Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 02 - Apple Pots and Funeral Plots

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by Peggy Dulle


  “Great.” I nodded, then turned my attention back to the parents. “If you have your own children to register, then do that first.” I pointed to the teenagers. “As the kids get registered, take them into the tent behind the contest tables.”

  “We’re not allowed in that tent,” Stan said.

  “But that’s where the adult contestants wait for their numbers to be called.”

  “I know, but it’s only used for the adult contests, not the kids,” Judy added.

  “That’s ridiculous.” I pointed to the kids. “Start getting these kids registered and have them pick their events. I’ll go talk to the tent people.”

  I marched around the tables and toward the tent. A few feet from the tent, two enormous men met me. Their arms were crossed over their chests and they scowled at me. They made Oscar and Bruno, the killer clowns, look like pip-squeaks. I could also see shoulder holsters under their jackets. What could be going on in the tent that required armed guards?

  Just then two large black Dobermans jumped toward me. Their teeth glistened in the morning light and I thought of the half eaten dead body in the mine. Would this be my next “accident?”

  Chapter 19

  One of the guards yelled at the dogs and they both sat down a few feet from me. My heart felt as if it would explode out of my chest. I took two deep breaths and walked toward the dogs. It was a good thing Shelby was back at the inn. She would have charged at the dogs and been their breakfast.

  I put my hand up. “I’m in charge of the kid’s eating contest and I need a place to keep the kids contained.”

  The two men stepped around the dogs and toward me. “Not here, lady.”

  “Why not?” I tried looking around them, but it was like trying to see around a massive fence.

  “Because we said so!” The two men pushed me back from the tent entrance.

  “This is ridiculous. It’s a huge tent and I only need a small section. I’ll make sure the kids don’t disturb anything.”

  Mayor Galan stepped out from inside of the tent and yelled, “Return!” to the dogs. They turned and went back inside the tent. Then he walked over to me. “What seems to be the problem?”

  “This lady wants to get inside the tent.”

  “I’m sorry, Liza,” he said as he led me further away from the entrance. “But this tent is used for the distribution of the apple pots bought during the festival.”

  “You can’t be using the whole tent. I just need a small section to house the kids in the eating contest.”

  “I’m afraid we are.”

  “How come you have armed guards and attack dogs to watch apple pots? They’re not that valuable.”

  “Some of them are, especially the ones inlaid with stones. Some distributors buy several cases, so you’re talking about thousands of dollars. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t keep them safe.”

  “I still don’t see why we can’t use part of the tent. The kids won’t steal your precious pots.”

  “Do you think the kids should be around those dogs?”

  I glanced back at the tent. “No, definitely not.” I said, reluctantly.

  “So we both agree. You’ll find someplace else for the kids.”

  “Fine.” I went back to where the kids were.

  “He wouldn’t let you use the tent, would he?” Judy asked.

  “Nope.”

  “The Mayor’s really picky about it.”

  “I can see that.”

  “What do you want us to do now?”

  “Go over to the carnival rides and take Stan with you. Find the inflated jumping tent with all the balls. Gather as many balls as you can and bring them back. Give each pair of kids a ball and let them play toss until we get the rest registered and organized.”

  “Okay.” Stan and Judy left and I went to the registration tables.

  It took over an hour but we finally got all of the kids registered. In the end we had a hundred and seventy-five kids signed up for the contests. The ages ranged from seven to sixteen. They had to be seventeen to participate in the adult contests, so we had quite a few teenagers who wanted the experience of the eating contests, too.

  I conned a few of the parents who wanted to leave into staying and helping. I’m sure the desperation showed on my face, but I didn’t care. Some of the older teenagers were willing to lend a hand with the younger kids’ rounds, which helped, too.

  I blew my whistle and all of the kids gathered around me. We called the kids who had signed up for the first event — granola bars. The rest sat in front of the eating tables and watched. Stan and Judy stayed with them. Then we organized the granola bar kids into age groups and rounds. By ten o’clock we had started.

  It was messy, hilarious at times, and all of the kids had a great time. The funniest was the bananas. The kids had to peel them and most resorted to biting off the top first. Their faces were priceless when they got the taste of the peel in their mouths.

  In the end, only two kids threw up and three cried when they didn’t win. Not bad. The event was over by one o’clock. Everyone received a ribbon for participating and the winners were told to come back on Saturday at five.

  I was exhausted but had just enough time to go over to the library, pick a book, and practice reading it aloud. I didn’t want to disappoint the kids at my reading later. I could have walked to the library, but I just didn’t have the energy. I found Kate’s car in record time and drove to the library.

  Edith met me at the library door. “It’s great to see you again, Liza.”

  “You too, Edith.”

  “Have you picked out a book yet?”

  “No, that’s why I’m early.”

  “I’ll take you to the children’s section.”

  “Great.” When we got to the books, I asked her, “Did Jimmy stop by and talk to you?”

  “Yeah, he showed me an old dirty journal and asked if it could be Danielle’s.”

  “What did you think?”

