Mr. Cooter's Bowling Ball

by Harper Harris

  On my way out, I passed by Elmer again.

  “I see you saw the one-man dance party?”

  “Yep,” I said, smiling.

  “I couldn’t bring myself to disturb him either. He just looked so happy.”

  I nodded in agreement and then left the station. Shortbread and I went back home and found ourselves having a lazy Sunday. But then, like it did every week, Monday rolled around and I had to head to work. Sadly, though, I didn’t get much done with Cooter’s case. I’d stumbled over a clue here and there that got me excited, but it wasn’t enough to give me anything significant.

  I got through the workday without much incident. Doing a little work over the weekend had really helped me out with Monday’s workload. I got through everything I needed for the day, but I ended up staying late anyway. I was going over the coroner’s report that had finally been sent over from the county seat. It was a bit of pain having to wait so long, but that was just the way the system worked.

  Since it was a coroner’s report, it didn’t have the reason why someone would have wanted to kill Zebulon Krump. If coroners could deduce that then there would barely be any need for police or detectives. The why was for other people to figure out. Getting the answer to ‘why’ would really help things along. The motive was the best way to find a suspect. It would point out the real ‘who’ in all of this.

  I moved on to the police report next. It looked like both Lonny and Cooter were both at dance class last Saturday. This was the last time anyone saw Lonny alive – minus the one who killed him. Cooter had said that, over the following thirty minutes, he was walking home. Problem was, he couldn’t account for it since he didn’t see anyone, no one saw him, and he didn’t stop anywhere along the way. It was akin to the ‘I was home’ defense. Not a lot of people bought it and it would not stand up in court.

  Nothing in the report mentioned yesterday’s findings, which was understandable. I was guessing no one had had the chance to add that new detail yet. Either way, I very much believed that Lonny was killed behind the church after dance class. What that meant was that the body would have had to have been transported across town at dusk.

  If Cooter was the murderer that meant he would have carried a completely limp body. He didn’t have a car. The only vehicle he owned and used with any regularity was his garbage truck, but no one saw him driving it to dance class that day, and I’d say it would have been really hard to miss. So, how did Lonny’s body get from behind the church to Cooter’s dump?

  I glanced over at the clock and saw that I needed to stop by the jail before it was locked up for the night. Unlike Elmer, I didn’t have an ‘in’ with the night officer, so once those doors closed for the night, they were closed.

  I gathered up all my things and got myself and my dog over to the local jail. I got there just on time and was able to go to the back and see Cooter.

  “Hey Coot!”

  He gave me an unenthusiastic, “Hey.”

  He was lying down on the bench, a position I usually found him in. I wasn’t upset that he didn’t seem happy to see me, that was just Coot.

  “So, I came to let you know what I’ve found out since I last saw you,” or the last time he saw me see him. The last time I saw Cooter, he was dancing with all the joyful abandon of someone not in prison. “So, I went back to the dump to see if I could find anything there. Ash and I ended up wandering for a bit.”

  “Find anything interesting” he kind of grunted.

  “Yeah, there wasn’t much in the actual junkyard.”

  I wasn’t going to tell him about the finding of his art because I wasn’t sure how he’d feel about it. He might like it, he might hate it. That’s something I’d find out another day.

  “But I decided on a whim to check your mailbox and I found an invitation for the ‘Bowling Ball.’ It looked like something around where Lonny’s body was found, so it piqued my interest. What I found on the ground was only a few torn up pieces, but I was sure it was the same thing. Anyway, I looked on the back and saw an ad for Gustavo French’s dance class. I thought why not go and see him since the number was a local Appleton one.”

  “You talked to Gustavo?” Cooter finally sat up

  I nodded, “Of course. I told you I'm very thorough. The guy is a total character. But, yeah, Ash and I took the dogs for a walk to the church where he holds his classes and we got there a little early, so we could be outside when the class let out.”

  I realized that I was more doing this to work through everything I’d found out loud. Cooter was functioning as more of a peanut gallery, asking the occasional uninterested question.

  “But, before he came out, Shortbread led me to the back of the church and, when we got there, I found a dried pool of something that looked suspiciously like blood. I told the Sheriff and he sent away samples to be tested and he made sure that they were expediated so we could definitively know whether or not Lonny was killed back there. I also gave him the postcard pieces, so that’ll be coming back too.”

  I was itching to see the results. I was so sure that I had found where Lonny was killed but having the paperwork to back me up would really put the theory over the top.

  “That all sounds good,” he shrugged.

  What I had just revealed was a pretty big revelation, but Cooter wasn’t that thrilled. Not that I expected anything more. I was happy he was talking to me though.

  “It is, but a lot of the footwork could have been avoided or lessened if you had told me you and Lonny were in a dance class together.”

  Cooter made a face.

  “Why?” he demanded indignantly. “Why do you need to know every dang thing about my life? How does knowing I was in a dance class do anything to get me out of here?”

  Cooter really was that daft. How could he not see the obvious?

