Snakes & Snails and Deadly Cattails

by Caryn Thomas Mitchell

  "Now remember what I said," Drake switched into coach mode as I jogged gently, warming up my legs, and he began to give me directions. "Lengthen your stride, no not that much, relax your hands, try to keep the tension out of your body. Breathe, that's right, in for two out for one. Good job."

  He jogged casually next to me as though it was nothing at all, he wasn't even breathing hard. We continued on the warm-up loop around my house, and when we got back he said, "Good, now you're going to run on your own to the pond."

  The pond was where the water relay was going to be, but my house wasn't near the official starting line, so I still wouldn't be at 3 miles yet even counting the slow jog we'd already run.

  "You can do this, you've been practicing. I have to get to work, but I'm trusting you to do the whole run. I have my cell if you need me. Which you won't. I don't have to put a GPS on your ankle, right?"

  "Right," I said, taking a swig of my water so he couldn't see how hard my eyes were rolling, "nothing to it, just go for an easy run, out and back."

  "You got this. You don't want me to speak to Jenn do you?"

  "No fair pulling the niece card, she's a teenager, she'd mock me mercilessly!"

  "Probably for the rest of your life, now go, before it gets too hot. And call me when you get there. I'll come pick you up and drive you home."

  I started off down the driveway again, the shells crunching under my feet, and turned to watch as he waved me on. No way could I slack now, he was waiting for my call so he could drive me home. And also measure my time. I should have thought that out and had Gigi waiting for me.

  If I could get to the right place in my head I'd be thinking about anything but running as I headed down the road. Most mornings he ran with me, but I was prepared with a list of things to divert my mind today. I went over the details of the triathlon in my head for a while, because in addition to participating I was helping to organize it. Of course. I was rediscovering small town life was circular that way, plan, participate, clean-up, the same people showed up again and again. Seemed like I was one of those people now.

  As I ran, I ticked off in my head where we were with things, post cards had been sent out inviting people to participate or donate. People in town had continued to be generous in their support for the women who had been displaced when the compound was destroyed after the founder and his wife were killed. We had enough donations for goody bags, and the bag stuffing committee was meeting at the bookstore in a few days. The t-shirts and finisher pins had been ordered, and if luck was with us they'd be delivered as the bags were being prepared and we could get everyone their belongings all at once.

  Ownership of the land the compound was on had been briefly in dispute but now it seemed the production company owned it, or leased it, or something, and was going ahead with construction. I jogged past the land and spied bulldozers among the charred ruins. I craned my neck to get a better look. The equipment looked new and shiny, not old and dirty and dinged up. Must be a lot of money in the Reality TV business I thought, as I picked up the pace and headed off the road.

  I could smell the pond as I got closer, that sweet tangy smell that lets you know water is nearby. The slight breeze cooled my skin and rustled the branches in the small wooded area that surrounded the pond.

  There was a well-worn path leading to the kettle pond we were using for the swim portion. We had wanted to use the ocean, but the local shark count was becoming alarming and we didn't want to risk losing any of the participants, or even just parts of them. We'd had quite enough death for one summer and it had only just started. It seemed like the splashing of several dozen swimmers might get the sharks’ attention, and not in a good way. The recent surge of sharks had everyone worried about the safety of swimmers, and the impact on the economy; so we figured the less attention we gave them, the better off we'd all be. We didn't want the tourists, or well, anyone, to be in danger so we made sure everyone was advised of course. We also didn't want them to stop coming here. It was a fine line.

  We figured using the pond was just better all the way around. Some of the kettle ponds were quite large, and this one in particular was plenty big enough. The swim would be more laps than we’d wanted, but that was better than our own home-brewed version of Jaws, right here in Hydrangea Bay.

