Pickled

by Deany Ray

  “What did I tell you girls about messing with my case?” he asked. “This is not a place for amateurs. This could get scary. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “We can’t ride through town and stop for gas without you on our tail?” I asked, indignant, as if this was something that I did daily, ride through the worst part of the city in a cloud of filthy dust. I was too tired and angry to even try to be polite.

  Celeste gave him a hard look. “And where are these amateurs you speak of? I see no amateurs among the fine detectives here that you see fit to insult.”

  He gave her a hard stare. “So. You hang up a sign. And you’re suddenly an expert?”

  She glared back at him. “We’re still waiting on that sign. Could you check on that for us? You people have been very slow. Bert promised us a sign.”

  He leaned in even closer. “You heard what I just said. Stay away from Baxter Duvant’s place.”

  “Oh, does that guy live near here?” Marge asked breezily. “We were just on our way to do…to do a little shopping.”

  He smiled at me in the backseat. “I’ll be watching, ladies. And the pretty one in glasses? I’ll be watching her real close.” He gave me a wink.

  A warm feeling rushed right through me as I watched him brush his soft hair from his eyes, then strengthen his back. I felt so much all at once: exhaustion, anger…and intrigue. What exactly had he meant by that last remark?

  “No need to keep an eye on us,” I said to him, flustered. “You’d be bored to death.” Never mind the fact that just that afternoon he might have seen me climb into a felon’s window. After performing a jazz dance on a fire escape.

  Marge giggled, then she winked at me before she turned to Alex. “So, Detective Spencer, what brings you to this not-so-lovely section of our fine town of Springston?”

  “You know I can’t discuss investigative matters.”

  “Not even with other people who are investigators on the case?” Celeste asked in a hard voice. “That’s so inefficient. When we’re all on the same team.”

  He met her stare for stare. “My work is confidential. And highly sensitive.”

  Well, Mr. Know it All, that’s too bad for you. Because we had information too. Did he know about the boxes?

  “If I get some panda updates, I’ll get right back to you.” He gave me another slow wink. He had the bluest eyes. Was it possible to blush and fume both at the same time?

  He turned and walked toward his car, leaving us staring at his well-formed…uh…posterior.

  After we fueled the car and Marge got her snacks, we drove away. Ten minutes later, we pulled into the office. Thankfully, there were no more detours for milkshakes and no further rendezvous with stuck-on-themselves detectives.

  “Good work, girls,” Celeste said as we climbed out of the car. “Charlie, you were amazing. You were our MVP. Tomorrow I’ll call Gil, see if he can trace the license tag of Baxter’s van. Charlie, you remember Gil. He fixed your tires when they got slashed.”

  “Oh, yeah.” My mind flashed back to our past case. Someone hadn’t liked me looking into a set of clues that we’d discovered. So, they’d sent an ugly message that required a brand new set of tires. Seems I was good at having close calls with angry criminals.

  “Gil has some connections with the DMV,” Celeste explained to us. “If the van belongs to Duvant, that won’t help us much. We’re already on to him. But if it comes back to someone else, then we’ll have ourselves not one but two persons of interest in the case, as we say in the business.”

  Marge smiled. “Great idea. Oh, Charlie, I forgot to ask. How did the apartment hunting go?”

  “Well, let’s just say that the apartment I snuck into is just the kind of place that fits into my budget.”

  “Oh no!” Marge looked like she might cry. “That’s so sad. And do you know what else is so sad? That our little panda is still lost out there and all alone! We need to find that witty bitty panda before he gets hurt.”

  “Let’s meet tomorrow here at nine, and we’ll focus on the panda,” Celeste said. “It’s the panda, not the felon, who will earn us our first check.”

  “But if we can figure out what Baxter’s doing, that would help us too. Then every police chief in the area would want to send us jobs,” I said. “Because you know he’s up to no good. He’s not collecting boxes to help his grandma move. He’s not that kind of guy.”

  I’d forgotten that hours before I’d contemplated quitting as I hid beneath the bed and hoped I wouldn’t die.

