Carbs & Cadavers (20 page)

“No, no,” Sheriff Huckabee replied in a placating tone, never taking his eyes off of Darryl. “We’ve got a girl missin’ and we need to know if your assistant has any information for us on her whereabouts.”

For the moment, the man named Tom, who James assumed was Darryl’s boss, seemed satisfied with the sheriff’s answer.

“What girl? What are you talking about?” Darryl asked angrily.

“Now calm down,” Donovan shushed him in his patronizing tone. “You act up one mite and I
will
drag your sorry ass downtown.”

James thought Donovan sounded like a complete hack, like some TV cop from a B movie reciting his lines in front of the mirror. Donovan was such an unbelievably dislikable person that James wished he could think of something to say to take him down a notch or two, but he felt it was best to remain mutely in the background.

“When was the last time you saw Amelia Flowers?” Huckabee asked.

Darryl’s eyes flew open. “Saturday night. We worked Miller’s Haunted Hayride. Why? What’s going on? What’s happening?” His voice echoed shrilly throughout the garage.

“This is the last time I’m warning you to calm down,
son
,” Donovan threatened. Tapping on his gun holster, he continued. “Seems she’s gone missin’. You were the last person anyone can recall seeing her with that night. You got anything you wanna tell us?”

There was a long pause. Darryl shook his head, confused and worried. “Look, we hung out for a bit after the last group went through the ride, but then we split up. She said she was catching a ride with one of her friends and that’s it. I split and went home.”

“What time was that?” Huckabee asked.

“Like, eleven, I guess.” Darryl held out his hands helplessly. “I’m not sure exactly.”

“How late do you usually stay out with Miss Flowers?” Donovan continued the grilling.

“Never past midnight. She’s got to get up pretty early to go to work.”

Donovan scribbled some notes in his pad. “Her mama’s down at the station. She’s pretty upset. There anything you’d care to say that could make that woman feel better?” Donovan barreled on without waiting for a reply. “What
exactl
y were you two
doin’
after the hayrides were over?”

Darryl fidgeted with the zipper on his jacket. “We were messin’ around a bit, you know. She’s my girlfriend.”

“No,” Donovan answered meanly. “Why don’t you elaborate for us?”

“Kissin’ and stuff,” Darryl said defensively. “We’re both adults. It’s no crime!”

Donovan shrugged. “Maybe things got a little rough, huh? Maybe Amelia didn’t want to
mess around
anymore but
you
did. Did you get mad at her over somethin’ like that, Darryl?”

Without warning, Darryl lunged at Donovan. The two men grappled with one another until Sheriff Huckabee intervened. He shoved Darryl into the back of his car and pulled Donovan aside to dress him down. James couldn’t hear their conversation, but he could tell from Donovan’s sagging shoulders that he was not being complimented by his superior.

“That was provoked!” Darryl’s boss yelled. “I’m a witness! Where you takin’ that boy?”

“Relax, Tom.” Huckabee stroked his lush, walrus-like mustache. “I’m just going to bring him down to get his statement. After he signs it, we’ll bring him right back.” The sheriff got in his car and drove off. Tom went inside the Food Mart, cursing under his breath.

Donovan ran a hand through his hair, which was a fiery red beneath the November sunlight, and swung around. He practically spat at James, his voice a vehement hiss. “Don’t you have some library cards to stamp,
Professor?
”

James waited until the second brown car had pulled out of the lot before carefully backing the Bronco out of the garage bay. He broke at least four traffic laws driving to the library, but he figured that every member of the Sheriff’s Department was busy with something much more significant—the disappearance of Amelia Flowers.

“You’ve got mail!” James’s computer announced as he raced to check his e-mail upon returning from his dramatic lunch break. Lucy had written the supper club group about the morning’s events at the Sheriff’s Department.

Dear F. F.s,

I feel terrible! I think that when James and I questioned Amelia, we triggered a horrible event. Megan Flowers came to the station this morning to report that her daughter never returned home from a weekend trip to a friend’s lake house. When she called to speak to the friend, she was told that Amelia was never expected at their house at all!

Megan brought in a note that Amelia left under the van’s windshield wiper telling her that she’d gone home with her friend Cyndi and would be heading up to Cyndi’s lake house to stay over Sunday night. With the bakery being closed on Monday, Megan had no objection, even though she thought it was weird that Amelia left the note on the van instead of in the house or inside the Sweet Tooth where Megan would have found it Sunday morning. Now that Megan’s had time to really examine the note, she also believes it may not even be Amelia’s handwriting!

