Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 02 - Apple Pots and Funeral Plots (2 page)

My hand quickly dialed Justin’s number because I needed him and his computer expertise.
I wouldn’t have brought down the clowns without him.
He answered on the first ring, “Hello, Teach.”

“Hi,
Justin
.
How’s your summer going?”

“Lousy.
I hate being out of school and away from the school’s high-speed Internet connection.”

“Well, they’re having summer school at your high school.
I’m sure I could make a call and see if they could let you have some time in the computer lab.”

“That would be great, Teach.”

“As long as you stay away from hacking into places you’re not welcome.”

He laughed.
“They’d never figure out it was me, Teach.
You know that.”

I laughed with him.
“Justin, there are things that I just don’t want to know about.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.”

“Perfect.”

“So, why’d you call?
Are you going out of town and need me to watch that yappy dog of yours?”

“No, but I am going out of town.”

“Another case?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh, that’s great.
What are we investigating this time?
Another kidnapped child?
Another clown cult?”

“I don’t really know yet.
I haven’t been able to find much on the Internet about the event.”

“How many hours did you waste before calling me?”

“Never mind about that.”

“Give me the information and I’ll see what’s out there.”

I told him about Danielle Slammers and her death.

He let out a deep breath.
“Wow, a murder this time.
That seems a little risky.”

“More than mind-controlling, drug pushing, kidnapping and murdering clowns?”

“I don’t know.
Maybe not.
This might be a simple mugging.”

“It could be, but I’m going to look into it anyway and see what I can find out.”

“That’s what you do best, Teach.”

“Thanks.
And Tom’s going to make a few phone calls, too.”

“The sheriff’s going to help?
That’s a surprise.
I thought he was against your doing any investigating on your own.”

“There are some things that even the great Sheriff Tom Owens can’t control.”

“That would be you, Teach.”

“He has a new name for you and I think you’re going to like it.”

Justin let out a huge sigh.
“What is it?”

“Super Cyber Sidekick.”

“You’re right,” he said, his voice perking up.
“I do like it.
And I like that the man recognizes my talent.
It makes me an official part of your investigations.”

“You were that without the title, Justin.”

“I know, but I still like the title.
Maybe I’ll have a t-shirt made with it or add it next to the racing stripes on the side of my wheelchair.”

“What ever you decide, I’ll pay for it.”

“Then I’m definitely having it airbrushed onto my chair.”

“You have it done, I’ll pay the bill.”

“Thanks, Teach.”

“No, thank you.
The information you get me is invaluable.
I couldn’t investigate anything without you.”
Silence.
Knowing Justin, he was probably blushing from the compliment.
I continued, “Give me a call when you get the information.
I’m going to head up to Clainsworth in an hour or so.
According to the maps on the Internet, it’s at least an eight hour drive.”

“You got it, Teach.
Take care and don’t forget to be careful.”

“I always am.”
I hung up the phone, pulled my feet from the coffee table, and went to pack.
Not knowing exactly what I’d need, I threw a variety of clothes into my suitcase, from jeans to a skirt.
Then I took a quick shower and put on a pair of black Capris and red short-sleeved top.
I stopped, checking my reflection in my closet mirror.
At barely five feet tall, the Capris looked more like long pants on me.
I’m always cold so that’s not a bad thing.
The shirt was a little tight across my chest, possibly due to my ancient clothes dryer that only dried clothes when it was set on the highest temperature or my chest - the only thing on my body that still seemed to be growing.
I pulled off the shirt; tossed it into the Goodwill bag I kept in my closet and found another in a larger size.

Then I went in search of my gun.
I was smart enough to know that investigating a murder was dangerous and the gun might just come in handy, again, this time.

Chapter 2

An hour later I was driving my 1962 red VW bug toward Clainsworth, Oregon.
My dog, Shelby,
rode
shotgun, and our bags were packed for another adventure.
First, we stopped at the local market and picked up the essentials for any outing: Diet Coke, Peanut M&M’s, black licorice, and bacon treats for
Shelby
.

