Burnout (Pecan Bayou Series)

by Teresa Trent

  "Mrs. Smith. I remember Mrs. Smith. Strawberry gum. She had strawberry gum." If I could only look her up in the phone book under strawberry gum I would have it made.

  "When did she give you strawberry gum at the newspaper office?" I asked.

  "Not at the newspaper, at the center."

  Danny was referring to the community center where he had his group meetings and gatherings for the disabled adults in town. I began to wonder if maybe Rocky hired her off of the job board they provided for Danny and his friends. Mrs. Smith didn't seem to have an outward disability, but things like that weren't always obvious.

  "Could you check and see if Rocky advertises on the job board?" I asked Aunt Maggie.

  "I can do you one better. They put the board notices in his newsletter." She went over to her desk in the next room and came back with a folded up piece of paper.

  "I can't see anything from last month, and I've thrown out all the old newsletters. I do know that if he did have a job listed in here Danny would have wanted to work for him."

  At least I knew where I needed to check next. I had an old friend from high school who worked down at the community center, and if Mrs. Smith spent any time there, she would know.

  *****

  "Oh yes, we love Mrs. Smith around here." Stephanie Gallegos told me an hour later. Stephanie ran several programs in the center including services for seniors, disabled adults, and an after-school tutoring program. The community center had been ineffective for many years, and we were blessed with her when she came back from college with a degree in social work. She brought our little center back to life.

  "Does she have a set schedule here?"

  "No, but she almost always comes to bingo on Fridays."

  I didn't know if I can wait. "Would you have her phone number anywhere?"

  "Now Betsy, you know that would be an invasion of her privacy." Stephanie said.

  "I know, but ..." I brought my voice level down to a whisper. "I think she might have been scheduled to work over at the newspaper right before it was burned to the ground. I need to ask her a few questions."

  Stephanie smiled. "So you're doing some detective work just like your dad, huh? Do you have your junior detective badge on right now or do you just carry it in your purse?" Stephanie's sense of humor hadn't changed much since high school.

  "Come on Stephanie, think of it as being for Rocky. I know he did lots of free ads for this place."

  "He did." She pursed her lips then looked both ways. She drew closer to my ear. "I won't give you her number, but I know for a fact she never misses going to Earl's every morning at around 10:30 for a mid-morning coffee. That good enough for you?"

  "That ought to do it."

  *****

  Catching up with Mrs. Smith would have to be tomorrow morning, so I decided to stop by the animal shelter and ask Pearly Schroeder about her past as a puppy mill criminal. As I swung open the door of the small one story frame building a noxious odor reached my nose. Why did it seem like that even the cleanest facilities had that smell? It was a mixture of wet dogs, urine, and something else that I couldn't even describe. I felt myself growing nauseous. Pearly sat behind a tall counter shuffling papers. She shared the small cluttered space with a man with a noticeable overbite who sat eating pork rinds. His hair was thinning on top just slightly, and when he smiled, his chubby cheeks reminded me of a tiny chipmunk. Pearly looked up and a sense of recognition came over her features.

  "You're the Happy Hinter! So nice to see you again. Let me introduce my husband, Reggie." Reggie was looking at a picture of downtown Pecan Bayou when she pushed him forward by the elbow. He extended his hand and nodded.

  "Wow. That's a recent picture. I can see the turkey in Ruby's window."

  "It's live." He beamed. "We get 5 to 10 hits an hour on Earthcam. Seems people want to know what small town life is like in the middle-of-nowhere Texas."

  "That's a live webcam of downtown? And anyone can access it?"

  "Sure. I can track who's watching it and everything. We have regular visitors from all over the world. Ain't the Internet great?"

  "Excuse me for asking, but why would you want a live feed of our downtown area?"

  "That's our extra layer of surveillance for protecting our animal friends. This town is too cheap to hire a dog catcher, so if there are any strays wandering around, Reggie here sees them on the camera and we run out and pick 'em up. We even record the feed at night so we can see what kind of varmints are roaming around, and then we can scout them during the day."