  I'd managed to keep my breathing steady as I distracted myself with thoughts of the event planning, but as I approached the pond I was tiring and I could feel the heat of the approaching day beginning to ratchet upwards. I slowed to take a swig of my water and as I glanced around I spotted something along the side of the path, just out of reach and almost out of sight. A piece of red cloth, sticking out from under a pile of pine needles and boughs that was parallel to the edge of the tire tracks I was running in. The cloth didn't look as though it had been lying there that long, it wasn't all worn and dirty as if it had been in the woods for a long time.

  I stopped to take a closer look, and realized it was a torn edge of fabric; it looked like it had maybe come from the sleeve of a shirt. There was no shirt there though. Just the sleeve. I walked along the edge of the roadway, scanning for other pieces of material or the rest of the shirt. Maybe someone had been running and taken off their shirt? Or, hmmm, there didn't seem to be too many logical explanations.

  I picked my way through the woods, keeping a sharp eye out for poison ivy and critters as I walked. Part of me felt like I knew better, like I knew I didn't want to see what was there. But my curiosity was piqued now and some unseen force seemed to be pulling me forward. I was pretty sure if Drake was here he'd tell me to resist the force and keep running, and I would. In a minute.

  As I got to the edge of the pond, where the cattails were thickest, I saw something flinch and I jumped. A long black snake rose up briefly out of the shadows and into the dappled sunlight, and then slithered the other way, back into the cattails. Were snakes at the Cape poisonous? I couldn't remember. 'Red touches black, you're okay Jack' was the only thing I could think of in that moment, and the snake had only been black.

  The serpent had made me a little shaky, but I needed to see what it was doing there. Staying carefully away from the water and the reeds I tip-toed along the edge of the rutted road, craning my neck to see, and trying not to lose my balance.

  Nothing seemed obvious and I pulled my phone from the pocket of my shorts to call Drake.

  Just as he picked up, I saw what I had been looking for, and dreading. The rest of the shirt. And the body that went with it.

  Chapter 3

  "Hello, are you ready?" Drake asked when he answered the phone.

  "Um, yeah, but you better bring some reinforcements."

  He drew in his breath sharply, "What's the matter?"

  "I'm fine, but someone else definitely is not."

  He exhaled, loudly, "How does this happen to you? Don't touch a thing, I'll be there in five minutes, lights and sirens."

  "No need for that, you can't save him now."

  "Someone could still be there, Ivy. I'm walking out of the station right now. I'll be there in four." There’s only one road leading to the pond, so I knew he’d find me fast.

  I didn't want to look, I really didn't. But it was hard not to. All I could see was a person-sized mound, barely covered by the sort of debris you find near a pond. Leaves, twigs, pine needles. He? She? Hard to tell. He I think. His arm was sticking out a little bit and I could see where the cloth had been torn. Maybe an animal had come along or something? I averted my eyes and walked toward the lake, my heart was racing and it wasn't just the stupid running that had raised my pulse rate. I hoped no one really was still nearby, and I strained my ears to listen for the snap of a twig or shuffle of leaves.

  As I walked I saw something in the dirt ahead of me, and almost without thinking I scooped it up. It looked like a business card for the production company. Shrugging I tucked it into my shorts pocket and continued my pacing. I hated it when people left their trash laying around, especially when they were visitors. So r
ude.

  I heard sirens in the distance and turned to walk back toward the spot where I had seen the body. Dust clouds rose in the distance as Drake's truck, and what I assumed was a police cruiser behind him, came down the road and stopped ahead of where I was standing. The small convoy came to an abrupt stop and quieted their sirens but left their lights spinning. It was a spooky effect, the light bouncing off the greenery in the woods.

  Drake got out and motioned to the officers he had with him, a man and a woman, to rope off the scene.

  "What happened?" he asked as he approached me.

  "I don't know, I saw a scrap of fabric and thought I should investigate, and found um, well someone." I said waving at the lump by the edge of the pond.

  "I don't like the way you toss the word ‘investigating’ around. You know you're not an investigator, right?"

  "Yes! Seriously Drake, I didn't want to find a body! I was just trying to finish my run. Hey, you sent me out this way."

