The Body in the Boat

by Ami Diane

  ANOTHER storm had blown through sometime during the night, leaving behind a white, glittering landscape that reached Ella’s thighs. As she closed the back door to Grandma’s Kitchen, she brushed snow off her jeans and stomped her boots over the worn mat. At least she didn’t have to change into her uniform on Fridays.

  Ella helped Horatio prep for the day, her hands alternating between cutting beefsteak tomatoes into thick slices and sipping coffee. Her conversation with Dot the previous day replayed in her mind.

  “Hey Horatio, I’ve got a question for you. Did you already live here when Lilly and Stan arrived in Keystone?”

  “Don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason.” But she couldn’t shake Dot’s words. How dare you call that woman his wife… After a moment, she asked, “Lilly is Stan’s wife, right?”

  Horatio’s hands paused over the onion he’d been slicing as he looked up at her with a strange expression. “I guess? I mean, I didn’t go to their wedding or anything, but she does call herself Mrs. Tanner, so I’m assuming they were married.”

  Ella hunted Wink down, who was in the middle of scrubbing the charred wall in the diner, and asked the same question.

  “I don’t recall a ceremony, now that you ask, and if they’d had one, I would’ve heard about it. They must’ve been married before getting here.” She dipped the sponge into the soapy water and attacked the singed edges of the hole with vigor. “That’s interesting. I can’t say as I remember them arriving, actually. ‘Course, back in that time, it was a little chaotic. It was easy to overlook the new arrivals.”

  Ella left Wink to greet a customer. Later, she made a note of the questionable marriage in her app. Perhaps what Dot had said had simply been the ramblings of a mad woman—in both senses of the word. The woman had nearly blown her head off with a shotgun. Then again, so had Flo.

  After work, Ella dug the map out from under her bed and trudged through the snow, poster tube resting on her shoulders, as she made her way to the library. Thankfully, Gabby was working again that day and not her cantankerous aunt.

  “Thank you again for letting me borrow this,” Ella said, rolling the tube across the reference desk.

  “Did it help?” Gabby eyes were eager as she nudged her glasses further up her button nose.

  “We’ll see. I hope it does, though.”

  “Still can’t tell me why you needed it?”

  Ella tipped her head, considering letting the librarian in on her project. But if she was anything like the other townspeople, she’d probably discourage Ella from pursuing the matter.

  “Not yet. But if it looks like it’ll benefit the town in any way, you’ll be one of the first I tell.”

  Gabby beamed. “Well, if you ever need help, you know where to find me.”

  Ella returned the smile. With nothing better to do and with four hours of free time stretching before her, she wandered into the town’s newspaper archives again. As she walked past the rows and rows of binders, a weathered brown spine caught her eye.

  Ella slid the cracked leather notebook from the shelf and held it up. “Hey, Gabs—can I call you Gabs? What’s this?”

  The librarian looked up from the book she was reading and scrunched her nose as she squinted. “Town records. My aunt says that during the first few jumps, many people came and went, and in the chaos, they had a hard time keeping track of everyone. Many went missing, presumed left behind. And a lot of new people got stuck here. So, the mayor at the time decided more thorough record keeping or a census was in order. Now, it gets updated infrequently. Honestly, I think the council’s forgotten about it.”

  Ella’s bottom lip caught between her teeth. “So, this would have the names of all the citizens for the past few years?”

  “Mostly, yeah.” Gabby’s eyes fell back to the open pages before her.

  Carefully, Ella slid out the leather-bound records book and combed through it with anxious fingers. If what Dot had said about Lilly Tanner was true, that she wasn’t Stan’s wife, then this book might reveal the answer. Of course, if they’d gotten married after arriving in Keystone, then all bets were off, and she’d have to rely on Wink’s memory.

  Without knowing when they had arrived in town, she began with the most recent year of 1962 and worked her way backwards.

  Nearly an hour later, Ella massaged the building headache in her temples as she flipped through the 1951 section, nearing the beginning of the jumps. Her stomach grumbled in protest for having had a light lunch, and she was just about to call it a day when she spotted the name Stanley Tanner.

