by K. J. Emrick
“Yes, that’s me.” Jerry’s eyes were on the road, but his mind was obviously working through what he’d just heard. He tapped his finger on the steering wheel as he thought.
“Hey, Chief?” Patrick’s voice said after a moment of silence. “You still there? Did I lose you?”
“No, I’m here… listen, the extra patrols at night is a good idea but there’s no guarantee they’ll spot whoever’s doing this by just randomly driving around. Before we go to that step I want you to try something for me. Go back to the victims and ask if they noticed anything missing from their refrigerator. Leftovers, frozen pizza, whatever.”
“Um. Okay, I will. That’s kind of a weird question to ask though.”
“Sometimes that’s how you solve cases.”
“All right, but don’t you think the homeowners would have mentioned missing food when they called to report the break ins?”
“No, not necessarily. When people know someone has broken into their house they check on their jewelry, and their television, and wherever they have the extra money stashed. They don’t check on the pickle jar. Now that they’ve had a little while to calm down they might have noticed their Tupperware with last night’s spaghetti is gone, but they still might not think it’s important. So there’s less bologna than they remember, so what? They’ll just figure their teenager ate it.”
“Chief, I’m not following you,” Patrick said. “You think that someone is breaking into people’s houses and helping themselves to a sandwich, but not touching the jewelry or the cash, and then just leaving in the morning?”
“That’s what I’m thinking. After you reinterview the victims I want you to have the guys go door to door around whatever house was broken into first. We’re looking for someone who was recently kicked out. A cheating husband, abusive boyfriend, lazy twenty-year-old son who was mooching off them in the basement, whatever. Get the name and description of whoever they kicked out. That’s going to be your main suspect.”
“Oh, I get it now.” They could almost hear the smile in Patrick’s voice now that he’d caught on. “So whoever this is gets kicked out of the house with no place to stay, and so they’re squatting in other people’s homes. They aren’t stealing, they just need a place to stay.”
“And something to eat.”
“And a shower, maybe. I’ll also ask if anything was out of place in the bathroom. Wet towels or empty shampoo bottles or whatever.”
“There you go.” Jerry nodded as he took the turn off the main road into the parking lot of the museum. “I knew I left you in charge for a reason.”
“You mean it wasn’t just for my good looks?”
“Ha! Not with that handlebar mustache of yours. You wax it yet this week?”
“Hey now,” Patrick joked, “don’t be jealous. You could look as good as I do if your wife would let you off your leash.”
Cookie cleared her throat. “Hello, Patrick. Nice to hear from you.”
There was a long moment of embarrassed silence before Patrick said, “Oh, uh, hi Cookie. I mean, hi Mrs. Stansted. It’s nice to hear you, too. On the speakerphone. Which I didn’t realize I was on. Having a good time on your trip?”
“Why yes, I certainly am. Although, the only one on a leash here is Cream. Goodbye, Patrick.”
She hung up before he could say anything else.
“He’s a good guy,” Jerry said in Patrick’s defense. “He just doesn’t always think before he speaks.”
“Oh, I don’t mind a little joking among friends,” Cookie assured him. “I’m sure he can take as good as he gives.”
“Yeah. We’ll have to have him over for dinner sometime.”
“I’d like that. Let me know what his favorite foods are.” She was already crafting a menu for when they got back from their trip. “I’m just impressed that you solved a case when you aren’t even in town.”
“Maybe.” He was trying to be humble, but they both knew she was right. There was a reason why Mayor Fieldberg had given him the chief’s position. “We’ll just have to wait and see. If everything works out Patrick will call back tomorrow saying they have someone in custody for felony leftover snatching. Well. We’re here. Ready to see history come to life?”
The motorhome came to a smooth stop at the far side of the museum parking lot. Cream got up on all fours, barking for attention, sensing that his people were about to get out and explore. He was eager to join in the fun.
Cookie felt bad about having to disappoint him. “Sorry, my little friend. They don’t allow pets into the museum. Only people.”
He huffed and folded his chin down on top of his front paws. Stupid rules didn’t set well with dogs.
Jerry got out of the captain’s chair and held out his hand to help Cookie up. “Well, at least we can have some fun together. Sorry, pooch. We’ll make sure to get you a hamburger after dinner tonight.”
“Half a hamburger,” Cookie reminded him. “We’re both watching our weight.”
“You let me watch that body of yours,” he teased, patting her gently on her backside. “That’s what a husband is for.”
Cookie giggled. He made her feel so young. If she was lucky, then they would have the rest of their lives together to feel just like this.
She did take Cream out for a little romp, however, before they went in. She didn’t want him cooped up all day.
The museum wasn’t very busy. It was the middle of the week, and Cookie supposed it could have something to do with that, but at the same time she felt more certain that people were simply losing interest in the things of the past. Even their own past. That was a shame, she thought, because the past had so much to teach the present. Some of her best recipes had been handed down for three or four generations, sometimes more. Even the parts of her past that she’d like to forget—like that first husband who came before Jerry—still helped shape her present. Life lessons came from the bad as well as the good.
