A Timely Murder

by Max Parrott

  "Someone will eventually," Jasmine said.

  "I don't know about that," said Joe. "Sometimes I think I made a mistake, coming back to civilization. Like I'm a different animal, and this isn't the place for me. And sometimes I think everyone out here in the world is a lot nastier than they have any logical reason to be. They're just nasty for the sake of it, because it makes them feel better about themselves or whatever.

  "And all those thoughts were running through my mind as I stood there, staring at Lyle. I guess he could probably tell I was getting mad, because he took a step back, using the counter as a shield. But I didn't try and hit him, or anything. I just started yelling. I yelled about how selfish he was, how mean and nasty, how other people had given him all this success with their generosity but he couldn't be bothered to spread any of that back. Everyone in the restaurant was staring. The hostess and all the other workers were watching from afar. Lyle listened to my whole tirade, and then he picked up the phone. 'I'm going to call the police,' he said, 'if you don't get out of here right now!' So I left, finally. I got a bit of sense back in my brain and left. But not before I said one of the dumbest things I've ever said."

  "What was it?" Jasmine asked.

  "I told Lyle that one day he'd be sorry," Joe replied, hanging his head even further. "I told him I'd make sure of it."

  Jasmine sighed. "That does sound bad, Joe."

  "I know, but I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that I'd become successful and rich too, just like he is, and I'd teach him not to judge people so fast. That's all I meant."

  "I'm sure of that," said Jasmine. "The cops probably know all these details by now. They must have called that person at Pineapple back."

  Joe nodded. "They already questioned me. I explained everything. I don't know what they're going to do with it."

  "Probably nothing," said Jasmine. "Not while I'm still in here. They have a piece of evidence on me, Joe. Real, material evidence. What you did doesn't outweigh that. I want you to tell me one more thing... was Oliver at the restaurant that day?"

  Joe nodded. "He was there, sitting at the bar. Looked like he had just gotten there. He was doing homework, I think, with his headphones on. But he took them off when I started yelling. When I left... he followed me out. I could hear his father yelling for him to come back, but Oliver ignored him. He caught up to me, and he told me to be careful who I messed with."

  "He threatened you?" Jasmine asked.

  "No. He didn't make it sound like a threat. More like a warning, like he was on my side. Then he went back in."

  "What did you do next?"

  "I came to your place," he said with a shaky smile. "That was the day you found me at your door, remember?"

  Jasmine nodded. It was starting to come together now, in the faintest of ways. The skeleton of the problem was still mostly bare, but some wisps of flesh were beginning to form around the peripheries.

  "That's all I wanted to talk about," she said. "Unless there's anything else you can think of that I'd like to know."

  Joe shook his head. "I've been avoiding the area around Pineapple like the plague since that day. Too much shame. I felt terrible about my outburst, especially after what happened to Oliver... for no real reason, I just felt like I had made one of his final days less pleasant than it could have been. I thought of visiting you at Wildwood a couple of times, but I was too afraid of who I might run into."

  "You could have visited my apartment again," Jasmine said.

  He shrugged. "I don't know why I didn't. I don't know why I'm like this."

  "Because you're you," said Jasmine. "If everyone was the same, life would be boring. Listen... my apartment is empty now. Obviously. Barrett will give you my key, I'm sure. Someone has to take care of Luffy. I was keeping him with me until someone showed up who could take him."

  Joe and Luffy shared a look. The dog flicked his tail nervously. They had a working relationship. They were acquaintances, but maybe they could be more.

  "For how long?" Joe asked.

  "No more than twenty-four hours," she replied. "My parents will be here by then."

  Joe nodded. "I can do that. You can count on it, Jasmine."

  ***

  And so Luffy was gone. For the first time in many months, Jasmine was fully alone. Always he had been there, even weaseling his way into the bathroom whenever she wanted privacy, or waiting just outside the door. He was there in the morning when she opened her eyes, staring patiently and waiting for her to wake up or else snoozing right along with her.