  Ella took in a sharp breath and ran her finger over the faded paper to the name next to him. Lilly Fisher.

  She hadn’t realized she’d let out a small gasp until Gabby’s head popped up. “Everything okay?”

  Ella could only nod.

  What did this mean? It didn’t really prove much except that the couple weren’t married prior to arriving in Keystone, did it? Maybe they got married after their arrival.

  Although, it would’ve had to have been a quiet ceremony for Wink not to have heard about it. Ella’s cynicism over relationships came up with a new explanation.

  Perhaps Stanley and Lilly had been having an affair and escaped to Keystone to start a new life, not knowing they would be trapped in the village. During the 1950s, an affair would have been an especially scandalous ordeal—one worth running and starting a new life for.

  Replacing the book on the shelf, she selected one of the binders from 1951. If the couple were newcomers in the town during that year, Keystone Corner would have written a profile on them. Maybe it would hold more information about their relationship at the time, whether written or between the lines.

  Sitting at the nearest table, she let the binder fall open then flipped to the beginning and worked her way through 1951. Dust and years filled her nostrils and made her sneeze. Each turn of the page made a crinkling sound from the protective sheet that covered the aging, yellowing newspaper clippings.

  Over the next half hour, a couple souls braved the weather and trickled through the library, coming and going, while Ella remained. Her stomach growled again, and she mentally kicked herself for not grabbing a snack before she’d left.

  As the late afternoon aged into a dark evening, Gabby wandered over to the table and plopped a bag of nuts in front of Ella.

  “I couldn’t help but overhear your hunger and took pity on you.”

  “Heh, you heard that?”

  Social convention dictated Ella should be polite and refuse the nuts, but her hunger would let her do no such thing. Grabbing a handful, she shoveled them into her mouth. It was nearing 5:00, and she should leave soon to help prepare dinner.

  Gabby dropped into the chair next to Ella. It creaked from years of use or disuse, Ella wasn’t sure. Her copper braid fell over her shoulder as she said, “You’ve had your nose in those news articles all day. What’s so interesting about them?”

  Ella glanced at her and popped another nut in her mouth. “A few things, actually. For one, Shelly Rossi wants to interview me for a profile. I thought reading past pieces would make me less nervous. It doesn’t.

  “Also, since I’m still new, these clippings are helping me learn the town’s history.” She paused and peeked over at the librarian. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but people aren’t exactly forthcoming about the past here.”

  Gabby actually smiled, revealing a row of crooked teeth. “Yeah, we do like our secrets. Stay here long enough, and you’ll have some of your own.” Her smile quickly faded, and she added, “Honestly, I think it’s just too painful for people to talk about.”

  “I get that.” She absently slipped through more pages of the binder. Then, she looked sideways at her new friend. “Did you know when Stanley and Lilly Tanner arrived in town, they weren’t married?”

  Gabby’s eyes popped open. “What? Are you sure?”

  Ella nodded and retrieved the records book from the bookshelf agai
n. Flipping to the correct date in 1951, she turned it around so Gabby could see.

  The librarian’s eyes squinted as she took in the two names. Her expression shifted from shock to confusion. “Who’s David Fisher?”

  “What?” Ella turned the book around, and Gabby pointed a thick finger at a name scrawled further down the list.

  David Fisher.

  “Do you think he might have been Lilly’s brother?”

  “Possibly,” Ella said. But a tight knot worked its way into her gut. “More importantly, where is he? What happened to him? Are you sure you don’t know anyone by the name?”

  The librarian’s hand went to her braid as she mumbled the name softly a few times to herself, searching through her memory. “There’s a David Carter. He’s about ninety and wears his long johns every where.”

  “Who leaves the butt flap open? The one who shot Sal’s dog, thinking it was a gopher?”

  “That’s him. How he got a Saint Bernard and gopher mixed up, I’ll never guess.” She clicked her tongue. “Oh, never mind. I remember his arrival. It was only about five years ago. In that case, I have no clue who David Fisher is. Maybe he got left behind in a subsequent flash?”

