We could hear the racers moving around the path in just about every direction from where we stood as I read them all out loud. We were both puzzled, as all of the clues were riddles.
“Read that crazy one again, Mercy. The others rhyme and make sense, but that one is just a jumbled mess. Maybe it’s the key.”
I knew which one she meant right away. “It’s the card from Mile 4.” I read it:
The clear water is clever
But it
Is careful of thunder
And way too
Big before North star’s
Paper cole slaw
“That one sounds like a bunch of gobbledy-gook to me, Mercy,” Deloris said, taking the small stack of cards and thumbing through them. “But I’m thinking that the other clues are telling us that it’s buried somewhere under where that zipline passes.”
“I think you’re right, Deloris. The zipline is that way. We should look there. But...” I was still wondering about that silly card I just read. “When you said that one clue was a ‘jumbled mess,’ it reminded me of the last card.” I pulled it from her hand and read it:
It sounds like a jumble to the everyday human,
But, with a little help from Alfred E. Newman,
Find the cleaver in Line One and feel the thrills
When you fold it and read it – then head for the hills!
Deloris slowly shook her head. “It should say read it and then fold it. How the heck are you going to read it after you fold it? Darn fools. And who the heck is Alfred E. Newman?”
“That’s it! Deloris, you’re a genius! Give me that card that was a jumble – the one you said was gobbledy-gook.”
She handed it to me and gave me a look like I might be crazy.
“Deloris, Alfred E. Newman is the guy that’s always on the cover of Mad Magazine.”
“Oh, I remember that.” She smiled and chuckled twice. “I used to read it when I was a girl once in a while. I used to like those fold-ins inside their back covers.”
“Exactly! Line One of the Mile card 4, the one that sounds like a jumble, says, The clear water is clever. It says to find the cleaver in there. So, where’s the cleaver?”
“The first part of clear, c-l-e-a, and the last part of clever, v-e-r. Just fold it here and here, and bring them together.”
My hands were shaking with excitement as I made the folds. I brought the two halves of the word together and looked at it: Clea-ver.
Lines two and four disappeared altogether, and we read the message that was left. Our jaws dropped, and Deloris and I looked at each other.
The cleaver
Is under
Big bear’s
Paw.
“Well, what are we waiting for, Mercy? Let’s head for the hill – Big Bear Hill. There’s a big statue of a bear up there.”
“We’d better hurry! It’s at Mile 6, where they get the last clue that tells them to fold the card.”
“We’ll cut straight across through those trees. Hop on!”
Chapter Nine
Three teams had already arrived at Big Bear Hill when we got there. On the way, we saw some of the other teams scouring the wooded areas for the cleaver as they tried to decipher the clues. Yellow, red, and pink ATVs sat atop Big Bear Hill when we pulled in.
“Gourdaine and that chef from Italy are here,” Deloris said, looking at the red and yellow machines.
“I thought the Italian guy had an orange one, Deloris. I don’t remember seeing a yellow one, but there was lots of commotion at the starting line. You’re probably right. Nancy Lu and her grandson are here too, but I don’t see anybody.”
“Let’s get on over to that bear statue, Mercy.”
The Big Bear sculpture was carved out of huge tree trunks with chainsaws and chisels. The bear was standing on its hind legs with one paw extended upward and the other one out in front of it.
“I remember watching the news when they unveiled this, must be ten years ago,” Deloris said as she admired it. “They glued and screwed four big blocks of wood together from some big old trees that had fallen over in a storm. It’s huge.”
We ran to the bear and looked at the ground below its extended front paw.
“Looks like we’re too late, Mercy,” Deloris said as we looked at a hole that had been dug in that spot.
“Is this what you’re looking for, ladies?”
We turned to see who was addressing us. It was Chef Andy Gourdaine, with a big cocky smile on his face. He was holding the golden cleaver in his hand, and he tossed it onto the seat of his red ATV. There was a short-handled army shovel leaning against his red machine too. “Looks like you’re a day late and a dollar short.”
