Murder in Gatlinburg

by Steve Demaree

  "Well, something already looks severe."

  "I might as well tell you. I just got a message."

  The message Lou was referring to was a message he had always received each time someone was murdered during our years in the homicide department. Each day, until the case was solved, he received a new thought, which had something to do with the murder. I called them his messages from God, because they always helped us in our case.

  "Okay, what's the message?"

  "Last trip."

  "Last trip?"

  "That's what I said."

  "Do you think it might mean that we won't like this vacation, and it will be the last one we take? Or maybe it means the bus driver is retiring. He looks worn out enough to retire."

  "He doesn't look that old."

  "That's because you're comparing him to the AARP crowd we're traveling with.”

  "Most of these people are our age or younger. You know how it is these days. Some people are able to invest their money wisely and can retire earlier."

  "What economy are you talking about?"

  "Okay, forget the fact that he's retiring. So, what do you think, Lou?"

  Lou never liked it when I asked him what something meant, just after he had gotten the message.

  "I think that you and I are retired, so we aren't getting any more murder clues."

  "So, why did you get this one? Which one do you think? Will this be our last vacation or is the bus driver retiring?"

  "Right now I'm leaning toward our last vacation. At least our last one together."

  "Don't get huffy. If you do I'll make you sit up front with the old biddy."

  "Sorry! I guess I'm a little nervous about taking this vacation."

  "And I thought I was the one who was nervous about taking this vacation, and retiring so young."

  "Who said I'm nervous about retiring this soon?"

  "You'll feel better when God sends you a 'Gotcha' text, saying He was just playing with your mind and there's no murder."

  "I don't think I'll feel any better until the bus driver passes out the muzzles."

  "Muzzles are passé. Today's crowd uses Crazy Glue Lip Balm or a burlap gag. Why don't you go up and introduce yourself to Miss Friendly."

  "She seemed more attracted to you, Cy."

  9

  Just after that I heard a strange noise, and it seemed to be coming from my body. It took me a little bit before I realized that I was getting a text. My first text, other than the parting message I received from my girlfriend Jennifer, which was for my eyes only. I was glad that Mark spent an afternoon with Lou and me walking us through how to use a cell phone. And then there were the repeated phone calls on my old-fashioned phone to ask him question after question when I couldn't figure something out. It might be a while before I get up the nerve to ask Mark what Skype is or does. All I know is that it sounds dangerous.

  I smiled when I saw I had received another message from George. I cringed when I looked at it and read what it said. Especially since I received it right after Lou got his message.

  I understand you have already had a murder on board.

  Once again I remembered George saying that he would have an informant on board. I assumed he was kidding, but I wished I had the opportunity to look every passenger in the face and see if any of them looked as devious as George. Maybe it was someone George arrested at some point and the guy had recently got out. Maybe George told the guy he would go easy on him as long as he did George a favor. And spying on Lou and me was that favor.

  I showed Lou the message. He looked even more constipated than he had when he received his message.

  "Lou, do you think God and George are working together?"

  "Now that would be quite the odd couple."

  "I don't think God would like us calling Him odd."

  "I'm not. George is the odd duck. And I don't think God and George are in cahoots."

  "Then we might be asked to solve a murder on this trip. Maybe someone has already been murdered."

  "I just checked. No one has fallen out into the aisle."

  "Maybe it was someone who didn't make it as far as the bus. Why don't you go scour the parking lot and see if there are any dead bodies?"

  "Do possums count?"

  "Most of them I know can't count."

  "Then we're fine. I covered the whole parking lot while you were spending an hour polishing Tweetie before we left."

  "It's Lightning, and I spent only a minute saying goodbye, and I just patted her on her fender."

  "Well, just remember not to pat any of these old biddies on their fenders. They might like it."

  "I don't plan on it. I'm going up and ask Mr. Warmth if everyone is here. If he says, 'yes'. then I'll check out all the passengers on the way back, make sure none of them have been poisoned. Maybe you can check out the restroom while I'm gone, just in case the body is in there."

  Before Lou could answer, I stood up and stepped over him. I could do that better since I lost a bunch of weight. I walked up the aisle like I was John Wayne, or maybe Gary Cooper in High Noon.

  "Hey, Earl, how's it going?"

  The bus driver seemed oblivious that I was almost upon him. When he spotted me, he jumped.

  "Sorry, but I did call you by name."

  "I guess I didn't hear you. I was looking in my side mirror, concentrating on some strange-looking guy who is darting in and out of the shadows. I might not have noticed him if he didn't have a severe limp. For a minute I thought he looked familiar."

  "Yeah, I know the guy you're talking about. We saw him on the way to the bus. He looks creepy. Anyway, sorry to bother you. I was just checking to see if all the passengers are here."

  "They are now," he said as he stepped by me and down the steps to help a woman running toward the bus with her luggage.

  Abandoned, I pirouetted, kept my balance, and started back to my seat, checking out each passenger in the dim light. I was fine until I looked at the woman in the third seat behind the driver. I looked down at a woman who didn't appear to be breathing. She was as still as could be. And then I recognized her. It was Miss Friendly, the woman who got on the bus before us. I wondered if it could be an answer to prayer, and then remembered that I hadn't prayed for her demise. I knew better than to do that. I stood there, studying her. She never moved.