  They looked at each. Both seemed to have the same thought as they launched themselves at the open binder of newspaper clippings.

  Ella asked, “What was the date of their arrival in the records—”

  “October 15, 1951,” Gabby said, her finger already marking the spot.

  The articles were organized chronologically. Within a minute, Ella found the month of December. The headline for that week related to an E. coli outbreak in the town’s water supply.

  The bottom half of the page was taken up by a list of dozens of names printed in minuscule font of all who’d gone missing since the first jump. All lost.

  Ella recognized many of the last names, many relatives of patrons who frequented the diner. She ran a finger down the list, but David Fisher wasn’t amongst them.

  She flipped the page to the profile section for that week. There were a couple family profiles and one individual. It wasn’t until she flipped the page that she found the profile she’d been searching for.

  Gabby craned her head around and read the piece aloud. “Stanley Tanner and Mr. and Mrs. Fisher arrived in Keystone Village the previous week. They hail from Michigan and have left behind no family or children…’ That’s good, I guess.”

  But Ella had stopped listening. Her eyes were drawn to the black-and-white print photo above the article. She recognized the background as the bland living room in the Tanners’ house.

  Stan stood next to Lilly, a strange smile on his face. Lilly scowled at the camera, her right arm draped over the shoulder of a man in a wheelchair.

  Gabby’s voice came back into focus. “…Mr. Fisher uses a wheelchair as a result of having contracted polio in his youth.’ Ella? Are you okay?”

  Gabby nudged Ella and repeated her question.

  Startling, Ella scooped up the binder from under Gabby’s nose, keeping her finger on the page to keep her place. “Sorry, I have to borrow this.”

  She sprinted for the door, yelling over her shoulder, “Thanks for your help! I’ll bring this back, I promise!” Without another word, she flew outside.

  Her mind reeled from the find. David Fisher had been Lilly’s husband. David Fisher was the skeleton from the lake. But who had killed him?

  She was grateful the sheriff’s office was next door to the library. Darting across the alley, she pounded on the wooden door.

  “Sheriff!”

  The blinds were closed, the edges around them dark.

  Chewing the inside of her cheek, she blinked at the dark sky and used the amber glow from a nearby streetlamp to check the time. It was only 5:30. Where was he? He was always in the office. She was proud of him for finally leaving work at a decent hour, but the one time she needed him, he wasn’t there.

  Still clutching the binder, she hiked over a snow berm and into the street. Thankfully, someone had plowed a narrow lane down it, and it made for quicker walking. She decided to run home and ask Rose where Chapman lived.

  A light snow began to fall. She tucked the binder inside her jacket to keep it from getting wet. It held snugly against her stomach when she zipped up the jacket, freeing up her arms.

  Ahead, the sound of an approaching vehicle pulled her attention. Ella looked left then right. Unless she learned to fly, she was going to have to climb out of the trough of road.

  Muttering under her breath about crazy drivers being on the road during a snowstorm, Ella began to hike back up the berm to make room for the vehicle.

  Halfway up, her boots slipped, and she slid back into the street. The car was two blocks away now, traveling far faster than was safe given the conditions of the road. It revved its engine, and Ella could swear the driver pressed on the gas.

  She used her hand to shield her eyes from a glaring single headlight while simultaneously flipping the driver off.

  As she scrambled up the snow, the roar of the engine grew. She heard the vehicle a yard away, sliding and scraping the berm.

  Ella reached the top and dove, landing on top of a parked car half buried in snow. She yelled and shook her fist like an old man at the driver, who she couldn’t make out.

  The runaway vehicle sped past, it’s back end fishtailing all the while.

  “Kids these days,” she muttered, although she had no indication that the driver had been anywhere in the vicinity of “kid.”

  Ella squinted, trying to make out the make and model and license plate. When it reached the halo of light under a streetlamp, she realized the strange, boxy vehicle wasn’t a car at all, but an old-fashioned snowmobile.

  Dot had just tried to run her over.