  And now he was gone.

  Jasmine didn't know what to do with herself. She felt shame, burning hot inside her. Sadness. She felt like the worst person in the world for sending him away, and she kept remembering the way he looked back at her as Joe led him down the hall. He had gone, but not willingly. Even now, she felt like he had left something of himself in the cell with her. He would never be free until she was.

  But she knew she had done the right thing. She would be with him again soon.

  There was nothing to do now but sit and wait for something to happen.

  Finally, two hours after Luffy had disappeared, Barrett appeared outside her cell. He was wearing an apologetic smile, and holding a greasy paper bag.

  "I brought you some food," he said. "I know you like cheeseburgers and fries. Maybe we can talk a bit more."

  Jasmine stood up, shaking off her stupor. Barrett unlocked the cell and they walked together back to the same old interrogation room. This time Jasmine wasn't put in cuffs. All the better to dig into her fast food treat, which she did not hesitate to do. The only time she slowed down was when she reflexively reached under the table to feed Luffy a few fries... only to remember that he wasn't there. She let out a quiet sigh and went back to her burger.

  "Thirsty?" Barrett asked, sliding a frosty can of cola over to her. "A bit of caffeine and sugar for ya. Nothing better, right?"

  She popped open the can and took a long, frosty swallow. She felt the cold, acidic tang creeping down her throat. After hours of stale cell air and warm tap water to drink, it seemed like the greatest thing ever.

  "I was just wondering," Barrett said casually, as though it were a side matter of little importance, "if you'd given the evidence any more thought. The patch from your backpack. Maybe you remember how it ended up there."

  "I wish I did," she said. "But I have no idea."

  He nodded. "Yeah, I've got nothing concrete either. Obviously there's more than one way. It could have fallen off your pack and someone dragged it up there on the bottom of their shoe. Or maybe it was planted there by someone who wanted you to go down."

  "That could be," said Jasmine. "But I know one way that couldn't have happened. I didn't go up there. I haven't been up there in a long time."

  Barrett nodded. "We figured out that Oliver died the night before he was found. He was cold and stiff when we brought him into the lab. He'd been there for at least ten hours, maybe longer. Which means he fell off that tower when at least a few stragglers must have been at Wildwood. There could be a witness that isn't coming forward for some reason. Someone who could exonerate you."

  "Or condemn me," Jasmine said with a smile.

  "Not if you didn't do it."

  "I didn't."

  "Then I guess it's all settled between us," said Barrett. "We just have to let the evidence catch up. Hang in there, Jasmine. I'm not sure if you do anymore, but I still have faith in our procedures."

  "That's good for you, Barrett. I've had to give up my freedom, and now my dog. Pretty soon I feel like I might need to give up my crappy jail cell for an even crappier prison cell. I'm getting railroaded here. It happens all the time. You know it does. An incompetent police force can't actually solve a crime, so they latch onto the first suspect who comes along. And an innocent person goes down for something they didn't do."

  Barrett nodded. "It does happen. But it won't happen to you. Not while I'm around."

  Jasmine smiled. "I see you ar
en't holding my past words against me."

  His eyes went wide. "What words?"

  "You know... me holding back evidence in exchange for freedom."

  "That?" Barrett said with a smile. "It's up to you what you tell us, Jasmine. But if you know something that might be able to get you out of hot water..."

  "That all depends on how much stock your colleagues will put in what I say," Jasmine replied with a shrug.

  Barrett shook his head. "I'm still in charge of this investigation, Jasmine. I have more power than they do. Are you sure there isn't anything you want to tell me?"

  Jasmine thought about that slowly. She thought about it long and hard as she ate the rest of her food, nibbling away at it gradually. Barrett sat patiently, wordlessly, and watched her. He didn't seem to be in any hurry. Not at first glance. But there was a certain harried look in his eyes that Jasmine only noticed when she looked deeply into him. His knee kept bouncing up and down. He was worried.