  “It would have helped because I’m doing this all on my own on my time for a friend. And that friend is you, in case you can’t figure it out. It doesn’t help that I keep going down these rabbit holes. The trip to the dance class did bear some fruit, but I could have gotten to it a lot faster if I didn’t have to stumble up on a random ad in your mail.”

  It was literally luck of the draw. I didn’t think I would have gotten to that point – or maybe I would have once I got the police report – but it still would have taken way too much time to get to that point.

  I could see Cooter felt bad.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. The apology caught me off-guard because I didn’t think he was one to do that. “I didn’t mean to make this… harder for you. I’m just not used to people digging through my life and I got a little defensive.”

  That made sense. Coot was a pretty private person and everything had been turned upside down for him.

  “What do you want to know?” he asked.

  Oh, this would have been a golden opportunity. If only –

  “Oh, Coot.” I started laughing because the irony got to me. “Why didn’t you ask me this on a different day? I literally can’t think of anything to ask you right now.”

  He shook his head and shrugged. “When you think of something, you know where to find me.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Monday & Tuesday

  After I left the station, I went straight home. When I got inside, I closed the door like any normal person would and, as I did that, Ash came bounding towards Shortbread and me, causing the two of us to jump a little.

  “Dear god, Ashley! Are you okay?”

  Her eyes were wide with excitement and I could tell she very much wanted to tell me something.

  “I’m fine, I’m great, I’m amazing! And I’ve got some good news for you!”

  “What is it?” I was very intrigued.

  Ash motioned with her head for me to follow her, and I did after unleashing Shorty. He ran into the house, content to do his own thing, and I eagerly opened up my ears to hear what Ash had to say.

  “So, I started doing some investigating of my own because I love being help
ful and I wanted to be helpful.” Ash was talking like she had had way too many cups of coffee, but I wasn’t about to tell her to slow down. “I was at the most recent Butler family reunion and I had asked my niece – she’s like sixteen, very internet savvy – how one could go about looking into someone on the interwebs. She passed along all her secrets about internet stalking and catfishing and finding every last bit of info anyone has ever posted and I feel like I should talk to her about something, but I’m not sure what. Just some of the things she taught me did concern me a small bit and, also, remember that the internet is not a void, and nothing can ever truly be deleted, but back to you and your thing. So, after we met this Gustavo character and his suspicious French accent, I thought I could use my newly learned skills to see if this guy was for real. And guess what?”

  “What?”

  “He isn’t. He’s the fakest fake to ever fake. Or at least in the top ten.”

  Ashley led me all the way to her computer, and she sat down in front of it. I eagerly waited for her to show me what she had found.

  She started point things out as she explained her findings.

  “Look! Gustavo French is really Gus Franco from Akron, Ohio.” Gus Franco? “Gus was also a dance instructor. In fact, he was one there for many years. But his Yelp rating, oh, it is remarkably dismal. I mean, look at some of these reviews.”

  I skimmed a few, but the prevailing theme was that no one liked Gus and his rating was as low as physically possible on Yelp.

  Ashley moved to another tab.

  “Now look at the ratings for Gustavo. It’s almost all five-star ratings from the suburbs of Charlotte to Jasperville. And look at the glowing review from ‘G.G.’ I’d wager a guess that it’s Gladys.”

  I’d be a part of that bet. Gladys seemed to really love Gustavo.

  “So, did you come up with a plan while doing all this digging?”

  Ashley smirked and went to a third tab.

  “Well, you know how we have dog training tomorrow? Well, Gustavo has a late class at the high school, so we can swing by after our thing ends and confront him. I think with a two-woman front, he’ll have to confess.”

  I liked it. “Let’s do it.”

  Tuesday came around and Ash and I found ourselves at our second dog training session. It was fun learning with Shortbread and Biscotti, but Ash and I were itching to catch Gustavo after his class. It honestly couldn’t end soon enough.

  After our class, Ash and I were out the door and on our way to the Appleton High School gym. We got there before they let the class out and lingered around with the puppies. It was just like when we waited for Gustavo outside the church, but this time we had a lot more information. I wasn’t going to let him talk his way out it.

  Students started to file out and we knew we could go inside and find Gustavo right where we wanted him. Ashley and I hadn’t really discussed a plan of action, but I knew we were on the same page.

  Ash and I entered the gym and found Gustavo cleaning up a few things after class. He heard the two of us entering and turned around.

  “Ah, bonjour mademoiselles! You two are the ones who have no grace, non?”

  That was his label for us? If anything, this man embodied the stereotypical French rudeness if anything.

  “Sure,” I answered.

  “How can I help you ladies today?”

  Ashley and I approached him, and I started us off.

  “We actually wanted to ask you a few questions, if that’s okay?”

  “Mais oui. Go ahead, I am an open book.” Ashley and I gave one another a quick look.

  “Well, the first thing I wanted to ask you was why did you chose to come to Appleton. It’s such a long way from France and what part of France did you say you were from?”

  Ashley went right in for the hardball which was much appreciated. She did not play around.

