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

by L. M. Fortin

  "I don’t know her motive, but you should go to her auto body shop," she said.

  "Auto body shop? What are you talking about?" he asked.

  "She and Steven have been sharing a car because hers is being worked on. Steven said she hit a deer some two months ago and had waited to take it in to the shop. I bet her car hit something more than a deer. You could take a look at that without involving her, right?"

  "At least that's something concrete," he said. "I just hope you're right about this as I’m going to have to justify investigating the mayor’s car somewhere down the road."

  He pulled out his cell phone and made a call. As he spoke, he turned his back to her and absentmindedly began to pace. She stood there feeling somewhat useless.

  "Callie?!" A sharp voice interrupted her concerns for how Scott was going to find evidence on Dot. Kit Carter, in a full tuxedo with a jaunty checkered black bow tie, stood in front of her.

  "Kit? It's nice to see you. You look great!"

  He smiled patronizingly and smoothed back his hair. "Well, it's the best look Skinner will see tonight, I'm certain."

  "Are you ready? Is there anything I can get you?" Belatedly Callie remembered she had a beauty pageant to run. She'd given Scott all the help she could and now she needed to focus on her own job.

  "Yes. I thought you said something about a hat and cane? Would you be able to get them before the run through begins?"

  After her last adventure in the storeroom with the smoke, Callie had relegated the procurement of the hat and cane to Wade.

  "Yes, let me get it and I'll bring it to you. Will you be on the catwalk?"

  "Where else, darling? That was an inspired idea, by the way. It's like bringing a little taste of fashion week to Skinner."

  She nodded her thanks. "That was the idea. I'll be back in a few moments." She called Wade on her cell. "Wade, were you able to find a hat and cane?"

  "Yes, I did, but I forgot to bring it out here. It's in the control room backstage. I'm sort of tied up, would you mind going and getting it?"

  "No problem," she said. "I want to see Kit Carter in all his glory."

  He laughed and hung up. Callie left the lobby area and went into the theater.

  The lights in the auditorium weren't on, as the current focus was the set-up of the Slug Queen pageant stage and catwalk in the lobby. She climbed the stairs on the left of the stage and went into the control room. Sitting on Wade's chair were the black top hat and a black and white cane.

  Emerging from the room Callie returned to the stairs, but stopped when she heard a noise from above. She sighed to herself. Even though she had instructed all of the stage crew to be working on the catwalk set, some independent minded soul must have come in here to start working on the concert lighting.

  Something hit the stage with a clatter. Expecting to see a tool or piece of rigging, Callie was surprised to see a shoe. It was a black peep toe heel with the distinctive red sole of a Louboutin. Callie picked it up. Callie knew there was only one person likely to be at the slug pageant with those shoes. She looked up into the rigging and wondered what Dot Felson was doing up there. Now that she was directly underneath the metal walkway, she heard sounds of a struggle coming from above. A voice called out, "Help!" but ended in a strangled gasp. Callie recognized the voice of Steven Felson.

  Something clicked in Callie's mind. If Dot killed Steven and made his death look like a suicide, he could be a scapegoat for everything. His involvement with Alex Herrman was easy to prove and there were even witnesses that knew he spent time with her. As Dot was involved in selling drugs to Alex and others, she was probably thinking she could somehow pawn that off on Steven as well. What motive Steven had for killing Alex would be defined by Dot. She'd say he killed himself because he was depressed over losing her and couldn't live with himself anymore.

  Callie knew she only had a few minutes. She put down the shoe and hat, but kept the cane as she had a vague idea she could use it for defense. She started to head towards the elevator, but realized that the noise of the door opening might give her away. Instead she went to the ladder that led up into the rigging. She stuck the cane through her belt loop. Ignoring the ladder’s safety harness, she quietly began to climb, hoping the struggles above would cover any sound her breathing made.

  There were only a few lights on as she reached the top of the ladder and climbed on to the metal walkway. She took a second to calm her labored breathing. If she was going to stay in Skinner, she needed to join a gym.

  She looked left and right, but didn't see anyone, so keeping low and hanging on to the railing, she crept to the left until she reached the first catwalk that crossed over the stage. Then she saw them. Steven Felson, recognizable by his Gastronia Creepalot attire, was lying flat out on the metal walkway. Dot was kneeling over him, her back to Callie. There was a pile of rope behind Dot and Callie realized Dot was wrapping it around Steven's neck.

  Callie crept closer, the cane now in her hand, until she was only a few feet from them. Dot, finished with Steven, and turned to grab the remainder of the rope. Callie realized she was going to tie it to the railing and then push Steven over the edge. Dot saw Callie. "What are you doing here?" she snarled. Without waiting for an answer, she pulled out a small pistol from her jacket pocket and aimed it at Callie.

