by J. L. Wilson
"Dorothy!" Glynnis' voice drifted to me in odd stereo, from outside the house and the top of the stairs. She was probably standing on the front stoop and her voice echoed into the kitchen and thus to me. "You need to get out here!"
"Now what?" I grumbled as I lugged SoSo up the stairs, still in his cage. He protested this indignity by grumbling along with me, but I wasn't about to have broken glass embedded in kitty paws. I got to the kitchen and paused, hoping to enlist the Professor's help in moving SoSo upstairs, but my neighbor was nowhere in sight. I heard voices coming from the front of the house, so presumably Morgan had joined Glynnis there.
"Dorothy?" Glynnis called again.
"Coming." I dragged SoSo with me to the front of the house and the staircase that led upstairs. As I approached my tiny entry foyer, I saw Glynnis and the Professor in conversation with a short fat man in a business suit. Behind him was a crowd of people, including the Gilleys, who peered over each other, into my house.
"What's up?" I asked, leaving SoSo by the bottom step and going to the door.
"Miss Gaylord?" the suited man asked. He had bright red hair, red cheeks to match and twinkling blue eyes. In thirty years he would be a perfect Santa Claus. I nodded and he pushed past Morgan into my foyer. "I'm Joe Connor and I'm here to deliver your prize!"
I took a step back and almost fell over SoSo in his cage, who expressed his displeasure with a yowl. At the same moment Connor put an arm around my shoulders, turned, and said, "Smile."
A man pushed past Glynnis, brandishing a big camera. "Smile!" this new stranger barked.
I blinked and a flash went off in my face. Connor gave me a little shake and extended a small gold box embossed with a pair of red shoes on top. "On behalf of the merchants at the Emerald Hills Mall, I'm here to present you with the Grand Prize in our There's No Place Like Home contest.'" He rattled the box and smiled brightly at me. "Those are the keys to your new car. And of course there's the cash prize." He gestured and a buxom blonde not much older than Rosemary Gilley's oldest daughter pushed into the foyer holding an enormous piece of cardboard in front of her swimsuit-clad body. "Your check!"
The camera man barked, "Smile!" again.
The buxom blonde thrust the cardboard at me and I automatically grasped it as Connor leaned close to me, beaming into the camera. "Smile, Miss Gaylord!"
I smiled woodenly and the flash went off again. Connor grabbed my hand and gave it a vigorous shake. "We had to park the car next door because it seems there's an accident outside, but don't you worry, it's there for you when you're ready to take it for a spin. Thank you for entering the contest! The story will be in the paper tomorrow and on the six o'clock news tonight." The blonde handed him an accordion folder, which Connor thrust at me. "Here are the papers for your car, information about requesting deposit of the check, legal forms for you to sign. They're all formalities." He put an arm around the blonde's waist and headed back to the doorway.
"What was that all about?" the Professor asked as the three strangers left as quickly as they came.
"I entered a contest at the Mall and I won a car or something. Someone called me at the library and told me they were delivering it today. It's a Volkswagen." I glanced at the faux check in my hands then did a double take. "What? This must be wrong."
"Wow. That's a neat car," Kim Gilley said in an awed voice.
I thrust the accordion folder and pasteboard check at Glynnis then went to my front stoop to check next door. A sleek blue sports car sat at the curb. Was that a Volkswagen? I thought the contest was raffle for a Rabbit or a Bug. That didn't look like a Bug. It looked like a Jaguar.
Connor and his entourage were talking to my neighbors, many of whom had gathered near the crime scene tape and the mini-van parked next to it. The camera man snapped pictures of the Winnebago as he strolled to the van emblazoned with "KYOZ! Your News Source." Tinsley eyed the man reprovingly as he strode up my front walk.
"Looks like you'll be on the news tonight," Rosemary said.
"Let's go check out the car." Lou and Kim bounded past Tinsley. Rosemary followed at a more sedate pace, glancing back at the check Glynnis still held. Her eyes widened and she almost fell over the upended lilac bush before staggering after her offspring.
"There must be a mistake. I entered a contest. I thought I won a little car and a little cash." I took the faux check from Glynnis. "This can't be correct."