  "I understand but you should have let me look for it. Did you get close? Disturb the scene? Am I going to have to explain your sneaker prints to anyone?" His breathing was even, he wasn't accusing me, exactly, but his eyes were flashing and he was annoyed. Well, tough, it wasn't even my idea to be here.

  "No, I stayed over here on the trail. Pretty much. Probably," I could feel him glaring at me, "I just slowed to a walk. It looked like an animal maybe..." I trailed off.

  "Okay, I know this is unpleasant. I just wish you weren't in the middle of it. Again."

  "That makes two of us."

  Drake called for another cruiser to take me back to my place, and I decided it was definitely best I hadn't asked Gigi to pick me up after all. I didn't even know how to break it to her that someone else had been killed here. Our sleepy safe little town was developing an ugly habit of people turning up as corpses.

  As I waited for the other car I walked back down the dirt road and took a deep breath. The birds were still singing, the air was still crisp and clear, but the day had changed. In spite of the sunshine everything seemed a little bit darker.

  By the time I had showered and dressed word had started to get around. I knew this because my phone was blowing up with texts and calls. The victim had been identified as Luke Boreman, President of our local bank. Unfortunately, he wasn't a nice person. And as bank President, he had been quite tightfisted with the bank's cash. He wasn't the most well liked man in town, that was for sure. He was good at his job, maybe too good. He pissed a lot of people off.

  Gigi was the one who told me who he was, I hadn't seen his face, thank heavens.

  She had come up to the apartment and we were having coffee. I was forgoing doughnuts but I just couldn't face another hard-boiled egg, so we had compromised on some peanut butter and sliced apple.

  I licked the peanut butter from the edge of the apple wedge and took a bite and smiled. So much better than the egg.

  "Enjoy it, you're back to eggs tomorrow."

  "How come I have so many coaches?"

  "Because you're a terrible athlete, and if left to your own devices you'd eat bagels with cupcakes for dessert?"

  "I'm not terrible, I'm just unenthused. It's hard to be enthusiastic when your best run leads you to a dead body."

  "You've got me there. Better you than Jenn, but still, poor guy. I heard he had tickets to the Blues Festival next week, he loved music."

  "What on earth could have happened? Who'd want him dead?"

  I shrugged and took another bite of apple. "Maybe he said no to someone who wanted him to say yes?"

  "Probably, but would it be worth killing over not getting a mortgage or a credit card? Seems like people get turned down for that stuff every day," Gigi tapped her nails on the bar while she thought, "I just talked to him last week. We stayed in touch, he was lonesome."

  "I can imagine. It must be a workplace hazard, being lonesome when you're having to tell people ‘no’ all the time. What did he say, anything interesting?"

  "No, not really, we talked about the TV crew, he said the sale of the compound was almost complete, and that the crew had a bunch of accounts they had opened at the bank for stuff. Everything from bulldozers to paper clips is how he put it."

  My cell phone chirped and I went to get it from my running shorts. As I did the business card I had picked up at the lake slid out and tumbled to the ground. I answered my text, then reached down to retrieve the card and placed it face up on the bar.

  "Those things are all over town," Gigi said pointing at the card.

  "I know, right, this one was out by the lake this morning."

  "Did you tell Drake?"

  "No, it's just debris."

  "It could be a clue!"

  "You've been watching too much TV, sis. It's not a clue, it's a piece of garbage left by people who want us to keep the town unspoiled but don't want to do any of the work to keep it that way," I said as I slid it into a drawer of pencils and pens.

  "You need to show that to him."

  "It's nothing."

  She cocked her head and squinted her eyes at me, a perfect replica of 'the face' our mom used to give us when we were in trouble.

  "Fine. Later. That text was the truck driver he's out back, our afternoon shipment is here, let's go unpack."

  "You're not off the hook," she said as she swept the crumbs from her muffin off the small table I had in my kitchen and dashed them into the trash.