Do you all realize what this means? Brinkley’s killer and the person who ran Whitney down MUST have seen Amelia talking to me and James. Now, that person has taken her, maybe even killed her, too! We have got to have an emergency meeting today to figure out what we can do. I hope you all found out what you could about that poodle mask—that’s our only hope of finding out who’s responsible for bringing all of this violence to Quincy’s Gap.

I’ve got to go. Murphy Alistair is here and is demanding to know what’s going on with Amelia. Apparently, they’ve brought in Darryl Jeffries for questioning.

James, can we come to the library after work? This is serious and it’s gone way beyond me trying to play deputy. We’ve got to put our heads together and help this young woman.

Yours,
A Worried Lucy

James immediately wrote back to his four friends that they should come to the library as soon as they were able and that they would shut themselves in the meeting room and figure out what to do next. He then summarized his conversation with Darryl and explained that he didn’t think the young man was capable of murder, but that was just a feeling. James knew that he would need to repeat the entire exchange in order to get his friends’ point of view.

A few minutes before four, James told the twins to mind the fort and slipped out to the Quickie Mart to buy some kind of snack for the meeting. Truth be told, he was too restless to spend another second in the serene atmosphere of the library. He desperately needed fresh air, some loud music, and an errand to take his mind off of Amelia Flowers and her unknown fate.

As he pulled into a parking space, he noticed a beige Jeep parked a few spots over. It looked remarkably like Lucy’s. Walking behind the other cars, James could see that someone was sitting in the driver’s seat, but he wasn’t certain if it was Lucy. All he could really see was a fuzzy pink hat with a matching scarf and a pair of shoulders covered by a black overcoat.

Slinking off to the side so that the driver wouldn’t see him in the rearview mirror, James tried to get a closer look by pretending to duck down and tie his shoe. As he stood back up, slowly as if he had a hurt back, he could see through the rear window on the passenger side that it was Lucy. Even if he hadn’t seen the profile of her smooth cheek, James could have identified Lucy’s car by the piles of trash scattered about the back seat and floor. Just as he was about to rap on the window, James saw Lucy raise a spoon to her mouth and, having taken a large bite, sink back into her seat as if relaxing for the first time in ages.

James craned his neck forward in order to catch a glimpse of the indulgence that was giving Lucy such obvious pleasure. When her plastic spoon was licked clean, she dipped it back into a small, cylindrical container. Loading the spoon up with a creamy, vanilla-colored substance, she returned the utensil to her mouth. James backed away from the car as if he had just caught one of his former students doing lines of cocaine. Skirting around the cars between Lucy’s Jeep and his Bronco, he sat back inside his truck until Lucy finally pulled away.

James hurriedly went into the Quickie Mart and chose a snack for his friends. On the way out, he walked down the last aisle containing the baking products to double-check the identity of the container he saw in Lucy’s hand. It was as he feared—Lucy had been pigging out on a can of vanilla buttercream frosting.

“I’m guilty!” Gillian
wailed before the other four supper club members even had a chance to settle into the chairs in the library’s only meeting room. Gillian turned to Lindy with moist eyes, and, seeing her friend’s expression of befuddlement, pulled an orange candy bar wrapper from her cavernous purse and slapped it on the table.

“I have committed a food crime. I had two peanut butter cups today. I
had
to have them!” She exhaled audibly. “I called every single pet specialty shop in Virginia that might sell poodle masks. I finally got a hit from Pampered Pooches in Richmond, but they wouldn’t reveal their customer list, no matter how much I begged. We’re going to have to tell all we know to the sheriff if we really want to do Amelia any good. Are we at a dead end?”

“I’m a food loser, too,” Bennett moaned. “Gillian called to ask me if I remembered delivering a box with a return label from Pampered Pooches. The crazy thing is, I
do
remember the label ’cause it had these little paw prints all over it. I just don’t remember
where
I delivered it. Gillian and I cross-referenced her clients with my mail route and no one fits. I’ve been thinking about that poor girl ever since I read Lucy’s e-mail on my Palm Pilot during my coffee break. Man, I drove right to the store and bought myself some donut holes.” He looked down at the table. “I’ve still got the empty box hidden beneath my seat.”