"You say you entered a raffle?" Tinsley eyed the sleek Volkswagen sitting at the curb.
"I did. At the Mall. They were giving away this car and a few other things." I started to elaborate but I could see the disbelief in his cold eyes.
"Who was running the raffle?"
"I don't know." I struggled to remember. "It was one of those displays where you fill in a form and they draw names. It was run by the merchants at the Mall as a promo to get people in and kick off the summer shopping season. It was an Oz-themed contest, so I figured it was appropriate."
"Everything in Kansas is Oz-themed," Glynnis murmured. She smiled blandly at Tinsley when he shot her a questioning look. "Wizard this, Witch that. You know."
"It's hard to escape," I agreed. "I'll bet fifty percent of the girls born in Kansas are named Dorothy."
"I'd say it's closer to sixty percent." Glynnis frowned when she saw Tinsley's confused expression. "Oz? The movie? The book?"
Tinsley nodded brusquely. "Right." He eyed the check. "You won a fifty-thousand dollar car and a thirty-thousand dollar cash settlement, all on the day your ex-husband came back to town."
I nodded. "Yeah. I guess so." I saw Drew watching us from the Winnebago. "Sure is a coincidence."
"Right." Tinsley followed my gaze. "And you used to date the Chief of Police."
I frowned at Tinsley. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Nothing." Tinsley shrugged, his big shoulders moving up and down in the sports coat. "It's all very convenient, that's all."
"Convenient? For who?"
Tinsley just stared at me. Behind me, SoSo let out a yowl.
I knew exactly how he felt.
Chapter 4
"What are they doing?" I asked my neighbor. I didn't have the energy to go to the window. It had sapped all my strength to get SoSo up the stairs at home and settled in the front bedroom before ushering Morgan and Glynnis from my house. I was inspecting my new wheels when my next door neighbor drove home in his Mercedes and swept me into his house for what he called "a little R-and-R."
That neighbor--Leo Burt--paused as he entered the room and gazed through his picture window. "They're pulling the Winnie upright. I suppose they'll take it away somewhere and process it." He handed me a tall frosty glass of amber liquid before sinking onto his immaculate dark gold couch and regarding me with bemusement. "Thank God the power didn't go off and we still have ice. There's nothing like a humid May day in Kansas with no air conditioning. You're lucky you didn't get hurt in that storm. It was a nasty one."
"Just a bump on the head from scaring myself."
He shuddered dramatically. "Don't expect me to visit you in the hospital if you get hurt badly. You know how I am about hospitals."
I hid a smile. Everyone knew how Leo was about hospitals. "Trust me. I won't ask you to visit if the occasion arises." I sipped my drink and leaned back in my chair.
"Have you driven the new car yet?"
"I barely saw it before the G-man accused me of buddying around with the Mob and taking bribes. At least, I think that's what he was implying."
"G-man? Gorgeous Man?" Leo regarded me slyly over the top of his drink.
I snorted. "In looks maybe. Not in personality."
"You win the No Place Like Home Sweepstakes and get accused of murder, all in one week. You're an exciting person, Dorothy Gaylord. I'm glad you won. All the merchants at the mall chipped in a grand or two, and I'm pleased the money went to someone I know. And someone so deserving." Leo sipped his drink. "What does the CC stand for?"
"CC?" I was starti
ng to relax. Leo made an excellent (strong) drink and it was doing the trick.
"Your new car. Isn't it a Volkswagen CC?"
I tapped the bundle of papers next to me on the end table. "Yeah. It must stand for Conspicuous Car. It costs fifty grand, has power everything and has every gadget imaginable, from heated seats to satellite stuff." I mentally compared it to my elderly Escort, which had power-nothing and barely enough energy to venture onto the highway. "I wonder how much my insurance will be."