  I knew it was for a good cause, but it really bothered me to think somebody in another country was sitting in front of their computer eating a sandwich watching us go about our day to day lives.

  "I hope you're feeling better today? Maybe you've decided to adopt one of our little friends? This is just wonderful. Having a pet can reduce or even eliminate mild depression."

  I had to bet that very few people got away from her without a dog or cat.

  "Come on now." She looped her arm around mine.

  "No, Mrs. Schroeder. I just wanted to ask you a few questions. I was going through some of Rocky's research and found he had some notes about you." Ignoring me, Pearly Schroeder yanked me into a large back room full of cages. I was overwhelmed by loud barking and pungent odor. I needed to get out of there.

  "I'm not here to adopt..." I pinched my nostrils together with my fingers making my last words come out tinny. "...a pet." Pearly turned around abruptly and pulled me back out into the fresh, quiet air of the front office. For that I was grateful.

  "How could you be going through Rocky's notes if everything burned down in the fire?"

  "Rocky saved his files on a cloud." I could tell she had no idea what I was talking about.

  Reggie explained for me. "You know. He backed up his files in a data storage system online."

  "Oh."

  "I found a record of your criminal charges." The man behind her started looking confused at my statement. Pearly turned to him quickly.

  "Reggie do you think you could go into the back so we can check on little Snowball? She may be having those kittens any time now. Could you just make sure that she's comfortable enough?"

  "But, she said ..." Pearly didn't waver in her command.

  "Sure, Pearly."

  He still looked confused, but obediently he headed for the swinging door causing a fresh surge of odor to waft my way. I stepped back a bit and put my hand over my mouth and nose. Pearly noticed my action.

  "Sorry about the stink. It seems like no amount of Mr. Clean can take that away. I don't even smell it anymore. Now what was it Rocky had on me?"

  "What do you think he had in his notes?"

  She countered." I asked first so that means you have to tell me."

  " You were indicted on charges of running a puppy mill from your home before you came here to Pecan Bayou. Did Rocky talk to you about this?"

  She folded her arms on the counter and looked past me out the window. "You know something like that can follow you for the rest of your life. Remember that Betsy. There are some bells that just can't be unwrung. You need to take that advice to heart, dear."

  "Is it true?"

  "Yes it is true. That was a very bad time in my life, and I made some serious mistakes. It was from that experience I was molded into the person that I am today. What I did was wrong, and I learned and even grew from that. That was why I had to move here. No one would trust me anywhere near an animal, and I couldn't live like that. Animals are my life. They are the purest form of love. That's why I've dedicated the rest of my life not in raising puppies for sale, but in saving them. I'm paying my penance in creating just a little nicer place for them. I figure if all they say about karma is true, I have a lot of work to do to turn things around."

  Reggie stuck his head out the door. "Hey hon? Where are the puppy pee pads?"

  "See what I mean?" She said.

  Pearly certainly seemed sincere if not a little overboard. I st
ill didn't know if I trusted her though or even if her husband Reggie was really checking on Snowball in the back room.

  "Maybe Rocky made a mistake about you, Pearly." She looked redeemed by my statement. She started to relax.

  "Whatever Rocky dug up on me, I guess he was just doing his job."

  I nodded and started to leave, but as I was about to go out the door I turned around. "Just one more thing, where were you on the night of the fire?"

  Pearly Sloan tensed up again. "I was here." She said slowly and deliberately as if I was a small child.

  "Alone?" I asked.

  "Reggie was with me. He'll vouch for me. We were here until late cleaning up puppy poop. We had a sick puppy. I'll bet I could find some of the poop for you in case you want to have it analyzed."