“Congratulations, Chef. Looks like you win again,” I said with my best forced smile, as I wondered how he knew to bring a shovel. “Where’s Chef Flye?”
“I saw his black ATV going through the woods by Mile Marker 5. I guess he never read Mad Magazine, um...” He was trying to remember my name from our meeting in his kitchen. “Is it Ruby? No, she was the pretty one.”
Thank you very much. I don’t think I like you anymore.
“It’s like Faith or Hope, right?”
“It’s Mercy,” something you don’t know the meaning of.
“Helllllp!”
We heard a plaintive cry from the woods. It sounded like a boy.
“I think that’s Jackson, Nancy Lu’s grandson,” I said with concern. “Maybe something’s happened to her.”
We were already running toward the sound as the cry for help was repeated again.
“Where is that old woman, anyway?” Deloris asked, a little out of breath. “She can’t walk, and she’s not on the pink ATV.”
“That’s what I was wondering too. Jackson! Where are you?”
“Over here!”
We looked and saw his hand waving about 30 feet away through the trees.
“Where’s Gourdaine, Mercy?” Deloris looked back, but he didn’t seem to be following us.
“We can worry about that later,” I said as we moved quickly toward the boy. Jackson looked distraught when we arrived.
“I can’t find my grandma, ma’am,” he said. She wanted me to carry her out in the woods to find the cleaver. I put her down right here, like she told me, and then went out that way 50 paces to find the cleaver. That’s what she thought one of the clues meant. And when I got back here, she was gone.”
He was almost breaking down, and I put my arm around him. “Are you sure this is the spot you put her, Jackson?”
Jackson nodded. “I’ve seen her walk a few steps on her own at her house before, but I’ve looked all over the place. She couldn’t have gotten very far on her own.”
Gourdaine suddenly appeared behind us. “I’ll start making some circles around this area. I’ll spiral out and cover as much as I can. We’ll find her. What’s her name?”
“Nancy Lu,” Jackson told him.
The chef nodded and patted the boy on the back. Then he disappeared into the woods.
Maybe he’s not as big a creep as I thought.
“What if a bear or a wolf dragged her off? I never should have left her here.”
“She can’t be far, Jackson. Come on. We’ll look.”
We called her name and beat the bushes for half an hour. There was no sign of Nancy Lu, and we were all getting a bit frantic. That’s when we heard a siren from the competition area followed by an announcement over the stadium-style bullhorn speaker system:
“The ATV race is over. All teams must return to the camp right away. The woods are not safe.”
We all looked at each other, and I was overwhelmed by a cold, sinking feeling.
“Something must have happened to grandma,” Jackson said, his voice cracking and a tear streaming down his cheek now.
“I’m sure she’s fine.” I tried to reassure him, but I was thinking the same thing. That siren before the announcement could have been Brody’s, or maybe an ambulance. “Let’s get
back.”
On top of Big Bear Hill there was just one ATV there, besides ours – Billy Flye’s black one. Nancy Lu’s and Gourdaine’s were gone. It seemed like a glimmer of hope.
“Maybe Grandma crawled up here and drove the ATV back to the camp,” Jackson said, wiping his eye with the back of his fist. “Her legs are pretty crippled, I guess, but her arms are strong now because she has to use them for everything. I’ve seen her lift up my seven-year-old sister over her head to play with her. So, she could have crawled up here. I just don’t know why she didn’t wait for me.”
“Well, if she got up here and drove away, she must be okay,” Deloris said with a bit of optimism.
The three of us squeezed onto our blue ATV and headed for the camp. The whole scene was in complete turmoil and chaos. A hundred people or more from all the teams and TV crews were filling the circle in the middle of the kitchen area. They were all chattering in a low roar that sounded like a pride of hungry lions.
The red and blue lights on top of Brody’s squad car were spinning, and I could see him near the big tree in the middle of the area, where the zipline ended. Then Deloris stopped and grabbed my arm. Her eyes were fixed on the tree.
“Oh, my God!” she said softly.
