Poplar Falls

by Arseneault, Pierre C;

  “What now?” Lemkie lamented, who really didn’t want to know but it was his job to find out.

  Dodge opened the freezer while a speechless Lemkie peered inside. Dodge handed the funeral parlour brochure to Tilley. She looked at the brochure and quickly pieced it together. The box of money containing many more identical copies of the pamphlet was all the clues she needed. Walter was saving up to bury his mother. The young man she was beginning to see as some sort of perverted monster had been part human after all. Feeling sick to her stomach from a combination of what she was seeing and smelling, Tilley dropped the brochure in the box and went outside to get fresh air.

  61

  The night air was warm and muggy again, just like it had been for the last week, which was the perfect weather to breed mosquitoes. The two detectives sat in Dodge’s screened-in porch, enjoying the quiet night air, the only sounds being the frustrated mosquitoes on the screens in search of a way inside. Dodge, still in his running shorts and T-shirt, smelled of sweat but he didn’t care. Neither did Tilley, even though she showered at the gym before heading home. But before going inside her home, she crossed the street to sip beer in Dodge’s porch.

  “Well, the coroner confirmed my suspicions,” Dodge said. “Walter’s mother died of heart failure. Died in her sleep, he figured. She was already long dead when Walter put her in the freezer.”

  “I know he wasn’t right in the head anymore…”

  “Anymore? I don’t think he was ever right in the head,” Dodge said.

  “I just wonder why he wouldn’t call an ambulance… or us. Why wouldn’t he have called the cops? His mother was dead.”

  “I don’t think he was able to think it through like a normal person anymore,” Dodge replied.

  Tilley sipped her beer before responding. “Rumours are spreading like wildfire that Walter was the Panty Bandit.”

  “Well, considering that the break-ins stopped when he had his surgery, it won’t take long now for people to talk up a storm. Besides, isn’t the fire chief Geraldine’s neighbour?”

  “Yeah,” Tilley replied. “She’ll be plying him for information, that’s for sure.”

  “I bumped into Ester at the Food Emporium,” Dodge replied.

  “I bet she wanted to know if the penis cozy fit,” Tilley replied with a chuckle.

  She did actually ask that very question, thought Dodge. But he wouldn’t give Tilley the chance to laugh at him with this one. Dodge ignored the comment and continued. “She wanted to know about Walter and his mom, if the rumours were true.”

  “Well, if the Naughty Knitters are talking about it, there’s no stopping the rumour mill. Not that I assumed we could or anything.”

  “This town isn’t what I expected when I moved here, let me tell you that,” Dodge replied before drinking the rest of his beer. He went to his cabinet which hid the mini fridge and got a fresh can of beer and put his empty in its place.

  “Speaking of rumours,” Tilley added. “I bumped into Marci Grant at the gym earlier tonight.”

  “How was she? I mean, we arrested her girlfriend for murder, after all. Or did she flirt with you again?” Dodge asked with a smirk as he cracked open his beer.

  “Actually, she wasn’t her usual self,” Tilley replied. She sipped beer and continued. “She was much colder, more serious, and not her usual flirty self.”

  “So I take that as a no,” Dodge said, wondering if that had been disappointment he heard just now in Tilley’s voice.

  Tilley ignored her partner’s comments as she continued. “She asked how Trudy was. She sounded concerned.”

  “What does that have to do with rumours?” Dodge asked. “You said, speaking of rumours.”

  “Well, turns out that Dave, the guy Vernon was seeing, is a carpenter and woodworker.”

  “That explains the intricately carved lamp,” Dodge said.

  “Yes, that. And turns out he’s the one who makes and puts up Marci Grant’s real-estate signs.”

  “This town is getting smaller and smaller all the time,” Dodge quipped. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Well, according to Marci, Vernon was going to leave his wife and come out. So he could be with Dave.”

  Dodge didn’t have a reply for that and sipped beer instead. Tilley finished her beer and got another before Dodge changed the subject.

  “Sadie’s still in the hospital.”

