Calamity Jayne and the Sisterhood of the Traveling Lawn Gnome (37 page)

"I see. And what did you plan to do when and if the vandals showed up?" Carruthers asked.

"Scream like bloody hell, and call the cops on the cell," Uncle Bo said. "I may be brave, but I ain't stupid. Know what I'm sayin'?"

I shook my head. I couldn't believe Uncle Bo was still trying to perpetuate the charade.

Me? I just wanted to get out of the past and back to a place and time that didn't include creepy gnomes from
Journey to Planet X
and
Teenagers from Outer Space
.

"Will you be needing anything further from these witnesses?" I asked the deputy. "Since Mrs. Winegardner has a key to the museum and permission to come and go, it seems she and her, uh, er, friend, here are in the clear." 

"What 'bout us? We free to go, too?" Gram asked.

The deputy seemed to hesitate. "I suppose so. Unless Mrs. Winegardner and Mr. Beauregard here want to press charges for stalking."

"Stalking!" Joe's Adam's apple went up and down and up and down like the temperature in Iowa in late winter. "Now I don't think—"

"Of course, we won't be filing charges," Abigail said. "After all, we're neighbors."

I saw Gram give Abigail a funny look.

"Come on, Hannah," Joe said. "Let's go home."

We watched the odd couples leave while Carruthers and the reserve officer did one final search of the premises.

"So where do we stand?" Shelby asked the officer.

"In a holding pattern," Carruthers said. "I'm already in hot water. I'm way past my authorized shift. I was only supposed to work the gala and go out of service," she explained. "It would be different if we'd actually caught someone in the act, but all I caught were four harmless old folks."

Obviously she didn't know Uncle Bo, and my gammy and her hubby like I did.

"Sorry, Beth. I didn't want to get you in trouble," Shelby said.

"No problem. The good ol' boys always seem to find reasons to keep me off patrol. But I promise I'll present it all to Samuels tomorrow and see what he suggests. We'll likely start with rounding up suspects, especially Jada Garcia and her circle of cheerleaders, bring them in and have a nice long talk and get this sorted out. Meanwhile, I'll have patrol do extra checks out here overnight." Deputy Carruthers shook Shelby's hand. "Thanks for the tip anyway," she said, and left with the reserve officer.

"So that's your source," I said to Shelby.

She nodded.

"She's a good cop, and she's getting a bum deal from the good ol' boys club. I thought a bust like this might get someone's attention and get her out of the office."

"I'm sorry it didn't work out, Shelby," I said and meant it.

"At least the museum is safe," Taylor said. "That's what counts."

"And with the gnome safely locked in the museum, he won't be the foreteller of any more mischief tonight," I added.

"I can't wait to tell Brian about that piece of work mentee," Kari said, as we walked back to the cars. "He'll be blown away."

"Just don't do go overboard on the I-told-you-sos," I warned. "Being magnanimous when you're right and you both know it goes a long way towards making your partner feel like more of a worm than he already does. You don't have to rub his nose in it."

"Oo. 'Magnanimous!' Someone's been using the online dictionary again, I see," Dixie snarled, apparently still smarting over her brief stint as a super-duper sized bed slat.

Tired and glum, we took our time walking to the parking lot where Jada had left the Buick. As I walked, I scratched.

"What's wrong with you?" Taylor asked. "You've been scratching all night."

"My guess? Fleas," Dixie said.

I shook my head and tried not to scratch.

"What?" Dixie said. "I could've suggested something more crude as the source of your itching, you know."

"From personal experience?" I responded, feeling irritable and depressed.

"Ladies, please. We're tired and disappointed, but we can't turn on each other," Peacemaker Taylor said. "We have to stick together."

"Dixie's sure got the sticking part down," I noted.

"Yeah? Well, nobody can say you don't come up to scratch, Miss 'Is That a Quirt in Your Pants?' Turner," Dixie countered.

 "Oh, for heaven's sake. Dixie got wedged under a bed and Tressa got hung up on a farm wagon by her holster. Can we agree we were lucky tonight? No one got hurt, and no damage was done," Taylor exclaimed.

"Hung up on a wagon?" Shelby said.

