by Ami Diane
Rose was currently preoccupied fiddling with the deep side part in Jimmy’s hair, so Ella took advantage of the opportunity. Balancing the dessert tray in one hand, she slid the other hand under the lid.
She’d gotten one bite into a snickerdoodle before Rose scolded her.
“That better be your first one.”
“It is.” Ella wiped her mouth to be sure there wasn’t any powdered sugar from the lemon bar she’d sneaked on their walk over.
Jimmy chuckled. “I told you we shouldn’t have had her carry it.”
“She was quite insistent.”
Ella swallowed. “And by insistent, you mean threatened to bake my own cookies, mix them in with yours, and tell everyone you’d made them.”
“Yes. Blackmail looks great on you, dear.”
“Thank you.” Ella gave an elaborate bow, nearly dropping the tray. After straightening, she hollered for Flo to hustle her big butt, drawing several offended looks from passersby.
Rose said they should just go on inside and save a seat since Flo might not get there until the second coming.
Ella was more than fine with this and slipped into the church. Inside, light poured through the many windows, illuminating a bustling crowd.
After depositing the dessert tray on the long island of tables off to the side, she snagged another cookie then rejoined the innkeepers. As they searched for seats enough to accommodate their group, Rose looked back at Ella.
“By the way, do you know how all those wet footprints got on the floor at home? I had a heck of a time mopping it all up.”
Ella cringed. “I’m so sorry. I planned on cleaning that up once I’d changed, but by the time I came back downstairs, the floor was dry.” At this point, it shouldn’t have surprised her at how quickly the neat-freak of an innkeeper had sniffed out Ella’s mess. “You really got on top of it fast. You’re like Mr. Clean, only with hair.”
Rose’s brows dipped behind her cat-eye glasses before she asked, “Did you fall into the lake?”
“Not this time.”
“Where did the water come from?”
Ella looked away, shrugging before muttering under her breath, “It certainly wasn’t toilet water.” Thankfully, the comment went unheard.
They continued to jostle their way through the throng of townspeople towards the front. Fortunately, Wink and Will had beaten them there and laid claim to a row. It helped that they didn’t have to wait for the geriatric snail also known as Flo.
As the trio wove their way to the row where Wink stood waving them in like a ground worker on an airport runway, Ella said, “I still don’t get it. I’ve seen Flo run. Granted each time we were being chased, but still… I know she’s capable of it.” An idea struck her. “Hey, maybe every Sunday, we hire someone to run after her with a knife, steer her towards the church like sheepdogs do, you know?”
Jimmy’s face brightened. “That’s a great idea.”
Rose’s mouth thinned in disapproval as they joined Wink and awkwardly sidestepped between chairs. “No, that’s not a good idea.”
“What’s not a good idea?” Will had his hat off, revealing brown, patent leather hair with a deep part similar to Jimmy’s. He nearly always took the head covering off while indoors, but Ella still found herself having to do a double take every time. It was like a ship losing its bearings because a landmark was missing.
“Rose thinks it’s a bad idea to have someone chase Flo with a knife every Sunday so she shows up on time,” Ella answered.
A crease formed between the inventor’s brows, and he seemed to be giving the idea serious consideration.
“I like it,” Wink said, taking a seat. “I’ll be the first volunteer.”
“I knew I could count on you.” Ella settled in beside her. “But you have to get in line after me.”
She’d picked the seat beside the inventor, and the scent of sandalwood and earth enveloped her. On the other side of Wink, Jimmy leaned in so they could hear him.
“When I went to tell her we’d be leaving the house for the meeting, I found her in the basement. Tinkering.” The last word sounded like a curse word as it rolled off his tongue.
Ella groaned. Flo had converted the hidden speakeasy that used to be her bunker into a sort of weapons shop. Her “tinkering” typically involved supposedly non-lethal weapons that ended up being more dangerous than any projectile weapon.
“Did she tell you what she was doing?” Wink asked in alarm.
