Mr. Cooter's Bowling Ball

by Harper Harris

  On our way, we passed a public bulletin board and I noticed Cooter get a little agitated. It was easy to see since he was generally such an easy-going guy. He was obviously trying to get the officers to stop, but there was no way they would. He was a suspect in custody. He didn’t make the rules.

  “You should check them out!” he yelled.

  I could tell he was referring to something on the board, so I stopped walking and went back to try and see what Cooter was so annoyed at.

  “They’re the ones what killed Lonny,” he called out.

  They were almost out of my line of sight, but Cooter’s words shocked me. He hadn’t given me anything to work with and this felt like it could be my first real lead.

  I gave the bulletin board a good look and, sure enough, there was a Xerox with pictures of Lonny, Cooter, and some other rough and tumble looking characters who I didn’t immediately recognize. Each person had a circle with a line through it over their face like they’d been banned or something. The flyer said that the town needed ‘to clean up the pollution in Appleton.’

  I didn’t like the tone, calling people pollution, or that fact that these people included a friend of mine. The flyer was put up by The Society for the Preservation of Appleton’s Dignity or SPAD for short. I took one for my own files. There was a meeting tomorrow night of SPAD members. I began flirting with the idea of going.

  I got back to work and made up the hour I missed earlier. I had to rush around, if I was going to get to Red Rivers in time for obedience training. I had to change and eat and do too many things before we left. Ashley and the puppies were all sitting in the living room, waiting for me to finish. They were all taking everything in stride.

  “I’m almost ready, I promise.”

  “Don’t worry, we’re just relaxing while we wait, honey.”

  I couldn’t figure how they were all so calm. Maybe I was the overly frantic one and everyone else was at the right level of emotion.

  I got myself together and we finally were all able to pile into the car. I drove not like a madwoman, but close. We barely made it on time. I was out of breath, rushing into the class.

  “We made it!” I said, though no one seemed too impressed with me since they were all able to get there on time without too much trouble.

  The class started a few minutes after we got there.

  “So, the first question I’m going to ask is, how well do your dogs respond to their names? There isn’t much that can be done if these handsome guys don’t know who they are.”

  We all went around and let the main trainer know our individual dog’s status. Shortbread was pretty good at responding to both his full name and his nickname. In fact, anything that starts with the “sh” sound. It made it easy calling him inside or for dinner. But it was hard to shush him.

  Down the line, none of the owners said that their pets had trouble with names.

  “That’s great to hear! That means we can move on to another exercise. We’ll need to teach you guys socialization. These guys will need to be comfortable being around other people. It looks like everyone remembered to bring their leashes. Good. So, what we’ll do is get in a circle.”

  Everyone moved so we were all in a circle, as the teacher had requested. She had us pass our leashes around, so the dogs had to interact with each of the owners there. Biscotti was like a pro, going to each person without a bit of trouble. That was probably due to the fact that she had already started classes while she was living at Red Rivers. She had started before I bought her for Ashley and it looked like getting an early start was really helpful.

  Shortbread, on the other hand, was having a bit of trouble. He didn’t quite comprehend that he had to walk away from me. The first hand off was okay because Ash was next to me and she and Shortbread were great friends. But the next one wasn’t such a success.

  He clearly didn’t know what was going on and he tried to come back to me, but I kept shaking my head, which he knew meant no, but I could see his internal struggle between continuing to walk away from me or just doing what he wanted. He wasn’t the only dog that was having trouble, but he was by leaps and bounds the cutest. In my opinion.

  When he got about halfway, he realized that he was now getting closer to me since we were in a circle, and he got really excited. Once we were reunited, I knelt down and let him lick my face.

  “What a good boy! You did such a good job!”

  I rubbed his coat, but we weren’t allowed too much time for congratulations. We did that a few more times and Shortbread didn’t take too long to get the hang of the exercise. At the end of it, each dog got a treat and then we moved on to clickers. We spent most of the class training the dogs to respond positively to the clicker we’d be using for the rest of obedience school.

  “Okay! That’s all we have time for today! Next week, we’ll start doing commands, the first one being sit. I’d suggest using the clicker at home as well to further solidify your dog’s reactions. Positive reinforcement with snacks is always a good place to start. Thank you all for being here and I’ll see you next Tuesday!”

  I picked up Shortbread since I felt like he did such a good job. I wanted to give him a little treat for being such a good boy on his first day. It was pretty late since the class did take some time and driving back would take a while. I tried to convince Ash to do a little pit stop.

  “Ashley,” I said her name all singsong.

  “Yes, Kari?”

  “So, I was thinking that since it is so late and not only were Shortbread and Biscotti such good pups, but we were also good today. So, I think we deserve a treat and that treat should be fast food.”

  I was quite roundabout about getting the question out, but I also very much didn’t want her to say no.

  “You know how unhealthy fast food is,” she was smiling while she said it, but that was the main reason why we rarely ate it. That and the fact that Ash was the best home-cook I personally knew.

  Moving to Appleton, I wanted to be a little healthier. Late nights in law school often led to a lot of snacking. I was adamant on breaking the habit, but a little indulgence every now and then hurt no one. It helped that almost everything in town closed at nine p.m.

