Glazed

by Deany Ray

  It wasn’t the first time a dead person (or a body part) had turned up during what we’d thought would be a quiet, boring day scoping out a scene.

  Marge stepped back. “Well, I hate to say it, but I guess we have to look.”

  “I was afraid you were gonna say that,” I sighed.

  Celeste looked around. “We were hoping for a clue,” she said, “and I guess that’s what we’ve got.” She frowned at the bulging trash bag. “Let’s see who we have in there. Marge, give me your purse.”

  “Na-ah,” Marge said and clutched her bag tightly around her front. “I won’t have my purse near that.”

  Celeste rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about your precious purse. I’m gonna be careful.”

  Marge looked at Celeste, then at the trash bag, then back at Celeste. She sighed and handed over her big floral bag, and Celeste removed a small knife and a pair of disposable gloves, which she stretched carefully over her hands. Scrunching up her nose, she made a neat cut in the bag.

  Marge and I both jumped back, disgusted, as if we thought the person might jump out and say hello.

  “Is he dead?” Marge whispered.

  “I would say odds are slim that he’s still alive,” I said.

  “Wait a minute,” Marge said. “It could be a ‘her.’”

  Marge and I both got closer and peeked inside.

  Celeste nodded slowly. “This one is a goner. And it’s a ‘he.’”

  “Interesting,” Marge observed.

  “What exactly?” I asked her.

  “Have you noticed that in every one of our cases, all the dead people we found were men?” Marge asked.

  I thought about it for a second. She was right.

  “Maybe that’s the real reason why women live longer. The men just get murdered,” I said.

  “Something to think about,” Marge said trailing away. “Something to think about…”

  “Would you two stop yip-yapping? We’ve got serious trouble here.” Celeste’s voice snapped us back to reality.

  She didn’t need to, though. The smell could have done that also. It was even worse now that the bag was open, and I almost gagged. A gag reflex was not good in my line of work. I should have a stronger stomach.

  I decided to move in even closer. It was my job to look. The man was covered in big patches of dried blood. I guessed that he was somewhere between forty and fifty years old, and he was dressed in a beige shirt and some jeans. A sizeable belly spilled over his belt. His most notable feature right then was the hole in the middle of his forehead.

  Marge backed away and breathed in hard. “Absolutely awful,” she squeaked. “I bet this poor man had a family.”

  “Charlie, grab my cell and give Bert a call,” Celeste said in a clipped, all-business voice. “I need to look for an ID. That way we’ll have the info before the cops can tell us to skedaddle.”

  “But it’s our case; we’re official,” I told her, confused.

  “I think Celeste is right,” Marge said. “Now that there’s a body, they might start up with the same old crap. This has just become a big case and you girls might get hurt. Time to step away and let the big boys do their job. Yada, yada, yada.”

  I sighed. That stuff was getting old.

  I found Bert in Celeste’s contact list, then I placed the call.

  He answered right away. “Celeste. What’s up?”

  “Charlie Cooper here. We were checking out the bank where Lucas and his friend were at, and we found a body. In the dumpster in the alley.”

  Silence.

  His voice took on a new energy. “I’ll send a unit right away. Thanks.”

  Well, at least he said ‘thanks.’

  Celeste, in the meantime, had her hand in the guy’s pocket. She pulled out a candy wrapper and a wadded tissue before she found the wallet. Working quickly, she looked inside until she found his driver’s license. “Bingo.”

  “What’s it say?” Marge asked.

  “The name is Peter Clayton. Lives at 23 South Clever Street in Springston.”

  Marge, who had pulled her notebook from her purse, scribbled down the information. Celeste put back the license, then put the wallet back into the dead guy’s pocket.

  “Now that we’re done here, can we wait somewhere else?” Marge asked. “The smell is killing me.”

  ***

  As we leaned against Marge’s car and waited for the cops, Celeste lit a cigarette. She had a grim look on her face.

