Crowning the Slug Queen (A Callie Stone Mystery Book 1)

by L. M. Fortin

  "Well, let me know. I'm at your disposal."

  He rang off. Callie looked over and found Grandma Minnie watching her. "I think you know a bit more than you told him on the phone."

  Callie shook her head. "Scooter, I mean, Scott, said he didn't want any details out yet. I'll be able to talk more about it in a day or two."

  "Scott is it?" said Coral.

  "Well, what else am I supposed to call him? He said he doesn't go by Scooter anymore. We didn't have any personal conversation, he just asked me about the case," said Callie.

  "Mmmm-hmmmm," said Grandma Minnie looking at her from under raised brows.

  Callie grabbed her phone and bag and escaped to the cottage for the night. Pulling a beer out of the fridge she sat down at the kitchen table and ran through her emails. Most were from her friends in New York, wondering why they hadn't heard from her in a few days. She had told almost no one she was leaving on vacation or escape or whatever this was. She spent a few minutes composing a sort of stock email explaining she was in between jobs and was taking a short break. Two of the emails were from her former coworkers. Bill had shut down her work email, so they were now reaching out to her in her personal in box. Both had the grace to at least first ask how she was before they began to beg for help on projects that had been left unfinished with her sudden departure.

  Her phone rang and she saw it was Mara, her friend and co-worker in New York. "Mara, why on earth are you calling so late? It's after midnight where you are."

  "Callie, it's so good to hear your voice," said Mara. "I wasn't sure what you were up to out there in the boondocks, so I thought I'd wait to try and call until a time I was pretty sure you'd be home. And I just got one of your emails, so I figured you were in work mode."

  "Hardly," said Callie. "I'm on vacation, remember?"

  "Well, if you want anything to come back to, just keep answering our emails and helping out, ok?"

  "What do you mean, 'come back to'?" asked Callie. "I've been fired and am now part of the unemployed."

  "I can't promise anything and I don't want to get your hopes up, but even though you've only been gone a few days, it's apparent you were the driving force behind a lot of projects. Your input and leadership are really missed."

  "That's spreading it a bit thick, don't you think? No one is indispensable," said Callie, although it felt nice to hear what Mara was saying.

  "Maybe not. And maybe if your departure had taken place in a more measured fashion we would have been able to manage. The suddenness of it though--I mean, something as simple as shipping our stuff back from the hotel in Baltimore to New York. You'd think no one else but you knew how to fill out a UPS label and tape a box shut. It was total chaos," said Mara.

  Callie wasn't sure if it felt nice being appreciated only for her box packing skills. Although the disorganization Mara mentioned occurred because Callie wasn't there to manage the box packing. "I'm sure the whole thing was very entertaining," she said.

  "You don't sound too sympathetic," Mara said. "But I can understand that. How's Oregon? Still got wild bears running through the streets? Or at least that's what Peter thought about it."

  "No bears, but there are lots of slugs," said Callie laughing. "Something else Peter wouldn't like."

  "Slugs? Ewww," said Mara. "Are you working in your mother's garden? I thought you hated that place!"

  "It's starting to grow on me. Life out here seems very, I don't know, comfortable," said Callie.

  "Don't go getting all countrified on me," said Mara. "I miss my city girl! Even if Bill doesn't get a clue and ask you back, there are plenty of jobs out here for someone with your skill set."

  She could feel her shoulders tighten in what she realized had been a normal posture and state of mind for her in New York. Always on the go, always looking to solve the next problem, even when it wasn't something of her own. Life in Skinner was different, not only in outlook, but it moved at a different pace. She didn't think she had really slowed down with the garden and the pageant on her plate, but life seemed less intense and more forgiving somehow.

  "I know. It's just a vacation," Callie said. They spoke for a few more minutes about work things and then Callie hung up.

