6 Murder at the Art & Craft Fair

by Steve Demaree

  “I don’t think you’ve got the body for it, Lou.”

  “Guys can do it, too.”

  “I don’t want to even think about women tossing money at you.”

  “No, Cy! I mean at home.”

  “Listen, Lou, in a way these strange ideas of yours have to do with why I called you. What say we grab some lunch somewhere, talk over a few things, then maybe drop by Scene of the Crime and see if they have any books we don’t have?”

  “Am I going to dread what you want to talk about?”

  “Less than me envisioning you pole dancing.”

  “Okay, what time are you picking me up?”

  “I’m not. You still weigh too much. You’ll have to walk out to Lightning on your own, but give me an hour. That will give me time to Google exergaming.”

  “And give me time to talk you out of whatever fool ideas you might have.”

  +++

  It didn’t take me long after I typed “exergaming” that I realized I was already doing it. Wii Fit was a type of exergaming. So were some of the other Wii games I’d added to my life; tennis, boxing, bowling, to name three. I’d even started playing a lot of table tennis on the Wii. I was surprised at how quickly I got tired playing it, but at least the ball never rolled under the couch. From what I could tell dance games were the new craze. I planned to ask Lou if he’d gotten into any of them. I might be willing to try some of them, but I was ruling out pole dancing, unless Jennifer suggested it. And I sure wasn’t going to wear a tutu when I danced, even if no one else could see me. Thoughts of being watched while I Wiied made me wonder if George Orwell’s 1984 had come to be by way of YouTube and camera phones. At least I was thankful that I didn’t own a cell phone, and I had no idea how to put anything on YouTube. But then I knew all my friends except Lou had cell phones, and I was sure most of my friends could put something on YouTube and Facebook, so I knew I had to watch myself. I wanted to still be able to go out in public without people snickering when they saw me.

  I’d gotten comfortable with several exercises and had worked out an exercise plan for every week. On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I do aerobic exercises. Mondays and Fridays I usually stick to Wii Fit, warm up with Basic Step, move on to Advanced Step and Hula Hoop, and end up with Running, until I huff and puff and stop somewhere short of cardiac arrest. I’m at the point now where I can complete over half of the Ten Minute Run before I start huffing and puffing like I used to do ten seconds into my workout. On Tuesday and Thursdays I work on Strength exercises. I was lousy when I started the Strength exercises, so bad that most of the time I couldn’t even score one point, or last more than two or three minutes. So, I made it a point to continue with one exercise until I’d mastered it well enough that I had a decent score. Then, I moved on to the next Strength exercise. While I’m good at aerobics, I haven’t moved on too far with the Strength exercises. My exercise sergeant yells at me a lot. On days I do strength exercises, I work in a little Yoga and Balance exercises, too. While I wouldn’t call myself flexible, I would call myself improved.

  At least one day a week is playtime. That is a day when I turn to games most people play with real balls, or real boxing gloves. This is better than the real thing, because I never have to chase down a real tennis ball, or look for a golf ball that has gone astray. And I don’t get hurt when I lose a boxing match. Oh, I can be a little sore the next day, but my face doesn’t look like I lost a fight with a gorilla. Okay, maybe it does look that way, but it already looked that way when I got up.

  I try different approach spots while bowling, without having to pay for each game, always hoping to set a new high score. I feel a little guilty on the days I play games, like it isn’t really exercising, so I go a little longer. Depending on the exercise, and how much it takes out of me, I’m liable to go an hour and a half or two hours. Of course, I can’t go that long on the days I’m boxing or playing tennis, but I can easily play a few rounds of golf, provided I don’t get upset when my score is way over par. I still have that one hole every now and then when I’m so far over par it ruins my entire round.

  I read an article a while back that said that over ninety percent of the people who are trying to lose weight need to include both exercise and diet in order to lose weight, which was what my doctor ordered me to do. So, I’ve changed what I eat. I’ve experimented and come up with foods I can tolerate, even enjoy. My breakfast consists of either a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on whole wheat, without overloading the peanut butter and jelly, or I eat a whole grain cereal with almonds or walnuts and blueberries or strawberries. I pour almond milk over it, gulp it down, wait an hour or so, and then exercise. On days that I exercise early to avoid the heat, I eat one square of dark chocolate before exercising. Even though I’m indoors with air-conditioning, I still sweat if it’s warm outside.

