role, now that he’s the lead.”

  “I don’t know. Germany seemed pretty determined to put on the show, but I’m not sure if he’ll go through with it,” I said.

  “I hope he doesn’t,” said Miss May. “But you’re right. Skinner is probably home preparing.”

  Teeny took a step toward the parking lot. “So let’s go talk to him at his house.”

  Miss May took Teeny’s arm and pulled her back. “Not so fast. If the dojo is empty maybe we can go inside and take a look.”

  I glanced up and down the street. No one was in sight. “You want to break into Master Skinner’s dojo?”

  Miss May shrugged. “I want to investigate. Just for a few minutes.” Miss May turned to Teeny. “Remember when this place used to be Gina’s hair salon?”

  Teeny nodded. “How could I forget? That girl gave me ten of the worst haircuts of my life.”

  “Why did you keep going back?” I asked.

  “I loved Gina. She was hysterical. And I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”

  Miss May nodded. “She really was funny. I went just for the gossip. Terrible haircuts, though. Makes sense she went out of business.”

  “OK,” I said. “But why is that relevant now?”

  Miss May touched her nose. “Back when Gina owned this place she lost the keys to the front door. But she never bothered getting a new set because the door was in such bad condition, when she jiggled the handle it popped right open.”

  Teeny smiled. “And you think Master Skinner never fixed the door?”

  Miss May shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.”

  I smiled. “Small-town life never ceases to amaze me.”

  “Let’s see if this works, then you can be amazed.” Miss May grabbed the door handle and jiggled. She jiggled harder and harder. My amazement was starting to fade when voila! The door opened.

  Miss May turned back to me with a grin. “I knew it.”

  Then… Beep. Beep. Beep.

  The lights of a security alarm flashed inside the dojo. A loud voice boomed from a speaker on the wall. “Intruder. Intruder. Leave immediately.”

  Miss May, Teeny, and I stumbled back out to the sidewalk. Miss May pulled the door closed and the alarm immediately turned off. The three of us breathed a collective sigh of relief.

  Miss May pressed her palms to her chest. “Wow. That was close.”

  A deep, male voice boomed from behind us. “You’re telling me.”

  We turned. There was Detective Wayne Hudson. He looked tall. Strapping. Handsome, as always.

  But he did not look happy.

  10

  Wayne’s World

  “You got here fast,” I said.

  “The police are taking a very active role in the community these days,” said Wayne. “Vigorous patrolling.”

  Miss May cocked her head. “Glad to hear it. But are you sure you didn’t just happen to be walking by? That cup of coffee you’re holding from the Brown Cow is so hot it’s still steaming. Tells me you were in the neighborhood.”

  Wayne raised his eyebrows. “Maybe I was testing your detective skills, Miss May. Nice job. I was walking by.”

  “Want to know what else gave you away?” I asked.

  Wayne smirked. “Sure. Tell me.”

  “You’re wearing blue jeans.”

  “Are you saying you like my pants?” Wayne raised a flirtatious eyebrow. OK, maybe his eyebrow wasn’t flirtatious. But in my mind, it was.

  “I’m saying when you’re working you wear slacks, that’s all.”

  Wayne leaned forward to look in my eyes. I tried not to blink. His blue-green eyes were mesmerizing, and I felt for a moment like I was under the spell of a hypnotist.

  “Chelsea is with Germany now,” said Teeny. “Have you seen them around town? They’re such a cute couple.”

  Germany. Right. My boyfriend. I blinked and looked away from Wayne’s piercing gaze.

  “Of course Wayne has seen them together,” said Miss May. “It’s a small town.”

  “OK,” said Teeny. “Good to see you, Detective. Have a nice day.”

  Teeny took a step as if to go around Wayne. He blocked her path. “Not so fast, ladies. We have still have the issue of a certain dojo alarm to discuss.”

  Miss May nodded. “Oh, right. The alarm. Yeah. We heard it and we walked right over from Teeny’s restaurant. Got here before you did, in fact.”

  Wayne narrowed his eyes. “So you didn’t cause the alarm? You swear?”

  I scoffed. “Of course not. Why would we want to get inside Master Skinner’s dojo? It is suspicious that he’s not there today, sure, and he was really mad about not being the lead in the play, yeah. But he’s probably just sleeping in… Because… Everyone knows Master Skinner loves to sleep.” I cringed. Classic Chelsea babble.

  “Classic Chelsea babble,” Wayne said. “We all know Skinner is a suspect in this murder.”

  Teeny turned down the sides of her mouth. “I don’t know that. I don’t know anything. Wait. Someone was murdered?”

  Wayne rolled his eyes. “Look. You’re right. I wasn’t here when the alarm went off. I was getting coffee. So I can’t bring you in on breaking and entering.” Wayne peered around Miss May to get a look inside the dojo. “And the place looks untouched so I don’t feel the need to investigate further. But if Chief Flanagan were the one walking by today, with a fresh, steaming hot cup of coffee? She wouldn’t let you off so easy.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Miss May.

  Wayne nodded. “I’m sure you don’t. I’m sure you don’t have a fresh pie in your purse that you planned to use for bribing Master Skinner. And I’m sure you have no idea what I mean when I say you need to stay out of this investigation. Right?”

