So, I got to work. Or I tried to. I just couldn’t get my brain to stop looking for more insight into Cooter’s case. I liked solving puzzles. Was it a gift or curse? I didn’t know, but I got right back to trying to figure the whole thing out.
I had the postcard pieces in a baggy in my purse. I got some tweezers out and carefully removed each piece. I didn’t want to disturb anything more than I already had. I did my best to arrange them, but I didn’t have enough to form a full picture. What I did end up with was part of a capital ‘B’ and a piece that matched the font of a lowercase ‘g’ on another. It also looked like someone might have written something on it, but I couldn’t identify the words.
Who even knew if these pieces of paper meant anything? I’d picked them up because of their proximity to where Lonny’s body was found, and they appeared to have what I thought was blood on them. But was it even blood? I could try giving it to Sheriff Cranston again, but he probably wouldn’t even take me seriously. He didn’t the first time and I hadn’t done anything to make what I had more convincing.
Anyway, it would take weeks to for a DNA test. I didn’t have that kind of time or patience. And, honestly, with my luck, it’d end up being chocolate sauce or something equally as dumb.
I took pictures of what I managed to construct and then put them back in the baggy and tucked them into my bag. I really had to get back to work. I didn’t want to have another late night.
I got through the workday, though it was a long one. I chalked it up to wanting to get everything with Cooter solved. Plus, I’d been working double time on everything. I needed to compartmentalize better.
Shortbread and I headed home and, like the angel she is, Ashley had dinner ready. We sat and ate and laughed and, when it was all done, I helped her clean up and clear the table and kitchen.
When everything was done being cleaned, I leaned against the counter and thought about what to do. My head was racing with thoughts of what I could do concerning Coot’s case.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Ashley asked while wiping her hands dry.
She placed the rag in its designated place and leaned against the island across from me.
I tilted my head and told her, “I don’t know. I’m trying to figure out what to do about Cooter. I’m not really pressed about getting him out of jail. I think he actually likes being in there.”
Ashley made a face somewhere between confusion and disgust.
“How could someone like being in there. It’s the worst. There’s no privacy and nothing to do except wait for your fate to be decided. And you have no idea if the jury is going to get it right because the American legal system is constantly failing its people and sometimes it takes a little bit of luck like the luck that I got when you ended up being my lawyer and even then it can come down to the wire.”
Ashley was getting all red in the face and I was worried she might run out of breath.
“I know how strongly you feel about our jails, Ash, but Coot has been arrested a few times before. He’s used to spending a few days here and there in jail. And it’s not like it’s prison. That’s what I’m really trying to avoid for him.”
Cooter was probably really calm because he was dealing with something he has dealt with before. All of his crimes had been low-level, so he only had to be held in the local jail, but a murder would get him sent to a real prison or even death row and I knew he wouldn’t like that. He’d probably have to abandon his nonviolence pledge.
“I’m sure you’ll crack the case. You were there for me when no one else was and now you’re there for Cooter. And you’re crazy smart, Kari. If you keep digging, I know you’ll get the evidence you need.”
I did need to keep digging.
“Hey, I have an idea. Do you want to go back to the dump with me?” I asked. “There could still be clues there that we missed on the first go-around.”
Who knew what I would find the second time around?
“Well, obviously. I mean what properly raised Southern girl wouldn’t want to spend Friday night at the dump,” Ashley inquired in return.
I laughed at her response.
“I’m guessing this properly raised Southern girl would love to spend her Friday night at the dump if it means spending it with her good friend,” I said while doing a couple of finger guns at her.
She rolled her eyes and nodded. We got the dogs leashed up and into the car before heading over.
“So, what are we going to do once we get there?” Ash asked while I drove us over.
Once again, I wasn’t sure what we were looking for. I highly doubted we’d be able to find more pieces of that postcard I had tucked in my work bag and I wasn’t about to hinge our entire trip out on locating more of those.
“We’re going to try and find some clues. What those clues are, I don’t know, but I’m sure we’ll know them when we see them,” I admitted.
Ash nodded and accepted my answer. I knew it was weird to take my roommate on what amounted to a wild goose chase at the local dump, but Ashley was really a trooper, going along with my plans.
And I had to give it up for the puppies. Shortbread got the brunt of it, but Biscotti was a good girl and I didn’t want to forget that she’s been pleasantly agreeable. Everyone, including me, deserved a treat.
We got to the dump and the four of us got out of the car. I was looking every which way, trying to decide which way to go. Before I made any type of decision, Shortbread made one for me and walked forward, pulling me along with him. Ashley and Biscotti happily followed.
“It looks like Shortbread is in charge of navigation today,” I announced.
He seemed so confident leading us all along. He kind of skipped along like we were out for a typical, leisurely stroll.
“Do you have an idea where he is going?”
He kept leading us deeper and deeper into the junkyard. I had no idea where we were going, but it was giving me a chance to really look around.