  “I knew that,” Tilley replied.

  “No, I mean she had another episode today,” Dodge replied. “Freaked out, tried to bite a nurse and punched the doctor in the face, so they restrained and sedated her again.”

  “I have to admit I assumed she was faking it, but I’m not sure anymore.”

  “It must be something in the water to make all you Poplar Falls women crazy,” Dodge said.

  “Don’t you go lumping us all together now,” Tilley replied. “We’re not all crazy.”

  “Did Lemkie tell you Calvin gave his notice?”

  “What? Are you serious?”

  “I’m thinking Lemkie wasn’t surprised,” Dodge stated. “He thinks Calvin knows that he knows he leaked the Lucy Shaffer sex tapes. But he also knows that Lemkie doesn’t have proof. Anyway, Lemkie said he quit because he couldn’t handle the stress of it all.”

  “Bad timing,” Tilley replied.

  “Well, he’s not gone yet,” Dodge added. “Said he’d stick around until things settle down for Lemkie.”

  “Well, between the video and Trudy confessing, that’ll settle the Charlie Baker investigation. And there’s really nothing to investigate on Walter since he died of smoke inhalation and didn’t actually murder his mother.”

  “True,” Dodge replied. “But he still has to process the Sadie Vernon murder, not to mention all the new Panty Bandit evidence.”

  “And here I was, hoping for a quiet summer,” Tilley stated, sipping beer.

  “You going to Charlie Baker’s wake tomorrow?”

  “Why?” Tilley asked. “Why would I go to that?”

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m curious to see who goes and who doesn’t.”

  “After everything that happened, I do have to admit to being a bit curious,” Tilley replied with a smile. “But you’re probably just going to see if Ms. Weatherbee will be there.”

  “Very funny,” Dodge replied.

  Tilley guffawed. “It wouldn’t kill you to date. I don’t think I’ve seen you date since you moved here.”

  “Life is easier that way,” Dodge replied. “Nobody disappoints you, or you them. When you’re alone, nobody betrays you or shuns your affections. Plus, we live in a trade- up society. Most people in relationships are always looking for better. Bah… Besides, I’m old and set in my ways.” Dodge purposely left out the part where he had felt trapped in the last few years of his marriage and was enjoying freedom too much to want to change that. Tilley didn’t need to hear that part, he thought.

  “You can’t just give up,” Tilley replied.

  “I never said I gave up,” Dodge replied with a smile. “When the right woman comes along.” Dodge lifted his beer as if to toast and drank.

  Tilley finished her beer, got up, and handed her empty to Dodge. “Well, I’m off to get some sleep.”

  Dodge watched his partner cross the street and disappear into her home. He gathered the empty beer cans and bagged them. Tying the bag shut he set it aside, thinking it wasn’t full enough yet to give to Walter. He’d put the bag out on collection day, full or not, he thought as he walked to the washroom to urinate. In mid-stream, he remembered Walter’s body lying in bed.

  “Shit,” he exclaimed as the reality set in that there would be no Walter collection day, ever again.

  62

  Floral arrangements overpowered the area near the closed casket at Elder’s Funeral Parlor. At the Charl
ie Baker wake Dodge stood in the back of the room, eating a crust-free finger sandwich. It was some sort of sweet-tasting mystery meat he had yet to identify. He ate the dry sandwich while watching the crowd mingle. Many of the people he recognized from the investigation or around town, although there were some men mingling who he didn’t recognize. But part of him knew that some of these men were there to see who Charlie Baker’s lovers were. Most likely some of them thought that if these women were horny enough to be with Charlie then they might have a shot. Most predatory men like these never included loneliness into the equation. They never realized that most of these women didn’t like Charlie Baker for his sexual prowess or the size of his manhood, but rather how he made them feel about themselves. From what he gathered, Charlie Baker had a way of making the women feel desired and interesting. That’s what they wanted. At least that’s what Dodge assumed they wanted. He was no expert when it came to women. Sure, they thought he was handsome, but charming wasn’t a word most women used to describe him.

