“Germany is so silly,” I said, shaking my head. “Not mean like his parents, but just as weird.”
Miss May turned to Teeny. “Don’t you think he’d be good for Chelsea?”
Teeny shook her head. “No way. I’m Team Wayne. I like my men tall and tough.”
“And bearded?” I asked with a sly grin.
“Beards are fine, if they’re done right,” Teeny said. I don’t think she got the reference to Big Dan.
Wallace shook his fist in anger and yelled as Germany pulled away and disappeared down Main Street.
“What do you think Wallace is saying?” I asked.
“Let’s find out.” Miss May rolled the window down and we could hear Wallace with perfect clarity.
“Stupid idiot kid! Don’t just leave the ice cream on the ground. It’s still good. A little dirt, sure. But it’s healthy to eat dirt! Builds up the immune system.”
Teeny tsk-tsked. “Healthy dirt? This guy is nuts.”
“That’s true,” I said. “Especially for babies. The more dirt babies eat, the stronger their immune systems are later in life.”
Teeny rolled her eyes. “Save it for Jeopardy, Chelsea.”
I shrugged. “Fine. I will. But you better be nice or I won’t share my winnings with you. Or take you on my victory cruise.”
Teeny looked over at me, “Awwww, I want to go on the cruise.”
I laughed. “OK. You can come.”
Over the next hour, we stayed parked, watching Wallace. At one point, he almost got hit by a car. Then he almost got hit by a bus. He also chased Sudeer across the road, screaming about the atrocities that Massive Mart would bring upon the town.
Finally, Chief Flanagan showed up and scared Wallace off the corner. Miss May put the VW bus in gear and slowly followed Wallace as he trudged toward the outskirts of town.
“What are we doing now?” Teeny asked.
“Stakeout, part two. Following the suspect to see what he reveals.”
“We’re in a giant yellow bus,” Teeny said. “You don’t think he notices us?”
Wallace did a spin move, then grabbed his crotch like Michael Jackson.
“Anyone else? I’d say you have a good point,” Miss May said. “But Wallace is too distracted for that.”
“Do you think Wallace is also the thief who’s been hitting businesses around town?” I asked.
Miss May shrugged. “I’m not sure. It seems like he had a decent motive for killing Rosenberg. But I don’t quite see a motive for the burglaries.”
“I see a motive,” Teeny said. “The guy doesn’t seem like he has much money. Maybe he steals stuff and then sells it on the black market.”
“I don’t know if there’s a black market for Petey’s farm to table produce,” I said.
“I bet he ate that stuff,” Teeny said.
Miss May pointed out the window. “Look. He’s walking up into the woods.”
Sure enough, Wallace was trudging up a steep hill into a thick patch of trees outside town. Teeny opened her door and slipped one foot out of the van. “So let’s go. Let’s follow him up there!”
Miss May shook her head. “I’m not sure I want to follow a suspected killer into the forest.”
“Why not?” Teeny said. “I’ve got my olive oil spray.”
Miss May kept her eyes trained on Wallace as he marched further into the forest. “It’s almost dark. We’ll head up there first chance we get. When it’s daylight.”
“And maybe when we know Wallace is in town,” I suggested. “So we won’t get ambushed once we get up there.”
“Exactly.” Miss May lingered a few more seconds as Wallace disappeared into the forest. Then she put the bus back in gear, and we headed home.
20
Out of the Shell
THAT NIGHT, MISS MAY and I baked a few batches of her famous apple pie cookies, aka Appie Oaters, to sell that weekend in the shop.
It pleased me when Miss May put me in charge of the apples instead of the dough. Over the years, I had done both jobs, but the apples were always more fun to prepare than the dough.
I began by selecting the perfect combination of sweet and tangy apples. After I peeled and chopped, I caramelized the whole batch in coconut oil, brown sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg using one of Miss May’s enormous frying pans.
Before long, the entire bake shop filled with the smell of apples and spices, all forming into a delicious syrup in the pan.