  Just the thought of her bringing up a bag of decayed dog feces was about to send me over the edge. I covered my mouth again and headed out the door. I could hear the faint sound of a high-pitched laugh reminding me of the Wicked Witch of the West as I got into my car. I put the key in and looked up and noticed there was a piece of paper folded underneath my windshield wiper. I looked back over through the window of the animal shelter and could see that Pearly was no longer at the front desk. I stepped out of the car and grabbed the paper and unfolded it.

  My hand shook as I read the scrawled message.

  "You are not safe. Don't play with matches."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  "Sorry Betsy I was just finishing up my lunch. Do you mind?" My father took a big bite out of a greasy cheeseburger and crunched on it from behind his desk at the Pecan Bayou Police Department. It was truly the most disgusting sandwich I had ever seen in my life, and he was choosing to consume it.

  "No problem." I choked out. "I just wanted you to see what someone just left on my car."

  He put down his sandwich as I handed him the note. He adjusted his glasses on the end of his nose as he read the scrawled message.

  "Where did you say you found this?"

  "On my car parked outside the animal shelter."

  "Normally, I would say this is probably just a prank, but in light of all that's happened I think we need to take this pretty seriously. Is this the first time that you've been contacted with a message like this?"

  I stalled.

  "Betsy is this the first time?" His scowl revealed he was onto me. Nothing like having a father and a cop in one.

  "No," I admitted. "This is not the first warning that I've gotten. There was an anonymous e-mail with the same message."

  "Why didn't you tell me about it?"

  "I don't know. Maybe like you, I thought it was just random and not serious. A prank."

  "I'm going to keep hold of this note. Luckily the department already has our fingerprints on file, and maybe we can find another set."

  "Okay."

  "And if anything, I mean anything like this happens again I need to know about it right away, do you understand?"

  "I do," I said. "I also need to tell you about some of the things that I've found out about Rocky's last investigative articles. Nicholas Wendell has been helping me to look into Edgar West. We're pretty sure he's lying about what he was doing on the night of the fire."

  "Who is Nicholas Wendell?"

  "The new newspaper guy. He's setting up shop across the street from the old Gazette office."

  "That was fast."

  "I know, right? When I asked West where he was on the night of the fire, he said he was alone working on taxes. Don't you think that's a little bit strange that he's working on somebody's taxes in November?"

  "He said the same thing when we questioned him."

  "Yes, but Nicholas Wendell found out they were doing some work on his floor during that time so he didn't even have a computer set up. And one more thing...Nicholas says he has an incredibly bad credit rating."

  "Now that's a possible motive. Did he give you the names of any clients who could vouch for him??"

  "No. He just said he was working."

  "So there's no way to corroborate his alibi?" Mr. West was looking more and more guilty. If he wasn't in his office, was he over at the Gazette with a book of matches?

  "Oh my gosh."

  "Betsy, are you alright?"

  "You probably don't know this, but there's a web cam down Main Street. Pearly and Reggie Schroeder use one to be the virtual dog catcher. It's a live stream."

  "You mean there's a camera on us on Main Street? The whole world can see us, and nobody knows?"

  "Not only that, but they record the night feed to look for stray dogs and cats and catch them the next day."

  "What about the night of the fire? Does it show the Gazette?"

  Betsy thought about seeing Birdie's turkey in the window. "It would have been harder to see at night, but yeah, the Gazette would be in the picture."

  Ten minutes later we were back at the animal shelter. Reggie was sorting through digital files on his computer looking for the night of the fire.

  "We don't keep all of the recordings, but we kept this one because we got a nice shot of the fire. Talk about your reality TV."

  He pulled up a video of a darkened Main Street. The Pecan Bayou Diner sign now blinked neon through the blackness.

  "You just wait one minute, and you'll start to see a little bitty flame."

  Out of a top story window a small flame started rising up. Then another and another.

  "Can you go back?" I asked.

  Reggie slid the viewing bar on the screen. I had been focusing on the flames starting and didn't notice there was a clear outline of a person who was helping someone else into the building, but in what seemed like less than a minute only one person came back out.