  “I do, but we haven’t had some in a while, so I feel like we’ve earned it. Everyone’s been putting in their hours, so we deserve a little something special.”

  I raised my eyebrows, giving Ashley my most convincing face. I could feel it working because she smiled even more.

  “Okay, I’ll allow it.”

  We stopped by a drive-thru that wasn’t too out of the way and I picked up some burgers and fries for each of us, my treat. The first bite had us groaning out of pure satisfaction.

  “Oh my god, grease is so delicious.”

  “But so bad for you. Why must it be so bad for you?” Ashley asked while stuffing her face with fries.

  We were eating pretty fast, but not fast enough, because the poor puppies were getting a little restless in the back. They had gotten a few treats, but it apparently wasn’t enough. It must have been the intoxicating smells coming from the food. They needed a little time to stretch their legs. Both of them spent most of the day indoors and, while class gave them a bit of a roam, they needed a bit freer reign to romp. So, I made a suggestion.

  “Why don’t we go to Cooter’s dump and poke around. It would give the dogs a chance to walk and get out their extra energy and maybe we’ll find something interesting like a clue and it’s on the way.”

  “Yeah, we can do that. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was an ominous warning or just Ashley reassuring herself it was just another night. I drove us over and, somehow, the dump seemed less lively. It was hard to put a word to it because I wouldn’t have characterized the dump as lively when Coot was there, but it felt like something was missing. It felt very much deserted.

  When we got out of the car, Shortbread led the way since he had been here a few times before. Biscotti gladl
y followed him. It looked they were really enjoying the abundant odors emanating from all the trash.

  We walked for a couple minutes. I was looking around, but I didn’t see anything pop out. Ashley could see me searching.

  “What are we looking for?” she asked.

  I wanted to give her a definitive answer, but I said in all honesty, “I don’t really know. I mean, we’re looking for something that might be beneficial to Coot’s case, but as to what that thing is, I can’t say.” I shrugged. “This is the kind of poking around that helped me prove your innocence. I don’t know if this approach will work in Cooter’s case. He’s such a strange guy and I’m sure he’s hiding something from me.”

  Truly, almost anything Cooter did could be construed as suspicious compared to the ‘mainstream’ of Appleton. Ashley was a beloved member of the community and following the clues concerning her were pretty easy to sift through because I just used what I knew about everyday human nature. But Cooter, he did things differently. What was normal to him could come across as odd to me and that would make figuring out what stuck out a lot more complicated.

  We walked over to the chalk outline where Lonny’s body used to be because, of course, the police removed it. However, I kept noticing these thick torn up pieces of paper that were postcard-like. I picked up a few of them and noticed a few tiny brown smudges. I held it so Ashley could see it.

  “Does this look like blood to you?”

  Ashley scrunched her nose. “Yeah,” she made a disgusted noise to go along with her agreement.

  I looked around for more of them, but it had been two whole days. There was a high chance they all blew away and were scattered way too far apart for me to find them. I looked at the ones I collected, and they seemed to be from the same postcard, but there were too few of them for me to be sure. I’d have to give this a lot more thought.

  Ash and I got the dogs, but they were very reluctant to leave. I was pretty sure they’d have chosen to live here if given the option. I loved my puppy a whole lot but I couldn’t live in a dump, even for him. There was a of things I’d do for love, but Meatloaf had a point about not doing that.

  Chapter Six

  Wednesday

  The next morning, I got Shortbread up and the two of us headed over to the Records Department. I needed to look into Lonny to see if there was anything was publicly recorded about him. The clerk on duty got me Zebulon’s criminal history and Shortbread and I took a seat.

  I looked through the file and saw that he was fifty-two and – like Cooter – he had a few drunk and disorderlies over the years. But, like Cooter, there was nothing salacious. I was beginning to think that this was about to be a dead-end, but then something really stuck out.

  Lonny was charged with vandalism a few years ago. I took out my notebook and flipped to the right page and… Cooter was charged with vandalism at the same exact time! Hoping to see if these files were complete, I was greatly disappointed when, in an angering coincidental similarity, all the salient documents were missing. Could this be why Cooter wouldn’t talk? Was he not just protecting his friend, but also himself? But why was this vandalism so shady? What exactly happened and how bad could it be?

  I didn’t have enough time to ask him today. I’d already let this investigation eat into my workday. I told Mr. Winston I wouldn’t let this get in the way of my work for the firm and I had to keep that promise. I had time I had to make up today. I took scans of Lonny’s record and then hurried over to work.

  I got to the office and had decided to work through lunch in order to make up the time I’d missed. I was looking through what I could have delivered when I heard someone knocking at my door. I looked up and saw Tammy.

  “Hi, Kari! I see you’re keeping busy.”

  “Just trying to do my best.”

  I wanted to be the best lawyer I could be. It was what had motivated me all through college and what continued to motivate me then.

  “Well, I hope you’re not working too hard because it’s lunch time and I thought we could go to the café?”

  I knew I needed to get all this work finished but I loved going to lunch with Tammy, so I said yes. I’d just have to make up the time at the end of the day.