I tasted the mix and closed my eyes to savor the flavor. The apples were soft. And the brown sugar sauce was just sweet enough to emphasize the tartness in the apples without overwhelming it.
I took another taste. And then another. OK. I had a bunch of tastes. Then I combined the apples with Miss May’s dough and we balled the cookies and set them to bake.
As we worked, I tried several times to bring up the investigation, but Miss May wasn’t feeling very talkative.
“I don’t have the answers, Chelsea,” she said. “We need to find out what Wallace is doing up in the forest. Once we get that information, we’ll know what to do.”
“But—”
“But there’s nothing else to talk about,” Miss May said. “Why don’t you relax? Take a bath.”
“Why?” I asked. “Am I sweaty? Do I smell? I took a shower this morning.”
Miss May laughed. “You don’t smell. I just meant... It might be useful to take our minds off the investigation for a bit. Often when you relax your brain, good ideas show up unprompted.”
“I can’t relax my brain on command. My brain does what it wants. It has a mind of its own!”
Miss May set a timer for the cookies. “Fine. I’ll take a bath.”
Once the cookies had finished baking, I walked out to the barn to visit my friend, See-Saw the tiny horse.
On prior investigations, I’d had important breakthroughs while chatting with See-Saw. I was hoping for a similar talk that night, but like my aunt, See-Saw wasn’t in the mood to discuss the investigation. The more I discussed the details of the case, the louder she chewed.
But then I brought up my encounter with the illustrious Detective Wayne Hudson and her ears perked up. See-Saw listened as I told her how I had run into Wayne at the bakeshop. But when I mentioned that he asked me on a movie date, she gave a disapproving snort.
“What’s with the snort,” I said. “You don’t like Wayne anymore?”
See-Saw stamped her hooves.
“I know he’s been unavailable,” I said. “But it was a work thing! And we had that amazing dance. Remember? We have such good chemistry. Shouldn’t I see where the relationship goes?”
Another stamp from See-Saw. She was not feeling Wayne that evening.
“That’s true,” I agreed. “He has shut me out of every case. But he’s a cop, what would it look like if invited civilians to take part in his investigations?”
Stamp. Snort.
“I know. You’re right. He doesn’t give me or Miss May credit, even when we’re the ones who solve the mysteries. But I kind of like Wayne’s stubborn side. He’s a proud guy. People say that was how my dad was.”
See-Saw turned back to her oats. She wasn’t in the mood to talk dead parents that night, and I couldn’t blame her.
“Maybe I should give Wayne a call,” I said. “What you think about that?”
See-Saw didn’t look up. I pulled out my phone and scrolled to Wayne’s name. And I was about to hit call when I heard footsteps behind me.
I turned just as Germany Turtle entered the barn holding a bouquet of roses. “My goodness. You’re more beautiful in the moonlight than in the light of the karate dojo.”
I blushed. I couldn’t help it. Ugh. Germany’s lines were cringe-y but so sincere.
“Germany. Hi.”
“May I come in?”
I gestured to See-Saw. “That’s up to her. I’m just a visitor here.”
Germany entered with a smile. “My! What a wonderful animal. Is this a baby horse or a child horse?
”
I laughed. “This is our tiny horse, See-Saw. Have you never seen a tiny horse before?”
“I’m sad to say I have not. The wildlife of Africa is diverse but usually quite large. Not tiny at all. A horse like this would be eaten by the lions instantly. Reduced to a cavity of bones to be picked at by the buzzards and hyenas on the Sahara.”
See-Saw looked up and whinnied. She didn’t like Germany’s candor.
“I’m being rude, aren’t I?” Germany said. “I’m sorry, See-Saw. I would never want the pride to eat you.”
Germany reached out a tentative hand to pet See-Saw. She nudged her nose into Germany’s palm. He gave a delighted gasp.
“My! What a nice equine. I heard you chatting with her earlier. I hope it’s all right that I interrupted. I knocked upon the door of your farmhouse and had a wonderful interaction with your aunt. She offered me a fresh baked cookie, the likes of which even the most accomplished bakers in Paris and Milan shall never match.”
