If Fried Chicken Could Fly (15 page)

“Hang on, Jake. Jerome’s trying to figure it out.”

“Betts, you know I love you and you know I believe every word you say because I love you, but telling me that a ghost—one I’m not privileged to see—is trying to help is not easing my stress.”

“I know. Just a second,” I said to Jake. “Jerome, what are you thinking?”

“The shots are coming from up high, maybe on the roof to the south. Run the other direction you came from and then hurry out to the front of the buildings. Once you start, run your as…run really fast. I’m going to see if I can spot who’s pulling the trigger. Ready?”

“Can’t you just pop up there?”

“I’m going to try, but I’m not sure exactly where they are. I can’t do anything to them anyway, and…We’re wasting time.”

“Hang on.” I told Jake what we needed to do. He agreed with the plan. “Okay, we’re ready, Jerome.”

“Wait. There might be another shot. As soon as that happens, get your bu …Run! Give it a second.”

True to his prediction, another shot rang through the air,
this bullet hitting the side of the shed we were using for protection.

“Go!” Jerome said.

Jake and I stood and scurried. Since the area between the back of the building and the storage sheds wasn’t big, I felt like a pinball that had just been propelled into the gauntlet with a weak spring mechanism; we couldn’t run fast enough to outrun speeding bullets, could we?

Another shot was fired, but I didn’t hear the resulting ping. Of course that could have been because I was screaming. Or was that Jake?

The distance from the spot behind the Jasper to the other end of the block was twice what we’d taken coming in the other direction, but it felt at least a hundred times farther.

Along with the bullets, we dodged two plastic buckets, someone’s old worn and discarded boots, and a huge wooden box that must have been used for ballots or raffle tickets—my shin got a corner of it, but Jake grabbed my arm before I could tumble to the ground.

Finally, we reached the spot where we could turn and get out in front of the buildings and into the street. Instead of stopping, though, we ran down the walkway, our footfalls rattling the planks and building windows. There were no other people out on the street. In two days, we would have run into hundreds of people, but currently Broken Rope resembled a ghost town more than a tourist town.

I pushed on the door of the jail with such vigor that it slammed open and rattled the handcuffs.

Jim and Cliff jumped up from their chairs and put their hands on their weapons. Mom, Dad, Teddy, Gram, and
Verna looked at us like we’d either lost our minds or they weren’t sure who we were.

“Betts, Jake, what’s up?” Jim asked.

“Someone was shooting at us,” I said.

Jim and Cliff moved quickly around chairs, people, and wastebaskets. They told us to close the door and stay in the office until they came back. We did as they commanded.

At first, no one said anything. It was as if my words hadn’t registered with them.

Finally, my brother, Teddy, spoke, “Hey, sis, did you notice Cliff’s back in town? Whoop, whoop.”

Yes, my brother, not a bad guy but a goofball of the highest extreme, actually put his hands up and pumped the air.

Much to Teddy’s dismay, no one laughed.

The truth was, I had forgotten about Cliff again. Well, maybe not all the way, but I’d certainly put him to the back of my mind.

Gram’s getting officially arrested and my having conversations with a ghost and getting shot at had moved Cliff way down my priority list.

That didn’t stop me, however, from being impressed with his police officer skills. Even though he and Jim couldn’t find the shooter, they found evidence of the shoot-out in the form of expended bullets. Without my help or Jerome’s, they estimated that whoever was shooting at us was on top of one of the buildings to the south of the theater. That meant that someone was on top of the pool hall, the barber shop, or Broken Crumbs, or perhaps had traveled down the entire row.

The only person they could immediately find to question
was Miles, who, they said, told them we stopped by the pool hall. If he told them what he shared with us about Gram and Everett and their secret papers, Jim and Cliff didn’t let on.

Miles had heard something, but he had been in his basement and the shots had been muffled. He thought someone was practicing a fake gunfight somewhere. Even though it’s Broken Rope law that all rehearsals that include gunfire are to be posted on the board outside the jail, he thought he’d missed a post. The shots had been background noise to him.

Jim and Cliff also said they’d talked to Mabel and Amy who said they hadn’t heard anything at all. But there was something about the way Jim and Cliff acted when they spoke about Mabel and her granddaughter. Something bothered them, I could tell, but they certainly weren’t going to tell me what it was.

I had a brief moment where I thought I should tell them what Jake and I had seen through the window but thought better of it because I truly didn’t know what had been going on, and I didn’t want to make something of nothing. If they thought something was wrong, I trusted that they’d investigate it fully.

There were no other witnesses to be found. Jenna wasn’t in the saloon, and even though Stuart had been working in his shop, it was located on the other side of the theater, and like Mabel and Amy he claimed not to have heard anything at all.

Fortunately, the only injury sustained by either of us was the bloody gash on my leg. Everyone concluded that I didn’t need stitches, but the sooner I could get it cleaned out and bandaged, the better. I cleaned it in the bathroom, but I
wasn’t leaving the jail until I had a few moments to talk to Gram alone.

My goal wasn’t easily achieved. Jim and Cliff did work there, so I tried to cut them some slack for hanging around in my way. Verna left shortly after the shoot-out but not before again commanding Gram not to talk to anyone without her attorney present. Teddy thought the whole day might end up ranking as one of his top ten because of the numerous adventures, including the one where his grandmother had been arrested for murder. I wasn’t sure if he’d ever grasp the seriousness of the situation. He tried to console me by telling me to look at the positive side, which he claimed was that everything would work out. Gram would be found innocent because she couldn’t possibly kill anyone. And he mentioned quietly so only I could hear that Gram’s time away would give me a chance to take a leadership role at the school.

