May Day Murder

by Jennifer David Hesse

  I stared at the huge metal pole barn with flashing beer signs in the windows and had to agree. From the outside anyway, it didn’t look very appealing to me. Nor did it fit my image of a saloon—except, perhaps, for the rusty spittoon squatting beside the entrance.

  Wes stopped the car in front of the entrance, but I didn’t get out. According to the sign on the door, the place wouldn’t open for another half hour yet. The only vehicle in the parking lot was a muddy pickup truck that, from the looks of it, might have been there five minutes or five years.

  “Let’s drive around back.”

  As we circled the building, my senses began to tingle and I knew—even before spotting the Camaro—that Farrah was here. We found Viper’s car parked between a white panel van and dusty black sedan. Wes shut off his engine, and we hurried up the short ramp to the back door. I pushed it open and stepped inside, with Wes close behind me.

  It was like a different world. Whereas the outside of the building was plain and utilitarian, the inside featured warm wood paneling, soft lighting, and vibrant music. On a corner stage, a four-piece band stomped their feet and picked out raucous fiddle music. Abruptly, the music stopped, and I feared for a moment that we were the cause. Then it started up again, and I realized they were only rehearsing.

  Wes and I stood against a wall and surveyed the place. Viper and Farrah were nowhere to be seen. I was about ready to interrupt the musicians when a stout man with a ponytail and bandanna emerged through a swinging door. He carried a carton of beer mugs over to the bar counter. Wes approached him and spoke a few words, one bartender to another. I saw the guy nod and point to another dark corner of the building.

  “There’s an apartment upstairs,” said Wes, when he returned. “Mack said we can find our friends there.”

  “Then let’s find them,” I said.

  At the top of the stairs was a loft spanning the width of the barn. We walked past an office to a closed door at the end. Instead of knocking, I reached for the knob and turned. It was unlocked.

  Wes and I looked at each other. He nodded, and I pushed the door open. Moving silently, we stepped inside. I wasn’t sure what we’d find, but I was counting on the element of surprise to work in our favor.

  We found ourselves in a small, cluttered living room. To the left was an adjoining kitchen and straight ahead was a narrow hallway. We heard noises coming from a room at the end of the hall. Gliding silently down the hall, I realized it was the sound of a television, some sitcom with a laugh track. Then there was a lull in the noise, and I heard a voice—Viper’s raspy drone. My heart jumped in my chest.

  From the edge of the doorway, we peered inside. In a glance, I saw a large-screen TV, newspapers and magazines strewn about, dirty dishes, beer bottles, and, to our right, a sagging, rust-colored sofa—with Farrah, sprawled across it. Her eyes were closed, and Viper was leaning over her.

  I gasped involuntarily. Wes charged. In one swift movement, he grabbed Viper by the collar and jerked him backward. Viper let out a startled, strangled cry, and Farrah’s eyes popped open. She sat up straight, her hands flying to her mouth.

  In that instant, it occurred to me that things might not be quite what they seemed. I parted my lips to tell Wes to hold up for a minute. But it was too late. He swung his clenched fist and socked Viper in the jaw, causing the younger guy to lose his balance and fall to his knees. With a pathetic whimper, Viper covered his head with his arms. Wes looked down at him with contempt—and a degree of surprise. I was sure he expected Viper to put up a fight.

  “Is Farrah okay?” he asked, without taking his eyes off Viper.

  “Yeah,” I said. By this time, Farrah had swung her legs to the floor and was reaching for her purse. She pulled out a lipstick and compact, and began touching up her makeup, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “She’s fine.”

  Farrah looked up at me expectantly, amusement twinkling in her eyes. I handed her her cell phone.

  “So, there it is! I’ve been looking for that.”

  “I take it you weren’t kidnapped then?”

  “Um, no. I wasn’t kidnapped.” She snapped the compact shut, then heaved herself off the sofa. “We’ve just been hanging out, but I should probably get home now. Can I catch a ride with you guys?”