  Celeste thought about it. “Yes, you’re absolutely right. Something big is going on. And the more Alex tries to hide it, the more I’d like to know exactly what it is. And the more I’d like to solve that thing before he can do it.”

  “Well, tomorrow we’re Team Panda.” I fished my car keys from my purse. “And we’ll be Team Felon too. But for now I’m out of here. I’m Team Charlie-Needs-a-Shower.”

  I got into my Corolla and, by some miracle, it started with the first turn of the key. I held my hand up in a goodbye as I backed out of the spot.

  Chapter Eight

  I woke up to the Rolling Stones wailing in my ear. I squinted at the clock. Was my mother leading class at six-thirty in the morning? I’d wanted to sleep just a little longer since the day before had been so dreadful.

  The sound seemed to be coming from outside on the lawn. Sunrise exercises? I grabbed my glasses from the nightstand and eased over to the window, almost afraid to look.

  Blooming butter cookies! Yep, there were my mother’s students, doing strange moves on the lawn right outside my room. Who needed an alarm? And what exactly were these ancient students doing in their brightly colored clothing? I had no idea. They were jumping and waving their limbs as if the yard had been invaded by mosquitos they were trying to shake off. I had a flashback to the oldsters I’d watched dancing in Baxter’s complex just the day before. Why was this a theme for me? Could I pick another theme?

  Well, the sight out on my lawn had me wide awake, which I didn’t want to be. Hiding on a filthy floor with dust bunnies and old roaches should earn a girl a pass to sleep as long as she would like. Plus, I’d spent much of the day before scared that I might die. That should be worth some extra points toward a morning sleeping in.

  No chance of sleeping now, I thought as I peered out at the oldsters and hoped they wouldn’t fall. Wasn’t it supposed to be the mom who yelled at others in the house to turn the music down? Instead, mine was shaking her tushy as she pranced across the lawn in purple tights and an oversized green shirt. Where had she even bought that shirt? It was so green it seemed to glow.

  An apartment with arrows flying through the window was looking better right about now.

  I pulled on a t-shirt and some shorts and pulled my hair into a ponytail just as a bolt of lightning flashed outside my window. Absolutely super. Now, the ancient rock and rollers would be pouring into the den just as I made my way downstairs. And I hated to talk to anyone before that first sweet sip of coffee. Unfortunately, there was no back door to the kitchen. If I wanted to get some caffeine in my system, I’d have to go through the den.

  Or maybe not if I was quick. I tried to dash through the downstairs as quickly as I could to the safety of the kitchen, but I wasn’t fast enough. As if on cue, they all came filing in just as I got down the steps.

  My mother looked surprised to see me. “Oh, sweetheart, I know that you worked late. I thought you might sleep in.”

  Was she even kidding? How could anybody sleep in when a rock concert was going on full blast beneath their window?

  I gave her a sleepy smile. The students were listening eagerly, so I had to be polite in case their hearing aids were turned up.

  “I was hoping to sleep late,” I said, “but, well, here I am!”

  A tiny woman grabbed my arm. A huge smile spread across her face. “Well, if it isn’t Charlie Cooper! Why don’t you come dance with us? We have the most delightful class.”

  Get
me out of here.

  “Oh. Well. Thank you very much for the invitation. But I need to get my breakfast and head on in to work.” Or sneak back up to bed, if by some miracle, the class with its loud music came to an early stop.

  “Well, it’s so nice to see you. It’s been a long, long time,” she said.

  Did I know this woman?

  She continued to hold tightly to my arm as I tried to say my polite goodbyes.

  “You would enjoy the dancing,” she insisted. “Although, I have to say, you were not the most coordinated of my students way back in the day. You were very slow at dodge ball. And you always came in last when your group was running laps.” She smiled. “But you were just the cutest little thing that I ever saw.”

  I looked more closely at her wrinkled face.

  “Mrs. Beckham?” I asked. Was this my PE teacher from Waller Elementary? As if my grownup life didn’t embarrass me enough, I had to be reminded of how bad I’d been at sports in the second grade. The joys of coming back to live in your old hometown.