I followed her gaze and was horrified at what I saw. There were three deer hanging at the end of the zipline, but the fourth body, spinning slowly as it dangled from a rope tied around his body and under his arms, was chef Billy Flye. As his body spun slowly around, I was shocked to see the golden cleaver sticking out of his bloody back.
We were in silent shock for a moment.
“I’m going to find Uncle Randy and see if Grandma is here,” Jackson said. “I see the pink ATV over by the RV.”
“We’ll check in on you soon, Jackson,” I said with my best motherly smile.
Deloris and I looked at each other.
“We’d better tell Brody who found the golden cleaver, Mercy. It looks like one of the big-name chefs decided to knock off his main competition.”
“We don’t know that, Deloris. I’m pretty sure he left the cleaver on his ATV, and he didn’t have it with him when he came to answer Jackson’s call for help. But I’m going to talk to Brody,” I said. “He needs to know that Gourdaine found the cleaver.”
“I think you ladies have something that belongs to me.”
We turned to see Chef Gourdaine.
Chapter Ten
“And what might that be?” Deloris asked the celebrity chef defiantly, stepping up to him and putting her face right up to his.
“You know darn well what I’m talking about. I found that golden cleaver fair and square, and you’re not going to get away with stealing it.”
She turned toward the big tree and stood next to him, looking at the profile of Flye’s lifeless body. It was nearly still now, twisting just a little to the left, to the right, and back again.
“You mean that cleaver?” she said with a tone of accusation as she pointed toward the dangling corpse.
Gourdaine’s eyes grew wide as he saw his celebrity rival, Flye’s face on one side and the cleaver protruding from the other. He looked at Deloris’s accusatory expression and shook his head.
“Oh, no,” he said with denial, shaking his head. “You’re not pinning this on me. Not that he doesn’t deserve this fate, but I had nothing to do with it. I was with you two – until you stole the cleaver and killed Flye.”
“Nice try,” she said, still staring him down. “You know darn well our ATV was still there when you left. And I’m sure your fingerprints are all over the murder weapon, Mr. Bigshot Chef.”
“Guys,” I said, breaking in, “this is not the time to throw accusations around. I’m sure there were plenty of people who had the opportunity to get their hands on that cleaver.”
“And a lot more who had a motive to whack him,” Gourdaine added. “He had plenty of enemies.”
“Let’s all go and tell Sheriff Hayes what we know, since we were all in the vicinity when this crime happened.”
“The only place I’m going is home,” Gourdaine said, turning toward his kitchen and tour bus. “I’m getting out of hillbilly heaven and heading back to the city.” He walked away.
“But, Chef,” I hollered after him, “we have to talk to the Sheriff.” He just kept walking.
Brody was surrounded by several of his deputies as reporters clamoured to ask him questions and get pictures of Chef Flye’s body. Stan Doggerty – the deputy who was in charge of law enforcement for our town of Paint Creek – was trying to establish a perimeter with yellow crime-scene tape. Three police and Sheriff’s department cars surrounded the tree.
“Stan, use the cars for the tape boundary for now until we can get some stakes set up,” Brody ordered. “We’ve got to keep these people back. Get Rodney up to the other end of the zipline. We don’t want any more deer coming down the line, and that whole area has to be taped off too.”
“Brody!” I hollered from the edge of the perimeter as Stan carried out the Sheriff’s orders. I waved my hand, and he held up one finger, indicating that I should wait a minute. The coroner, Sylvia Chambers, was just arriving with the CSI crew, and he spoke with her for a while before she went over to the body.
“Hey, Mercy,” he said with serious eyes as he walked up and put his hand on my shoulder, across the yellow tape. “This is really a terrible development. It puts our county in a bad light. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine, Brody.” I wasn’t fine, but he didn’t have time to worry about my feelings right now. He had enough on his mind. “But, maybe it wasn’t a local who did this. There are people here from all over the world, and there are a lot of people who didn’t like Billy Flye, you know.”