"You can use the prize money to pay for it. Thirty grand is a nice chunk of change." Leo sipped his drink, his dark brown eyes amused. Leo was tall and lanky with artfully mussed light brown hair, a long face peppered with freckles, and killer fashion sense. He owned the Oohs and Aahs Beauty Salon at the Emerald Hills Mall. We met in high school when he and his family moved to town. Broomfield, Kansas was a big change for him from Long Island, New York, and back then gay pride was tolerated in name, not in practice. Leo and I became acquainted when he warned me that he overheard a plot in the boy's bathroom to spy on Drew and me after the Homecoming party. Since Drew and I had a hot night planned, I was grateful for the heads-up. We easily evaded the pranksters, who ended up walking back to town when their car mysteriously developed four flat tires.
My friendship with Leo flourished in high school and survived when I went off to the University to get a degree in Library Science and he went off to Beauty School. By chance we both returned to Broomfield at about the same time twenty years earlier to care for aging parents and we stayed when our parents died. He bought the house next to mine a decade ago and we picked up our friendship where it left off.
"I think the license plate is a brilliant touch," Leo commented as he smoothed a slight wrinkle on his right leg, clad in Calvin Klein denims. "RBYSLPRS. It's so perfect for our Dorothy. I'm surprised it wasn't taken already. So how does it feel?"
"How does what feel?" I slouched in my chair, feeling relaxed for the first time since the Winnebago and the Fed landed on my doorstep.
"Your ex-husband is dead. How do you feel about that?"
I considered his question. In truth, I hadn't thought about Wade in years but now that he blew into my life, I felt a tug of nostalgia. Then I remembered the constant bickering, his insistence on overspending when we didn't have the money and the final straw--when he got drunk at the Country Club dance and announced I was lousy in bed. "Good riddance to bad rubbish?" I suggested.
Leo grinned. "I'm happy to hear you say that. I was afraid you'd get all teary on me."
"Not me. Was anything at the mall damaged in the storm?"
"A couple of cars in the parking lot were hit by hail, but other than that, we got off easy." He regarded me quizzically. "How did the FBI guy know that you and Drew used to date?"
I almost choked on my drink. "What? How did you know he asked about that?"
He appeared pained. "Please. I have my sources."
"Seriously. How did you know?"
"I called Morgan to check on the house and he told me he overheard it." Leo got up when we heard a knock at his front door. "Maybe that's Charlie Becker."
"Charlie? Why would the mayor of Broomfield be coming to see you?"
"He's also my insurance agent. I called him as soon as Morgan told me about the damage in the back yard." Leo paused before leaving the living room. "Think about it, Dot. How did that FBI agent know that you and Drew used to date? He must have done research on you before he came to town."
I thought about Leo's words as he answered the door. He was right. Drew and I came perilously close to marrying when I graduated from high school, but I was reluctant to tie the knot. We had one final argument before I went off to college and Drew dropped out of tech school to join the Army. We lost touch with each other, but ten years after I returned to Broomfield, Drew returned, too, with a college degree in criminal justice and years of experience in different police departments around the country. Like me, he was divorced. We had coffee together now and again, and we worked together on several town projects, but we never resumed our romantic relationship, although I occasionally wondered why not. I chalked up that vague longing to hormones and memories, though, and contented myself with knowing I couldn't recreate my past.
I listened to the voice at the door, but instead of Charlie Becker's adenoidal baritone I heard Drew greeting Leo and asking, "Is Dorothy here? We need to talk to her."
We? I turned as Drew and Leo entered the room, Tinsley behind them, his face as impassive as granite. "Dorothy and I were talking about storm damage. Can I get you gentlemen anything?" Leo volunteered. "A drink? Glass of water?"
"No, thanks." Drew stopped by the couch where I sat while Tinsley crossed the room to examine Leo's photo montage on the wall near the fireplace. "We need to talk to Dorothy."
Leo gestured expansively. "Have a seat." He resumed his seat and picked up his drink, intercepting a sharp glare from Tinsley. "Oh, sorry. Do you want privacy?"
"For heaven's sake, that's not necessary, is it?" I felt better having Leo in the room with me. Then I mentally kicked myself. I had nothing to fear from Drew and I was reasonably certain I could handle anything Tinsley might throw at me.
"We have a couple of questions." Tinsley turned to regard me, clasping his hands behind his back. It was a vaguely military pose, as was his widened stance and straight shoulders.