"I think they heard it the first time, Miss Town Crier," I said. "Way to out me,
sister
," I snapped at Taylor. "Maybe I should air some of your dirty little secrets?"

Taylor gave me a 'don't you dare' look.

"Can we just go home now?" Kari said. "I honestly can't wait to see Brian's face when I break the news about Miss Martina Banfield."

"You'll have to wait. He's at Townsend's," I reminded her, thinking it was probably better for both of them to have a cooling-off period.

"So what do you suppose happened tonight?" Taylor asked. "Why the change of plans?"

I shook my head.

"Honestly? I have no idea," I said. "But I'm worried. I'm very worried about Jada."

I pulled out my phone and tried the number she gave me, walking in the direction of the only car left in the parking lot, the only car anywhere I reckoned that had fat, pink tornadoes all over it.

"Stop!" Dixie put a hand out. "You hear that?"

"What? The last dying gasps of dust bunnies under a certain pioneer bed?" I asked.

"No, Miss Bed Bugs. The phone!"

We stopped and listened.

"I don't hear anything," Kari said.

Dixie shook her head.

"I'm sure I heard a phone."

I tried Jada's phone again. This time it went to voice mail.

We headed to the car. By now, it was after three, and I was one tired Martha Jane. I got in the front, and Taylor got in behind the wheel. Kari and Dixie crawled into the back.

"Aaah!"

Screams erupted from the backseat of the car, and I watched two passengers bail from either side of the vehicle.

"What the hell?" Dixie said.

I turned around in time to see a head pop up from the backseat.

"Aaaah!" I followed Dixie's example, jumping out of the car and landing in a heap on the gravel.

"Oh, my God! Jada?" I heard Taylor say.

I shook my head. Same tune. Different day.

The dome light in the Buick came on, and I stared. (Okay. So I've been without a working dome light so long I'd forgotten cars came equipped with them.) "My God! Jada! What happened to you?"

I got up and got a look at our unexpected passenger.

Jada Garcia looked like she'd been a few rounds in the ring—and lost the count epically.

"Crissy happened," Jada said, wiping tears. "She's lost it! She's completely lost it!"

"She hit you? Why?" Taylor asked. "Did she find out you spoke to us?"

She shook her head. "No! No! I went along like we agreed. But then Cissy started talking about making a big statement this time and how cool it would be to burn the museum down. She was so scary. I didn't know what to do. I was too afraid to tell her that I'd already told you about the plan. I was afraid of what she'd do. To me. To everybody in the museum. She was so bent on torching the place. So I told her about Martina's study instead. I heard you all talking about it at the newspaper office. I told her what I thought she was doing. She got so angry with me, she started punching me and hitting me. She called me a liar and said Martina wouldn't do that to us. She even put a knife to my throat. I thought I was going to die. When I told her about the thesis, she got this look in her eyes. Real cold. I realized then she had feelings for Martina—deep feelings that went beyond coach or friendship or sisterhood."

"Where is Cissy now?" I asked.

"That's just it. She went to find Martina! I'm afraid of what she might do if she finds her! I tried to call Martina, but she's not answering her phone. Please! Don't you understand? Martina's in danger! We have to find her or something terrible is going to happen! I know it!"

We piled into the Buick.

"We need to call the police," Taylor said. "Get them involved in the search for Cissy. Jada needs to file a police report so they can pick Cissy up."

"I'll call Carruthers," Shelby said. "She ought to get the credit."

"If Cissy has Martina, where would she take her?" Dixie asked.

"I think I know!" Jada exclaimed.

Taylor, Shelby, and I looked at each other.

"The clearing!" we said.

Taylor peeled out of the gravel driveway and hit the county road that would take us to Dusty's place.

"Maybe I should drive," I suggested.

"Maybe you shouldn't," Taylor said, kicking it up a notch.

I stared at her.

"You're going over the speed limit, you know. A lot over."

"I know. Maybe I'll luck out and get stopped, and we can alert the authorities."

"If she's there, she'll hear us coming," I pointed out.

"We can go through Portia's grandparent's timber! It's much closer!" Jada pointed out. "If Cissy hears us, she'll think it's the other sisters."

Jada directed us to the area.

"Oh, my God! It's Cissy's car!" Jada pointed at a black Taurus. "She's here!"