  She grabbed an old Ludlum thriller from one of the bookshelves and went and read, lying under her grandmother's quilt until sleep took her.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  She slept through the night and woke when the alarm on her phone went off. She didn't shower, but instead dressed and put on her Coach gardening boots. Pulling her auburn hair into a pony tail, she thought to herself that 'Coach gardening boots' was some type of mutually exclusive phrase and in her other life, would be.

  First she headed out to the end of the garden where the barn was. Coral was already there. "Well, it's good to see you up so early!" she said.

  Callie laughed. "It must be all this good air and healthy food. What can I do to help today?"

  "You did a good job with the zucchini, so we've got a day or two before they are ready to pick again. Maybe take a basket and go look into the carrots and the cucumbers. I picked some butter lettuce yesterday and we can have a salad. Plus tomorrow is the mid-week farmer's market and I can take any leftovers and sell them."

  Callie grabbed one of the bushel size baskets and a pair of gloves and headed back outdoors. The morning was cool, as were most mornings in the Willamette Valley, but clear and the day promised to be bright and sunny.

  When she had left Oregon all those years ago, Callie hadn't realized how the mellow climate impacted life in Skinner. The town was located at the south end of the Willamette Valley, nestled between the Coast Mountain range and the Cascades. While other parts of Oregon featured windy and wet coast line or high desert, the valley was somewhat protected by the two mountain ranges and generally escaped any extreme weather. It rarely got above the 90's in the summer and in winter got enough snow for one or two days off of school. Of course, it was rainy sometimes, but she had read somewhere the total rainfall in Oregon generally equaled that in New York State. Only in Oregon, that rain was spread out all year long instead of just occurring in one or two seasons.

  She went to where she could see the fluffy leaf tops of the carrots and knelt in the dirt. Twenty minutes later she had managed to fill over half the basket and thought maybe she should move on to the cucumbers. She took her gloves off for a second and sat staring across the garden towards the hazelnut trees. It was quiet and she could hear the breeze ruffling the leaves.

  "It's only seven a.m. and already you're taking a break?" She looked up to see Scott McMillan standing on the path next to the carrot patch. He had taken off his suit jacket, but in his collared shirt and dress pants looked woefully out of place in the garden. She was amused to think that for this moment, she did fit in with the garden--not a thought for a city girl.

  "No, I've devastated the carrot patch enough and I thought I'd move on to the cucumbers," she said holding out her hand for help getting up.

  He reached out and pulled her up, but she lost her balance and ended up much closer to him than she intended. Again, she was surprised at how even they were in height. His body radiated heat in the cool morning air.

  "I seem to remember the garden was not your favorite place back in the day," he said with a smile, stepping smoothly backwards and increasing the distance between them.

  Regretfully, she released his hand. "No, I'm afraid I poured all my teenage rebellion into hating and avoiding this garden. At the time it seemed a very limiting place to be. All my dreams lay elsewhere," she said.

  "I didn't really have any rebellion in high school," he said. "In fact, I guess I was rather short sighted in that I would have stayed there forever. I didn't have any plans for life afterwards. Except to be a UO football player," he said.

  Callie remembered he had left high school and went to the University of Oregon, still living with his parents and dreaming of being a walk on college football player. "Yes, you went to the university and I di
dn't hear much of you after that. What happened in college? Did you get to play?"

  He shook his head. "No, I tried out, but being the top player at North Skinner and being even the worst player for the Ducks is a vast gulf. It was a real blow."

  "What did you do?"

  "I did what any kid lost in college does. I partied for a year or two and then my dad sat me down and said he wouldn't pay for any more college unless I settled down and got serious about it. I was dating Audrey and wanted a future for the both of us. One of my uncles is a policeman and I sort of liked what I saw in the things he got to do. So I studied criminal justice with the idea of finding a job in law enforcement. Even after all that's happened in my personal life, I still think I made a good choice."

  "What do you like about it the most? I mean, besides the chance to visit exotic locales like Coral Stone's garden."