Jimmy’s expression flickered with hesitation and genuine fear. “Only that she was working on taking your campaign to a whole new level.”
Now all of them groaned.
“We need a plan of attack,” Will said. “If things get out of hand, Jimmy and I can tackle her.”
Ella nodded. “And Wink and I will handle whatever doomsday device she’s unleashed. Meanwhile, Rose can sound the alarm, get people to safety, then get the sheriff. I’d say to also put the fire department on standby, but since Keystone doesn’t have one, then we’ll have to get by with fire extinguishers.”
A chorus of nods in silent agreement went around, and they settled in, eyes forward, waiting for the council members to take their seats on the podium. And for Flo to make her grand entrance.
A woman walked down the center aisle, the fabric of her empire waist dress fluttered like the billows of a sail, and Ella flashed back to that body swinging in the breeze.
She shivered, drawing both Will’s and Wink’s attention. “Sorry. I’m fine. Just had a chill.” After clearing her throat and looking back and forth between them, she asked, “I know this is random and not the best time to ask, but who all was after the pirate’s treasure? Besides Six, that is.”
Wink shifted in her seat. “He had a few after him over the years, off and on. But the only steadfast one who comes to mind besides Six is Darren Alexander.”
On Ella’s other side, Will nodded. “That’s right. He’s been the man’s shadow any time the pirate shows up in town.”
“You know,” Ella said, “it would be nice to know the pirate’s name, so we could all stop calling him ‘the pirate’.” And now, it looked like none of them would be learning it anytime soon.
She glanced at her watch and let out an audible and very pointed sigh. At the end of the row came a loud “Ow!”
A middle-aged lady glared up into Flo’s wrinkled face.
“Well, make room, then, if you don’t want to get your toes stepped on. It ain’t like I don’t have hips.”
“She’s got too much hip, if you ask me,” Wink said under her breath.
“I heard that,” Flo huffed as she plopped down beside Will.
Ella rolled her eyes at Wink. “That, she hears.”
The old tenant took a moment to gather herself, dab at the sweat that glistened on her upper lip, then batted her eyelashes at Will. “Hello, William. You look handsome today.”
The inventor mumbled something unintelligible, the back of his ears reddening. He leaned close to Ella and whispered, “Trade seats?”
“And sit next to the beast? Sorry, you’re on your own.” She patted his arm sympathetically. “But if she proposes marriage, I got your back.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Anytime.”
“Really helpful.”
“I thought so.”
Flo leaned out and said loudly, “Would you two hush already?”
Ella stuck out her tongue. “How you even cross over the threshold of the church without bursting into flames, I’ll never know.”
By now, their loud conversation was drawing the attention of the surrounding townspeople.
Wink hushed them before dropping her voice. “Flo, Jimmy said you were doing something for the campaign.”
The crazy woman’s eyes glinted, but she didn’t respond.
“What were you doing?”
“You’ll see.” Flo’s shriveled hand fluffed up her mountain of hair, and Ella felt sorry for anyone sitting behind her. Wink sett
led back in her chair, her expression full of apprehension and—if Ella interpreted it correctly—a wish to send the crazy woman to an asylum.
On stage, council members began filing up the steps, including Ella’s least favorite person. Patience strode, her back ramrod, as if she was marching to a funeral.
Grinding her teeth, Ella turned away before she began yelling at the Puritan. Although her respect for Chapman was growing into friendship, she would never agree with how he ran the law in town. That woman should be locked up behind bars for what she did, but setting a place on fire and nearly burning her to death—well, singing her arm hair off and ruining her favorite sneakers—wasn’t all that unusual. Of course, if that were the requirement for putting someone in the slammer, half the town would be in the clink. Heck, Six was the perfect example of the sheriff’s lax interpretation of the law.
The floor vibrated beneath her feet, and she twisted around in her seat. A wide figure slowly lumbered up the center aisle. The local mechanic, Lou, had exchanged his usual grease-stained coveralls for an ill-fitting suit jacket that was at least three sizes too small. It strained at the seams, mostly around his thick shoulders, and didn’t appear to be able to button in the front.