  "I know, you're persistent. I've met you," I said as I led the way down the inner stairs and to the stockroom. A voice in my head said maybe she was right though, and I decided I'd circle back around to the card later.

  The store was chaotic, and I peeled off to help some customers as Gigi headed for the back room. Looming large among the crowd was Bruce, the guy from the TV crew—he had to be a foot taller than almost everyone else in the store. I looked around but didn't see Heather or Angel, the designers. He waved and made his way to me in the crowd.

  "Hi, may I help you with something?" I asked him.

  "No, I can help you though," his slow smile and wink only served to confirm the player label I'd given him.

  "What've you got for me?" I asked, I had no time or patience for this guy today.

  "The lists I promised you, approved books and magazines for your displays."

  I had lost all enthusiasm for working with these people after he had disassembled my store the last time. But he was a potential customer, and people might actually be interested in Nailing It!, so I just smiled and held out my hand, "Great, thanks, I'll see what I can do."

  He managed to slide his hand along mine as he handed me the folder with the information in it, and I tried not to flinch. I felt like I had been slimed.

  "Thanks, I'll put some of these on the next order if they have them."

  "I'd appreciate that, Ivy, you'd really be helping us out," he said looking meaningfully into my eyes.

  "Anything for the community, that's what we're here for," I said as I tried to make my escape.

  "Do you have my card?" he asked as he thrust one identical to the one I'd picked up this morning into my hand.

  "No, uh, no I don't think I do," I lied, and thought about the one in the drawer and what it might be able to tell me if only it could talk.

  Chapter 4

  "How did he die?" I asked Drake. He was lounging against my doorframe again, waiting for me to head out for a run. I had thought that finding a body on the trail would get me out of running for at least a day, but sadly, I was wrong.

  He rolled his eyes at me, "You know I can't be discussing it, and anyway, we don't know yet. At least not for sure."

  "Was it the snake?"

  He eyed me, "Don't think so," was all he said.

  "So you have an idea?"

  "Stop asking questions I can't answer."

  "What kind of questions can you answer? Tell me and I'll ask those."

  "Questions about running," he smiled.

  "Right, well I haven't got any questions a
bout that."

  "Then I assume you're ready to go? Are you okay? That was probably rough yesterday."

  "It was. And I'm fine. Asking questions is how I cope, are you running with me today?"

  "No, sorry, I have some things to look into this morning. I'm waiting on some reports."

  "So, you just stopped to hassle me and make sure I did my run."

  "Pretty much, yeah."

  I fake punched him on the arm and jogged down the stairs to the driveway. Running in place for a few minutes, I turned and yelled to him, "I'm meeting my sister for coffee, she'll drive me back, see you later."

  "NO bagels...!" he yelled after me, and I stuck out my tongue at him. Well at least in my head. No sense making my running coach mad, that would be crazy. And making the detective who could answer questions for me mad was even crazier.

  The morning air was thick with the promise of rain. It was shaping up to be a rainy summer and as much as people wanted beach weather, as far as I was concerned rain was good for the store. People needed a way to amuse themselves and their families in the bad weather. The bookstore, with its many rooms and themes, was keeping them busy, and giving them something to read on stormy nights.

  Today was a planned shorter run, to make up for the long run yesterday. It was all written down somewhere, but I kept losing the paper. By accident. Probably.

  I wasn't lying to Drake. I was heading to the coffee shop, but I was meeting my friend Shirley who works at the bank.

  The sudden death of their President had to be weighing heavily on her...and I might have a few pertinent questions.

  Turns out, I didn't even have to get her started.

  "Hi," I said when I saw her at the regular booth we used.

  "This is awful!"

  "You mean Luke?"

  "Yes! I can hardly believe it. Not just that he's gone, but we're in the middle of an audit. The auditors are all over everything, and now that he's been killed, they're acting like there's a reason to snoop extra—so everything is getting a second look."