“That’s a very flattering way to talk about Miss May’s Appie Oaters,” I said. “I helped her make them.”
“Don’t tell me that,” said Germany. “My admiration for you is already overwhelming.”
I looked at Germany. “Are you for real?”
“What do you mean? Is that a question of my existential identity? Because I have given the matter a lot of thought and I have decided that, like the Velveteen Rabbit, I will only become real when all my buttons and whiskers have been loved off. Preferably by you.”
Germany smiled, and I burst into giggles. I couldn’t help it. Germany was too much. Just too much! I cleared my throat and awkwardly shifted the conversation away from the young Turtle’s affections.
“So you had a nice chat with Miss May, huh?”
“Oh yes. She is kind but intimidating. Is it true she was the most formidable prosecutor at all of New York City?”
“That’s what I’ve heard.” I’d also heard otherwise, but I would not get into that. “But I’ve only ever known her as a baker. And kind of a mom.”
“Ah yes. Fellow orphans.” Germany held up his palm, and I realized he was going for a high-five.
“You want to high-five over being orphans?”
“I have heard high-fives are used as an expression of solidarity or camaraderie. Inappropriate in this instance?”
I laughed. “Kind of, yeah.”
Germany lowered his hand. “Ah. Well. Now I feel a fool. Perhaps I should leave you here to continue your deeply personal conversation with See-Saw the tiny horse.”
I turned redder than a ripe Red Delicious. “You heard that?”
“Only the last part, about whether you should contact the large detective via telephone. My vote would be no, as you might imagine.” Germany noticed my flushing cheeks. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I wish I had a horse in which I could confide. Tiny or regular-sized.”
I picked up a handful oats and fed them to See-Saw. Germany resumed petting her.
“You could confide in See-Saw,” I said. “If you want to. I don’t want to hog her wisdom.”
“Oh. Then perhaps I will.” Germany grabbed a handful oats and stepped closer to See-Saw. “Hello horse. Please accept this as my formal invitation to enter a friendship. I’m new in town, and recently de-parented. So I am seeking meaningful connections to salve my wounds.”
Woof! That got personal real fast.
When I had first arrived in Pine Grove, I’d had a bad habit of crying constantly. I had gotten over that habit, but at that moment, I had to fight to swallow the lump in my throat. Germany Turtle was getting my emotional goat. Or my emotional tiny horse, I guess.
“You’re lucky to have such a wonderful companion in See-Saw,” Germany said.
He and I made eye contact.
“Chelsea, there’s something you should know,” Germany said. “And it’s that I find you fascinating. Funny and smart. Perhaps not street smart but book smart. I like that. The streets confound me as well. I also find you charming and beautiful. And I think your love for this tiny horse speaks volumes about the merit of your character. Frankly, I would like to date you. You may have understood that already, based on our first interaction. But I wanted to state it clearly now.”
I wasn’t sure what to say or do in response to Germany’s declaration. Yes, he’d already made it clear that he liked me. But something about that moment, standing there with him, in the barn, listening to his unabashed praise, gave me butterflies. Or were they moths? I stammered, unable to find the right words.
“You don’t need to say anything,” Germany continued. “Not yet. I’m not proposing marriage. I’m not professing wild, moonstruck love, however much I might want to. I’m a romantic at heart. But I am telling you that I’m working on my muscle tone. Soon I too will be a hunk of sizzling beef with a side of more beef and beef for dessert. Just like your detective. And I’m opening a tutor shop in town. So I will be fully employed in short order. The tutor shop will be called Germany’s German Tutor Shop and it will be a great success.”
My inner know-it-all kicked in, and I found my voice. “Do you mean like a tutoring service? Like where you’re a teacher? I don’t think they call those shops.”
“Oh. Yes. That’s what I mean.”
I laughed. “How did you decide on German? Pine Grove High doesn’t even offer classes in German.”
“Interesting,” Germany said. “I don’t speak German, either. I liked the name. Perhaps I should open another business?”
“Don’t ask me! My business was a disaster.” Well, it had been a success until my runaway fiancé had stolen it. But still...