  Most of the time, lunch is a sandwich, either peanut butter and jelly, if I eat cereal for breakfast, or an egg salad sandwich, again on whole wheat. I used to detest whole wheat, but now I’ve gotten used to it. And occasionally, I’ll eat a grilled chicken breast sandwich.

  A lot of times dinner is a salad with Romaine lettuce, spinach, and purple cabbage, tomato, broccoli, cucumber, maybe some egg, possibly a little cheese without overdoing it. Most nights I add a cut-up chicken breast or some flaked salmon. The only way I’ve stuck to the old days is that I still can’t stand any dressing I can see through, so I go with a small amount of Thousand Island or Blue Cheese. Because I’m pretty good on everything else I eat, I can get away with this.

  Each day, I allow myself some snacks, usually one in the morning and one in the afternoon. I eat an apple a day, usually a Fugi apple, and if I haven’t eaten any peanut butter, I smear some of that on the apple slices. And if I don’t have a chocolate square before exercising, later in the day, I eat one Ghirardelli dark chocolate 72 percent cacao square, which is a lot less than the number of Hershey Almond candy bars I used to eat, one almond and surrounding chocolate at a time. And if I haven’t had any nuts in my cereal, I will eat a handful of almonds or walnuts at some point during the day.

  This sure is a far cry from my former life, where the only exercise I got was walking from the car to the Blue Moon or walking a crime scene, and the food I fix myself is much different than what I used to eat out. But occasionally I’ll deviate from my routine. Lou and I will go somewhere for lunch or dinner. But when we do, we don’t pig out like we used to do. Oh to have the metabolism of those people who can eat anything at any time of the day or night and never gain weight.

  Chapter Three

  I quit thinking about food and exercise long enough to dart out the door and head to Lightning. I considered waiting to leave until my next-door neighbor came charging down my driveway, but then I brushed aside those thoughts and hoped God wasn’t going to punish me for thinking them.

  A few minutes later, I pulled up in front of Lou’s place. He came jogging out the front door. Yes, jogging! He about tore Lightning’s door off, plopped down on the seat, and turned and grinned at me. I’d known Lou long enough that I knew when he grinned it was bad for me. I waited him out, and I didn’t have to wait long.

  “So, Cy, how do you feel about Zumba?”

  “Let’s see, Zumba is either the maid your parents had when you were little, a witch doctor, or the name of the latest rapper.”

  “Cy, you know my parents didn’t have a maid when I was little.”

  “I like it when we are able to narrow our list of suspects so quickly.”

  “You might want to add to it first. While there may be a rapper or a witch doctor, neither of those is my Zumba. It doesn’t look like you spent much time looking up exergaming before you came to pick me up, so I guess I’d better clue you in, Clueless. Zumba is the latest craze. Well, it could be twenty years old, but it’s the latest as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Whatever it is, I’m not interested.”

  “But everybody’s doing it, Cy.”

  “All the
more reason why I’m not interested.”

  “Cy, Zumba is the in thing in exergaming. I guess you can call it a dance.”

  “Feel free to call it whatever you like. I’m not interested. Now, since you’re my best friend, I’m perfectly willing to come over to your place and watch you Zumba to your heart’s content.”

  “I guess you’re right, Cy. I don’t think you’re ready for Zumba yet. Maybe you should try Just Dance 3.”

  “Whatever happened to Just Dance 1 and 2?”

  “I think you’re beyond that already.”

  “They don’t call me Twinkle Toes for nothing.”

  I’d barely gotten the words out when I realize that I’d just given myself the same nickname as my next-door neighbor’s dog. Luckily, Lightning had pulled into Burkman’s parking lot before I got myself into any more trouble. I refrained from telling Lou that when I came over and watched him do any of these forms of exergaming, I’d spring for buying a game of my own if any of them looked good to me. And I wouldn’t hesitate to watch Jennifer anytime she wanted to Zumba. Maybe Lou was on to something.