Lindy put her hands out in front of her, wrists touching as if she were preparing to be handcuffed. “You got another cheater, here. I ate the most scrumptious chocolate-caramel candy bar I’ve ever tasted today. Delicioso! And to add to that, I had a lollipop on the way over here.” She stuck out a bright purple tongue. “Grape Tootsie Pop.”

“It takes an average of 252 licks to get to the center according to a study done by Purdue University,” Bennett said as he watched flashes of purple from inside Lindy’s mouth as she spoke.

“Thanks, but I bite mine. No time for 252 licks.” Lindy allowed her long hair to fall in front of her face and peered out through the shiny curtain. “What could we do to help Amelia at this point? We can’t even control ourselves from eating junk food?”

“We
can
do something!” Lucy ran a pair of agitated hands over her hair. “First thing is to call Whitney and make that girl tell us who else was at her house with her and Amelia. She’ll have to tell us once she knows Amelia’s gone missing.” She turned an angry gaze upon Gillian. “And we
can’t
tell the sheriff now. Do you know how much trouble we’d all be in for meddling and then not sharing our information? I’d probably be fired!”

“Let’s think this over calmly.” James stood up and spoke with an assuring, authoritative tone. “Arguing with one another will get us, and Amelia, nowhere. It’s been a hard day all around.” He pointed to the grains of orange dust gathered around the beds of his fingernails. “It took three snack bags to keep me from completely freaking out. We’ll all get back on track on our diet once this . . . these horrible events are over with. So we’re at a dead end with the mask, for now. I’ll tell you about my conversation with Darryl and then we’ll make a new plan of action, okay?”

His friends nodded miserably. James returned to his seat and reviewed his meeting with Darryl from beginning to end, leaving out no detail.

“Sounds like a regular kid,” Bennett observed.

“And it seems like he cares about Amelia
and
that he didn’t know about the blackmail,” Lindy added.

“That takes away his motive for killing Brinkley, if he really was genuine. Was he
really
sincere, James, or do you think he was working you over?” Gillian asked.

“I can’t be sure as I don’t know Darryl from Adam, but I think he’s a decent sort,” James answered. “He was both surprised and very upset when he heard about Amelia being missing. I swear he didn’t have time to put on an act about that. You could have knocked him off his feet with a feather when the sheriff told him that he was the last one to be seen with Amelia.”

“They’ve still got him at the station,” Lucy sighed mournfully. “They’ve been questioning him for hours and his story hasn’t changed at all, from the gossip I’ve picked up from Glenn and Luke. You can tell Donovan
wants
it to be Darryl. After all, they dragged in Whitney first and now they’ve got Darryl. Sounds like, if what James says is true, they’ve got the wrong man
again
.”

“I doubt Darryl owns a poodle mask,” Gillian said flippantly and then grew anxious again. “It also means that we need to act quickly, because Amelia has been taken somewhere by the
real
killer.”

“Caroline Livingstone called the sheriff this morning and told him about the mask,” Lucy said tersely. “They’ll be able to conduct a thorough search of Darryl’s house, but you’re right, Gillian, I think someone else wore that mask.”

“If I could just remember
where
I brought that package, we’d have our answer.” Bennett tugged roughly on his mustache. “Why is it I can recite the capital of every country in the world, but I can’t recall where I delivered that box?”

Lindy grabbed Bennett’s hand. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You deliver pounds of mail every day and that package went through weeks ago.” She looked around at her friends. “We might not be succeeding in helping at the moment, but let’s remember that there is an evil person out there doing these terrible things, not one of us. James, you saved Whitney’s life already and we have a chance to save Amelia’s as well. Let’s not give up hope. That girl needs us to be strong and clear headed.”

“You’re right, Lindy. I’ll start by calling Whitney.” Lucy jumped up. “Can I use the phone in your office, James?”

“Of course.” When Lucy left the room the others fell silent, lost in thought. “I don’t suppose anyone would care for some low-carb ice cream?” James asked hesitantly. “I’ve got a few different flavors.”

“Why not?” Gillian muttered. “My regular comfort food didn’t work, so let’s try something I’m
supposed
to be eating.”

By the time James returned bearing Styrofoam bowls, plastic spoons, and three pints of ice cream, Lucy was off the phone.