“Teddy, I don’t want a leadership role. I love working for Gram,” I told him.

“Shoot, a person can always build their leadership skills. Hey, did you know Cliff was back in town? I mean, before you were shot at and barreled into the jail?” Teddy leaned back in his chair and smiled the smile that frequently got him in too much trouble.

I refused to talk to him further and he left when he thought the excitement had come to an end.

Thankfully, my parents both had to get to work. High school students don’t care much about family emergencies even if they are about murder. They couldn’t do much for Gram as she sat in jail.

I was able to convince Jake to leave after he gave a full statement to Jim and Cliff. I told him we’d meet later.

I wished Jerome were around, but he’d already told me he couldn’t make his ghostly way into the jail. I didn’t know how to call him or ask him to appear, but I thought that might be a useful skill to learn.

As Jim worked on his computer, I sat on the outside of the cell and leaned in toward Gram.

“Gram, I don’t think we have time to discuss the disruptive nature of learning that ghosts are not only real, but now I’m able to communicate with one, so I’m just going to ignore that and ask you more important things. I need you to trust me and talk to me. No more elusiveness, okay?”

Gram paused a moment but finally said, “Okay, Betts, what’s on your mind?” She scooted forward on the lower bunk. Except for Teddy, she was the one most taking her arrest in stride. She knew she was innocent and that even if there wasn’t a good explanation why her fingerprints were on the bag, she believed Verna would come up with one.

I looked at Jim to make sure he wasn’t listening. He didn’t seem to be, but he was probably well practiced at looking like he wasn’t listening. I kept my voice low.

“What’s the best way to get hold of Jerome? Can I call out to him or twitch my nose or something?”

Gram laughed. “Oh, Betts, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Okay,” I said with exaggerated patience. “Help me understand that part better.”

“Jerome is around. Sometimes he can communicate, sometimes he can’t. It’s like he’s a blip in the system.”

“A blip?”

Gram’s mouth pinched briefly before she spoke. “Dead people are supposed to be dead, Betts.”

“I’m in agreement on that one, Gram.”

“But there’s something about this place, something about Broken Rope that keeps its citizens around sometimes, especially those who did something special or outrageous. And we’ve got plenty of those characters, let me tell you.”

“This is about Broken Rope? Are you telling me that you see, communicate with, talk to, more ghosts than just Jerome?” Again, I wondered if I really wanted to hear the answer.

“That’s not what’s important right now. What you need to understand is that Jerome, as much of a ghost as he is, is just a piece of him, something left over from his life. Something left over from the impact of his life here in Broken Rope. We’ve always known we are part of a different community, a strange one at that. We’ve had so many odd things happen that odd has become the norm. Ghosts—but let’s just talk about Jerome specifically—shouldn’t be too much of a surprise. There’s something here, something that holds on to our past, some of our people, but that something isn’t strong enough to hold on to the whole taco platter plus the guacamole, so to speak. If I understand it correctly, and I’ve had a lot of time to ponder it, Jerome’s ghost is bits and pieces of energy, energy that is fairly random, although my connection to him has been happening for so long that I can, in a way, bring that energy to me. You won’t be able to, not yet, but maybe someday.”

“If you get a chance to rattle his energy, would you please let him know I’d like to spend a good amount of time talking to him,” I said.

“Sure, but he won’t be able to come to me in here. Don’t know why, but this place is off-limits to him.”

“He mentioned that.”

“Oh, good, you’ve spoken to him some more.”

I sighed. “Tell me more about Everett.”

“Like what?”

I could see the wall build in her wary eyes. She was more willing to talk about ghost energy than the other dead person.

“You hung out with him quite a bit apparently.”

“What does that matter, Betts?”

“He was married, Gram.”

“Oh, pshaw, Betts. You’re assuming our relationship was more than a friendship.”

“That’s because that’s what you made me assume. You made lots of people assume that. I would love to know if it was different.”

Gram eyed Jim. “I’m not supposed to talk about it without Verna present.”

“And that’s good advice. But she didn’t mean you shouldn’t talk to me. You can talk about it with me, Gram, all you want, or are willing to.” In truth, Verna had meant that Gram shouldn’t talk to me either, but I was desperate enough to lie.

“Okay. This is what you need to know, Betts. Everett and I were friends, just friends. I knew he was married. I hadn’t met his wife, but I hoped to someday. I overheard Jim and Cliff talk about her timing. She came to Broken Rope last night because she found my business card on his nightstand and wanted to know what was going on with her husband. Even though I knew Everett was married, what I overheard gave me the impression that his wife didn’t know why he was away from home so much ‘working.’ ”

“Do they think she could have killed him?”

Gram shook her head. “She has a pretty strong alibi apparently.”

“What were the papers you and he looked at when you ate at the pool hall?”

Gram’s eyes opened wide. “How did you…? Oh, Miles.”

“Yes, Miles, but he didn’t know what the papers were about. What were you looking at?”

“I’m not telling you that, Betts. No way, no how.”

“Why not?”

“None of your business.”

“Were you searching for the treasure that Jerome allegedly hid?”

“How do you know about the treasure?”

“Gram, you’re in jail for murder. Of course, I’m going to try to figure out who the real killer is, but you have to help me. Or Jerome has to help me. I need to know what was going on. It was an assumption because of some things Jake and I found, one of them being a gold piece on Jerome’s tombstone.”

Gram’s eyes got big but she said, “Well, I’m not going to tell you what I know about the treasure, Betts.”

“Why not? Do you want it for yourself?”

“No! Give me more credit than that. I’m not greedy—you know that. Listen, Betts, this has nothing to do with any silly treasure stuff. Get over that right now.”

Jim shot us a look. I turned so my back was even more in his way.