  Callie swung the cane, hitting the gun as it went off. The shot harmlessly deflected to the side, but the force of the blow caused Callie to drop the cane. Dot aimed again, but Callie had moved closer and grabbed Dot's arm. They struggled, as Dot tried to move the barrel to an angle where she could fire and Callie kept trying to keep the muzzle from pointing at her.

  Scott's voice came from below. "Callie? Are you up there?"

  "It's Dot!" Callie cried, too out of breath to say more. Her arms, already tired from climbing the ladder, were not going to be winning any arm wrestling competitions, so Callie hoped she could hold out until Scott could get there.

  Suddenly, Dot looked down at her foot. Steven had woken up enough to reach out and grab Dot's ankle. She still had on the one shoe, but not for long. Steven managed to sweep that foot out away from the metal grid and over empty space. The shoe fell off. Dot cried, "My Louboutin!" and lost her balance. Dot let go of the gun and it went over the edge after the shoe. Callie backed up, ready to grab Dot if she tried anything else. Instead, Dot collapsed onto the metal walkway, all the fight gone out of her.

  “What’s going on, Dot?” Callie hoped conversation would stall any more action on Dot’s part until Scott arrived.

  "She was going to ruin it, you know? All my years of work and she thought she could just waltz in and take it from me.

  "Who?" asked Callie, although she thought she already knew.

  "Alex Herrman. She thought she could do in a year, what took me over a decade to build. She took Steven and she was trying to take my job."

  Callie shook her head, trying to seem commiserating. "But how could she have done that?"

  "She was threatening me with the drug sales. Using it to blackmail me and have me get her a place on the city council. She kept asking me if I knew what happened to Benny. But I knew what she was up to. She wouldn't have stopped until she was running for mayor. I wasn't going to let some foreigner take away all that I'd worked for."

  There was silence for a moment. Callie said, "Why were you involved in drugs?"

  "For most people they're harmless. It's the weak that get sucked in. I think of it as Darwinism in action. We’re all better with those losers drugged and out of the way. Do you know what the mayor of Skinner makes? A pittance! We get international attention because of our work on the environment and our activism, but the mayor still makes the salary of a two-bit town. A World Mayor needs to make a world salary. Why else would someone take all this?" She kept talking, now almost mumbling. Callie realized it was a conversation she must have had with herself numerous times. "Always trying to take what I have. Stupid Benny, always wanting more money, always wanting to take
what's mine. Take what I earned the hard way."

  Callie heard the opening of the elevator doors and looked back over her shoulder to see Scott and two uniformed policemen come running out.

  "Callie? Where's the gun? Are you alright? Everyone stay where they are."

  "The gun's on the stage floor. I'm fine, but I'm not sure about Steven."

  Scott approached the catwalk and entered it cautiously. "Mayor Felson? Do you want to come with me?"

  Dot rose to her feet, now shoeless, but still mumbling to herself. Stepping over Steven's now moaning form she went towards Scott, who escorted her to the elevator. One of the uniformed policemen handcuffed her. "Take her to the station. Carson, go down and secure the weapon that's lying somewhere on the stage," said Scott.

  Callie stepped around so she was in front of Steven and knelt down, unwinding the rope from around his neck. "Steven? Can you tell me where you're hurt?" Scott took off his jacket, folded it up and made a pillow that he gave to Callie. She put it under Steven’s head.

  Steven just groaned. There didn't seem to be any other injuries and he was breathing, but the red burn marks left by the rope that had been tied around his neck looked painful to Callie.

  She thought it ironic that the same blackmail tactics Dot had used on Sheldon, were in turn used against her. Maybe Alex would have been a good council member after all.

  Scott looked at her. "What happened? One minute you're telling me to look for the mayor, the next you're going mano-a-mano with her in mid-air. Why didn't you come and get me?"

  She shrugged. "It all happened so fast I was afraid she was going to push him off and I knew once that happened she had a chance of getting away with all of it."

  "You could have been shot, or worse, taken the quick way down to the stage," he said.

  "But I wasn't. I'm fine, Steven will be fine, and you've caught your murderer and drug dealer."

  He leaned over and grabbed her hand. "I am not fine. When that gunshot went off and I realized you were up here, I think I lost a few years off my life."

  "I'm sorry," Callie said, trying to ignore the warm sensations where her hand was touching his. "I'll try not to do it again."

  He shook his head. "I have my doubts about that. You seem like a magnet for trouble. For now though, I think you have a show to run. I'll stay up here with Steven until the EMT's arrive."

  "That's right--and I'm going to have to make adjustments, because I don't think he’s going to be doing his one man band act tonight."