  “Oh, I am from a small town in the South, you probably do not know. And I do not really know how I found Appleton. One could say it found moi. It is just one of those… je ne sais pas.”

  He wasn’t going to make this easy, so, I thought, why not just go for it? I didn’t feel like playing games.

  “Why did you change your name from Gustavo to Gus and move from Ohio to North Carolina and what’s with the phony French accent and what’s the point of your entire thing?”

  I hadn’t meant to ask so many questions at once, but it kind of just happened.

  “I do not know why you say these things! These lies!”

  He was continuing with the fake French for whatever reason.

  “We’re saying them because they’re true. We looked you up online and found clear evidence they you aren’t who you say you are. Just tell us the truth. It isn’t that hard, Gus. I mean, that accent! You sound like the candelabra from Beauty and the Beast. Have you even met a French person? French Canadian? Watched a French movie? I mean, something?”

  Ashley said all of that very matter-of-factually. She was very caught up in how bad his accent was. I had to agree with the Lumiere comparison. His accent was that bad.

  “I don’t – you can’t – that’s not very…” He kept saying that for a few more seconds before just letting out a big sigh. “Why are you hassling me?”

  Well, that was a change. He dropped the accent. He sounded like a real Midwesterner. It looked like we frustrated him enough to just give up. One point for us.

  “Well, to start, you were with Lonny Krump, someone’s who’s dead, and Cooter Prescott, the one who’s been accused of killing him the night of the murder. Sure, there’s no crime there, but now we know you’re pretending to be someone else, which I’m pretty sure is identity fraud. Right, Ashley?”

  I turned to my friend and nodded.

  “I’m pretty sure it is. So is false advertising. I mean, Gus Franco has exclusively one-star ratings on Yelp, but Gustavo French? I feel like those five-star reviews are highly misrepresentative. I mean, what would the great people of Appleton do if they found out they’ve been duped?”

  It was then when Gus put up his hands.

  “Hold on one second! I earned all of those reviews. I’ve done a great job teaching dance here in North Carolina. I’m an excellent teacher and no one can tell me otherwise.”

  There was nothing I had to directly contradict that statement, but there was something he needed to explain.

  “Well, I mean that’s not totally true,” Ashley responded. “A whole lot of people in Akron would beg to differ. What’s with all those terrible reviews back in Ohio? It doesn’t make sense why everyone back in Akron hated you so much and a change in name plus a fake accent suddenly makes you popular? Really?”

  Ashley, bringing the sass.

  “It wasn’t like that. I was actually a really good dance instructor in Akron. Actually, I wasn’t just good, I was the best. Do you have any idea how cutthroat the community of ballroom dance is? It’s life or death out on the dancefloor and, I guess, I got a little too comfortable at the top. My rivals had those reviews posted as a part of a smear campaign. I was driven from Akron because they were all threatened, because I was so very great. They couldn’t stand trailing in my wake and so they ruined my reputation. So, I find myself here, forced to change my identity and adopt this crazy persona, so those deceitful Yelp reviews wouldn’t follow me. It worked and, once again, I’m thriving as I should be.”

  I felt like Gus was maybe being a little dramatic, but I also didn’t feel like he was lying.

  “I guess that makes some kind of sense, but it still feels a little shady. You can’t just go around lying to people like that.”

  I wasn’t sure what Ashley was trying to do, but I was liking it. It looked like maybe she wanted him to keep talking. He was already in a vulnerable position which meant he was a lot more likely to reveal something. What that something was could be interesting.

  “Look, I really like my job here and the life I’ve made for myself. So, maybe I haven’t gone about creating it in the most conve
ntional way, but I’m not hurting anyone okay?” Ashley gave him a look. “What would you guys say to free dance lessons for life if you promised to keep my secret?” Gus offered.

  Free dance classes? For life? That was a pretty big bribe.

  “Yes, we accept!” Ashley agreed heartily, and I echoed the sentiment.

  Gus was kind of right. He didn’t appear to be scamming anyone. His classes seemed legit and, once again, it was free dance classes for life. At that moment, I didn’t feel like it would have been such a bad thing to go along with Gus’s little lie.

  I wasn’t ready for the conversation to end, though. “Could we ask you a few more questions?”

  Gus looked bothered, but he shrugged. “Sure.”

  I was sure he just wanted us to leave, but we did have him in a spot. I was going to take advantage of the opportunity and see what else I could get him to reveal.

  “Do any of the students smoke?” Gus took a few seconds to think.

  “Um, yeah. Well, former student, Lonny. He did quite a bit actually. Before and after every class without fail and he would go behind the church. He really needed to tone it down, but I guess it doesn’t matter since he’s dead and all. And it’s not even the cigarettes that killed him.”

  Yeah, a little late to think about quitting smoking.

  “Do you know if he went back there the night he was murdered?”

  “Probably. I mean, he went all the time, so I don’t know why he wouldn’t have. I mean, I don’t know for sure since I had to leave in a hurry for a previous engagement.” Vague…