  +++

  After Lou and I were seated, we were approached by a server who looked familiar from those nights when Lou and I used to pig out there. The look on our server’s face seemed somewhere between bemusement and amusement when Lou and I each ordered a pitcher of water with lemon. When he figured out we were serious he retreated to locate our beverages. It took him two trips, but he returned with two pitchers of water, two glasses, and a bowl full of lemons. He inquired as to whether or not we were ready to order, and we said, “Yes.” Lou went first.

  “I’ll have the spinach salad with salmon and raspberry vinaigrette dressing.”

  “I’ll have what he’s having, only make my dressing Thousand Island.”

  Our server merely stood there and smiled. After a brief silence, he said, “What do you really want?” He did remember us. It took almost a minute for me to convince him that we were serious.

  Most of the lunch crowd had cleared out before Lou and I arrived at Burkman’s, and no one was seated close enough to us to overhear our conversation. After Lou and I shared a chuckle about our server, Lou could control himself no longer.

  “So, what’s all the urgency about getting together, Cy? Did you decide to get married? You didn’t elope while you were gone on this trip, did you, Cy?”

  “I wanted to, but her daddy kept standing over me holding a shotgun.”

  “And you didn’t arrest him?”

  “It was out of my jurisdiction.”

  “Forget the elope thing. Did you decide to get married?”

  “Why, have you and Thelma Lou decided to tie the knot?”

  “I’m not much good at tying knots. Remember we skipped the Boy Scouts thing. It was too much like a junior Army. But I have thought about marriage a time or two. Thought about it. Not bought a ring. But, it wouldn’t take much to convince me, but I don’t want to abandon you, and I don’t think you’ve known Jennifer long enough to ask her hand in marriage, although I do think you’d probably be good for each other. After all, she’s Thelma Lou’s cousin, so it’s not like we have to check out her past.”

  “Lou, she does have a checkered past. I blame it on those red-and-white vinyl tablecloths at that diner where she used to eat all the time.”

  “That wasn’t her. That was you. And, remember, we always ate at the counter, and we didn’t have a tablecloth. We did have napkins, but I don’t remember you ever using one.”

  “That was you, my friend, back when you ate real food, and wiped your mouth on your sleeve.”

  “Cy, I thought this was going to be a serious conversation.”

  “Okay, Lou, as you know, I really like Jennifer, but I’m not ready to rush into marriage. Marriage is a big step. I don’t want to trip. Still, I wouldn’t mind spending more time with her.”

  “Are you telling me that you’re moving down to where she lives and I’m on my own? Is that what this lunch date is all about?”

  “Lou, I would never consider any meal alone with you a date. And no, I don’t plan to leave you and move where Jennifer lives. But remember, she has talked about moving up here. And anyway, if I ever leave Hilldale, it would be to move to Lexington. I know it’s only an hour away, but I would never move there unless I did a trial test of spending a few weeks there. And I’m not sure I’d ever move there unless you did. How do you feel about that?”

  “I’m glad I mean so much to you, Cy. It must be those birthday and Christmas presents I give you each year. The only way I’d ever consider moving is if Thelma Lou and I decide to get married, and even then I’m not sure I want to go to the big city. Still, I agree with you. Lexington is the only place I’d consider leaving Hilldale for. Of course, even an hour is pretty far to commute to a murder investigation each day.”

  “Glad you brought that up. That’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Lou and I talked and ate for close to an hour and found out that we thought similarly about everything. We’d seriously consider teaching someone else the ropes of a homicide investigation, just in case we wanted to be free to go and do whatever we wanted to do whenever we wanted to do it, whether we moved away or not. And both of us knew that we weren’t getting any younger, so we’d better get in better shape while we’re still able. Lou had already done a good job of it. He’d already lost over fifty pounds. He was well on his way to being down to one human being. While I was far from that, the over twenty pounds I’d lost helped me to look a little less like a float in a Macy’s parade.