  Miss May offered her best doe-eyed stare. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Right. So let’s skip that whole dance. I’m not a good dancer anyway. Right, Chelsea?”

  I stammered. Wayne was a great dancer. And yes, once upon a time, Wayne and I had shared a romantic waltz in the event barn. And yes, I had wanted to date him for a while, and being in his arms felt safe and— Whoops, getting distracted.

  “As far as I recall, you’ve got two left feet,” I said.

  Wayne chuckled. He stepped aside and gestured with a sweep of his arm to let us pass. “You three should get on your way. Try not to set off any more alarms on your journey. Remember… Most cops aren’t as nice as I am.”

  Miss May, Teeny, and I edged past Wayne. I could smell his earthy, cinnamon cologne as I stepped past him back onto Commerce Street. I was thankful, at least that time, that Wayne had decided to let us go.

  11

  Sorry, Charlie

  Master Skinner lived in a split-level ranch just around the corner from the Pine Grove Elementary School. Although Skinner was a bachelor, the place was well-maintained. There were window boxes in every window. A crisp American flag hung from the porch. And the mailbox was hand-painted with the image of a karate master meditating.

  The mid-mo
rning sun flooded the well-kept lawn as Miss May, Teeny, and I approached. Although it was late March, and spring was around the corner, the air was still cool and the ground was still muddy and squishy under my feet. I shoved my hands in my pockets, ready for April to come — hopefully without more showers.

  “Master Skinner’s house is so cute,” I said. “Not at all the minimalist design I’d expect from a karate bachelor.”

  Teeny nodded. “The man has great taste and an enormous attention to detail. I heard he painted the mailbox himself.”

  Miss May shook her head. “I heard the Johnson widow painted it for him for his birthday.”

  Teeny’s eyes widened. “Really? Were they an item?”

  “Not officially. But I heard from several sources that she paid him visits late at night and then again early in the morning.”

  Teeny chuckled. “You know everything that goes on in this town.”

  Miss May shot Teeny a look. “You were my source! You were the one who told me all that!”

  Teeny laughed. “I was? I forget how much I know sometimes. I hear so much gossip, some of it’s bound to go in one ear and get lost on its way out of my mouth.”

  “Me too,” said Miss May.

  “Me three. But between the two of you, there are very few secrets in Pine Grove.”

  Miss May nodded. “If only we knew who killed Adam Smith, we might know everything.” My aunt turned to me. “Are you feeling OK? Or are you still nervous about the potential donkey kick?”

  I shrugged. “It’s weird… I feel better. After leaving the dojo, I don’t know, I feel less stressed. I don’t know why.”

  Miss May looked at me over her glasses. “I know why.”

  I shook my head. “It has nothing to do with Wayne.”

  “Sure it doesn’t,” said Teeny. “Who would feel safe around a big, burly police officer? Not me.”

  I stammered. “OK, fine. Maybe I feel a little better knowing that Wayne is patrolling the streets. But that’s not because of my semi-romantic history with him. It’s because I’m glad to know Pine Grove has at least one decent police officer.”

  “Decent is generous,” said Miss May. “We solved every murder before him. Don’t forget that.”

  Miss May rang Master Skinner’s doorbell. “Master Skinner. It’s Chelsea, Teeny, and Miss May. Are you home?”

  I whispered. “Miss May. You’re just going to call out and announce us like that?”

  “We’re just delivering a pie, Chelsea. Nothing to be weird about.”

  “She is still scared about the donkey kick,” said Teeny.

  Miss May chuckled. Teeny chuckled right along with her. I glowered at the both of them.

  Ten seconds later, and the front door opened. There stood Master Skinner. But he wasn’t wearing his typical gi. Instead, he was dressed like a southern gentleman, wearing a cotton suit with a straw hat. And he had a pipe in his mouth.

  “Master Skinner,” I said, startled. “You look like you’re ready for a performance of…something.”

  Master Skinner replied in a slow, southern drawl. “Now I’m not quite sure I know of which play you speak, young lady. I’m just living my life down here in beautiful Charleston, South Carolina. There’s trouble afoot but I’m an honest man and I’m determined to make an honest living.”

  I glanced over at Teeny and Miss May. They both looked like they were holding in laughter.

  “Hi, Master Skinner,” said Teeny.

  Master Skinner chastised Teeny with a stern tone. “I do not know any Master Skinner. I’m a simple, southern man.”

  Miss May leaned over and whispered loudly enough for me to hear. “I think he’s in character for the play.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Of course. But the play might not even happen. And also…there’s no Southern gentleman in Phantom.”

  “All I know is that there will be a great performance in the high school auditorium this evening. That’s right,” Skinner said, in response to our shocked faces. “I was just informed by my friend, Germany. It’s official.”

  “Hold on,” I said. “Germany made the decision? He’s going ahead with the play tonight?”

  “I’m but a simple southern gentleman,” Skinner reiterated. “But I have heard of a performance in the high school auditorium.”

  “I’m confused,” said Teeny. “Will someone please explain to me what’s going on?”