  In the end, she decided to come forward. So it began, a spilling forth of all the confused knowledge she had gathered. Barrett listened closely, leaning forward on the table like an attentive student.

  Chapter 8

  "Listen here, Joe," Luffy said. "We've got stuff to do, and it doesn't involve sitting around here feeling sad and pathetic."

  The drifter just sat there in the recliner, staring into space, his hand idly scratching Luffy's neck. This wasn't going anywhere. Time was being wasted.

  Luffy broke away and went to the door, jumping up to put his forepaws on it, nosing the leash that hung on a nearby hook.

  "Look, dummy," Luffy said. "I want to go for a walk. Look here! Obviously I can't talk to you, but I'm sure you can read between the lines here."

  Joe glanced up, frowning for a moment, then shifting forward at last in the chair.

  "You want to go out?" he asked.

  Luffy barked. "Obviously! What's it look like?"

  He didn't think it was possible to miss Jasmine more than he already did, but this guy was starting to prove him wrong.

  Joe finally got up. With a long-suffering sigh he pulled his shoes on, then grabbed the leash and hooked it to Luffy's neck.

  "Hey," Luffy said. "The man can learn. Good. Now let's go!"

  Evidently, Joe thought they were just going for a routine potty break. But Luffy immediately started pulling the poor guy along, yanking and clawing his way through the grass and across the asphalt.

  "Whoa!" Joe called. "Hold on!"

  "No," said Luffy. "You hold on. I'm on a mission, and you aren't going to be able to stop me."

  As soon as they were out on the sidewalk, Luffy put his nose to the pavement and started sniffing along. He knew the scent he was looking for, and it was only a matter of time before he found it.

  ***

  "Jasmine?"

  She heard her name from somewhere up above, beyond what was currently happening. It was like the voice of God shouting down at her, echoing through heaven and sky to reach her where she was, far down...

  It was dark. It was cold and damp. She felt her clothing stick to her and her breath rushing in and out in gasping torrents. She was running up winding stone steps, past narrow windows filled with old, yellow glass. It was the clock tower at Wildwood. She was trying to reach the top... and there was someone up ahead of her. Someone behind her, too.

  "Jasmine!"

  She came back. She awoke in the interrogation room, slumped back in her chair but with her hands gripping the edge of the table hard, as though it was a lifeline in a stormy sea. She sat forward quickly, clearing her throat and stretching her neck, playing it off.

  "Are you OK?" Barrett asked, with a shocked expression on his face. "I thought I lost you for a second."

  "Hm?" She stared at him.

  "It looked like you were having some kind of seizure," Barrett replied.

  "Oh, that?" She smiled. "It's just something that happens to me now and then. It's stress induced. It's been happening my whole life. My doctor told me it's nothing to worry about."

  "But what if you fell?" Barrett asked.

  "I never have," said Jasmine. "It's nothing."

  She drank down the last of her soda, taking her time, hoping Barrett would move on. The last thing she wanted was to be checked into a hospital somewhere. But he didn't look like he was going to drop it. He looked concerned.

  There was a knock at the door behind him. It opened a moment later, and another officer stuck his head in.

  "You've got a call, Barrett," the man said. "It's important."

  Barrett nodded and got to his feet. "I'll be right back, Jasmine. Don't go anywhere."

  "Funny," she said.

  Barrett smiled as he stepped into the hall. The door was shut and locked behind him. Even if it hadn't been locked, Jasmine wasn't about to try and escape. She already knew she was innocent, but a breakout attempt would land her back in her cell with new charges. Ones that would stick.

  So she sat. While she was waiting, she cleaned up the area a bit. She wadded the burger wrapper into a ball, collapse the little cardboard sleeve that held the fries, and stuffed both into the paper bag along with the empty can. She scraped a few errant bits of onion off the tabletop and tossed those in as well. And then were was nothing else. Nothing left to occupy herself. She sat and stared at the door, willing it to open.

  And finally it did. It swung halfway ajar, and Barrett stuck his head and shoulders into the room. His ruddy cheeks had gone quite a bit ruddier. He smiled, but it was a nervous kind of smile.