  He cocked his head. "I guess its nice being able to help people you know. And the occasional chance to right something that's wrong. Although, I'm not sure I'd be happy if I'd ended up being a policeman anywhere other than in my hometown. It feels like I've found the place where my puzzle piece fits into the larger picture," he stopped. "I have no idea why I'm rambling on like this."

  Callie laughed. "I am in my business for the same reason you are--I like helping people. That also includes encouraging them to talk so I can learn all about them. But I'm assuming you aren't here for me to interrogate you."

  "No. After you left last night I spent some time talking with Wade, the stage manager. He told me he met you standing in some broken glass. You want to tell me what that's all about?" he asked, pulling out his notebook.

  "Yes, sorry--in all the confusion of finding a body last night I forgot to tell you. I got to the theater early and was reading through the applications, when up on stage behind the curtains, I heard somebody yell and then the sound of glass breaking. I met Wade there when I went to see what was up."

  "Did you hear what was said?"

  "Not at first. I think subconsciously I heard a part of a conversation, but then a woman's voice yelled out, 'None of these things are for you, so back off' and then the sound of breaking glass, like something had been dropped or thrown. Not a loud shatter like a window, but more like a wine glass."

  He seemed to ponder that for a second. "You're sure it was a woman's voice?"

  "Considering I am overseeing a pageant full of cross dressers, no, I can't say I'm 100% sure. However, I spoke with all of the pageant attendees during the practice and none of them seemed to match the yell I heard."

  "Wade had left the theater doors unlocked, so it's possible someone else was there and you didn't see them."

  "Yes, the right side stage door was closing as I came backstage."

  "Where did Wade come from?" Scott asked.

  "He came from stage left and was behind me. I'm assuming he came from the sound room."

  "Wade said you kept something from the floor."

  "It's in my bag. We can go over to the cottage and get it." She grabbed the half full basket of carrots and together they stopped off at the house.

  Grandma Minnie was in the kitchen, a devilish light in her eyes. "So I see he found you."

  Callie nodded, conscious of Scott standing behind her. "He had a couple of questions about last night at practice. I thought you might want to get started on preparing the carrots for the Farmer's Market." When the left the kitchen, she saw Grandma Minnie grinning from ear to ear.

  Callie was relieved to think she had left the cottage neat. Bed made and no dirty underwear lying about. Her empty bottle of Liquid Sunshine Lager was sitting on the counter. "Are you a devotee of our local brews?" Scott asked pointing to the bottle.

  "They're growing on me. Actually that's how I got involved in the pageant. I stopped by the Cloudburst for dinner and met Jeremy Bilson. He's on the committee and offered me the job."

  Scott walked around the cottage looking at the books on the myriad number of bookshelves as she searched through her bag, and in the bottom she found the chunk of glass still wrapped in tissue. "The only people who touched this were me and Wade. And of course whoever broke it."

  He unwrapped the tissue and looked at the spiraled piece of glass without handling it. "Do you know what it is?" she asked. "Wade and I were mystified. We thought it looked more decorative than useful."

  "It's the end of a pipe. A custom pipe used to smoke meth or whatever drug is handy," he said.

  "That fits into Molluska being one of the people in the argument as you think she was a drug abuser. I wonder who is the other person then? Sheldon Normal used to run shop selling this type of paraphernalia, didn't he?"

  Scott looked at her sharply. "Don't go trying to solve this case, all right? Leave it to the professionals. This piece of glass might lead to Sheldon or it might not. We'll run some tests on it back at the lab."

  "Of course," she said guiltily remembering her intent to go see Steven Felson. She wouldn't want to spread gossip about the mayor's husband if there were no truth to it. She didn't want to share such a small supposition with the detective as it likely wouldn't pan out to anything. Besides, she thought, the police had the same information she did. They had probably already seen it themselves and discounted it as meaningless.