  Ham, he wondered to himself as he swallowed, wishing he had something to wash it down with. It must be ham in these sandwiches, with some sort of spice or sauce.

  63

  Across the room, Emma and her cronies each sat with a plate as they watched people mingle at the wake and gossiped. Each of them had their bag of knitting supplies, as the women would need to have a Naughty Knitters meeting afterwards.

  “Look at all these women,” Emma said to the other ladies. “Charlie Baker was charming, but I didn’t think he was that good.”

  “He must have been crazy to be seeing all those women at the same time,” Agatha said. “Women are jealous by nature. One of them was bound to kill him eventually.”

  “You were seeing him, too,” Mavis quipped with a smile and a wink. Everyone knew Mavis was referring to the peephole Agatha had used to watch Charlie having sex.

  Agatha blushed fiercely and gave Mavis the stink eye. She would never live this one down, but on the bright side, as a result of everything, Myrtle had shown her some of the best websites for pornography.

  “I don’t understand what all the fuss is about,” Geraldine said. “There is such a thing as too big, you know.”

  “What?” Ester asked.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, someone turn up Ester’s hearing aid,” Emma said as she adjusted her bag of knitting supplies.

  “They should have put up a picture of his Johnson,” Mavis said with a smile. She was referring to the picture next to the closed casket. No one really knew who it came from, but one of the ladies had provided a picture of a smiling Charlie Baker. “More would have recognized him with a picture of his Johnson.”

  “Mavis!” Geraldine scolded.

  “What?” Mavis replied with a smile and wink.

  “My George says not all men want a lot of women,” Geraldine said, wife of Pastor George. “Some are happy with just one.”

  “Men are pigs,” Emma blurted.

  “Emma!” Geraldine scolded.

  “Well, it’s the truth. If you want it sugar-coated, get a donut,” Emma replied.

  “What?” Ester asked.

  “I went with Ester to her doctor’s appointment last week,” Geraldine said. “He told her she had Celiac disease. She thought he said she had silly ass disease.”

  All the women except for Ester laughed, garnering disapproving looks from many of the others at the wake.

  64

  Standing in the funeral parlour, Dodge couldn’t help but think about Walter and his brochures. He had accumulated many of them, which Dodge assumed meant he came here often. Perhaps to make the arrangements, but not being able to vocalize what he wanted, like he would have before his surgery, must have been unbelievably frustrating. His mother’s body stayed preserved while he tried to make enough money to give her a proper burial. Sam Elder confirmed what Dodge suspected. Walter would come by, take a brochure, and leave. Sometimes he tried to talk to Sam, but with a limited vocabulary, Walter would get flustered and leave. Dodge had Walter on his mind when he spotted Calvin walking over with a plate of mystery meat sandwiches and cheese cubes on toothpicks. Calvin’s black eye was barely noticeable now.

  “I’m surprised to see you here,” Dodge said.

  “I thought the guy who jumped me for the list of women might come to the wake,” Calvin replied. “I thought there might be a chance I can identify him.”

  “Good point,” Dodge replied, scanning the room for men he didn’t know.

  “It irks me that he got away with it.”

  “I hear you gave Lemkie your notice.”

  “Yup,” Calvin replied. “I can’t do this anymore. My nerves are shot and it’s no secret that I throw up when I’m stressed out too much. I just can’t anymore. I’m on anxiety meds, too, now.”

  “I suppose we’re not all cut out for law enforcement,” Dodge replied.

  “Besides, I got a new job and the benefits are pretty awesome,” Calvin said as he ate cheese and stared off in the distance.

  Dodge glanced in the direction Calvin was looking and noticed Stella Rubbin, smiling slightly as she returned Calvin’s gaze.

  65

  “Who’s that?” Stella asked of no one in particular as she stood near the flower arrangements in Elder’s Funeral Parlor.

  Marci Grant, who stood nearby, followed Stella’s gaze to a short, busty Asian woman who sat alone.