"Any luck with Carruthers?" I asked Shelby.

She shook her head.

"It went right to voice mail."

"Shouldn't we call 9-1-1?" Kari asked.

"I'm trying," Shelby Lynn said. "But I can't get any bars now."

"We don't even know for sure if she has Martina," I said. "But we might still have the element of surprise."

"Tressa's right. If Cissy hears sirens, she could panic and do something drastic," Taylor said.

"So, what do we do?" Kari asked.

I thought about it.

"Didn't you say that you wore black-hooded outfits when you met out here?" I asked Jada.

She nodded.

"Cissy kept them in the trunk of her car. Why?"

"Wait a minute!" I ran to Cissy's car. I opened the driver's door and located the trunk latch and pulled. The trunk mechanism clicked. I ran to the trunk and lifted the lid and shined my cell phone light into the back.

"Son of a Mother Ship! What
not
on earth!"

Several glow-in-the-dark alien masks stared up at me from the dark trunk.

"Those are the masks we wore when we chased that Dusty guy," Jada said.

I felt the corners of my mouth turn up.

It came to me then. A
Grinch
of an idea.

You know. A "wonderful, awful idea."

I picked up a mask and put it on.

"Wait a minute! You can't mean—!" Taylor started.

"Are you serious?" Kari exclaimed.

"Do they have an extra short robe?" Dixie asked.

"Do they have extra long?" Shelby asked.

I grinned and held out a robe.

"How do you say, 'Take me to your Leader'?" I said.

Robes donned, alien masks on our heads ready to pull down over our faces when the time was right, we walked by the light of a cell phone, sisters from other mothers, silent travelers from another dimension.

Jada led the way. I was next, followed by Taylor and Kari. Our mini and maxi aliens rounded out the six-pack.

Our plan was simple. Surround the clearing, observe, and when and if we saw an opportunity, launch our alien attack.

While the walking distance from this direction was less, the terrain was just as rugged with dense woods and thorny bushes and overturned trees making the trek tricky. As planned, we began to space ourselves apart. I stayed with Jada. No way did I want to face Aunt Mo if anything happened to Mick's girl.

It didn't take long for us to pick up the sound of raised voices.

I put a hand on Jada's arm and moved around her, putting a hand to my lips.

"It wasn't that way at all, Cissy! Don't you understand? You're part of something monumental! Groundbreaking! You should be flattered I chose you!"

Holy criminy! Talk about Martina the demented mentee.

"Flattered? Flattered! Flattered that you lied to me and used me? I thought you cared about us! Cared about
me
!"

I hazarded a step closer and reached out and pushed tree limbs apart so I could get a view of the clearing. A lantern sat in the center of the clearing. Martina sat on the ground near the circle of stones, her hands bound in front. Cissy paced back and forth. I gasped when I saw the flash of a blade in her hand.

"I do care about you, Cissy!" Martina said. "I do! But you have to understand that this research is important!"

"More important than us? More important than the trust we had in you? More important than The Sisterhood?"

"Don't you get it? I created The Sisterhood, Cissy! Me! All those get-togethers, all those gifts, all those girls' nights out? I was the one who brought you together to make an unbreakable bond."

"So Jada was right? The alcohol? The shopping? The partying? It was all so you could use us to collect data?"

I could hear the hysteria building in Cissy's voice.

"Don't you see, Cissy? If we better understand the motivations that encourage girls from rural, middle class families to form gang affiliations and engage in gang activity we can use those incentives to guide them into positive, beneficial activities."

"We trusted you! Don't you get it? We trusted you!"

"You can still trust me. Now that you know about my research—"

"Research? That's all you care about! Research! All the time we thought you cared about us when all you wanted was to create your own girl gang so we could be your guinea pigs! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"

I felt Jada's fingers squeeze my arm.

"Do something!" she whispered.

She was right. With Cissy's rage skyrocketing, a violent blastoff couldn't be far off.

I pulled my mask down and signaled for Jada to do the same, hoping the others had picked up on Cissy's escalation and had donned their "space suits."

I was just about to step out of the woods when a sudden flash of light halted my steps. Cissy stopped yelling, standing motionless in the center of the clearing staring up at the dark sky instead.