As I
put
the food into my car, my cell phone rang.
I glanced over at it and smiled.
Tom.
He was probably calling me with information.
Of course, he didn’t know that I was already on my way to Clainsworth.
He might not like that.

“Hello.” I said, as I leaned against the car door and braced myself for Tom’s aggravation at me for leaving without telling him.
He is a bit controlling; I guess it’s the cop in him.
But I’m a teacher – I like to be in control, too.

“Hi, honey.
I’ve got that info for you.”

“Thanks.”

“I talked to an Officer Farrell, and he read me everything that was in the report.”

“Great.
Tell me what he said.”

“Danielle Slammers was thirty-two years old and a kindergarten teacher for ten years.
She was stabbed twice with a knife and died as a result of the wounds.
The maid discovered her body in the afternoon.
The Medical Examiner didn’t find anything unusual at her autopsy, except the two knife wounds.
Her body was sent back to Centerville, Oregon, for a memorial service, then to Minnesota, where she was buried in her family’s funeral plot.”

“Any suspects?”

“No, the local police think it was a vagrant looking for cash.
She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Any fingerprints at the scene?”

He laughed.
“You’ve been watching too much ‘CSI’ again, honey.
The hotel room had about a hundred sets of prints.
Some were matched to the housekeeping staff, but nothing came of the rest.
With that large of a sample, they have to wait until they have a suspect and then match them to the prints found at the scene.
Unfortunately, there never was a suspect.”

“It doesn’t sound like the local cops did a very thorough job of investigating her death.”

“They did what they could.
There wasn’t much to go on.”

“Did it say why she was in Clainsworth?”

I heard Tom flipping through his little notepad where he always took notes on his investigations.
“Nope.
There’s nothing in the report about that.”

“That’s strange and a good place for me to start nosing around about.”

“Good idea.
By the way, when are you leaving?”
Tom asked, “And are you going to Clainsworth or
Centerville
first?”

Since I was already on the road, that was an easy question to answer.
“I’ll go to Clainsworth first and see what I can find out.”

He cleared his throat.
“You missed a question, honey.”

“You are so clever, Sheriff Tom.”

“That means you’ve already left, haven’t you?”
A hint of irritation crept into his voice.

“Well, yes.”

“I wish you had called me to let me know that you were leaving.
Did you take your gun?”

I ignored the first comment and said, “Of course.”

“Even though I got you a license to carry it, you might want to let the local police know you have it and why you’re in town.”

“Do I have to?”

“No, not really.
You’re a private citizen, but since you’re going to be asking questions about a murder, it would be nice to let them know.”

“Yeah, but last time the clowns owned the cops.”

“That doesn’t happen in every town, honey.
Most police departments are not owned by the local bad guys.”

“Are you taking a stand for all the police officers in the world?”

“I might be.”

“Okay.
If the opportunity arrives, I’ll let them know about the gun and why I’m in town.”

“Good.
And could you try and keep me informed, too?
Last time, I spent hours worrying and pacing the floor between your calls from the psycho clown camp.”

“I will when I can, love.”
I added that last part to throw him off.
It worked.

“Did you just call me…” he stuttered.

I interrupted him.
“Talk to you soon, Tom.
Good bye.”

I hung up the phone and smiled.
I loved getting in the last word.
I hadn’t called him “love” since the night I was high on the clown’s drugs, called him, and made rather lewd suggestions.
He ordered me to drink several pots of coffee, which I did since the drugs were also for mind control.
I haven’t called him “love” since.
But it was time, and I certainly felt strongly about him.
Thoughts of him always made my heart skip several beats and being with him made me feel more complete than when I was alone.
Besides, it shut him up, didn’t it?

My phone rang again.
Before answering it, I checked the display.
I wasn’t ready to have another conversation with Tom.
But it was Justin.

“Hello.”

“Hi, Teach.
How’s the drive going?”

I glanced around at the wide-open road.
“Uneventful, so far.”

“I did some research for you.”

“Great.
What did you find out?”