Once she was inside, Cookie never wanted to leave. There were so many interesting things to see! The replica of the Edmund Fitzgerald filled one entire room, with interactive electronic displays that told all about the cause of the wreck, and the names of the sailors and their families, and how pieces of the real ship could be found in the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum.
There were Civil War uniforms, and muskets, and a cannon used at the battle of Gettysburg. There were machines from the turn of the century made of wood and steel ranging from spinning wheels to a working steam engine. One section was dedicated to devices that had been dreamt up and patented but never built, including a set of chicken glasses patented in 1903 by Andrew Jackson, Jr, and a coffin with an emergency crank inside in case someone got buried alive. That one was patented in 1882 and somehow it made Cookie feel better knowing that no one had ever had a reason to build one.
A smaller room off to the side held sports memorabilia from the early 1920s and 1930s, like old wooden bats and oddly shaped gloves and pictures of the first professional teams in both baseball and football. There was even a team jersey from the Kenosha Maroons, circa 1932. That was where Jerry wanted to spend most of his time. Cookie smiled and indulged him. After all, this trip was for him as much as it was for her.
Her cellphone was full of pictures, and she wasn’t done yet.
Coming around a corner, Cookie was surprised to see Humphrey Middlestead hobbling along on that heavy cane of his, looking at photographs that had been enlarged and hung on the wall of one room, depicting the era of westward expansion for the United States. It was a balanced exposition, showing the joy of some settlers and the despair others felt as dust storms ruined their crops, and several more depicting the tragedy of Native tribes pushed off their lands in long marches. Cookie and Jerry had already been through there.
She quickly turned them aside, heading them to the furthest part of the museum. “Hurry,” she told Jerry. “If we’re lucky, then he didn’t see us.”
“We shouldn’t be rude,” Jerry whispered back.
/> “This morning,” she informed him, “he told me he wished we would all just die and leave him alone.”
“Oh. Well in that case, I think it’s okay to be as rude as we want.”
She smiled up at him, glad that he could read her mind. They didn’t see Humphrey the rest of the time they were there, so he must not have stayed long.
It was over an hour later when Penny and Franky found them. Cookie didn’t even realize they had been there that long. She’d lost all track of time. Her friends had changed from their jogging outfits into casual wear for the day. Jeans for both of them, a long-sleeved polo shirt for him and a blousy button-up top for her. They either looked ready for a night at the clubs, or a round of golf
“Hey,” Cookie said, pleased to see their friends had joined them. “I thought you might not be coming.”
“I’m glad we did,” Penny said, a big grin on her face. “The Edmund Fitzgerald display was everything I thought it would be. How tragic that all of those people lost their lives.”
“Oh, yes,” Cookie agreed. “I remember when it happened, the whole nation was in shock. Did you see the rest of what’s here?”
“No,” Franky said, his voice flat. “We got here a half hour ago, but we’ve been staring at that boat since we arrived.”
Penny seemed embarrassed at the way he said it, but Cookie reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. “I have a few different interests than my husband myself. If we were exactly the same it just wouldn’t be any fun, would it?”
That seemed to ease the tension between everyone a little, and they moved on to other exhibits until it got to be nearly five o’clock. Their dinner reservations were for seven. Cookie made sure to go and check on Cream several times. He was fine. He was just still annoyed at them for being left behind. She reminded him that they had promised to make it up to him at dinner but for now, sometimes people had to have people fun.
She checked her watch as she stepped out of the RV this last time, just as Jerry and Penny and Franky were leaving the museum. “Sorry, Cookie,” Jerry said to her. “Did you want to go back in?”
“No, I’m fine. It was a wonderful diversion, but we should get back on the road, I think. Especially if we’re going to make dinner. Penny, Franky, did either of you see Stacia and Ernesto before you came here? I was kind of hoping they were going to join us.”
Penny bit her lower lip and shook her head.
“They were still at the RV park,” Franky said with a shrug. “When we saw them, they were walking their dog again. That’s why we never got one ourselves, you know. They take up so much of your time, you know? Oh, no offense Cookie. We know how much you love yours.”
“He’s part of our family,” Cookie explained. “It’s never time wasted when it’s time spent on your family.”
“I agree,” Penny said, making sure not to look at her husband when she did. She apparently didn’t share her husband’s opinion about dogs any more than she truly shared his opinion about healthy eating habits.
Franky’s expression turned sour, even as his wife smiled at the sentiment. He’d picked up on the same thing Cookie had, and she was struck again by how different these two were from each other. Like night and day. If opposites attract, then these two must attract each other like magnets.
From the road, they heard a deep blast from an RV’s horn, then another, then another, as Stacia and Ernesto’s motorhome went flying by the museum parking lot.
“Oh look,” Penny said, waving, “there they go now. They must be planning on meeting us at the next stop.”
A woman’s arm waved out the passenger window of the RV. Cookie couldn’t see anything more than that, and she wished that Ernesto would stop so she could confirm the dinner plans with everyone, but she supposed no news was good news. If the plans had changed Stacia would have certainly texted her. They had all exchanged cellphone numbers soon after meeting for the first time.
At least they had slowed down to wave. So much so that the only other traffic on the road behind them, a few cars including a little purple hatchback, had to slam on their brakes to keep a safe distance between them. Then they were driving away down the road and out of sight.