  Callie carefully stepped over Steven and because of the narrow walkway, brushed by Scott. He grabbed her in a hug. "I'm glad you're alright." She hugged him in return.

  She took the elevator down retrieved the top hat from where she'd left it on the floor and found the cane a few feet away, no worse for wear. Dot Felson's peep toe heels remained mournfully on the stage.

  The lights shone down on the catwalk and the smoke machine had kicked in. Three mirrored disco balls shot bright rainbow reflections through the smoke as the three remaining contestants strutted, danced and preened through the competition. Callie had Kit tell the audience Steven's alter ego, Gastronia Creepalot, had fallen ill and would be unable to perform.

  The question and answer session, where the Old Queens quizzed the contestants went much as Callie thought it would. Queen Slugabeth II was rather tongue tied, although Bella Oozonia held her own. Slimerita Rivera was the clear victor in that portion.

  The talent competition surprised Callie. Callie was sure Queen Slugabeth II wouldn't be too popular and she was correct as the poetry reading was booed off of the stage after only two minutes. She thought the audience would favor Slimerita, if only for the community service aspect, but it was Bella's lasso and striptease that brought down the house. Maybe the crowd just favored the exotic. Slimerita Rivera's flamenco was hot, but Bella was hotter.

  Kit, looking dapper in his top hat and cane, walked over to the table where four of the Old Queens were sitting. They whispered back and forth to one another for a moment and then the Queen dressed as what Callie could only guess was a striped slug-like bumble bee handed Kit a small piece of paper.

  Drawing the moment out Kit turned and faced the crowd. Queen Slugabeth II, Bella Oozonia and Slimerita Rivera stood behind him. “Aaaand, the new Skinner Slug Queen is….Bella Oozonia!”

  Bella, clad only in her camouflage bikini, thrust a fist in the air. From the deafening cheers coming from four brawny men in the second row, Callie thought Bella’s brothers didn’t mind losing their bet.

  As there were two uniformed policemen waiting for Sheldon Normal off stage at the end of the pageant, Callie was glad he hadn’t won. It would be tough to perform Slug Queen duties from prison and with charges against him for dealing meth, he probably wouldn’t get the same sweet deal he had gotten before.

  The crowd was slowly filtering out of the Newsome Center into the rainy night, ready to continue the Skinner Days partying at local bars. Callie sat in a chair a few rows back from the stage, tired, but relieved that the event had managed to go without a hitch, if you discounted the attempted murder by the mayor.

  Scott came and sat down in the seat next to her. “I hope that’s all the big city style you bring to Skinner. I don’t think I could take many days like that.”

  Callie laughed. “Totally not my fault. All these things started months ago, long before I was even thinking about making a visit. I just happened to be here when the can of worms opened and spilled, so to speak. What’s going to happen to Dot Felson?”

  “It will take a few days to pull together the evidence, but she’s pretty much confessed to killing Benny Green, so at least we have her on that. She seems to have become a little unhinged, so I’m not sure she’ll ever stand trial. She wouldn’t even stop crying until we brought her the shoes that she lost on stage.”

  “What about Alex’s death?”

  “That one’s a little more squirrelly. Dot hasn’t admitted to killing her, although it’s apparent she felt Alex was a threat to her. The evidence on that is all circumstantial without a confession. But with Benny’s death, she’ll either be in prison or at a mental institution and off the streets.”

  He hesitated for a second and Callie thought he seemed nervous. He said, "Some of us are going out tomorrow and meeting at the Cloudburst. Want to come along?"

  "Are you asking me out on a date?" she asked.

  See, that's what drives me crazy about you. Always with the direct questions. Always the planner. Can't you take things as they come? Moment by moment? No pattern, no plan, no intuition?"

  She thought of her decision to stay in Skinner, which she hadn't told him of yet. "Yes, I can try that."

  "So don't consider this a date. Let's just get together and see if we can jettison all those high school memories and start like we never knew each other."

  "Scooter, I don't know if I can remember to always call you Scott," she said.

  "I think I can live with the occasional Scooter. As long as I can call you Carline from time to time."

  She laughed. "I think I can live with that."

  He kissed her on the cheek. "I'll pick you up at six."

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I don’t believe there is any type of art that is created in a vacuum. Although at times, writing can feel like a very solitary business, no writer would prosper without a community of people to support them. Thanks to Brian Alvstad, Julia Sherman, Stephen King, Brooke Millet Montgomery and Kim Evans who were so willing to step forward and read the work of a new author that I felt very heartened. Sometimes, encouragement like that is more important than actually reading the book.

  I’d also like to acknowledge the people who kept telling me I could be a writer when I didn’t believe it myself, and listened to me over all the years I have wanted to do this: Brian Alvstad, Yvetta Myers, and Joe McLamb.

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