  “It could have been. I saw it several times when she interviewed me, but I wasn’t sure. When I’d seen the diary it was clean and the cover was bright red. The white doily, which covered the red velvet, was intricate and beautiful. It looked new. The one Jimmy showed me wasn’t.”

  “But it could have been the same journal.”

  “It was the right size and shape. And it certainly had been red at one time. So I guess so.”

  “Could you read anything on the pages?”

  “No, it was all smeared with dirt and water stained. I couldn’t make out anything. It also looked like several pages had been torn out.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. The pages were numbered in the lower right hand corner and I’d say twenty or so were missing.” She patted me on the arm. “I’ll leave you to make your selection. When you’re finished, come up to my office and you can practice reading to me.”

  “Thanks.” It is always better to have an audience when you practice.

  It only took me a few minutes to find a book. They had one of my favorites, Milo’s Hat Trick by Jon Agee. It’s a hilarious story about an old magician who needs a new hat trick. He goes looking for a rabbit and finds a bear that can jump in and out of his hat. A rabbit taught him, of course. The bear gets lost and jumps in and out of the hat at the most inopportune moments. Eventually he finds his way to the theater and the magician. It’s a great story that teaches that anyone can do anything with the right training. I practiced several times and then went looking for Edith.

  I found her buried in books in her office. “Are you still organizing your books by reading levels?”

  “Yes and it’s turning out to be a much harder job than I thought.” She handed me a book. “See if you can figure out this one.”

  I opened the book. It had words in strange places on the pages, so that made it a harder reading level. But the words didn’t seem too difficult, which would indicate it was an easier level. I handed her the book back. “I see what you mean. Maybe you
need a section for books that just don’t fit into a specific level.”

  She placed the book in a new pile. “Great idea.” Then she turned toward me. “Did you find a book?”

  I held up my choice and she smiled. “They’ll love that one.”

  “I do, so I’m sure they will.” I practiced several times reading to Edith. She made a few suggestions for the voice of the magician. In the end I think the magician sounded like Bullwinkle the Moose but the kids loved the story and clapped after I read it. It’s always nice to be appreciated.

  As I walked back toward Kate’s car I spotted Jimmy. What had happened to all the help he was going to send this morning? I marched over to him. “Hey, Jimmy.”

  He cringed. “I know, I know. I promised to send help and I didn’t. Give me a minute to explain, okay?”

  “Fine. What’s your excuse?”

  “There was a major accident between a delivery truck and a car this morning. We had to send the automobile driver to a trauma unit by helicopter. There were apple pot pieces all over the highway to be cleaned up. It was a mess and the Mayor was there screaming orders to everyone. Making sure every little piece of the pots were picked up and put back into the truck. By the time we were done, you were finished with the eating contests. I’m sorry, Liza.”

  “Well, it sounds like you had your hands full and we did okay.”

  “I knew you would understand.” He put his arm around my shoulder. “Do you want to look at the journal?”

  “Yes, but I need to get my dog. The owner of the Inn has been watching her since early this morning and I hate to impose on people too long.”

  “That’s fine. You go get your dog; I’ll get the journal and meet you back in your room at the Inn.”

  “Perfect.”

  When Shelby saw me walk through the door, she went nuts barking and wagging her tail. Joe sat behind the desk smiling.

  “Was she okay?” I asked.

  “She was fine except when a boy went by on a bicycle. She went crazy.”

  “Yeah, she has a thing about wheels. Do you think dogs are reincarnated?”

  Joe shrugged.

  “Well, if they are, I think she was run over by something with wheels in her last life.”

  Joe laughed.

  “Thanks for watching her.”

  “No problem. How were the kids’ contests?”

  “Fun.” I started to leave and then turned back. “What’s with the Mayor and his ‘Do Not Enter’ tent?”

  “Oh, he takes the distribution of his apple pots very seriously. We leave him alone since those apple pots make us some good money.”

  “I guess so. He just seems to be a little over the top about those pots.”

  “You would be too if you were in charge of something that brought in several million dollars a year to your town.”

  I choked. “Several million dollars?”

  “Sure, and every year it gets higher.”

  I thanked Joe again for watching Shelby and walked back to my room. A million dollars for apple pots? It didn’t even seem remotely possible. How much gold, silver, and jewels were inlaid in the handles of the pots to make them worth so much money? No wonder the mayor took his apple pots seriously. I would too if I had that much money invested in them. Maybe the armed guards and attack dogs were justified.

  I walked Shelby around the inn so she could stretch her legs and do her business. As we walked, I realized I hadn’t eaten anything today. Sure I had watched granola bars, bananas, and ice cream be consumed by children at a terrifying rate but I hadn’t eaten anything myself. When I got into the room, I called Joe.

  “Yes, Liza. What do you need?”

  “Food.”

  “After all you’ve seen today?”

  “I’m still hungry.”

  “Okay, what do you want?

  “Cheeseburger, fries and a Diet Coke.”

  “I’ll order it and bring it as soon as it comes.”

  “Thanks, Joe.”

  “No problem.”

  I hung up, changed into a pair of shorts, and then waited for Jimmy. I couldn’t wait to get a close look at the journal. A few minutes later he arrived.