  I got Shortbread out of his little bed and the three of us walked over to the café. We went straight to the counter and ordered what we wanted to eat.

  “Hi, Theodore.”

  “Kari, Tammy.” He had on his half-smile, the one that always made him look slightly amused. “How are things at work?”

  “Busy, but manageable.”

  “That’s good to hear. I’ll bring you guys your food when it’s ready.”

  On our way to our seats, Tammy and I said hi to everyone we recognized which was everyone in the café. I still found it weird seeing so many people I knew just out and about each day. Back in San Francisco, it would be such a weird occurrence to just run into someone. We’d laugh and then say, “what a weird coincidence”, but here it was just the usual every day.

  We sat down, and Shortbread curled up at my feet. He was a little tuckered out after being out late last night and then needing to get up early with me. It was beneficial for me because I was checking on him a little less since he was resting.

  I wanted to bring up what I found at the Records Department because I wanted to see if someone else had any ideas I hadn’t seen.

  “I’ve been working so hard on this Prescott case.”

  “I could tell. You’ve seemed a little flustered these past couple days.”

  “Maybe, there’s just so much to sift through. But, I was at the Records Department this morning looking at Zebulon’s rap sheet and I saw that he and Cooter had a similar vandalism charge from a few years back, but it was weirdly vague.”

  Weirdly vague and police records should never go together because those things were meant to be comprehensive. Since they were often used in courts, precincts were in charge of making sure what needed to be in there was actually there.

  “That’s weird, but could it have anything to do with that thing the mayor’s wife got caught up in a few years ago?”

  I had no idea what ‘thing’ Tammy was talking about. I had only been in Appleton a short time, so I wasn’t aware of the town’s secrets like the others and this sounded like something that may have been swept under the rug.

  “What ‘thing’ are you talking about?”

  “Well, a few years back, there was this big kerfuffle at the firm. The mayor came in there, huffed and puffed, trying to get one of the partners to defend his wife against some vandalism charge. I never got the exact details but it sounds like this incident and Cooter’s charge could have been around the same time. Nothing ever came out of it though, because it all just disappeared, and no one ever talked about again. In fact, I hadn’t thought about the whole thing until just now.”

  Just great. If the two were connected then I’d have to talk to Michelle Harper-Lewis. And the woman hated me. She was the closest thing I had to a sworn enemy, not that I really thought of her like that. I found her to be more annoying, if anything.

  Ever since I got her sculpture taken down from the town square and stored as evidence, something a few Appletonians had thanked me for in private, Michelle had made it her mission to completely ignore me; basically shut me out of as many things as she possibly could. That made things hard since the firm and the mayor’s office were expected to work together on a few things, but I’d managed so far.

  Really, the only time she ever acknowledged me was when it presented an opportunity for snarkiness. She really loved getting one over me, but I didn’t let that happen. But now I’d have to question her and I doubted Michelle would tell me anything willingly. If her talking would help me out, then she’d keep her mouth shut. That meant I’d need to be clever about the whole thing. I’d have to make it seem like this information wasn’t of value or get her talk to some other way. I’d figure it out if it meant helping Cooter.

  But another questio
n was how did the mayor’s wife and one of the town’s richest women get mixed up with Cooter and Lonny in a crime? And what exactly did they do?

  I didn’t see any of them as particularly nefarious. Coot and Lonny seemed to mainly stick to getting a little too rowdy from time to time and Michelle prided herself on being highbrow. I’d have assumed that if she ever committed a crime, it’d be a little more white collar. Also, I knew Cooter and Michelle interacted a good amount since she would often scour his dump for pieces to put in her sculptures, but that was the only connection I could see between the two of them.

  Nothing came to mind that would prove to me that she’d even give them –Lonny or Cooter – the time of day. She was too much of a snob. I knew I would drive myself crazy trying to figure this out with the limited facts I had at my disposal. I could always ask my boss about it, but there was already tension because I had taken on Cooter’s case. He had seen me putting in the extra hours, and while Mr. Winston didn’t say anything, I knew he wasn’t entirely happy that the case was cutting into my typical work hours. It probably wasn’t the best time to ask him for help on this.

  Tammy and I finished our lunch and we headed back to the office. I got right back to work, knocking out everything I was supposed to get done for the day. I was the last one in the office and I took a second to lean back in my seat and appreciate the quiet.

  It had been pretty hectic and, to top it all off, having two young puppies in the house was a bit of a challenge. They were relatively well-behaved for being so young, but they were still puppies and had a few moments of youthful idiocy. Always cute, but hard work nonetheless. Plus, I had planned on seeing Coot at the jail again tonight and I just wanted to mentally prepare myself just in case he continued to be difficult.

  I picked up Shortbread and locked up the office. The walk to the jail wasn’t a long one, but it gave me a little more time to think. I thought that maybe if I could loosen Cooter up with a few softball questions, steep him in a bit of small talk, then he might be more open. Hopefully, this would work. I wasn’t sure what else I could do outside of scare tactics, something I didn’t really like to employ, but if the situation called for it…well, even then, I wasn’t sure that would work on Cooter.