  "Can you tell who that is?" My father asked.

  The figure was nearly in silhouette, but seemed to be taller than the other person being helped into the building.

  I squinted at the screen as Reggie reran the recording.

  "No. It's too blurry."

  "Oh! Oh!" Pearly said. "Stop the feed."

  We all turned to her. "There! Can't you see it?"

  "Oh yeah." Reggie said.

  We all looked at the screen where she was pointing to a small blur. "Looks like we got ourselves a stray cat."

  My dad's cell phone rang. "Okay Art, I'll be right over. Thanks for calling."

  "Art has something?"

  "That's why I'm headed there. I'm going to need a copy of that video."

  "No problem. Reggie will email it to you." Pearly said.

  "Betsy, do you want to come with me to the morgue?"

  As much as I wanted to know what Art had for us, I just couldn't handle going to the morgue.

  "I'll let you find out. Just drop me back by my car."

  "Sure. You still seem a little puny to me."

  If he only knew.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  It took me an hour to get the mixture of the cheeseburger and the puppy urine out of my nose, but I was finally starting to feel better. I sat working on the computer when Butch, our dog came over and put his head on my lap.

  "What's the matter, boy?"

  He looked up at me with big brown eyes. I bent closer as if he would utter a word in my ear. He tipped his snout up and licked my face. I couldn't decide if I felt loved or simply slobbered on.

  "Love you too."

  I turned back to my computer when the phone on the desk rang.

  "Betsy? This is Phyllis Hamlin. Just wanted to touch base with you on your part of the Harvest Dance."

  "Oh. Sure."

  "Right. Now you know you will be in charge of the pumpkin squares. I've taken the liberty of emailing you the recipe. We have served pumpkin squares every year for the last ten years at Nolan Ryan Middle School, and so you need realize the importance of creating this culinary delight. Our children look forward to their pumpkin squares."

  Good grief. I wasn't sure if I was making cookies or being asked to watch the royal jewels.

  "Thank yo
u, Phyllis. I'll do my best."

  "Very good. I realize that you haven't ever been a part of the royal circle before. I have been there many times with my son and my older daughter. She was Harvest queen all three years in middle school. My children have always been chosen for these honors up until this year when your son was voted in. I suppose we have to share the glory now and then."

  And all that "sharing" was killing her. "If it's any comfort to you Phyllis, we were all quite shocked about Tyler being the Harvest King. He's so new to the school; we didn't expect anything like this."

  "I'm sure it was a surprise. Your own son has never had any kind of honor like that."

  That hurt.

  "No. Not yet."

  "You can always hope. Now with the paper gone, I don't suppose there will be much press coverage for your stepson."

  I had wanted to find out what Phyllis knew, and now she had done me the courtesy of bringing up the fire. "Yes, too bad. You were certainly very vigilant in getting coverage for our kids."

  "I had to. That Rocky Whitson would have buried our press releases behind that idiot Shorty Martin's hunting articles or whatever else he thought was more newsworthy. Of course, not the valuable content you added as the Happy Hinter, but the rest of that paper was a mishmash of gossip, recipes and wild bits of news."

  "I don't know. I kind of liked the paper. It was Rocky's passion. I think he did a good job covering the town."

  "You worked for him dear. It's a little different when you're looking at it from my side. Our youth are our most important commodity."

  "I suppose you're right. It seems like the last time I saw you with him you were pretty angry."

  "Yes, I was. He had no right to bury that picture and then..." She began to choke up. "Then the way he talked to me as if I was a small child. That was uncalled for." She was really upset. Had she been hurt enough to start a fire?

  "I know you told me you had Bunco at your house on the night of the fire."

  "I did."

  "And I was just wondering if you ever had to run out for anything?"

  "Funny you should ask, but I did run out to pick up some more box wine. Confidentially some of those ladies can really put away the Pinot." She stopped speaking and then continued. "Why do you ask?"