  He set the journal on the table. “Here it is. I can’t make heads or tails of anything on any of the pages.”

  “Let’s take a look.” I sat down at the table and Jimmy took the other chair.

  We pushed our chairs together and put the journal between us. The exterior color might have once been red, or it could have been a maroon. On the edges were pieces of dirty white lace. The rest of the doily was totally gone.

  I opened the first page. It was still damp and muddy. “Do you think if we dry these pages a bit, we might be able to read some of the writing underneath the mud?”

  “I don’t know.” Jimmy shrugged.

  “Let’s try it.” I got my blow dryer out of the bathroom and plugged it in next to the table. I set the dryer on low and waved it over the page. After several minutes, the page was dry. Then I got one of my makeup brushes and waved it lightly over the dried mud. It came off, like dust on the desert floor.

  The first thing I realized was that the book definitely belonged to Danielle Slammers. In the center of the first page, she had written her name and address. There was a small handwritten note asking anyone who might find the journal to return it to her.

  We weren’t as lucky with the next few pages. Obviously the ink she had used for her name was more permanent than the one used in the journal. When we dried and dusted off the mud, there wasn’t much left — just a few words here and there throughout the pages. On the first several pages we found the words: Sally, fire, timbers, and James. That confirmed my suspicious that Danielle had come to Clainsworth to investigate Sally’s death, then later started looking into James’ death, too. I made a list of all the words we found.

  We continued the same process with the next pages. Sometimes we were lucky and we’d get a few words together, but mostly they were just fragments.

  Joe arrived with my food. I picked at it while Jimmy continued drying the pages. Then he started picking at my food, too. In fact he ate most of my fries.

  “Didn’t you have lunch?” I asked.

  “No, too busy at the crash site.”

  I cut my cheeseburger in half and handed it to him.

  “Thanks.” He grabbed it and gobbled it down.

  We finished eating and went back to drying and dusting the pages. At page one hundred the journal stopped and jumped to page one hundred and twenty-nine. The rest of the pages were blank.

  Jimmy and I looked at the list of words we had: Sally, fire, timbers, James, top, the, right, ground, to the first, stop, hill, sister, tree on the, friend, computer, send, and fire in the. Except the first few word, the rest meant absolutely nothing to me.

  I set the paper on the table. “How are you doing with identifying the body?”

  “I sent the prints off to Centerville. Teachers all have to be fingerprinted, so we should know soon if it’s Danielle’s sister or not.”

  “I don’t think there’s much doubt, do you?”

  “I’m not totally convinced, but if it is, then it might put a whole new spin on Danielle’s death.”

  “I don’t think ‘might’ is the right word. It definitely means Danielle was murdered and her sister was killed because of something in the journal.”

  “It’s not going to be a popular theory.”

  “Yeah, I bet Lieutenant Damson is going to have a problem with it, for sure.”

  Jimmy chuckled. “Oh yeah. He told me Danielle’s death was a closed case and I shouldn’t look into it anymore.”

  “That sounds like him. By the way, did you check Sally and James’s deaths, too?”

  “I tried, but the lieutenant caught me and said those cases were closed too.”

  “How convenient.”

  “Yeah,” Jimmy said reluctantly.

  “Do you get the feeling you, me and Edith are the only ones who really
want the truth about those deaths?”

  “I’m starting to, yes.”

  Just then there was a loud knock at the door. Jimmy opened it and two other officers were standing there. “What do you want?” he asked.

  They pointed to me. “We have a warrant for her arrest.”

  I stood up. “Excuse me?”

  “What for?” Jimmy asked, standing between the two officers and me.

  “Attempted murder.”

  “What?” Jimmy and I said together.

  The officers walked around Jimmy and put handcuffs on me. “Where’s your gun?” one of the officers asked me.

  “It’s in the safe,” Jimmy answered. “I saw her put it there.”

  “Would you get it?”

  “Sure.” He opened the safe, took out my gun, and handed it to one of the officers.

  The officer sniffed the barrel and said, “It’s been fired recently.”

  “What?” I said. I hadn’t had that gun out since I’d put in it the safe a few days ago. How could it have been used recently? I hadn’t shot it for several weeks.

  I felt numb, too shocked to be scared. I just let them walk me out of the room.

  The last thing I heard as I headed down the hall of the inn was Jimmy saying, “I’ll take care of Shelby. We’ll get this straightened out.”

  “Thanks,” I called over my shoulder, as they led me away to the squad car.

  Chapter 20

  They took me through a back door of the police station, walked me down a short hall, and put me in a small room. The cell was a six foot square box with a metal bench, no windows, and bars instead of a door. When I heard the door slam closed, the knot in my stomach started to churn and panic set in. How could my gun have been fired if it hadn’t left the safe since I had been in Clainsworth? It wasn’t possible. I squeezed my eyes closed stifling the tears that were filling them. After several long slow deep breaths, I concentrated on slowing down my breathing and getting my emotions under control.

  Two hours later I still was in the cell. I’d passed numbness and panic, and was just angry. “Hello!” I screamed. “I’m tired of sitting here. Let me out!”

 

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