“Perhaps I could volunteer,” Germany said. “My parents, although they struggled with money toward the end, squirreled away significant funds for my inheritance and had a substantial life insurance policy. So I’m not in dire need of opening a tutor shop or any other shop.”
See-Saw stamped and turned in a circle.
“That appears to be my cue,” Germany said. “The tiny horse has tired of my pontificating. Alas, I shall alight back to my home on foot. May I hug you as a platonic friend?”
“No one has ever asked me that before,” I said.
“Well,” Germany said. “You don’t have to answer now. Think about it. For next time. And whatever you do in this investigation of the Rosenberg slaying... Please maintain your safety as a top priority.”
I nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
21
Hot Sauce and Havoc
THE NEXT MORNING, OUR mission was to trek up into the forest to figure out what Wallace had been doing up there. But first we had to make sure he was somewhere in town, that way we’d know the coast was clear in the forest.
Our first stop? Miss May and I met Teeny for breakfast at Peter’s Land and Sea. But before we entered the restaurant, Petey exploded out the front door with a scream.
“I can’t do this! I quit. I want to go back to high school!”
Petey froze when he saw us, then jumped back into his ‘restauranteur’ persona. “Oh. Greetings, ladies. Here to join us for breakfast? Right this way.”
“Not so fast, Petey,” Teeny said. “You can’t pretend we didn’t see that.”
“Oh. That? I was just blowing off steam. Not a big deal.”
Teeny put her hand on Petey’s arm. “Petey. It’s OK. You can talk to us.”
Petey’s lip quivered. “Fine. I’m overwhelmed! I can’t do this. I’m not a restauranteur. I didn’t even graduate from high school.”
Teeny shook her head. “You are a restauranteur, Petey. Look at this place. It’s beautiful. And you were the best employee I ever had. Also, you’re a better cook than me! I’m a genius with recipes, but your execution is superb.”
Petey kicked the ground. “That’s a lie. You’re the best cook in Pine Grove.”
“But I can’t do fancy stuff like you,” Teeny said. “Listen, I get it. Running a restaurant can be overwhelming. But you’re doing
solid work. You just need to stay calm and take it one dish at a time.”
“You think so?” Petey asked.
Teeny nodded. “The first few weeks after I took over Grandma’s from my mom, I was an absolute mess. I didn’t get any orders right. I bought two hundred gallons of expired milk. My hair-clip fell out and I baked it into someone’s quiche. But then things got easier. And it all turned around. The same thing will happen to you.”
Petey stood a little taller. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I can do this. You think I can do this?”
“We all do, son,” Miss May said. “But right now you need to turn around. Your kitchen is smoking.”
Petey turned around. Sure enough, smoke plumed from the kitchen. Petey bolted inside like a roadrunner.
“You really think he’ll be okay?” I asked.
“I do,” Teeny said. “But I’m not going to eat in there today. What do you say? Brown Cow for a cup of coffee and a chocolate chip muffin?”
Miss May and I nodded, and we turned and walked in the other direction as the fire alarm blared from inside Peter’s Land and Sea.
I smiled as we entered the shop. My favorite barista, Rita, was working behind the counter. Her co-worker, Willow, cleaned tables in the seating area.
A few of our prior investigations had involved Rita, and she was always good for the most recent Pine Grove gossip. Plus, she usually had adorable photos of her little baby, Vinny Jr., on her phone. And she made my coffee drinks just right. Light on the coffee, heavy on the cream. And sugar. And whipped cream. And did I mention sugar?
I asked Rita if she had seen Wallace the Traveler in town that morning and she shrugged. “Most days that guy is out on the street before we open. But not today. You ask me it’s a refreshing change of pace. The guy can dance but he’s vulgar.”
Willow called out from across the room. “I haven't seen him either!"
A few minutes later, I reconvened with Teeny and Miss May. Each had spoken to other townspeople but neither had information about Wallace’s whereabouts.
“If he’s not in town, he must still be up in the forest,” Miss May said.
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