by Diane Morlan
Before we left, I asked Jacobs, “Did you check out Bobby and where he was Thursday night?”
“Yes, Jennifer. I’m afraid that Sally lied to you. Bobby was at her house.”
“Maybe she just said that to get him off the hook.”
“Sorry. We checked with the neighbors and his Camaro was in her driveway until Sunday morning.”
I shook my head. “I’m glad he’s not the killer, but I’m so disappointed that Sally lied to me.”
Bernie looked at me and crossed her arms over her chest. “She probably lied because it was none of your business.”
“Bernie, I was trying to help you.”
“I know. But in the process you stuck your nose in where you had no business and you snuck into my office to retrieve information that I had kept in confidence for years.”
Jacobs and I both looked at her open-mouthed.
I asked, “How did you know?”
“One of the ushers at Mass saw you coming up from downstairs. He thought you had been down there to see me. It didn’t take much to figure out what you’d been up to. I’m very disappointed in you, Jennifer.”
“Oh, God, I’m sorry, Bernie. I just wanted to help.”
“I know and it’s the only reason that I’m still talking to you. But the Lieutenant is right. You need to butt out and let the police do their job.”
“Thank you very much, Sister Bernadine,” Jacobs said. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
Totally embarrassed, I stood up to leave. Jacobs held up a hand. “Wait a minute, Jennifer. Just what were you looking for and what did you find in Sr. Bernadine’s office?”
“That’s confidential, Lieutenant Jacobs,” Bernie said. “It was none of Jennifer’s business and it’s none of yours.”
“Does this information relate to this case or anyone involved in it?”
Bernie stood up next to me. “I can assure you, Lieutenant Jacobs, that Jennifer found no pertinent information that you are not already aware of.”
She bowed her veiled head toward him then turned and walked out of the room. I followed her but not before I saw Jacobs break out in a huge grin.
Along with being mortified at being “outed” by my friend in front of the police, I was disappointed to note that Detective Decker hadn’t shown up. I thought I might have a chance to explain to him what Edwin had been doing at my house last night.
Then I mentally slapped myself. I didn’t owe Decker any explanations. Who did he think he was to be upset by anything I did? I mentally jumped on my high horse and rode off into the sunset.
Jacobs accompanied us to the front desk. Bernie pulled opened the door and Detective Decker walked in. I melted. He was so darn cute.
I was so tuned in to Detective Decker that I didn’t notice that someone was with him. Trailing behind him, head bowed was my about-to-be-ex-husband. How nice.
“Edwin, what are you doing here?”
“Ask your friend here. He thinks I killed Marty and started the fire at your place last night.”
Detective Decker turned and put his hands on his hips. “As a matter of fact, Mr. Heinz, I asked you to come in and talk to us about the events you witnessed yesterday. But you have to admit, you’re in the middle of two serious incidents.”
“Talk to my wife here. She’s been at the same places I have.”
I jumped into the fray. “I beg your pardon. Do you honestly think I set my own house on fire? And don’t call me your wife.”
“Who knows what you might do? You’ve been a little crazy lately.”
“Not so crazy that you didn’t come running to me when you need a place to sleep. And how did you get into my room last night? I know I locked that door.”
Edwin flashed me a nasty grin before he turned away from me and spoke to Detective Decker. “Let’s get this over with. I have things to do.”
Detective Decker nodded his head, and took Edwin by the arm. They turned and walked through the door marked, “No Admittance” that we had just left. I was glad the room smelled of urine. It would annoy Edwin and, if I was lucky, might even start aggravating his allergies. I grabbed Bernie’s hand and sashayed out the door.
Bernie and I stopped for quick burgers at Chick’s Drive-In. While sitting in the car munching on fries, I told Bernie about the conversation Megan and I had with Lisa Vetter earlier in the day.
“What were you doing at the Fest Grounds after everyone else left?” I asked.
“Oh, good Lord. Thank goodness you didn’t mention that while we were at the Sheriff’s Office. Jacobs would have put me in a cell.”
“So, what were you doing there?”
“Why do you think it’s any of your business, Jennifer? Have you forgotten already that you promised Jacobs to butt out of his investigation?”
“I didn’t promise anyone anything. I just listened to you two berate me for trying to keep you out of jail!”
“You’re right.” Bernie’s shoulder’s sagged and she looked me right in the eye.
“I was looking for Natalie Younger.”
“Natalie? What on earth did you want with her?”
“She called me. She was a little drunk and got melancholy. I found her and drove her home. She was crying about being single. She took care of her sick mother for years, you know. She’s a very lonely woman, Jennifer. She never had a husband or children and now she feels that life has passed her by.”
“I never thought of her that way, Bernie. I just think of her as a gossipy pain in the rear.”
“She’s feeling desperate, Jennifer. She wants what she thinks is a normal life. I’ve been telling her for years that there are other worthy routes for women to take besides marriage and family. Her job at the newspaper office isn’t fulfilling for her, although I’ve never met anyone who can proofread better than her.”
“So, what advise did you give her?”
“None. You can’t reason with someone who’s drunk. I just took her home and made her promise to call me later.”
“Did she?” I asked.