  “This worries me for Lucas,” she said as she blew out a puff of smoke. “I’m not sure what this means. Lucas and his buddy were gonna rob this bank, and now a guy turns up on the property with a bullet through his head. Really scary stuff. The kid’s in big-time danger.”

  Cases always had big stakes, but this time things felt different; this time it was personal.

  We didn’t have to wait for long until sirens pierced the air and two cop cars were in the parking lot, their lights flashing streaks of blue across the pavement and parked cars.

  We walked up to them, and Alex was the first one to leap out of his car. He nodded courteously toward us. Like always, he did not look happy to see us in the middle of a-crime-had-just-occurred situation.

  A young female officer joined him and nodded at the three of us. “I assume one of you is Celeste.”

  “That’s me,” Celeste said.

  “Can you take us to the body?” the officer asked. “Then we’d like to get a statement.”

  She headed off with Celeste and Alex into the alley. A long gray car appeared and two guys jumped out with a stretcher. Without a word, they headed off toward the dumpster, right behind the others. Since apparently we were missing the party, Marge and I also walked in the direction of the alley.

  Not wanting to get too close again, I stood upwind and watched. Alex helped direct the removal of the body after it had been photographed from many angles and measurements had been made.

  Another group of cops had appeared on the scene. Some were searching the grounds around the bank while others combed through the trash. Remember that, I told myself, when you think your job’s the worst.

  I moved a little closer and tried to take in the details with an investigative eye, watching the cops’ reactions as they examined items. I wanted to take note of anything they found that might seem to be important. I held my breath and wandered into the middle of the action, but nothing in the mush of old foods and wet papers stood out as anything but gross.

  We wandered back to the parking lot to watch the workers load the body in the car. People had stepped out of the bank and out of The Glazed Doughnut Box – the doughnut shop next to the bank – to whisper and wonder about the details of what was going on. The officers were beginning to question the employees.

  Celeste lit another cigarette. “Keep your eyes and ears wide open,” she said quietly. “Let’s try to see who they’re talking to and hear what they might be saying.”

  Gradually the cops left. Alex was the last one there. As he headed toward us, Marge linked arms with Celeste. “Celeste and I are going potty,” she whispered to me. “That will give us a chance to eavesdrop just a little and see what they’re saying in the bank.” She gave me a wink and a cheery wave. “We’ll give you two some alone time.”

  Murderous macaroons! We’d just found a body and she wanted me to flirt? Although, I guessed it did make sense for the two of them to try to find out what they were saying in the bank. In a town like Springston, sometimes the people who knew the most were in line at the local bank or the supermarket, pumping gas beside you at the station or sitting next to you at a restaurant. But I also knew my friends too well. They just needed an excuse to give Alex and me some alone time. Great.

  I gulped as I saw Alex walk up slowly to me. He was rubbing the back of his head and wincing as if the case had already given him a headache.

  He gave me an awkward smile. “Charlie, it’s been a while.”

  “Indeed, it has,” I said.

&nb
sp; It seemed that neither one of us quite knew how to act. Both of us had decided that it couldn’t work, the two of us as a couple. Or even trying to become a couple. Too many clashes on the job. And yet there was that kiss. It made it hard to go back to our old ways and silly jokes. We were no longer just two buddies who liked to kid around; we’d almost been something more.

  “You okay these days?” he asked.

  He brushed his soft hair from his eyes and I caught a whiff of his cologne, a woodsy, spicy mix.

  I shrugged. “Better than that guy in the bag, I guess.”

  Stupid, stupid joke.

  We stood in silence while we each searched for something else to say.

  “Your mom and dad okay?” He brushed at something on his sleeve…

  “My mother’s on a health-food kick. I might text you if I get desperate. Emergency. Send cookies.”

  He tilted his head and seemed to study me. Then he smiled a little. “Yeah. I’ve never been one to get excited about a green bean or a salad.” He looked at the ground. “Listen, Charlie. I know you don’t like to hear it, but this case just took a bad turn. We’re dealing here with someone who put a bullet through a dude’s head. You three should be…”

  “Careful.” I finished the sentence for him. “I’ve heard that line before.” I smiled to show that I was teasing.