“I know – including Chef Gourdaine and half of the other competitors. He almost threatened to kill him this morning, right in front of me. I wish I knew who found the golden cleaver.”
I hesitated to tell him, but Deloris had caught up with me. She didn’t hesitate.
“It was Chef Andy Gourdaine, Sheriff,” she told him. “We got to the spot where it was buried right after him, and he was holding it in his hand, with a big cocky smile on his face.”
Brody’s eyes were wide and attentive. “Could it be that simple?” He looked from Deloris to me with an inquisitive stare.
“I don’t know, Brody. Maybe – but a lot of people must have crossed over Big Bear Hill. That’s where the cleaver was hidden. We saw him leave it on his ATV before we ran into the woods.”
He listened intently as we told him the story about Jackson and Nancy Lu.
“He seemed truly shocked to see Flye’s body hanging there, but I don’t know. He was heading toward his bus when he left us a few minutes ago, Brody,” I told him. “He said he was leaving here.”
“We’ll see about that,” Brody said with a determined look as he lifted the tape and strode toward Gourdaine’s kitchen.
Deloris grabbed my arm. “This should be interesting. Come on, Mercy.”
“Deloris!” I said, whispering loudly. “We can’t...we shouldn’t...”
“But we’re going to. We’ll just stay a few paces behind him, but we’re following the Sheriff. There’s no way I’m going to miss this, when he confronts Mr. Fancy-Pants Chef about Killing Billy Flye.”
I was really curious to see what was going to happen too, and I followed behind her. We saw Gourdaine’s back. He was in his kitchen, ordering his staff to take everything down and load it into the truck in back. Then he went into his bus.
Brody stopped near the front of the bus, and Deloris, and I caught up to him. He was listening to a loud conversation inside between Gourdaine and Margot Steward. Brody put his finger to his lips when he saw us, and we listened with him:
“We can’t leave now, Andrew!” Margot said with a surprised tone. “The competition is just getting underway, dear.”
“The competition is over, Mar. Their big superstar is dead, and my cleaver is in his back, where it bel
ongs. Our work here is done. They’re not going to keep this silly little contest going now.”
“Of course, they will, dear. They’ve got a lot of money invested in this already. It’s their biggest event of the year, and the whole world is tuning in. The network won’t just walk away because of a little distraction like this. And with Flye out of the way, the prize is practically yours, Andrew.”
“That cocky little SOB finally got what he deserved. His death is better than any prize. If I knew it was this easy to get rid of Flye, I would have killed him a long time ago. He can just show up for any event, and they fawn all over him and hand him the award. He’s got no talent for cooking, and I’m glad he’s dead. But there’s no way I’m sticking around here, now get your things. We’re leaving.”
“If we leave, it will just cast suspicion on you, Andrew.”
“No, it won’t. That hillbilly gal that stopped by here this morning with that country bumpkin Sheriff will tell him how surprised I was when I saw Flye’s body.”
My jaw dropped, and I looked at Brody. “He thinks I’m a hillbilly!” I whispered. “I’m a registered nurse, and I’ve got a degree in English literature. What the...”
“Shhh!” Brody shushed me. “In the elite world of Steward and Gourdaine, we’re all bumpkins. Now, let’s listen to the chef.”
Gourdaine continued. “And I played them like a violin when I pretended I was going to look for the old crippled granny. Like I’ve got time for that. They’ll never put this murder together with me. Now, get ready. We’re getting out of here.”
“Stay here,” Brody whispered. “I’m going in.”
“I’ve got the whole conversation recorded on my cell phone,” I said softly. “Dr. Watson at your service, Sheriff Hayes!”
Brody looked impressed and nodded, then he walked around to the door and knocked hard four times.
“Open up, it’s the Sheriff,” he said loudly.
Deloris and I huddled up to the front of the bus as Margot welcomed him in her warm, phony style.
“Sheriff Hayes! What an unexpected pleasure! Come in, come in, and welcome to our little house.”
Murder, Basted and Barbecued Page 5