“Too late.” Her shoulders slumped. “The sheriff called her down to the station to make a statement about the mask and anything else she remembered. Beau said that Caroline was going to make sure that Whitney came clean on
everything
she knows. Beau promised that she wouldn’t be mentioning telling James and I first. Thank goodness for that! I don’t really want to end up flipping burgers at Hardees.”

“So the sheriff will finally hear about the blackmail angle,” Lindy mused, twirling her spoon around inside her cheek. “Does this mean we’re out of the picture?”

Bennett said, “I can’t think of anything that we can do to help.”

“Me either,” James admitted. He looked at Lucy. She sat, spooning ice cream absently into her mouth, her eyes staring straight ahead with an unfocused glaze. Watching her lick her spoon made him think of how she had been eating frosting in a similar manner earlier that day. Why hadn’t she shared her indiscretion when everyone else had confessed about their minor falls from grace? Were there other little secrets that she was keeping to herself?

Gillian stood. “I guess there’s not much else to talk about right now. Lucy, please let us know if anything new comes up on Amelia. I’ve got to get home and pay the painters.”

“I’ve got a bunch of short essays on postmodernist art to correct,” Lindy whined, gathering her belongings.

One by one, the supper club members slunk out of the library, solemn and dejected. James watched them go. Lucy hadn’t lingered for a moment and she had barely glanced at him as she walked away alongside Bennett. James felt hurt. He knew that she felt responsible for Amelia’s disappearance, but he didn’t see why she had to ignore him as a response.

“I guess it’s because I helped question Amelia,” James mumbled to a pile of books sitting on top of the circulation desk. “Lucy blames me as well as herself.”

Mrs. Waxman waved to him and headed over to the children’s section where a toddler was busy pulling all of the Dr. Seuss books off the shelf with great giggles of pleasure. James turned away and began loading the reshelving cart with the strays he had collected from the reading tables.

“Excuse me?” A female voice behind his left shoulder made him turn quickly around.

It was Allison Shilling, looking as cheerless as she had at Saturday’s festival. “Hello, Allison. Nice to see you again.” James mustered a smile for the dispirited young woman.

Her face remained blank as she pulled out a library card from a tiny pink suede purse. “I’m supposed to pick up some books for my
mother
.” She said the last word as if she were chewing on her least favorite vegetable. “She said they’re on hold.”

“Sure thing.” James grabbed a bundle of books marked “Shilling” that were held together by a rubber band and took the card from Allison’s limp hand. He noticed that she was not wearing her engagement ring. He also noticed that every book Mrs. Rachel Shilling had ordered from neighboring branches was a wedding resource book.

“
Someone
is excited about throwing you a wedding,” James said, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah,
someone
is.” Allison took the books and added a soft “thanks” before walking off.

James decided to quickly empty the book drop in front of the library before heading home. Brandishing the small key that opened the book bin, which was actually a full-sized blue mailbox painted green with the words “Books Only! No Trash or Mail” stenciled in white block letters, James opened the back of the box and paused curiously.

Allison Shilling was backing out of her parking spot and the noise coming from her car was slightly unusual. Nothing was wrong with the old Mercedes, but it was a diesel model and not many people drove diesels anymore. James was struck by a thought. What if the strange car noise Whitney heard was a diesel engine? As the car pulled out of the lot, James continued to stare after it. Allison was the same age as Whitney and Amelia. He suddenly remembered Lindy saying that Allison and Whitney were good friends during their senior year of high school.

“It was you!” James pointed an accusing finger at the receding car. “
You
were the other person at Whitney’s house, I’d bet a case of cheese puffs on it.”

James drove straight to Lucy’s home and came to such an abrupt halt on her gravel driveway that little beige pebbles flew violently in all directions onto her overgrown grass. Trotting up her walkway, his stomach bouncing with every step, James was almost at her door when Lucy’s three German shepherds came racing around from the backyard, teeth bared and barking wildly as if they had just spotted their next meal.

Terrified, James jerked open the screen door and used it as a shield as he pounded desperately on the wooden front door. Lucy jerked it open and he practically fell inside, the dogs nipping at his heels. Lucy pushed their noses back outside using her foot and told them to hush up. She was holding a phone up to her ear and winced as she tried to concentrate on what the person on the other end was saying above the braying of her dogs. Finally, she managed to close the door. She motioned for James to follow her into the kitchen where they both sat down at her kitchen table, which was covered with junk mail, plastic grocery store bags, and paper napkins.