  “You know I worry, Charlie.”

  “Yeah. I know you do.” It used to be irritating; now it was just…nice. It gave me a warm feeling, that concerned look in his eyes.

  He studied me some more. “It worries me to see you tangled up in a mess like this. Again.”

  “It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose,” I said.

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Fine. Some things are on purpose. But not this. We weren’t looking to find a dead body in an alley.”

  “You’re right,” he sighed. “Still, wherever there’s a body, there’s also Charlie Cooper. Excitement seems to follow you.”

  I would have gladly contradicted him, if he weren’t right about it. Since I returned to Springston, I kinda became a magnet for crime and mayhem.

  “I’m sorry I’m making your job harder than it already is. But you gotta admit, CMC Services kicked butt more than a couple of times,” I proudly stated.

  Alex stared at me. I saw the corners of his eyes slightly shift upward.

  “Guess you’re right. You did solve some cases, in your own special way,” he said.

  “Wow. Did it hurt to admit that?” I teased.

  He smiled. “You have no idea. I think I’m also gonna need medical assistance.”

  I looked toward the alley, where not too long ago, a body was unceremoniously stuffed in a trash bag and left to rot. The seriousness of the whole thing washed over me in that moment. I pictured Lucas at our office, so young and so very scared. Now things looked even worse for him.

  “Do you think it’s all connected?” I asked Alex. “The boys they arrested at the bank, the shooting at the school, and now this dead guy in the trash?”

  “That’s what I intend to find out.” He paused. “And I imagine you will too?” He shook his head. “I don’t really have to ask, do I?”

  “Bert put us on the case,” I said.

  “But now things have gotten dangerous…”

  “Which we can handle, Alex. When your job is solving crimes, you don’t expect the people that you chase down to be do-gooders and grandmas baking cookies.”

  “Just don’t take too many chances.”

  “I’ll be careful, Alex. You be careful too.”

  He smiled and held up a hand to give me a little wave. “See you on the trail for clues. I guess now I’ve got two jobs. Solving crimes in Springston and saving Charlie Cooper’s butt when she gets in trouble.”

  In my mind I formed an argument about why that wouldn’t happen, but I knew it always did. That’s just who I was – clumsy and trouble-prone – but, with the help of my best friends, I always solved the case before the cops knew which end was up.

  ***

  We rushed to Clarkston Heights, where Celeste once again grilled Lucas as we all stood right inside the door. His face turned white when we told him what we’d found among the trash.

  “That’s what those guys were up to,” he said in a hushed voice. “I can’t believe it was a body, man. They had a freaking body.”

  We stared at him in silence.

  “I thought you told us everything, Lucas,” Celeste said.

  But his thoughts seemed to be far away.

  “Lucas!” Celeste snapped him right back to reality.

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Celeste. I didn’t think it was important! It was just these two dudes – two dudes and a trash bag that did look super heavy, but hey, it’s a doughnut shop. They just have a lot of trash.”

  Marge wrote something down. “So when did you see these guys? Were these guys at the dumpster when you got arrested yesterday?”

  “Yeah,” he crossed the room to sink down into the couch. I could tell he was still in shock. “When we were at the ATM, two guys were in the alley.”

  “Did they come from the doughnut place?” I asked.

  “There was a back door at the shop. It led out to the alley. I assumed they came from there, but we didn’t really see. The bag they carried was really huge, and it took them both to lift it, which we thought was a little strange.”

  I sat beside him on the couch. “These guys, what did they look like?”

  Lucas closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the couch.

  “One of them was blond; his hair was almost white and came to his shoulders. The other had brown hair, slicked-back on his head. That guy had a mustache.”

  Marge scribbled furiously. “Tall, short, fat?”

  “I guess just kind of normal. We only saw them for a second.”