“You already know that Ms. Slammers was a teacher, but she was also a Math Mentor for her district.
In fact, she presented math classes for other districts and at a yearly math conference in
Monterey
.”

“I went to that conference a couple of times.
It was really good.
I probably saw her, but just can’t remember.
It’s three days and about ten sessions a day.”

“I also looked up the town of
Clainsworth
.”

“What did you find?”

“There isn’t much, except that the town hosts a yearly eating contest at the end of June.
This week, in fact.”

“An eating contest?”

“Yeah.
Their specialty is something called ‘apple pots.’
The guy that holds the record ate forty in one minute.”

“Yuck.”

“Yeah, and messy, too.
There’s a picture of him on the town’s website.
It’s gross!”

“Anything else?”

“I put a small article from the Clainsworth Record on your desktop.
It has some information, but not much.”

“I couldn’t find any local paper for Clainsworth.”

“You just don’t have my skills, Teach.”

“Were there any follow-up articles?”
I asked, hoping for more information than the little I knew so far.

“Nope, just the one.”

“Thanks, Justin.”

“No problem, Teach.
I love being your Super Cyber Sidekick.
Talk to you soon.”

I closed my phone, shook my head and chuckled.
I didn’t see myself as any kind of superhero.
But I sure appreciated Justin’s help.
He’s probably some kind of computer hacker but we never talk about how he gets me the information I need.
During the clown episode, his computer expertise was very useful.
Everything on their website was password protected, but Justin was able to get me information that helped bring down their organization.
When I got home from Clown Camp, he’d said that helping me made him feel like he was “standing up against the bad guys.”

As I drove I thought about Danielle.
Why had she gone to Clainsworth?
It would have been too early for the eating contest.
Her family was from
Minnesota
, I supposed because that’s where she was buried.
There was a memorial service for her colleagues, students and friends where she taught.
The school district also posted a memorial plaque on an outside wall of the district office for Danielle.
It seemed they did that for all of the employees when they died.
But then her body was shipped to
St. Paul
,
Minnesota
.

Shelby
barked at a herd of cows on the side of the road and I laughed.
I don’t think she’s ever seen a cow before.
She probably thinks they’re just big black dogs.
And she loves to play with other dogs.
Shelby tried to leap toward the window but was held tight by her harness, a good investment after the first car ride with her.
She went nuts and almost jumped out the window to chase a bicycle.
I think she was run over by something with wheels in a past life because she always goes crazy around them.

I glanced at my watch.
It was close to eleven-thirty.
That made sense.
My stomach gro
wled
.
I have lunch around eleven-thirty every day during the school year and my stomach is well trained.
After a quick drive through Wendy’s, Shelby and I
munched
on French fries.
It quieted both of us.

As I sat in the parking lot eating my lunch, I checked the file Justin sent me.
According to the small newspaper article, Danielle’s wallet, credit cards and about two hundred dollars in cash were still in her purse at the inn.
Wouldn’t a vagrant have taken those?
The local cops’ theory didn’t sound plausible to me.

The saddest part was that when the maid discovered the body, Danielle’s beagle was lying next to her with its head on her chest.
The dog growled and would not let the maid anywhere near the body.
Eventually, animal control was called and they were forced to lasso the dog and pull it away from Danielle.
Whatever happened to that dog?

Why weren’t there any other articles or information about Danielle’s death in either the Clainsworth or
Centerville
newspapers?
Did no one really care?
It seemed that Danielle’s death had barely caused even a small ripple in the world.
I
would
change that.
At least I could find out what happened in that inn.
Maybe bring a little closure to Danielle’s family and friends.
And even some justice for Danielle.

Around five-thirty we were near Clainsworth.
I knew it even before I saw the city limit sign.
Huge banners hung from telephone poles starting ten miles out of town, all advertising the “Apple Pot Festival.”
I still didn’t understand what an apple pot was but figured I’d be an expert soon.

My last adventure began with a Spring Festival and it ended well.
I took this as a good omen.

That’s when I heard the explosion.

My car tumbled off the road, my head snapped forward and hit the steering wheel.

I blacked out.