  CHAPTER 29

  STILL hugging the binder inside of her jacket, Ella raced down the street after Dot, trying to get an idea of where she was headed while simultaneously not slipping and cracking her head open. Her boots thudded over the snow and ice, and her breath came out in wisps.

  Where was Dot going in such a hurry?

  Ella’s first thought had been that the woman had been searching for Ella, waiting to run her over in her ancient snowmobile. But the breakneck speed at which the vehicle continued to fly gave Ella the impression Dot had another destination in mind.

  In the distance, the snowmobile took a sharp left towards the park, tipped onto a single ski blade, settled onto two again, then ran over a bank. It momentarily floated through the air before finding the ground again. The lone headlight bounced wildly as it careened through the park.

  She knew the woman was off her rocker, but this was a whole new level of crazy. This wasn’t a simple joy ride. Dot seemed like she was on a mission, driving with rage—snow rage. If she didn’t slow down, Ella would be looking at another body.

  The door to Grandma’s Kitchen threw open, and Wink stepped out. She spotted Ella.

  “What on earth is that racket?”

  “Dot. She’s on her mobile of death. I nearly became roadkill.”

  Wink turned in the direction of the park. “Looks like she’s itching to do something.”

  The way Wink worded it triggered a horrible thought. Ella’s stomach plunged to her feet as she gripped the older woman’s sleeve.

  “Oh no. I know where she’s going. Get Flo. Tell her if she’s got any more bear mace to bring it, bring anything non-lethal. Go! Hurry!” Ella began sprinting towards the park.

  “Ella! Where are you going?!”

  “The Tanners’ house!”

  Ella made a flying leap over the section of bank where Dot’s snowmobile had veered off, doing her best impression of a superhero. She could even make out the ski blade marks as she sailed over them, could still see them as she landed face first in them.

  Her nose stung. She rubbed it as she sprang to her feet and spit out a mouthful of snow, gulping down air.

  Ahead, Dot attempted to negotiate the turn from the park to L
ake Drive. She appeared to have it under control then hit either ice or an obstacle under the snow. Both she and the snowmobile crashed into a hedge in someone’s front yard.

  Ella let out a strangled cry and propelled her feet, her lungs burning with daggers from the icy air.

  “Dot!” she gasped, still a few yards from the crash site. “You still alive?”

  The Tanners’ front porch light flipped on, and Ella prayed Lilly wouldn’t open the door.

  She arrived at the hedge just as Dot was tumbling out of the shrubbery. The crazy woman staggered forward like a drunkard. Then, she stretched to her full, short height and straightened her jacket. Her light blonde hair held clumps of snow.

  The snowmobile—which Ella still thought too generous of a word—appeared totaled. Like a cow gone to pasture, it had mercifully been put out of its misery.

  Dot bent over the wrecked vehicle, searching for something. A second later, she brandished her shotgun in the gleaming light from the porch.

  Ella slid to a stop when she spotted the weapon. “Dot! What are you doing?”

  Where was Flo with her arsenal of weaponry? Forget the non-lethal. Ella would settle for the crazy woman’s ghost blaster or even the howitzer she claimed she had but Ella had never seen. A heavy artillery cannon didn’t seem so bad at the moment.

  Dot checked the double barrels of her gun as a tall shadow emerged from the park. Ella’s heart sank when she realized it was neither Wink nor Flo.

  “What’s going on here?” Jonas’s large frame lumbered forward.

  His eyes traveled from the wreckage to the shotgun then to Dot. If what he saw surprised him, he didn’t show it. He spat a wad of tobacco and made like he was going to stroll away.

  “W-what are you doing? Get the sheriff!” Ella yelled at him.

  He rolled his gaze in her direction, shrugged, then wandered off. However, he didn’t retreat in the direction of his farm, but instead in the direction of town which Ella took as an encouraging sign. Whether or not he would actually get Chapman, she couldn’t be sure.

  She turned her attention back to Dot only to find the woman’s cold eyes—and gun—trained on her. Her perfectly straight blonde hair was a tangled mess of brown roots and dried twigs and snow.