I looked at Drew, who stood nearby. The only sign of tension I saw was when the scars on the left side of his face twitched as he tightened his jaw and narrowed his eyes. Otherwise he seemed totally relaxed. "Just routine, Dorothy. Did you know Wade was coming to town?"
"Nope," I said promptly. "I haven't heard from him in years."
"Did you go inside the Winnebago?" This question came from Tinsley.
"Of course not." The words slipped out before I could think of more suitable phrasing. "I mean, it was lying crushed in the street. How would I get inside it?"
"Are you sure?" Drew asked.
"Of course I'm sure."
"And I'm sure you won't mind being fingerprinted so we can verify that." Tinsley's voice was flat and uncompromising.
"Fingerprinting?" Leo asked. He returned Tinsley's icy stare with one of his own. "Perhaps you need a lawyer, Dorothy. This sounds serious."
"I don't care if they take my fingerprints," I said before Tinsley could leap on his comment as a sign of my guilt. "I wasn't in there, so they can compare all they like." I waggled my hand. "Go ahead."
"We'll do that at the police station," Drew said mildly. "You can stop by later."
"Do you recognize this?" Tinsley held up a cluster of keys.
"Keys?" I suggested. When he shot me an irritated look, I added, "A key ring?"
"This." He crossed the room and held out the keys. One of the keys was longer than the others, the business end of the key overly large and the handle part round and fat. Tinsley twisted the ring and my attention moved to a small charm, dangling in front of me.
"Ruby slippers?" I smiled at Leo. "It's a ruby slipper charm."
"Oh, what a surprise," Leo said in a bored voice. When Tinsley turned to him, Leo said, "You're in Kansas now. I'll bet one of four key chains have ruby slippers on them. Those that don't have ruby slippers have a farmhouse." He patted his jeans pocket. "I have something like that on my keys to the shop." He sipped his drink then set it back on the coaster which protected the oak finish on his end table. "What's so special about those ruby slippers?"
"They're Wade's." Drew's left shoulder hunched slightly and I recognized the movement. The burns he had suffered years previously scarred not only his face but the left side of his body. When he got tense or nervous, the injury flared into life again. I remembered the doctor telling me Drew would have residual pain for the rest of his life. Of course, that was a small price to pay for surviving the fire, which was a minor miracle. "The charm is attached to a safety deposit box key."
I stared blankly at him. "So? Why would I know anything about Wade's keys?"
"You're still his beneficiary." There was a faint accusatory note in Drew's voice.
"What? You're kidding." I took a long swallow from my glass. "He must have forgotten to change his will. Wait a minute. How did you know I'm his beneficiary?"
"We check these things." Tinsley's voice was clipped, as though the question barely deserved an answer. "How long have you been divorced?"
"Fifteen years. Wade left town ten years ago."
"Really." Tinsley glanced at Drew, who was still watching me. "You came to town about ten years ago, didn't you, Chief?"
I exchanged a startled look with Leo. How the hell did the FBI know when Drew moved to town? And why would they care? I started to speak but Drew beat me to it. "I moved back almost eleven years ago." He turned to me. "We need to examine that safety deposit box, Dorothy."
"Of course. But I have no idea where it is or what's in it. Because I'm the beneficiary, does that mean only I can open it?" I stared from one man to the other.
"We can get a search warrant," Tinsley said.
"I didn't say that," I protested. "All I meant was that I wasn't sure if I had legal rights to it. Just because Wade forgot..." My cell phone, buried in my Dockers pocket, played We're Off To See The Wizard, my ringtone for Baby Dot. "Excuse me."
"Let it go to messaging. We're busy." Tinsley glared at me as I pulled the phone from my pocket.
I didn't grace his brusqueness with a reply. "Hi, Baby Dot, what's up? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. We all hid in the school basement during the storm." My god-daughter's teenaged voice expressed boredom with something as mundane as a tornado passing overhead. "Auntie D, can you help me?"
I knew something was up. Baby Dot only called me 'Auntie' when she needed a big favor. "Sure, if I can. What's the problem?"