  “I don’t remember her name, but she looked at the Turlington house a while ago,” Marci replied.

  Stella looked Marci up and down. She was wearing her usual tight-fitting business attire and her battered brown driving gloves, which Trudy would have given her grief over. Then Stella realized she had actually vocalized her question out loud. She had managed to stay sober for the funeral, but she still wasn’t thinking clearly, and would have killed for a drink right at that moment.

  Marci gave her a smile and then returned her gaze at the busty Asian woman. “She’s a bit high-strung but she’s got a nice frickin’ rack,” Marci said.

  “Those have got to be fake,” Stella replied.

  “Who cares,” Marci replied, which got her a look from Stella that said, are you serious.

  “When you’re jumping up and down on a trampoline, do you care if it’s synthetic or real rubber?” Marci asked with a smirk. “I know I don’t. And boy, would I love to see those on a trampoline.”

  “And here I was thinking only men were jerks,” Stella Rubbin replied as she turned and walked away.

  Marci scanned the crowd in hopes that maybe, just maybe, Lucy Shaffer might come to Charlie Baker’s funeral after all.

  66

  People at the funeral parlour talked about her, yes, but nobody knew who the short, busty Asian woman was. And while many watched her, no one noticed when she stole a single knitting needle from Geraldine’s bag of knitting supplies as she walked past. No one said a thing as she calmly walked toward Stella Rubbin, who stood near the closed casket. Stella was wiping away a tear as the short, busty Asian woman stopped and stood next to her.

  “Is dat a Chahlie Baka? You fuck Chahlie?”

  Stella looked her up and down before speaking. “Oh, hell no!” she blurted as she walked away. “I’ve had enough crazy for one day.”

  Before anyone knew what was happening the Asian woman had flung open the casket while screaming.

  “You asshoe!” she shouted as she plunged the knitting needle into the late Charlie Baker’s chest. “I get these fa you,” the Asian woman shouted as she pointed at her chest. “Fie-tousand-dolla each! They heavy, my back hut a lot.”

  Some shrieked, others gasped in shock as they watched the short, busty Asian woman burst into hysterics.

  “You fucka all dees women… you asshoe!”

  Sam Elder wasn’t a fit man but he wasn’t a small man either, so picking up the tiny Asian woman wasn’t very
difficult. Nor did the small Asian woman put up much of a fight, except to berate him with verbal abuse.

  “You put-a me dow,” the Asian woman shouted. “Put-a me dow now!”

  Everyone watched as Sam Elder paused, threw the big-breasted Asian woman over his shoulder, and carried her away. And while everyone was enthralled by the spectacle that belonged in some sort of offbeat comedic performance, Mavis was peering into the coffin, trying to see if Charlie Baker still had wood.

  67

  “What’d I miss?” Tilley whispered to Calvin, having just arrived. In that moment everyone was quiet, having just witnessed what they would call the Charlie Baker Funeral Fiasco that would have the town talking for years. There was no way anyone could ever forget this day, especially since the short, busty Asian woman and Sam Elder would eventually get married.

  68

  A jingle suddenly broke the silence of the wake and sent Myrtle into a frenzied search through her purse. She pulled out a large, pink-rhinestone-encrusted iPhone and tapped away furiously at it until the resonating sound ceased. With arthritic hands, she fumbled the phone for a moment and then smiled at everyone in the funeral parlour.

  Ester looked around, scrunched her nose, and smiled as she spoke. “Myrtle just got a booty call,” she said to everyone within ear-shot.

  Myrtle flushed fiercely while Emma and Mavis giggled like school girls.

  December

  69

  Agatha sat in the soft light of her Christmas tree, which she had put up on the first of December. The gentle red lights cast a warm glow, and the tree made her feel festive while sitting at the kitchen table where she checked her emails on her laptop. Some of the tenants of her apartment building were happy that their elderly landlady had finally caught up with the times. Apparently one of her tenants needed a plumber to check her bathroom sink, as it had a rotten smell emanating from it. Agatha noted it on her list of things to do.