  +++

  With no set time to do anything, we took our time eating and talking and then got up, walked out, and rejoined Lightning. We were off on our way to Scene of the Crime to add a few mysteries to our collections.

  The owner, Myrtle Evans, smiled when we walked in. For her, each time we walk in she must feel like someone has remembered her in their will. Well, we don’t buy that much, but with the two of us buying copies of the same books, any day we walk into her bookstore her day goes from an okay day to a good one.

  “Why, hello boys. I’m sorry, but I haven’t had a chance to select some books for you.”

  “That’s okay, Mrs. E. We’ve got plenty of time. We’ll just browse and pick out a few new books to read.”

  She smiled again.

  Lou and I always buy the same books, read them in the same order, and discuss each book after we finish it. For the next forty-five minutes we walked those wooden floors in and out of rooms named Cozy, Police Procedural, FBI/CIA, Historical, Classics, and a couple of others. The aisles of Scene of the Crime were wide enough to accommodate the shopping carts both of us pushed, as, a little at a time we loaded our carts with our selections. Our choices included Tripwire by Lee Child, Hour Game by David Baldacci, Plum Island by Nelson DeMille, Transfer of Power by Vince Flynn, The Tenth Justice by Brad Meltzer, Dead in the Water by Stuart Woods, The Black Echo by Michael Connelly, Design for Murder and Scandal in Fair Haven by Carolyn Hart, Death of an Expert Witness by P.D. James, The Canary Murder Case by S.S. Van Dine, The Case of the Curious Bride by Erle Stanley Gardner, and Death of the Nile by Agatha Christie. Thirteen books. Thirteen hardback books. What a fitting number for a reader of mysteries. Over $300 worth of books each. Barring any more murders, my next few weeks were set. Wii and read. Read and Wii. What more could a guy want? And then my thoughts turned to Jennifer. How much did I want to see her? Was it every now and then, or did I want to share a commode seat and a toothbrush with the love of my life? I settled that last part quickly. If we married, the house would have at least two bathrooms and two toothbrushes. Two tubes of toothpaste, too. I didn’t know where she squeezed the toothbrush. Probably in the middle. At least that’s where she squeezed me, her main squeeze. But I had to put Jennifer aside for a while, if I wanted to get any reading done. Maybe I would dream about my love life when I went to bed, but I was ready to be a crime fighter, without actually leaving my hous
e and fighting any crime.

  Chapter Four

  The next day I was busy reading, almost finished with the first book I’d purchased the day before, which was quite an accomplishment considering that most of the books we bought were thick books with lots of pages. I had only forty pages left and was anxious to see if my suspicions were correct as to who the murderer was, when the phone rang. I almost didn’t get it, but then I thought, “What if it’s important?”

  “Cy, this is George.”

  George Michaelson is the only other lieutenant on the Hilldale Police Department, a good friend, and someone who is always eager to have fun at my expense.

  “Have you missed me, George?”

  “Come to think of it, things have been a lot more efficient around here lately. But that’s not the reason I called. Do you know some guy named Bill O’Connell?”

  “Lou and I went to school with a guy by that name, but I haven’t seen or heard from him in years. Could that be the Bill O’Connell you mean?”

  “How would I know? All I know is that you’ve got a letter down here, and Bill O’Connell is the name that’s listed with the return address.”

  “Where’s he live?”

  “Wilmington, North Carolina. Where does your Bill O’Connell live?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve haven’t seen or heard from him since high school.”

  “Then it makes perfect sense why you asked me where this one lives, since it wouldn’t help you to identify him. Did your Bill O’Connell look like someone who would grow up and live near the Atlantic Ocean?”

  “I don’t know. What do they look like?”

  “Leathery skin, looks older than he is. How would I know, Cy? I’ve never been there. Maybe he’s looking into being arrested for murder and wants to know how good you are at solving one.”

  “Then you can answer the letter. On second thought, forget that. I don’t trust you.”

  “I must remember to live down to your expectations, Cy. Now, are you coming to get this letter, or do I mark ‘deceased’ on it and send it back to him?”