  “Master Skinner is in character for the play tonight. He doesn’t want to break character so he’s acting like a southern gentleman for some reason, even though, like Chelsea said, the play is Phantom of the Opera. But he also wants us to go see him in the play…so he’s telling us that it’s in the high school auditorium instead of the theater where the murder happened,” said Miss May. Miss May turned to Master Skinner. “Is that right?”

  Master Skinner shrugged. “I’m sorry. I was just sitting down for tea. If you’d like to join me, that would be wonderful. Otherwise, you all best be on your way.”

  Miss May smiled. “We’d love to join you.”

  Master Skinner led us out to his back porch, where a gallon of sweet tea waited. He grabbed a few cups from the kitchen, filled them up with tea, and we all sat down.

  “So, Master Skinner,” said Miss May.

  Master Skinner held up his hand. “Call me Charlie. Charlie is my name.”

  Miss May shot me a confused look and continued. “OK, Charlie. We’re here to talk to you about the death of Adam Smith.”

  Master Skinner shook his head. “I was so saddened to hear of that tragedy. Terrible thing. Violence is never the answer. That’s what my little mama always said.”

  “That’s ironic coming from the man with the infamous donkey kick,” said Teeny.

  Master Skinner glared. “What was that?”

  Teeny sat straight up. “Nothing. Nevermind, Charlie.”

  “Pardon me,” I said, unable to contain myself, “but is Germany putting on a different play? I’m just confused because the lead in Phantom of the Opera is not a Southern gentleman named Charlie.”

  “I have never heard of this Phantom,” Master Skinner said. “I am but a humble Southern boy who rarely got to the thee-ater.”

  I stared at Master Skinner, baffled but impressed by his commitment. I guess everyone has their methods.

  “Anyway,” said Miss May. “We wanted to talk to you. See, we heard that the police suspect our friend Master Skinner of the murder. In fact, we saw Detective Wayne Hudson at Master Skinner’s dojo this morning. Snooping around.” So much for just delivering a pie.

  Master Skinner choked on his sweet tea. “Is that right? I do declare. Please, continue with your tale.”

  I nodded and picked up where Miss May had left off. “That’s right. Detective Hudson was at the dojo. He was suspicious. And it seemed like he wanted to arrest Master Skinner.”

  Master Skinner pounded his fist on the table. “Arrest? That is absurd. I believe I’ve met this Master Skinner, once or twice. Terrific fellow. And very tall.”

  Teeny scoffed. “Master Skinner is not tall.”

  Master Skinner glared. Teeny gulped. “He’s very tall. Master Skinner is a giant. Who am I to talk? People who live in short houses, am I right?”

  “So you came by my humble abode to gossip about police activity?” Charlie drawled.

  Miss May shook her head. “We were looking for Master Skinner. We thought he might be here. We didn’t want to gossip. But we thought it would be prudent to let him know he was a suspect.”

  Master Skinner shook his head. “These police are ridiculous. Who would suspect a gallant, very tall, local business leader like Master Skinner of murder?”

  “I would suspect him,” said Teeny. “He always seemed a little crazy to me. And he’s got an untrustworthy face. Plus, everyone knows he was hooking up with the Johnson widow. And I think he broke her heart. Which is not very nice.”

  Master Skinner stood with such force that he knocked his chair over. “That’s enough g
ossip in my home.” Impressively, he didn’t break his Southern character at all.

  Miss May held up her hands. “We’re not gossiping. We’re sorry. Teeny, tell Charlie you’re sorry.”

  Teeny nodded. “I’m sorry. I really am. Your acting is so good. I forgot that you’re not Charlie.”

  “I am Charlie.”

  “Right.” Teeny rubbed her head. “I’m sorry. I’m confused.”

  Master Skinner turned backwards and donkey kicked the back door open. It almost exploded off the hinges. “You may leave now.”

  Miss May, Teeny, and I hurried out. Master Skinner’s face reddened as we exited. “Never speak ill of Master Skinner again. You hear me? Or you’ll have to answer to Charlie!”

  “Sorry, Charlie,” Teeny called back.

  Master Skinner slammed the door and disappeared inside his house.

  I looked back at Master Skinner’s house before I climbed into Miss May’s VW bus. Master Skinner glared at us from the front window. I didn’t want to think that Master Skinner was guilty.

  But the whole Charlie routine was unsettling. And if Skinner was the killer, then I feared Adam would not be his last victim in Pine Grove.

  12

  Ewing Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet

  Miss May, Teeny, and I hurried out of Master Skinner’s house in a disoriented frenzy.

  Teeny darted out in front of us, running at full speed with her hands above her head. “Start the car. He’s out of his mind.”

  Miss May dug around in her purse. “I can’t find my keys.”

  “He’s going to donkey kick us without even spilling his sweet tea,” said Teeny. “Which was delicious, by the way.”

  “Talk about the sweet tea later.” I pointed at Miss May’s belt. “The keys are clipped to your pants.”

  Miss May unclipped the keys from her pants with a sigh of relief. She unlocked the VW bus and we piled in.

  “Drive faster,” said Teeny.