  Celeste looked shaken. “You know what this means, right?” she asked as she turned to Lucas. “All the rules I gave you just got more important. You do not leave this apartment. Is there anything you need?”

  “For tonight, I’m good,” Lucas said. “But later on, I guess, some more chips and soda would be good.” He paused. “And frozen pizza maybe? Can I order out?”

  Celeste thought about it. “I guess that would be okay, but don’t do it very often. I don’t want every delivery person in the world knocking on your door. The more you can keep to yourself, the better it will be.” She looked around at the empty place. “I’ll get you a TV.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Celeste. That would be extra cool.”

  We all sat there in silence for a couple of beats.

  “Aunt Celeste?” Lucas asked, looking at the floor.

  “Yes?”

  “Were me and Perry witnesses to something bad? Like murder?”

  There was another round of silence. Poor kid, his whole world just came crashing down.

  “Look,” Celeste said and took his hand, “we don’t know what happened in that alley. We do know that you and Perry are in danger. And we’ll do everything in our power to figure this out and to keep you safe.” She turned to us. “Right, girls?”

  “You bet we will.”

  “You can count on us.” Marge and I said at the same time.

  Celeste turned toward the door. “Let’s go. We’ve got a case to solve. Lucas, you’ll be fine,” she said. “But do everything I’ve asked. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I understand.” He still looked a little white.

  As soon as she’d shut the door, Celeste dropped the mask of calm, and worry filled her eyes.

  In the car, she turned to us with a grim expression. “It looks like those two boys were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Those guys who put a hole in our friend from the dumpster? They’re after Lucas now. They think he could ID them as dumping the body at the scene – or at least a trash bag that was shaped just like a body. For now, they’ve put a stop to Perry squealing on them. My nephew’s in real danger.”

  “I
don’t know,” Marge said. “What did they really see? It doesn’t sound like they saw too much.”

  “He saw enough,” Celeste said.

  From the back seat I reached up to touch her shoulder. “We’ll keep him safe,” I said.

  Celeste sighed. “Those guys will be looking hard for him. When you commit a murder, you cover all your bases.”

  “What seems weird to me,” Marge said, “is that they didn’t move the body if they thought someone had seen them with the bag.”

  “They might not have wanted to go back anywhere near that…dead guy,” I said. “And moving a dead body can’t be exactly easy. They’d get blood in their car, and that would be evidence. So much could go wrong.” I leaned back in my seat. “It sounds like there’s a good chance they came out of the doughnut shop.”

  “So many questions,” Marge said. “How did they know where the boys went to school and what time they went to breakfast?”

  “They might have been watching them since that day at the bank,” Celeste said, pulling out her zillionth cigarette of the day. “They might still be watching.” She fished her cell out of her purse. “Lucas!” she said after a moment. “Do not order takeout. Do not open the door to anyone but us.” She paused. “We’ll come by tomorrow with more food.” She paused once more to listen. “Yes, we’ll bring lots of peanut butter. Do not open the door.” She looked frazzled when she hung up.

  “Let’s call it a day for now,” Celeste said as she pulled on her seat belt. “I’ll give Bert a call, let him know what Lucas saw and where we’ve put him. He can have a cop drive by, make sure all looks quiet.”

  “Good idea,” Marge said.

  “Let’s drive tomorrow by the dead guy’s house,” I said. “Maybe that will tell us…something.”

  “Yes, tomorrow’s a full day,” Celeste said. “You girls get some rest.”

  Marge drove me to the office to pick up my car, and I headed home through traffic. I realized I was starving. There’d been no time for lunch, and I’d barely eaten breakfast. All that talk of doughnuts had me craving something sweet.

  Ten minutes later I was home.

  Walking into the kitchen used to be the best thing about living back at home. Sometimes the smells would greet me before I could even turn the knob: spaghetti sauce with herbs and garlic and other flavors that had been mingling on the stove for hours, a stew simmering in the Crock-Pot, always something sweet for the grand finale. It all formed the background for great conversation fueled by exquisite wines. My parents never hesitated to open another bottle.