“No. And she probably won’t until she’s feeling desperate again. I probably should call her but this has been going on for years. I keep trying to get her to go back to school and finish her degree, but she’s afraid. I think maybe she’s comfortable in her rut. Or perhaps she still thinks that her white knight will ride in and take her away from it all.”
“Wow! I never knew.”
“And you don’t know now, Jennifer.” Bernie began wagging her finger at me again. “You keep your mouth shut about this and about Sally. Just because you know things doesn’t mean you have to tell anyone. Not even Megan.”
“But Megan wouldn’t tell anyone—”
“It doesn’t matter. You just keep this to yourself.
“Okay,” I replied. “My lips are sealed.”
I dropped off Bernie at the church and decided to check out Oma’ Attic for the beer stein. I pulled into the parking lot in front of the second-hand store.
The building looked like it was previously a fish and chips franchise. A new coat of red and white paint spruced it up. I walked up the ramp and opened the door, expecting to see clothing and Christmas ornaments. What a surprise. Three neat book cases held second hand books of all kinds, sorted by fiction and non-fiction then shelved by author’s last name. I picked up a couple Denise Swanson mysteries that I hadn’t yet read.
The rest of the store held glass topped counters with a variety of objects in them. Each case had its own theme. One held jewelry, another held glass figurines. I found a case that appeared to hold things with a German theme: clear glass beer mugs, German flags, a nutcracker, several hand-blown glass Christmas ornaments.
A teenage girl bounced up to me and said, “Can I help you?”
“Yes, I’m looking for a beer stein. Do you have any?”
“Gee, I don’t know. What’s a beer stein?”
Oh, boy. “It’s a mug with a lid and it usually has some sort of scene on it. Here l
et me show you a picture of the one I’m looking for.”
“Sure, fine,” she replied, checking out the chipped polish on her nails.
I pulled the picture that Laura had emailed me from my purse. “Do you have anything like this here?”
“Naw, I don’t think so. But you can look around if you want.”
I was surprised to find the sales clerk so uninterested when it was clear that someone cared a great deal about the display of the items for sale in the store.
“Who is Oma?” I asked.
“She’s my aunt. She had a doctor’s appointment today and my mom made me work here until she gets back.”
“Until who gets back? Your aunt or your mother?”
“My aunt. What difference does it make? Do you want to look around or not?”
“Not,” I said, setting the books down as I turned to walk out.
Just as I reached out my hand to open the door when it opened. I gave a surprised little yelp.
The woman who walked through the door wore her silver-white hair in a short bob. She reached out her hand and touched my arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“That’s okay I said, moving around her to go through the door.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
I looked at her and frowned. Why should she care, I thought?
She must have realized what I was thinking. “This is my shop. Can I help you?”
“You’re Oma?” Except for the hair color, she looked too young to be a grandmother.
“Well, I’m somebody’s Oma. I have three grandchildren. Yes, this is my store. What can I help you find?” She shoved her purse under the counter and looked at me expectantly.
“Here’s a picture of the beer stein I’m looking for.”
“Isn’t that lovely. I wish I had this stein here,” she said, handing the picture back to me. “It would sell in a minute. But, no I don’t have any steins here right now. I sold three of them last week, right before Polka Daze. I always sell a lot of German items this time of year.”
I picked up the paperback books I had abandoned and said, “I’ll take these.”
When I paid for my purchases, I gave her my card and asked her to call me if she came across the stein. She walked with me across the store and as she opened the door for me she said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you came. My niece isn’t very good at this but she was the only person I could find on short notice.”
“She said you were at the doctor’s office. Are you okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine. Just had to get a couple shots. My husband and I are going to Israel next week.”
“What a delightful reason to go to the doctor. Well, not the shots but a trip to Israel! I hope you have a fantastic vacation.”
“Oh, thank you. I’m sure we will.”
I walked back to my car with my purse swinging at my side. Israel! What a great place to visit. I had to put that on my “to-do-before-I-die” list. I tossed my purse on the seat and began to back out of my space when I glimpsed into the rearview mirror and saw movement.
I stomped on the brakes and watched my purse fly off the seat and roll under the dash. I jumped out and ran to the back of the car. There I found a run-away shopping cart from the hardware store next to Oma’s. The wind must have blown it across the parking lot. I moved it out of the way and got back in my car and drove home. I forgot about my purse until I pulled into my garage. When I looked down I saw the contents spilled all over the floor mat. I scooped everything up and just dumped back into my purse.
When I walked through the kitchen door, I noticed that smoky smell was mostly gone so I turned off the exhaust fans. Grabbing a basket, I threw some clothes in it and headed to the laundry room.
Tossing my smoke smelling laundry into the washer, I pulled off my sweater and threw it in with the other clothes—it had a pickle stain on the front. I came across the shirt I had worn the night Wes was killed. It needed more than detergent.
Aiming the nozzle of the stain remover at my shirt, I pressed the button. The can sputtered and spit out a little glob of foam. Impatiently, I trudged to the kitchen and looked under the sink for a new can.
The bright red can should’ve been easy to spot, but I couldn’t find it among the other spray cans there. I got down on my knees and reached to the back of the cabinet, knocking over a few cans.