As he waddled, he reached into a cloth bag, and his hand came out with small bottles. It looked like sample-sized bottles of hot sauce. When he drew closer, she could see some had either clear or amber liquid rolling around inside. Every time he handed one to a townsperson, he told them to vote for him in the upcoming mayoral election.
She elbowed both Will and Wink, nodding in the mechanic’s direction.
“That sneaky boozehound,” Wink huffed.
Rose’s blonde curls shivered as she shook her head. “In a church, no less.”
Flo obviously had overhead because she leaped to her feet, shoving and crawling her way over Rose and Jimmy to reach the center aisle. She pocketed the first bottle Lou handed her, then she looked into his bag, picking out another. And another, until Lou cut her off.
Stuffing the bottles into whatever available crevice she could—including her bra—Flo made her way back to her seat, grinning from ear to ear.
Ella massaged her knee where the old kook had struck her then turned her attention to the microphone set on the podium beside the lectern. Sal the barber slid behind the mic stand, the lights above bouncing off his slicked-back hair.
As he opened the meeting, Ella nudged Wink and whispered, “Did you bring it?”
Wink’s expression pinched in confusion a moment before it cleared. She dug into her purse—which was considerably smaller than Flo’s by at least one-third—and pulled out a container.
She handed it to Ella who proceeded to carefully peel off the lid. The scent of buttered popcorn rose. With the first crunch, several pairs of eyes turned her way, and she chewed softer.
Without so much as a raised eyebrow in the form of a question, Flo reached around Will, making sure to invade his personal space, and dug her claws into the popcorn.
Ella hissed for her to get her own before the inventor intervened, whether in support of Ella or to keep Flo from molesting him, she couldn’t be sure.
A large shawl a few rows up and over caught her eye. Maria sat, her head bent in animated discussion with a woman beside her. Their profiles seemed to be exact mirrors of each other. Lowering her voice, Ella asked Wink who was sitting beside the art teacher.
“That’s her sister. Neither married. I think they share a house together.”
Ella’s gaze lingered on them another moment before she realized they weren’t as interesting as what was happening on stage. The meeting dragged on as Sal’s voice droned. The council members took turns discussing old business, relinquishing the floor to each other.
This was her least favorite part, not because the business itself wasn’t interesting. It was. Currently, a councilman whose name escaped Ella was bringing up the topic of the discovery of animal traps set up at Twin Springs and would whoever it is please stop because Michael (whoever he was) had nearly lost his foot in one. But she found them less entertaining than the main event.
When Sal finally opened the floor up to discuss new business, the room erupted. The rumble of voices died to a dull roar, but only after Sal threatened them all with bad haircuts.
Ella couldn’t help but grin and settled in, stuffing another large handful of popcorn into her mouth. “Here we go.”
On the other side of Will, Flo’s wrist bent as she checked her watch. Ella had noticed her doing a similar move throughout the earlier proceedings. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach, and she caught Will’s eye. They exchanged wary looks. The movement had not gone amiss by him either.
Sometime between George with a beard accusing George without a beard of flirting with his Suzy, Flo checked her watch again then leaped to her feet.
Her voice creaked and boomed at the same time. “I have an announcement!”
“Well, you can just wait your turn,” George with a beard said. He currently had George without a beard in a good headlock as they’d both forgone the microphone.
“Stuff it, Georgie. I changed your diapers and know at just what age you stopped wetting the bed.”
George sans beard laughed, no easy feat considering his windpipe was partially obstructed. The skin on George with the beard turned bright red.
Flo waved her hands in the air. “Everybody outside. I got something you won’t wanna miss.”
Nobody moved.
Sal bent his head close to the microphone, his lips nearly brushing it. “What do you want to show us, Flo?” His tone said he was anything but eager.
Flo rolled her eyes. “If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise. But if you don’t all get your sorry behinds out there, you’ll miss it.”