  I didn't know what to do, but that didn't stop me from flying into action. I bent over, put my ear as close to her nostrils as I could, to find out if I could hear or feel anything. It only took a moment for me to feel something. Her elbow connected with my ear. If I had faced her, she could have broken my nose or blackened my eye. Or both. Considering I didn't see the blow coming, I lost my balance. I fell into her lap, which smelled like mothballs. Quickly, I tried to get up, and she gave me some assistance. As I stumbled back she called me a couple of names that I didn't think described me all that well.

  The push sent me backward into a prone position. I was dazed, but I heard a woman say, "No, he's mine. He landed on my lap first."

  I opened my eyes and looked up. It was true. People on vacation do smile. Two women were grinning at me like a cannibal who hadn't had a meal in a while. One of them started running her hands through my hair. The other one's index finger was navigating the interior of my ear.

  I heard one of them say, "He's cute, and I think he has a friend. You can have his friend."

  I struggled to my feet and hoped that everyone else on board was occupied elsewhere. Their smiles told me they were ready for a group picture. Behind me I heard someone coming up the steps into the bus, so I headed back to my seat, aided by a push in the back by Miss Friendly. As I passed a grinning Lou, I muttered, "I'm going to check out the restroom."

  "You might want to knock first."

  I did and heard no noise from inside. I opened the door, and God was with me, because no one else was. I stepped inside to recompose myself. While I was in the midst of this, the bus lurched, and we were on our way, but I had more recompo
sing to do.

  10

  I gave everyone a couple of minutes to occupy their minds elsewhere. I was about to step out when I heard a knock down low on the door. I opened the door a crack, and saw the little boy standing there, moving from one foot to the other.

  "Mister, are you about through? I gotta go."

  I stepped out and around him and saw that most of my fellow passengers' minds weren't occupied elsewhere. They appeared to be friendlier than I was at that moment. They grinned at me. Lou too was a little friendlier when I reclaimed my seat than I had hoped he would be. He turned to me and uttered only one word.

  "Well?"

  "Six victims so far. A couple appeared to have been poisoned. Two were stabbed and had bled all over the seat. The bus will have to be disinfected. One passenger died from a gunshot to the head. One had a rope around his neck. It had been pulled pretty tight. His color wasn't good, and his tongue was sticking out of his mouth at an odd angle. And one guy had a woman in handcuffs."

  "Really? From what I could see from my obstructed view seat, it looked like you were the only victim."

  "I guess you had to be closer to the action to see all that went down."

  "Evidently."

  "So, Lou, what do you think the message means?"

  "So far my vote is for your taking no more vacations."

  "Or at least go with a different crowd next time. At least I didn't see anyone that we'd put away over the years. Of course the light wasn't all that good. What was our other possibility?"

  "That the bus driver was retiring."

  "I can't say that I think he's shy or retiring. Just that he doesn't talk much. Maybe his last job was as an engineer. Or maybe a mime."

  "I think your next one needs to be as a mime."

  I tuned out Lou and gathered my thoughts. I hit myself on the forehead with the palm of my hand.

  "I don't remember seeing any mime do that."

  "Me, either. But I just remembered that I failed to linger long enough to check out the last passenger. Maybe the murderer arrived last so she wouldn't be considered a suspect."

  "Or first, to have been forgotten."

  "That's it. The bus driver is the murderer, and he will come back through the bus murdering people one seat at a time. Has that kid come out of the mini-restroom yet? If so, I believe I'll wait in the restroom cubicle until the murdering is over."

  Lou didn't answer, so I considered it a good time to begin my mime impersonation. Or at least remember that I too had the right to remain silent, and sometimes I did my best thinking when I wasn't talking. I shook my head to get the cobwebs out, then focused in on the last passenger to board the bus. I didn't pay any attention to where she sat, but I was pretty sure she didn't pass our seats. If so, she did so while I was in the restroom. I just knew that if I got up again, Earl might throw me off the bus, and I'd miss my free vacation. Besides, I doubted if anyone planned to murder someone else while we were cruising down the road. Lou spoke and interrupted my thoughts.

  "I see you made some new friends."

  "I assume you mean the two women whose laps Miss Friendly pushed me into."

  "From my seat it looked like you dived toward them willingly."

  "Well, you did mention that you had an obstructed-view seat, But yeah, a couple of friendlier ones said they'd like to get to know you."

  "I can understand that. Women find me quite charming. And it looks like they've already gotten to know you. I think you still have a few hairs out of place."

  "Let's change the subject."

  "Okay, did you find any dead bodies on your trip to the front?"

  "I thought we'd already covered that."

  "We did. I'm giving you a second chance to come clean. There were too many victims the first time."

  "One, Miss Friendly, appeared to be dead until she did her Lazarus routine. I don't keep up with current events, but I think she's the wrestling champion of her nursing home."

  "Cy, I think she's only a few years older than we are. Maybe she'll warm up once you get to know her."