  "Good news," he said. "You're getting out of here."

  Jasmine hopped to her feet, tucking the fast food bag under her arm. "What? How?"

  "I'll take you down to the desk and your things will be handed over," Barrett explained. "I'll give you a ride back home."

  Jasmine followed him out into the hall. "Barrett, who called?"

  He shook his head. "Sorry for this whole mix-up, Jasmine. If there's anything else I can do, just ask."

  "It was an FBI agent, wasn't it?" she asked with a grin. "A guy named Marlon Gale?"

  He said nothing, and gave nothing away.

  At the front counter, Jasmine was given back all her things. Her phone, her wallet, and her backpack. Nothing was missing. She was certain everything had been gone through, but the police had found nothing they thought was worth keeping.

  Jasmine and Barrett stepped out into a rainy evening. The streets looked like they had been subject to a recent downpour that was only just starting to peter out into a light sprinkle.

  "Why won't you tell me who called?" she asked.

  "Because they didn't want to be identified," said Barrett. He opened the front passenger door of his squad car, then stepped around to the other side.

  Jasmine slipped into the front seat and pulled the door shut against the wind and rain. Beside her, Barrett turned on the engine and kicked the heat up a notch to dispel the wet chill in the air. But he didn't disengage the car from park. He simply gripped the gear shift in one hand and the steering wheel in the other, chewing his lip as he stared out through a windshield smeared with rain.

  "Motive is the question," he said.

  Jasmine turned her whole body toward him, waiting.

  "We know a few people who might have had a reason to kill Oliver," she added.

  Barrett nodded, turning a knob to switch the wipers on at their lowest setting. "There's your friend, Charles Dane. Oliver beat him out for a position he badly wanted, right? Then there's Professor Keller. Oliver undermined him in class and made him feel dumb. It's a flimsy reason to kill someone, but I've seen flimsier. Who else?"

  "Dean DuPont," Jasmine said. "Oliver was trying to change things at Wildwood, and he was making the whole school board look bad."

  "Is that it?" Barrett asked.

  "Those are the definite suspects," said Jasmine. "I have some suspicions about Lucille Whitaker. She was way too defensive when I tried interviewing her. She and her husband, or whoev
er he is... I've seen him wandering around Wildwood pretty late in the afternoon."

  "What about Sampson Hawke?"

  Jasmine shrugged. "I can't find any reason he would want Oliver out of the picture."

  "But we still have the people that were on my list," said Barrett.

  "I didn't get around to talking with Oliver's parents. I was kind of saving them for last. And Joe... Well, now you know the history of Joe. He wasn't a killer then, at the rest stop, and he isn't a killer now."

  "Then we'll have to talk with Lyle and Sandra," said Barrett. "They're the only people who haven't been properly interviewed yet."

  Jasmine checked the time. "Pineapple should still be open, right?"

  Barrett nodded.

  "Then let's go," Jasmine said.

  ***

  "It's cold. It's rainy. And I have no idea where we are. Luffy, I think you've gone crazy."

  Joe had been rambling thusly for the past twenty minutes. Talking softly to himself because, of course, it wasn't like the dog would understand him. But to his credit he was going along, braving the cold, wet weather.

  Luffy still had no idea what he was looking for. Not consciously. But he had caught a scent, and it felt right. He was on his way. And every block they walked, the stronger the scene got. When it got weaker, he would double back and take a different course. By and by, he narrowed in on the source of the smell. And when he was almost close enough to taste it, he remembered what it was.

  A strong whiff of perfume, which smelled the same as a vague hint he had caught wafting off Oliver Bridges that day in the dining hall, when he and Jasmine were talking over some philosophical mumbo jumbo.

  They rounded the corner, and saw a tall, blonde woman walking briskly away from them. She was holding an umbrella, but a moment later she collapsed it and tucked it under her arm as she stepped off the sidewalk and approached the door of a small, ivy-covered townhouse.