  “You’re looking very well,” I said. “But I know I need to let you all get back to your class. If you’ll just excuse me…”

  But she still wouldn’t let me go. “Do you and your little friends still like to play that game?” She peered up at me. “Do you still pretend that you’re rainbow-colored fishies swimming through the sea?”

  Had she lost her mind? Did she not see how old I’d gotten? Did I really look like someone who spent my spare time acting like I was a fish? I pasted a smile upon my face and gently tried to pull my arm away. “No. I haven’t done that in a while. But we surely had some fun at Waller Elementary.”

  I noticed then that everyone was staring and listening to our odd exchange. I smiled at them and waved as I at last made my way toward the kitchen.

  Mrs. Beckham followed close behind me. Please. I needed coffee. She grabbed my arm again. “You were a smart one, I remember. Such an imagination.” This woman liked to talk. “You all used to move across the playground, swimming just like this and making fishy faces.” Of course, she had to demonstrate, fishy face and all. The look was not becoming.

  Someone help me, please. Where had my mother gotten to? Wasn’t she supposed to be leading these people in some kind of exercise?

  Just then, she swooped in to the rescue, a savior in a flowing lime green shirt.

  “This gives me an idea!” she cried happily.

  My chest seized up a little. It was usually not a good thing when my mother was struck with an idea.

  “When I put on the next song, let’s all move like fish!” she cried out to the room.

  The oldsters whooped and hollered. I guessed that it didn’t take a lot to excite this little group of dancers. They likely spent their days playing cards or watching game shows. If you were retired and old in Springston, “swimming” across a den floor might be the highlight of your week.

  Brad was up and making sandwiches when I made my way at last into the kitchen. I still wasn’t quite used to seeing him as a normal human being who got up and went to work. He must want that paycheck badly. And the prize money.

  A paycheck. Hmm. I hoped I’d get one soon. I poured myself some coffee from the pot that my mom or Brad had made. I closed my eyes and took a sip, savoring the first warm taste. Then I turned to Brad. “What time does your shift start?”

  He slapped the top piece of bread onto his sandwich, then got out a baggie as if I hadn’t spoken. Rude. Then he seemed to see me for the first time, and pulled an earplug out. “Did you say something?”

  Earplugs! That was genius! Could it be that, after all, my brother wasn’t the most moronic of the Cooper siblings? Here he was, making his sandwiches in peace while I had the beginnings of a headache brought on by the music, which was starting up again. If I had thought of earplugs, I’d still be sound asleep. Was the music even louder now? Why had my mother turned it up?

  I glanced out the window while I sipped and studied my mother’s garden and our big backyard. The elderly fishes were back outside by then, swimming around an oak tree. Apparently, the threat of rain had passed.

  “I asked what time you had to be at work,” I said to my brother.

  He sat down with a cup of coffee. “My shift begins at nine, but I’d like to get there early to get a jump on things.”

  I stared. “Who are you exactly? You kind of look like my brother, but you can’t be him.”

  He wasn’t smart enough to get the joke. “Charlie, you’re so goofy. Who else would it be but me?”

  I sat down across from him. “You’re not acting like my brother. He would never get up early to go do extra work. Can I see your ID?”

  He still didn’t get my humor. “You’re not making any sense.”

  “Never mind.” No use joking with this guy.

  Thankfully, the music got a bit more mellow, and someone turned the volume down. I slowly sipped my coffee and willed the shooting pains in my head to please just go away.

  Just as things were calming down, I heard someone rushing into the kitchen.

  “Well, look at you two youngsters,” called out a gravelly voice. “Barbara has raised some mighty fine young people. That’s what I always say.”

  I turned to find Jean Kolcek, one of my mother’s longtime students. She had retired about fifteen years before from the library downtown. Perhaps she could also share a story to humiliate me. Like the time I spilled chocolate pudding on the library’s only copy of Amy’s Yellow Dog.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Kolcek.” I smiled. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “I just need a glass of water. Honey, you just keep your seat. I know where Barbara keeps the glasses. She likes us to stay hydrated. Your mother thinks of everything.”