  Now that he realized he wasn’t still under attack, Viper stood up and rubbed his jaw. “What the hell, man?”

  Wes appeared confused, the poor thing. His eyes slid from me to Farrah, then over to Viper. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Misunderstanding, I guess.”

  Farrah plucked her single crutch from the table where it leaned, then turned and gave me a coy look. “My, my, Keli. That man of yours is quite the hero, isn’t he?” She hobbled over to Wes and patted his arm. “Think you could channel some of that strength into helping me down the stairs?”

  He nodded and eagerly obliged. I could tell he wanted nothing more than to get the heck out of there and put this embarrassing incident behind us. I picked up Farrah’s purse and followed close behind.

  As we made our way toward the exit, Farrah called cheery good-byes to all the band members, by name. Grinning broadly, they all tipped their cowboy hats and waved. Mack lifted a bottle to her. “Y’all come back now.”

  She laughed and blew him a kiss. “You know I will! Thanks for everything, big guy!”

  I didn’t know whether to hug her or shake her. I knew one thing, though. She had a lot of explaining to do.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Wes dropped off Farrah and me at her apartment building, then headed to the Loose. He was scheduled to work the late shift, which was just as well. I could tell he’d had about all he could take of Farrah’s ditzy, giggly excuses. She kept insisting Viper was a sweetheart once you got to know him, which Wes clearly found hard to believe. Frankly, I wasn’t buying it either. As soon as we were settled on her sofa with a late dinner of hummus-and-cucumber sandwiches with white wine, I let her have it.

  “How long are you going to make me wait?” I demanded.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come on, Farrah. You can drop the act now. I really thought you were in danger!”

  “I’m sorry. I was going to call you today, but I couldn’t find my phone. Obviously. But you knew I had a date last night.”

  “With Viper? He was your date? Wait a minute. The other night when you said you had a guy coming over, was that Viper, too?”

  She dropped her gaze and winced guiltily. “Yeah.”

  “How in the world did this come about? I thought you didn’t like him. You must have had an ulterior motive. Am I right?”

  She held up her hands in surrender, sloshing wine from her glass in the process. “All right, all right. I’ll tell you. Of course, I was going to tell you anyway, but I didn’t expect it to come out like this.”

  “I’m listening.” I handed her a napkin, and she dabbed at the spilled wine. By this point, my earlier fear and subsequent irritation had worn off. I decided to help her out. “You were playing detective, weren’t you?”

  “I just wanted to help. When the opportunity presented itself, I couldn’t pass it up.”

  “He called you?”

  “Yeah. He apologized for being an ass, and said he felt really bad. He asked me what he could do to make it up to me. Without thinking, I blurted that he could bring me dinner and roses. And he said, ‘Done.’”

  “So, you gave him your address.”

  “See, this is why I didn’t tell you before! You were cozying up to Erik the Druid to get information. I figured I could do the same.”

  “I haven’t been ‘cozying up’ with Erik! Anyway, he’s nothing like Viper.”

  “Listen, I was never in any danger. He was a perfect gentleman. Anyway, I had my windows open when he was here, and I could have hollered if I needed help. I have neighbors who watch out for each other all around me.”

  “Are you sure about that? None of them seemed too concerned when you stumbled out of here on a strange guy�
��s arm. Where was your other crutch? And why the sunglasses?”

  “Huh? I don’t know. We were being silly, I guess. And I might have partaken in a hit of a certain kind of cigarette, which made my eyes red.”

  “Farrah!”

  “Stop judging me! I’m a grown woman, and I knew what I was doing.”

  We fell silent and glared at one another. Then her words sank in, and I realized I might have been laying it on a little thick. As it turned out, she apparently was never in any real danger.

  “I’m not judging you,” I finally said. “I just worry, that’s all. A woman was killed, and we still don’t know who did it.”

  “Well, it wasn’t Viper. He was picked up by the cops that morning and was stuck in jail until Billy came and bailed him out.”

  “What time was he arrested?”