  Scott carefully wrapped the glass back up into its tissue and placed it in a plastic baggie. "We'll have to test this for fingerprints. Can you come down to the station later today? We'll need yours and Wade's as you've touched this. Then we can see if anyone else has."

  "Certainly. I was planning on going into town to meet with the committee and find out if we're going forward with the pageant."

  Scott shook his head. "Don't expect a little thing like death to put a stop to Skinner Days. If they do move forward, be careful. There's someone out there who had a reason to kill. It's possibly drug related, so it most likely has nothing to do with the pageant. It'd be nice to think they'll stop at one, but keep your eyes open in case they don't. I have to go now--I need to get this pipe back to the station and to the lab."

  "Come back and one day I'll give you the grand tour of the farm," said Callie. "We have a new goat."

  "I'll keep that in mind," he said, smiling.

  Although it seemed odd to do this right after Scott had left, Callie decided to call Audrey Wolcott. She had thought about her a few times while she had been home and now found herself curious as to how her old friend was doing.

  Callie looked up her number online and called. A hoarse voice answered, "Hello?"

  "Audrey, is that you? This is Callie Stone."

  "Callie? It's been so long since I heard your voice I didn't even recognize it on the phone." Audrey sounded pleased.

  "I'm in town for a couple of weeks and I wondered if you wanted to get together. We could go out and paint the town red."

  "With the kids it's awful hard for me to get out," said Audrey. "But I'd really like to see you. Would you mind coming here?"

  "No. I was just about to go into town. Why don’t I bring lunch?" Audrey agreed and gave her directions.

  Callie went back out to the barn, got another bushel basket, and picked some more vegetables. She knew that market day was when her mom reaped any monetary profits from the garden and it wouldn't help to have the vegetables still on the vine.

  Afterwards, Callie showered and dressed for a trip into town. She put on a cream Ralph Lauren tank top and her non-gardening jeans with her Burberry sneakers. She stopped by the kitchen and let Grandma Minnie know she wouldn't be back for lunch. "How do you keep managing to miss meals?"

  Callie grinned. "Lucky I guess."

  Grandma Minnie asked, "And how was your visit with detective Scooter? He seemed very nice."

  "It was entirely professional," said Callie. Except for the part where she had invited him back for a visit and then immediately decided to check out his ex-wife, she thought.

  "Mmmm-hmmm," said Grandma Minnie, her gray bun bobbing up and down as she nodded her head. "Have a n
ice time in town."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  It was after eleven a.m. and Callie decided to head over to the library to see if she could catch Steven Felson at work. She didn't have a library card anymore, but she didn't intend on checking anything out anyway. She parked in the public garage that hadn't been there when she had been a kid. Even the library has to change sometimes, she thought.

  The library was located across from the bus station in the heart of downtown. Callie thought libraries in general were a bit of a dichotomy in a town like Skinner. On one hand, they were repositories of socialism--holding the knowledge of the ages, allowing anyone with the reading skills any knowledge they sought, whether it was farming, bombing or documentary film making. On the other hand, libraries were paid for and supported by taxes and the government. Here were all these free thinking types who came to the library in order to find the information necessary to be free thinkers and anarchists. She wondered if they ever thought on the irony of it.

  She entered the library and almost immediately saw Steven. This was the first time she had seen him in his real persona and not just in a photo or in make-up and she didn't think he looked well. His eyes were red rimmed and she wondered what had upset him so much. Maybe the death of Molluska?

  She got in the short line because she really didn't want to call attention to herself and waited until he was free. "Hello, I was wondering what were the residency requirements for a library card?"

  Steven took one look at her and his eyes began to fill with tears. "Oh, my...Callie, isn't it terrible? What happened at the pageant?"

  She looked around and saw a small alcove off to the left where there was a pair of comfortable chairs. "Let's go over here so you can compose yourself. I have some tissues in my purse."

  He called one of the other librarians over to take his place and they walked over to the lounge chairs. Callie handed him a tissue.