“Well,” she said, “I suppose we should be going too. Miles to go, and all that.”
“Wow,” Franky laughed drily. “First, historic boats. Now poetry? This trip is certainly shaping up to be so much more than I bargained for.”
He turned and walked away. Cookie thought at first that he was making a joke, but he wasn’t. He was honestly annoyed that his wife had made them stop at a museum and delay their trip. In his own way, he might just be grumpier than that old coot Humphrey Middlestead.
“I’m, um, sorry for my husband,” Penny was saying, twisting her hands around themselves. “Sometimes he gets cranky after a long drive. He’ll be better tonight at dinner. I promise.”
She smiled uncertainly over her shoulder as she turned to follow her husband.
Cookie shook her head, watching them enter their motorhome. Soon after, the engine started, and they were driving away.
“I truly don’t understand those two,” Cookie said, not realizing she was speaking out loud until Jerry put his arm around her shoulders.
“Don’t worry about it, Cookie.” Leaning down, he kissed the top of her head. “Not every relationship is like ours. Sometimes you just find the right person, and it just works.”
“Like us,” she agreed, smiling at the warmth of his body against hers. “Come on. Let’s get back on the road. There’s supposed to be a great dog park just up the road in town. I heard one of the museum employees talking about it. I doubt our friends will be stopping there, considering Franky’s low opinion of dogs. We’ll have some time just to ourselves. You and me and Cream. He needs a little time to run around.”
He kissed her hair again. “Sounds good to me. You know, some people just aren’t dog people. You can’t change them.”
“Blasphemy,” she chuckled, walking with him back to their motorhome. “Pure, unadulterated blasphemy.”
“Oh but it’s the truth,” he said, making his eyes comically wide. “Just like our good friend Abraham Selk at our last stop. So not a dog person.”
“Shush now. If every man in the world were like Selk we wouldn’t have any dogs left.”
“Well, it’s the world we live in. I’ve even heard that some people prefer… cats!”
“Oh, stop it!” She was laughing so hard she couldn’t keep a straight face. “You’re a cruel, cruel man!”
He opened the door for her with a gallant bow. “After you, my lady.”
“Why thank you, sir.”
THE DOG PARK was a fun time. Cream ran around and played with a few other dogs, including a very cute Pomeranian that was getting a little too friendly for Cookie’s liking. She reminded her doggy friend that long distance relationships very rarely worked out, and that sometimes fetching a stick together was the best you could hope for. They stayed for the better part of an hour. Then they were on the road again.
They made it to the restaurant they had all planned to meet at in plenty of time. Penny and Franky were already there, sitting at a table set for six. Which would be the four of them, plus Stacia and Ernesto.
At the moment it was just the four of them. Stacia and Ernesto weren’t there.
By the time their meals had been ordered and delivered, it was obvious that they weren’t going to be there, either. Just like they hadn’t stopped at the museum.
“How disappointing,” Cookie said. With her fork she stirred the noodles of her chicken alfredo in their creamy white sauce. It smelled delicious, but she was fretting too much to eat. “I hope I didn’t say something that upset her this morning.”
“I’m sure that isn’t it,” Franky told her. “Stacia can be a little flighty, you know.”
He seemed like he was in a much better mood now. He was attacking a plate of peppered chicken breast and white rice, washing it down with a glass of milk. It w
as perhaps the blandest meal that Cookie had ever seen, but he was enjoying every bite.
What he said was true, Cookie knew. Stacia was so much fun to be around, but she could get distracted at the slightest little thing. It was like she had a dozen different things going on in that brain of hers all at once. Or, like she was of two minds. Ernesto seemed to indulge his wife in all things. It might have something to do with him being so much older than her. A man with a young wife would do just about anything to keep her, she was willing to bet. So, if Stacia had seen someplace interesting and asked Ernesto to stop, they might very well be having fun off by themselves somewhere.
Well, at least her other two friends were back to being themselves. Penny and Franky were talking to each other again, even holding hands before the food came. Now they laughed at some whispered joke. That was much better. Cookie much preferred to seem them like this. If they were going to be travel buddies the rest of the way to Titan’s Gorge, she’d much prefer laughter over tense silence. Harsh emotions were bad on the digestion, after all.
They finished dinner at a leisurely pace, talking about daily things and bits of the news and just anything that came to mind. Cookie asked to have the recipe for the rolls when the waiter asked how everything had been. He was happy to oblige, and now she had one more item that she could try out in her bakery. When their dessert came Cookie made sure to order Cream a hamburger to go, plain and without the bun, just like she’d promised. He was going to eat well tonight. He was a good dog, and he deserved a treat.
Franky frowned at her when she ordered, but Cookie ignored him. Jerry was right. Some people just didn’t like dogs.
After dinner, they said their goodbyes and drove together to the next motorhome park, following each other through the stone arches at the entrance. This one had the fancy name of Heaven’s Haven. Jerry snickered at that, making a comment about how he was very sure that no one in Heaven would spend even a minute in this place. Cookie tsked at him but she wasn’t so sure he that he might be wrong.