  “Between nine-thirty and ten o’clock.”

  “Last I heard, they think the murder happened earlier in the morning. It might have already happened by nine o’clock.”

  Farrah looked away, and I realized nothing good would come from arguing. I reached for the wine bottle and refilled both of our glasses. After a hearty sip, I smacked my lips. “I, uh, had an interesting night last night.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. The game was cancelled, so Erik decided to show me this place where Denise used to go to be alone and perform spells.” I recounted my evening in the fire tower, sparing no detail. When I’d finished, Farrah wagged her finger at me.

  “And you were worried about me! At least I was never really alone with Viper. There were always people within shouting distance.”

  “All right. So, we’re both . . . risk-takers.” I was going to say something less flattering, but it seemed a little rude.

  “Or we both have a well-honed sense of women’s intuition,” she suggested.

  I decided to let that one go. “Hey, you never told me. Did you learn anything useful from Viper?”

  She pursed her lips. “Not so much. He was rather serene about Denise’s death. He said it was unfortunate she went the way she did, but we all have to go eventually. He said she’d learned all the lessons she was meant to learn in this lifetime, and she’ll come back as a more evolved being in the next.”

  “He really said that? I didn’t take him for a mystic.”

  “You should have heard him, Kel. Once he got started—whew! I felt like I was listening to a yogi or something. And it wasn’t all hot air. He really believes magic is for real.”

  I frowned at that. “I believe magic is real, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know. But this was different somehow. It’s like he thinks he’s a magician or something. He said the only reason he was arrested the other day was because he forgot to put up his ‘psychic shields.’ Usually, he’s untouchable.”

  “Untouchable? That sounds a little cocky.”

  “Totally. He claimed he can cast a spell and have anything he wants. He said he’s known it for years, ever since high school. I think he wanted me to dare him to prove it.”

  “But you didn’t?”

  “To tell you the truth, it was a little scary.” I gave her a sharp look, and she shook her head. “I wasn’t afraid of him,” she said quickly. “It’s just that he was really intense. His confidence was almost unnerving. In fact, when he was talking, I couldn’t help thinking of the snake in The Jungle Book. It’s like he has this hypnotic quality, you know?”

  “Are you sure that wasn’t a result of the ‘special cigarette’ you smoked?”

  She threw her napkin at me. “Stop being a little Miss Keli Two-shoes.”

  “Ha ha.” I set my glass aside and sat back. “By the way, something else happened today. With all the excitement of tracking you down, I put it out of my mind.” I told her about finding the hidden camera in my office.

  “Are you kidding me? That’s so creepy!”

  “You’re telling me.”

  “You don’t think it has something to do with the murder, do you? I mean, unless the killer wants to know if you’re on to them. But it seems hard to believe.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that. The woman in my office building who brought the package to me said she’d been holding on to it for a couple of days. So, it was probably mailed before the murder happened.”

  “Gosh, Keli. Maybe you’re the one who needs to put up some psychic defenses.”

  I tried to laugh—hearing Farrah use witchy language was kind of funny. But instead I shivered.

  * * *

  I tried to stay at Farrah’s place until I knew Wes would be home from work, but I couldn’t do it. Though we chatted some more and watched a little television, I found myself struggling to keep my eyes open. When she dozed off in her recliner and started snoring, I knew it was time to go.

  I pulled my boots on and gathered up my purse.

  “Call me tomorrow, partner,” she said sleepily.

  “Don’t go losing your phone again,” I said, as I switched off her lamp.

  All her neighbors must have been sleeping, too. The apartment complex was hushed and dim as I let myself out. I drove home on quiet, desolate streets, lost in thought. Why had I flipped out today over the fanciful idea that Farrah had been kidnapped? It must have been because of all the weird things happening lately, all the violations to my peace of mind. I was wound so tightly, it was probably inevitable that I would snap.