  "I don't plan to get to know her, so you can have her. You should have been the one to go up and meet her. After all, you're the one who got the message. And if you get any more messages, don't bother to share them with me."

  As I said that, I received my third message from George. He asked me if we'd solved the murder yet, or if we needed him to come and solve it for us, like usual. I was glad that Lou forgot to get up and snap a picture of me during my dilemma. If so, it would be trending right now. But who am I to say? I'm not sure what trending means, but I think it means popular at the moment. You have to remember. I'm still a babe in the world of technology. I still have much to learn.

  I didn't have long to chuckle over George's text, because I received one from someone else. This one was from Heather, telling us how much she missed us, and that no one had been murdered in Hilldale since we left town yesterday. It looked like all the murders, and maybe all the murderers were following us, only we weren't sure who they were yet. We hadn't even been able to identify the victim. Either no one had murdered anyone yet, or the victim wasn't on the bus. Maybe when Lou and I check in at the place where we're staying there will be a body in his room or mine. If so, I hope it's his room. After all, God gave him the message.

  +++

  I turned and looked out the window. From what I could tell, our fellow passengers had forgotten my faux pas. The bus had turned onto I-75 and headed south, past all the Lexington exits. I wondered if my life too was headed south, considering that working for the police department and solving murders was all I knew. I doubted if anyone would pay me to solve murders in mystery novels for them.

  I quit thinking about the few things I had done with my life and thought about all the things I hadn't done. That list was more extensive. I hadn't remarried after Eunice died, never even dated seriously. Until now, I had never gone on a vacation. The first few years it didn't seem right that I should have fun without Eunice, and after that I never thought about taking a vacation. Even as a kid I didn't do what other boys did. I never learned how to swim. Never played baseball. Never wanted a bike. At least I had a friend in Lou. He never did any of those things, either. Maybe Lou and I were born too soon. I could see myself sitting around texting all day, as long as I had learned how to text, like all of the other kids. At least, I assume that every kid today knows how to do that.

  I must have felt sorry for myself longer than I thought, because I looked up and there were hills on both sides of us. I looked at them for a while, and watched the cars that passed us. One thing about riding on a bus is that you are high enough that you can look down and see if the woman in the passenger seat has a nice pair of legs. I must have tired of that easily because I dozed off. The next thing I knew someone was shaking me. Luckily it was Lou and not one of the three women I'd encountered earlier.

  "Hey, Cy, we're in Tennessee. We're at the Welcome Center. Let's get off and stretch our legs."

  It took me a few minutes to get my legs to cooperate, but soon I was up and walking. To make sure that one leg didn't go limp on me I clutched each seat as I passed it. Unless the murderer was hiding in the bus's restroom cubicle, we were the last two off the bus. Well, the last two except for the driver. He got off behind us and shut the door. He looked around, checked out each new vehicle that pulled in, like he was afraid someone was coming to shoot him. I noticed that several people in our crowd looked like someone who was trying to go cold turkey and give up smoking or drinking. Some of them looked as nervous as a nudist trying to crawl through a barbed wire fence. I wondered how many of them had murdered someone, or was about to.

  Other than stretching our legs, there were three things my fellow passengers and I could do at the Welcome Center. Some headed to the restrooms, which were at least one step up from the cramped one on the bus. At least there were more seats, but I wouldn't recommend the stalls in the men's restroom to anyone suffering from claustrophobia. They were
so small you had to back in or back out. Except for the one marked "handicapped."

  Others from our group headed to check out all the pamphlets that gave us suggestions on what to do while in Tennessee. There were well over one hundred of them. Suggestions, that is. It looked like everyone who was trying to make money had a pamphlet there, hoping we would choose their place as an attraction where we would spend our money. We had an itinerary of what we would do in Tennessee, but we would have some free time, so Lou and I decided to look for pamphlets we didn't already have, and ones that were in either Gatlinburg or Pigeon Forge, the two towns we would visit while we were there. I selected a few that I would use for reading material until we arrived at our first stop.

  11

  Lou told me the bus driver said we had fifteen minutes to do whatever we had to do, and as we finished perusing the pamphlets from all the places that wanted some of our money, my stomach growled. I remembered that we hadn't eaten, so I headed for the vending machines to get something to eat and drink. I hoped that when I bit into something it didn't taste like it was just past stale. I didn't remember ever seeing someone restocking the machines at rest stops, but when you don't travel you don't see a lot of rest stops. I wanted just a little something to eat and drink. Just something to hold me over until we arrived at the Applewood Farmhouse, the restaurant in Sevierville where we would eat our late breakfast.

  I should have gone to get my nourishment first. The two middle-aged women on whom I'd done my lap dance were getting their sustenance, too. There were other people around, so the two women didn't jump me. They merely grinned and waved goodbye as they walked away.

  I was observant as we walked around. I saw no blood coming from any restroom stall, no bloody handprints on any of the pamphlets, and nothing out of the ordinary while I checked out the possibilities at the vending machines. Of course I didn't check out the women's restroom. I recommended it to Lou, but he refrained. Still, I told Lou I wanted to be one of the last ones to get back on the bus, so we could see if we lost any of our new friends at the rest stop.