Grumbling rolled around the room like one of the waves currently breaking the border-turned-makeshift-shore. Never the less, Keystone citizens began filing out of the church.
Ella abandoned the container of popcorn on her chair, suddenly alert. “Everybody’s clear on the plan, remember?”
Her muscles were primed with adrenaline, and she noticed both Will and Jimmy hovering just behind the crazy tenant. They were about to find out whatever Flo had planned.
Chapter 8
OUTSIDE, ELLA SQUINTED in the bright sunlight as she elbowed her way through the throng of people, keeping Flo in her line-of-sight. This was easy due to the woman’s husky voice projecting out like a foghorn as she directed people to watch the sky, and it was made even easier by the tall bouffant that was a head above the crowd.
Ella broke her vigilance long enough to look up. A few skiffs of clouds, stretched like cotton candy, skirted across a darkening azure sky. At Flo’s barking command, the onlookers hushed.
Ella exchanged a concerned glance with Wink that told her the diner owner was just as in the dark as she was, which only served to increase her anxiety.
A low hum grew from a distant point, a growl on the ocean wind. Steadily rumbling louder, it coalesced into the throaty whine of an airplane. Soon, the aircraft circled Twin Hills like a fruit fly around a bowl of over-ripened bananas.
A nearby voice called out with disgust, “That’s what we came to see? The Yellow Baron crop dustin’ them hills?”
Shuffling like the rustling of dried leaves rose up around Ella as the crowd grew restless and began hedging towards the church doors again.
“No, numbnuts. That ain’t it.” Flo pointed at the plane. “Watch.”
Ella swallowed, not sure if she should be proud of Flo using the term “numbnuts” which she’d obviously stolen from Ella or nervous that the crazy woman’s plan involved an airplane at all. She was currently entertaining both emotions.
The plane swooped a large arc over the forest then the park, heading towards the south end of Main Street.
She tilted her head towards Wink. “Who’s the Yellow Baron?”
Her boss’s face was currently set in a deep frown. “Ol’ Joe. He’s an aeria
l crop duster. Been flying since the dawn of time. Was a delta puffer back in the day.”
Ella had no idea what a delta puffer was but thought it sounded like a person who smoked tobacco of dubious origin. Whatever it was, Wink’s reverent tone implied it was important.
“The problem is,” Wink continued as the plane’s motor rose in pitch, “is that Ol’ Joe’s a raisin who can’t see two feet in front of his face and should be grounded from ever flying again. Between you and me, I think he’s been breathing in too many of those chemicals he sprays over the fields. His son’s been trying to get him to sell the plane, but he’s too dang stubborn.”
Ella shielded her eyes as she stared up at the yellow biplane now over the diner. “Flo, what exactly did you do?”
“Relax, Poodle Head. I simply tinkered with the sprayer over his exhaust to do some skywriting. Should be pink, like Wink’s hair.”
“Oh boy. And what, pray tell, did you ask him to write?”
She could hear the grin in Flo’s face as the old woman said, “You’ll see. You’ll get a real boot out of it.”
The biplane shot up and began a procession of elaborate rolls and loops. As it did, bright pink smoke shot out of the exhaust.
Ella’s breath seized in her chest, waiting for whatever was going to go wrong to, in fact, go wrong as it always did when Flo was involved. It began well enough, with the Yellow Baron producing the first word.
“Vote,” Ella read aloud along with several others.
That was a good start. Her breaths came easier. Maybe, for once, one of Flo’s campaigning schemes would work. Lord knew, that business of handing out gun rounds with Wink’s name on it hadn’t worked. Too bad the old gal had gotten through most of the neighborhood before Ella had caught on.
Her body tensed as the next letter that came out was a “P.” She’d been expecting a “W” for Wink, and judging by the confused murmuring, she wasn’t alone.
The next letter was “I.”
“Flo?”
She waved a knobby hand at Ella to be quiet.
“S.”
At this point, Flo began looking confused, as well. “That cotton head. I told him to spell out ‘pink’. How hard can it be? P-I-N-K.”