  I yawned as I pulled up in front of my town house. Maybe I’d skip going into the office tomorrow. What I needed was a vacation. I’d love nothing more than to pack my bags and hit the open road with Wes. We could head west to Nebraska and visit my family, then veer north and go all the way out to Washington to see Wes’s brother. We’d be gone for weeks. There’s nothing like travel to clear the mind and put life’s worries in their proper perspective.

  If only Deputy Langham hadn’t ordered me not to leave the county.

  Thinking of the dogged officer made me want to escape all the more. I drove past my house to the end of the block and circled around to the narrow alley in back. I usually parked on the street, because it was quicker, but tonight I decided to put the car in the garage. I angled the car inside, cut the engine, and pressed the garage door remote to lower the door behind me. The moment I stepped out of the car, I knew something was wrong. There was an acrid odor in the air that shouldn’t have been there.

  When I stepped out of the garage into the backyard, it was unmistakable. Something was burning. I looked first to the St. Johns’ empty house, which I was supposed to be keeping an eye on while they were out of town. There was nothing to see there. A fat pine tree blocked the view of my own house. With a mounting sense of dread, I made my way up the stone walkway through my backyard. As soon as I rounded the tree, I froze in horror. Billowing smoke and jagged flames filled my vision. My house was on fire!

  The sound of sirens snapped me into action. I couldn’t imagine who had called the fire department—all the homes on my block were dark. But I was grateful. Now I wouldn’t have to waste time calling 9-1-1. My only thought was to rescue Josie.

  I lifted my shirt over my mouth and nose and rushed to get a closer look. It was hard to see through the thick smoke, but I was pretty sure the fire was confined to the deck. The house itself wasn’t on fire. Yet.

  There was no space between the townhomes, so I had to run back to the garage, down the alley, and around the corner to get to the front of the house. The sirens were louder now. The thought crossed my mind that I should stay outside and direct the firefighters to the rear, but as they peeled down the street, they already seemed to know where to go. My keys were still in my hand, so I unlocked the door and went inside.

  “Josie!” I flipped on the lights and looked around. The smell of smoke was strong, but it was still outside. “Josie!” I repeated.

  Her loud mew came from upstairs. I ran for the staircase and stopped as she appeared at the top of the stairs. “Come here, kitty. Are you okay?”


  She mewed again, then started down the stairs, her tail hanging low. I could tell she was nervous. Before she reached the bottom, she surprised me by jumping into my arms. I caught her neatly. “Oh, you poor thing. You must have been so scared.”

  I stroked her head, as I turned to head for the back door. Before I reached it, there was a pounding on the patio door.

  “Coming!” I turned on the outside light, fumbled with the latch, and slid open the glass doors. I found myself face-to-face with a tall, burly fireman, who directed a penetrating gaze at me. I couldn’t tell if the expression on his ruddy face betrayed concern or irritation.

  “Everybody all right in here?”

  “Yes. Just shaken a bit.”

  “Well, the fire’s out now. You the one who called it in?”

  “Who, me? No.” I looked past him at the mess. The deck was covered in white foam and ash. The patio chairs were blackened, and my potted plants were burnt to a crisp. In the middle of it all was a dented silver garbage can. I looked at the can in some confusion. It should have been at the rear of the yard next to the garage.

  The fireman unzipped his reflective, yellow jacket and reached inside for a black notebook. “Mind if I come in for a minute? I’m Captain Blake.”

  I glanced at the deck again and nodded. Another firefighter, younger but equally burly, was shining a spotlight on the garbage can, while a third man hauled gear through my yard to a red fire engine idling in the alley. I hoped they hadn’t trampled my garden too badly.

  Stepping aside, I invited Captain Blake to have a seat at the table in the breakfast nook near the patio doors. Josie squirmed in my arms, so I set her down. She darted away, presumably for one of her many hiding places. I couldn’t say I blamed her.

  “Name, please.”

  “Keli Milanni. Can I offer you something to drink, Captain? A glass of water?”

  “No, thank you. This your home?” I nodded, and he asked the next question on his list. “Does anyone else live here?”