Impatiently, I began pulling everything out of the cupboard. I found the ant killer, window cleaner, scrubbing bubbles, and finally the stain remover. Why hadn’t I seen it in there?
Déjà vu, all over again, to quote Yogi Berra. The red spray can. The red carabineer in Sister Bernadine’s office. The red knitting needle in Wes’ neck. Red looks black in the dark. A red cargo truck. Bingo!
I pulled the pickle-stained sweater back over my head dug in my purse for my cell phone. It wasn’t there. I dumped the purse out on the kitchen table. It definitely wasn’t there. The car! It was probably on the floor where my purse landed. I ran out to the garage and opened the passenger door. Nothing on the floor. I reached under the seat and grabbed something. When I pulled it out I saw that it was my checkbook. Where was my phone? Then I spotted my little navy blue phone tucked into the cup holder. I flipped it open and called the Sheriff’s Office as I walked back into the kitchen.
Angelia answered the phone. When I asked for Jacobs, she said, “He’s not in right now. May I take a message?”
“Angelia, this is Jennifer Penny, Sister Bernadine’s friend. Do you know where I can find him or Detective Decker?”
“Oh, hi, Ms. Penny. You know, I think Detective Decker said something to someone on his way out that he was going to the Fest Grounds. Although, I don’t know why. Polka Daze is over.”
I thanked her, and was about to hang up when she asked, “Do you want me to have either one of them to call you?”
“No, Angelia. But if you talk to them could you tell them that I went to the Fest Grounds?”
“Sure thing, Ms. Penny.”
I hung up and started shoving things from the kitchen table back into my purse. Then I stuck my cell phone in my pocket and took off for the Fest Grounds.
Cars and trucks were arriving and leaving the Fest Grounds when I arrived. Cars were now parked where just the day before food stands had sent out delicious aromas. I pulled up and parked right in front of the Home Arts Building.
When I stuck my head in, I saw a few vendors packing up their wares. They talked in hushed tones in this almost empty building. It was so unlike the hustle and bustle of the previous weekend. My coffee booth was completely gone. My efficient employees had arrived early and moved everything back to the warehouse to await the next festival or event.
Turning, I walked through the grounds. The smallest tent was rolled up and six men were picking it up to put it on a flat bed truck. The medium sized tent was down and several men stood around looking at it. Maybe they were waiting for it to do something.
I looked for Decker’s truck then realized he and Jacobs were probably in a squad car. I didn’t see any of those either. But if they were in an unmarked car, I wouldn’t recognize it. I had again run off without thinking things through and now I didn’t know what to do. I continued to walk through the grounds looking for Decker or Jacobs. Jacobs would stand out if he were here because he always wore a suit and the men here wore work clothes.
When I came to the largest tent, I saw a dozen men pulling on ropes attached to it. Someone was shouting orders. I watched as the huge canvas structure billowed in the wind, and then sank to the ground like a balloon losing air. The men gave a cheer when it settled like a huge white puddle.
When I turned to check out the Christmas Shop, the big double doors were both open and the red cargo truck from Metzger’s Meat Market was backed up and blocking one side of the entryway. Cautiously entering through the doublewide barn doors, my steps echoed through the small building. It no longer looked like a fairyland. The cement block walls were cracked. Th
e cold cement floor completed the bleakness, so different from the magical Christmas Shop.
Folded tables were lined up along one side of the room. Someone was stacking chairs against the other wall. I peeked into the back of the cargo truck and saw more folding chairs.
When the man stacking chairs turned, I saw that it was the Fest Meister. “Frank! What are you doing here?” I realized I was relieved that it was Frank and not Al.
“Hi, Ms. Penny. I’m just stacking the chairs from the small tent. This is where we store them.”
“I’m just surprised to see you with the truck. I thought that Al was the only one who used it.”
Frank smiled and took the toothpick from his mouth. “It seems that way to me sometimes, too. He sure likes this truck. But, I use it occasionally. Can I help you with something?”
“Maybe. Frank, I think Al may be in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“I think he may have tried to run me off the road the other night.”
“Why would he want to do that? Did you see the driver?”
“Not then, Frank, but I saw Al driving the truck as I left the Fest Grounds. One of the Princesses was sitting next to him. At first I thought the truck was a black or dark blue SUV, but I just figured out that red looks black in the night.”
“Why would my brother want to run you off the road?” Frank asked again.
“I’m not sure. I think Al may have gotten into it with Wes. I’m so sorry, Frank. But I think Al was involved in that bank robbery a few years ago. I think he needed the money for his portion of the meat market that he bought with you.”
“Aw, what are you talking about? Are you nuts? Al had a good job. He saved that money for his share and he invested it wisely.”
“Maybe you don’t know your brother as well as you think you do. People aren’t always as they appear.”
“No they aren’t, Missy. Why did you have to stick your nose into other people’s business?” Frank flashed a scornful grin that frightened me. Suddenly this sweet little man looked intimidating. Something flashed as he pulled his hand out of his pocket. By the time I realized what he was doing, he had flipped open a menacing knife with a needle sharp point. Grabbing my arm he pulled me closer.