“I don’t know where this little guy is going, but I trust him.”
I believed in the wisdom that dogs could sense certain things on a deeper level than us people, so I doubted Shortbread would lead us astray.
As we explored the dump, I looked down a cleared pathway and saw something that looked kind of interesting.
“Hey, guys. Look.”
We all stopped, and I pointed at the object that had caught my eye.
“What does that look like to you? Anything?”
Ashley squinted her eyes and tilted her head.
“I don’t know,” she answered while shaking her head. “Is it supposed to be something?”
“Come on,” I said, motioning for everyone to follow me. We got a little closer and I asked again, “Doesn’t it look… like something?”
I actually wasn’t totally sure what exactly it was, but I had a general idea and I was trying to lead Ash to a particular answer but may have been a little too vague. Plus, I wasn’t even totally sure if I was actually seeing what I thought I was seeing.
“It looks like… junk?” Ashley offered.
It was junk, but it was also more than junk.
I turned to the dogs, “Do you guys see it? It’s a sculpture. It’s one of Cooter’s art pieces!”
Ashley furrowed her brow and got a little closer to the art piece. She walked around it, Biscotti following her. Shortbread watched the two of them analyzing Cooter’s sculpture. Michelle was right when she said they were hard to find. I wouldn’t say I was an art expert or anything, but something about this garbage looked like it was arranged.
Ashley got back to standing next to me and slowly started nodding.
“You know, it does look like something. Maybe a person? I’d say he’s done a better job than Michelle.”
I had to agree. I could see this maybe being in the town square and people actually liking it. Cooter really was a secret artist. How cool!
I didn’t want to spend all our time staring at the sculpture, so we resta
rted our stroll. Biscotti walked further forward and joined Shortbread at the front. It looked like the two of them were having a little conversation as they led us around. It was one of the cutest things. I was so happy the two of them had hit it off so well.
“Look at the siblings. They’re going to be best friends!” Ashley exclaimed.
It was nice when siblings got along, and I was glad these guys weren’t the squabbling kind. I’d seen them spending a lot of time together in the backyard, entertaining one another and enjoying all the space. Moving in with Ashley was one of the best decisions I’d ever made.
“What do you think they’re talking about?”
“They’re probably gabbing about how crazy their owners are, bringing them to a dump on like three separate occasions in one week. Biscotti just left the country and Shortbread has been off the farm a little longer, so he’s more accustomed to that realness of the suburban South, but this big, wide world is also a bit new to him. They had heard of such places from their parents, but never expected to have the chance to come to them so often and now they want to see as much as they can before it’s too late.”
I was found a little speechless by how prepared that narrative sounded. I felt like Ashley had really thought this thing through.
“Writing a book, are we? If you did, I’d totally read it.”
“I don’t know, maybe. I’ve thought about writing a children’s book before, but I’d need to gather more field notes. See what else Biscotti and Shortbread get up to and then if any publisher gets interested, we’ll see what happens.”
We kept walking for a little longer, but I had realized our walk through the dump was a little futile. Nothing was popping up. Maybe because nothing was there or maybe because it was simply too big with too much clutter for me to be able to make a meaningful discovery. New junk was being added every day, so there was a high chance that potential evidence had already been buried, unfortunately.
“I think that’s everything we’ll find even though we didn’t even find anything…”
I was a little disappointed that this impromptu trip out didn’t bear any fruit. I really wanted to help Cooter out, but I needed more. The only bright spot was that I didn’t have to worry about getting him out of the local jail quickly.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
Ashley trying to make me feel better made me feel a little better. We started to walk back to the front so we could leave but I got to thinking. I hated feeling like I came here all for nothing. I didn’t want to leave with absolutely nothing, so I thought maybe a look into Cooter’s mail might bear some fruit. Even if it didn’t, I could declutter his mailbox.
I told Ashley, “Let’s go up to Coot’s place on our way out. I want to check his mail. Maybe something’s in there?”
Ashley agreed to go with me and I peeked into the box. There were a few pieces, bills, and the usual. I took out the junk and spam and, close to the end of the pile, I found an invitation to the ‘Bowling Ball.” Huh, cute pun.
“Ash, look at this.”
She looked over my shoulder at the invitation and lets out a laugh through her nose.
“That’s funny. Bowling Ball. Clever.”
I loved how much she was into it. Ash found every joke about ten times funnier than it actually was, but it just meant she had a wholesome sense of humor.
I read more of the invitation and saw that it was in a bowling alley called Ten Pinz and it was one town over in Jasperville. In fact, it looked very similar to the torn-up card I found near where Lonny’s body was discovered, assuming that was even a clue. It wasn’t a revelation that Cooter went bowling in Jasperville. There was no bowling alley in Appleton, so he had to go somewhere. That one was probably the closest. It was new information, but big deal, right?
I turned the invitation over and saw there was an ad on the back for a dance instructor, Gustavo French. I also showed this to Ashley. “Have you heard of this guy?” She looked at the ad and shook her head.