  She bustled over to the cabinets with a big smile on her face. Must be that famous rush of energy you’re supposed to get from exercise. Because of something called endorphins? Was that what I’d heard? Which led me to the question: what was an endorphin? I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t been any better with the science books than on the dodge ball field. Still, maybe I should try this exercising thing. But with people my own age, and after nine a.m.

  Mrs. Kolcek moved over to the sink to fill her glass, then let out a yelp. The glass went crashing to the floor. It looked like she was choking. Then she fell – or maybe fainted. I just knew that it looked bad.

  I leapt up and ran to check on her.

  Brad had his earplugs back in, oblivious to anything besides the motorcycle magazine in front of him on the table. He didn’t seem to be aware that this was anything but a normal day in the Cooper kitchen.

  “Mrs. Kolcek!” I shouted. “Can you hear me, Mrs. Kolcek?”

  Still shaken, she opened her eyes and glanced up at the window. I turned around, following her gaze. It didn’t take me long to see what had startled her. In the kitchen window were two paws, a wet nose, and a pair of eyes staring out from a familiar furry face. Lou! It was really Lou, outside my kitchen window.

  Very gently, I helped the retired librarian to her feet. She still looked very pale. Not that a little panda is a terrifying site. But it’s not what you expect to find when you look out upon a lawn in a suburban neighborhood.

  “Jean! Are you okay?” My mother rushed into the room, alerted by the noise. She put an arm around Mrs. Kolcek, who was still too startled to explain. My mother looked at me, concerned. “Do you know what happened, Charlie?”

  I nodded toward the window, where Lou was watching us with interest. To him, we were a show, full of crashing glass and yelping and all manner of hysterics.

  My mom let out a scream when she saw the bear. Brad continued to sip his coffee. He hadn’t heard a thing. Those must be some darn good earplugs. I wanted some of those.

  “What in the world?” My mother stepped back from the window. “I have been telling you and telling you – the energy in this house is seriously out of whack. To the point of being cataclysmic.”

  I had to think – an
d fast. I still hadn’t had a chance to do any research on how to catch a bear. And here it was, a second chance. This was lucky, oh so lucky. I didn’t have to hunt Lou down. Lou had come to me! I had to grab myself a panda. But…the scene in the park flashed through my mind. I could almost smell the funk again. I didn’t want a repeat of that smelly confrontation. I glanced toward my brother. I had an idea.

  I pulled the earplugs from his ears, causing him to jump. “Hey, Brad.” I tried to keep my voice bright and calm, as if I were suggesting something fun. “You won’t believe what’s happened. It’s the coolest thing. You know the pandas from the zoo? The ones that we used to love to watch?”

  He nodded, somewhat interested. He waited for me to go on.

  “Well, one of them is outside, looking in the window. Would you please go out and get him?” How crazy must that have sound?

  He pondered the question a bit, as if it were the kind of simple favor that sisters always asked. Can you give me a ride? Can you hand me that book on the top shelf over in the corner? Can you go out and catch that bear?

  He seemed to consider the idea, then he came to a decision. “I’d love to help you out, but I need to get to work.”

  Damn. I’d been foiled by his newfound interest in productivity. Who’d have ever thought? Not that he’d come to see the value of hard work. I didn’t think that for a minute. He just loved the money it would put into his pocket. I knew my brother well.

  Hey! That gave me an idea. “If you’ll do it for me, I’ll give you ten dollars.”

  His eyes lit up at the thought. “If you’ll give me twenty, then you’ve got a deal.”

  Of course, it would be nice to have a brother who would leap up, happy to be of help. “Sure,” said the perfect brother in my imagination. “You just wait right here. I don’t want you to get hurt. Pour yourself more coffee. Can I bring you the cream?”

  But twenty bucks to avoid another burst of foul air in my face? Best bargain of my life. That little panda had farted like a massive grizzly bear. Lou was a master farter. But that was my brother’s problem now. Perhaps I was the smart one.