“No. Gustavo French is an interesting name.”
It was. It could be a pseudonym. Some of the artistic types liked to use them to make themselves sound more interesting. Plus, the number accompanying the ad was an Appleton one.
“Hey! He’s based here!” Ash said, noticing the same exact thing I did.
“Do you think I should talk to him?”
Ashley looked at me like she had no idea what I was talking about.
“Why? Do you want to learn how to dance? Not that I’m judging you if you do. It just seems a little out of left field, you know?”
I almost laughed at Ashley’s reaction. She went from incredulity, to acceptance of my potential newfound interest.
“No, I mean that’s not why I want to talk to him. Maybe dancing, but I’m thinking maybe he’ll know something, right?” I shrugged.
Ashley shrugged right back, but it was like a ‘yes’ shrug. It was tenuous, but what the heck? It couldn’t hurt and it would give me something to do regarding Cooter’s case. So, yeah, I was going to look into this Gustavo French character and see what shook out of it. If nothing did, then what had I really lost?
Chapter Twelve
Saturday
It was finally the weekend. Saturday!
Of course, that didn’t mean I’d be getting any kind of break. I found Gustavo French’s website last night and did some digging. He typically held classes on nights and weekends, citing his desire to consider his clients work-lives. He felt that ‘a balance between the necessary and the fun was always needed, and life was at its best when one did not get in the way of the other or, better yet, they melded together.’ It was a bit preachy, but the message was a good one and I could appreciate it. Plus, it meant I could easily crash one of his sessions.
The site also said that he had a class today from four to six. I wasn’t going to actually go to a class – that would have been too much of a commitment.
Instead, I suggested to Ashley, “We could maybe walk the dogs, hang around outside the church, we look at our watches and – oh my goodness, it looks like the dance class is about to let out. We may as well go talk to that Gustavo French since we’re already here? Huh? Huh?”
I gave Ash a look like the idea I just presented was amazing. She narrowed her eyes at me, but said, “Okay, I see where you’re coming from. I like your presentation and I am very much down to help you with the execution. The added level of intrigue has also piqued my interest.”
I got very excited and ran down a quick plan.
“So, the church is the one that’s a few blocks down, so well within walking distance. We can take the puppies. They’ll get some exercise and I’ll get some information from Gustavo. It’s a win-win.”
It was still a couple of hours until we’d have to be down there, so Ash and I busied ourselves to pass the time. I got through some work, mostly stuff that I had brought home from the office to catch up on. Time flew by and soon we were leashing up the pups, who were very excited for their walk. It didn’t matter how many times we took them out, every time they got their little customized collars around their necks, they’d just start to do a little four-pawed happy dance.
Once everyone was ready for our little excursion, the four of us headed out the door and down the street towards the nearby church. There were, it seemed, more churches, given Appleton’s square mileage, than were needed to serve its population, but that was just the town’s thing.
Shortbread and Biscotti were ahead of us, but content to follow our lead. They really liked walking side by side and I would never begrudge the siblings some quality time together.
“Do you know what you’re going to say to this Gustavo when we meet him?” Ashley asked.
I’d been thinking about conversation openers the entire time I was working in my room. I didn’t want to say anything that would scare him away, but I also could just go in and hope for the best. I'd need to get a read on him first. Thankfully, I brought a little something to help out.
“Well, I have this,” I said as I pulled out the ‘Bowling Ball’ flyer. “I could maybe ask him about it? I’m not sure what else I could go in with. I don’t have a lot of other material.”
Ashley mulled over what I said.
“I think that could work. I mean, there isn’t much else. We don’t even know what this Gustavo French guy is like. The only thing I am sure of is that his name is fake. He probably thought it would make him sound more Parisienne but it just makes him sound like a poser in my opinion.”
I laughed at Ashley’s joke and not too much later, we were at the church. We got there a few minutes before the class ended, just like I had planned. I didn’t want there to be any chance of me missing out on this potential moment.
While we’re waiting for the class to let out, Shortbread began to tug on his leash.
“What is it, boy? Are you okay?” Obviously, he didn’t quite understand what I was saying to him, but he did continue to pull. “Maybe he wants to –”
I didn’t finish what I was saying to Ashley, but she got the hint and waved me away to let Shortbread take care of any potential business. He was pulling me towards the woods behind the church, so the explanation I had in my head felt like the right one.
We got to spot where he felt comfortable plopping down and I looked at him, realizing just in time that my little guy was about to go to the bathroom in what looked like a large pool of dried blood.
“Oh dear god, not there Shorty!”
He jumped a little at my sudden rise in volume and looked up at me with those big puppy eyes. I felt a little bad for scaring him, but I guided him away from the suspicious puddle and he got it done somewhere else. While he was going, I took out my phone and took a couple photos of the large pool. I sent them to Sheriff Cranston along with a few details.
Kari Jacobs Box Set Page 24
