by Deany Ray
I pulled up to the small brick building and walked into a sparsely furnished area that served as a reception room. A rail-thin woman sat behind a desk. She looked somewhat familiar. Had she gone to high school with me? Most likely she had. Most of my former classmates were still in town, raising families of their own. I let her know that I had come for an appointment with Chief Snow. I glanced down at my watch: three minutes early, which was perfect. This job felt important, and I was determined to do everything just right.
Just then, an office door flew open and I heard the sound of laughter coming from the room. Graywell stepped out into the reception area and nodded curtly when he noticed me standing there. “I just finished things up with the chief,” he said. “But since you’re here, let’s step in for just a second and I’ll introduce you.” He ushered me into a large office. “Hey Patrick, this is Charlie,” he said to a man behind a desk. “Not sure if Kingsley mentioned it? That he was sending along a girl?”
Somehow, I didn’t like the way he said, “a girl.”
“Yes, along with a boy,” I countered and was met by Graywell’s staring glance.
Snow looked up and smiled. “Charlie, yes. Great to see you, Charlie. I understand that you grew up right here in our fair city.”
“Yes, sir. And I’m very glad to be here. I’m glad that I can help.”
“Well, I think we’ve got things all worked out, me and Graywell here.” He looked down at some papers on his desk as if, in his mind, he’d moved on already to the next part of his day.
“I was told to report at noon, sir. Any…thing that I should know?”
“Just do what Kingsley told you, and if you come up with any questions, you can always go to Graywell.” The chief looked up at me once again, this time with concern. “And be careful. These drug dealers that we’re up against can be some scary kind of folks.” He frowned as if he were sending a toddler to take down the Mafia. Then he smiled. “You’ve come home just in time. The big fair is coming up. The ladies really love it.”
The fair? The ladies? Was he kidding me? I was getting irritated.
“I’m here to do a job, sir.” Kingsley, after all, was counting on my help. “If the perpetrators are in Springston, I’ll do my best to find them.”
I caught the two men glancing at each other. Was there a chuckle in their eyes? I hoped the dealers were in town, doing whatever dealers do, right there beneath our noses. Because that meant I could catch them and show these guys a thing or two. Never mind that I didn’t know the first thing about drug investigations.
Outside the police station, I turned to face Graywell. “Okay, catch me up. Anything else he wants us to do besides what we got from Kingsley?” We both looked around to make sure no one was listening.
Graywell ran his hand through his thick shock of gray and blondish hair. “Just go and visit with your friends. Catch up with your family.”
“Since I’m on assignment, I don’t think the only thing to do is visit with my friends. Tell me what Snow told you.” I gave him a hard look. “Kingsley put me on this case too. He didn’t just send you. That meeting was for both of us.” Despite the anger that I felt, I made sure to talk in a quiet voice.
“Look, Cooper, I’ve got things to do.” He fished his car keys from his pocket. “That’s why I moved the meeting up. I need to get started. This case is high priority for the DEA.”
“And that’s why the captain sent me too.”
He stared me down. “I’ve got a plan. It’s dangerous. And I don’t need your help.”
I stared right back. “Kingsley thinks that you do.”
He lowered his voice. “We shouldn’t talk about this here. Somebody could be listening. And look, it’s cute you want to help. But you could get hurt. Real bad.”
Cute? Did he say cute?
“You don’t say?” I asked in mock surprise. “I had no idea that fighting crime could be dangerous. I guess detectives everywhere should turn their guns in right this minute. Because, oooh, someone could hurt them. They should hurry home and pour themselves a great big glass of milk and curl up with a blankie where they will be safe.” I gave him a hard look. “Give me the info, Graywell.”
He looked at me, shocked at this new side of the quiet girl that sat in her cubicle everyday, pounding away at her computer.
“So,” I said. I was trying for a tone that was stern, authoritative. Anything but cute. “What else do I need to know?”
He looked anxiously toward his Honda like he had somewhere else to be. Guess he had to leave the BMW back in Boston. It didn’t look like anything that a barber would drive to his new job in Springston. I noticed he’d changed his look as well to go undercover. His khakis weren’t perfectly ironed, and scuffed boots had replaced his high-end dress shoes. He looked less like an uptight stuffy jerk and more like a regular person. He turned toward his car.
I was determined he wasn’t about to get out of there so fast. “Give me the update, Graywell. Since you decided it was okay to have the meeting without me there.”
He sighed. “Fine. There’s something you should know. And it’s the reason why I think these guys aren’t playing games and why we need to be prudent.”
“What did Snow say to you?”
He hesitated. “You know about the driver? In custody in Boston?
“Kingsley filled me in.”
“They let him out on bail.”
“Okay…”
“And two hours later, he was dead.”
“Oh…”
Dead. That did seem dangerous.
I took a good deep breath. “I’m heading to the diner,” I said in a small voice. “I’ll report in on what I find.”
The job suddenly seemed less exciting than before.
Chapter Three
Ten minutes later I pulled into Jack’s Diner, home of the greatest coffee in all of Massachusetts. But my heart was beating way too fast already. I didn’t need caffeine.
I tried to process what I’d heard. These people weren’t taking any chances. If they’d killed the driver—who, according to the captain, “didn’t know a thing”—what would they do to me if I overhead a detail they’d prefer I didn’t know?
Deep breath, I told myself. I was really hoping that if I did good work, it would mean a big promotion. Besides, detectives had to be brave. Very brave. I knew I wasn’t really a detective, but fancying being one felt good.
As I walked into the diner, the lunch hour was in full swing; the sounds of laughter and conversation hit me along with the air conditioning.
A woman with soft, round curves hurried over, smiling like she’d known me all my life. “Welcome to Jack’s,” she said in a mouse-like voice. “Tables are all full, but I can find you a spot at the counter. How do you take your coffee? Refills are always free.”
“No coffee for me, thank you. I just came by to talk to Jack. Do you know where I can find him?” I had to look down as I talked. She only came up to my shoulder.
She nodded to a customer as if to let him know she’d be there in just a minute. “I think Mr. Cooper is in his office, hon.”
“Okay, I’ll head on up. I’m his daughter, Charlie.”
“Charlie! You don’t say!” Her hand flew to her chest. “He talks about you all the time: his daughter out in Boston and how she works with the police.” She used a reverent, hushed tone to say the last two words. “He’s just so proud. So proud.” With that, she peered up at me as if I were the queen of the world come to town. “I don’t believe this. Charlie Cooper in the flesh.”
That was quite a welcome, considering that my skills pretty much consisted of answering the phone in a pleasant voice and typing emails really fast.
“I’m sure he’ll be down in just a minute. I think he’s talking to suppliers. Why don’t you sit down at the counter, hon? How would you like a big piece of the most fabulous caramel cake? People say it’s the best.”
I thought about it for a minute. How many cookies had I eaten just tha
t very morning? But…cake! And caramel! “That sounds delightful.”
“Would you like some coffee with it?”
“Decaf, please. With lots of cream.” I couldn’t believe what I was saying. I laughed at other people when I heard them order decaf. Because, really, what’s the point? But my heart was racing. Guess a lot of things were different—your coffee order, even—when you traded your desk job in for something more exciting.
I watched as the waitress moved from one table to another. She teased one man about a haircut. “You’re looking kind of fancy. Trying to impress some new girl, I suppose.” She told another that she’d heard about his new promotion. “That will get you a free refill.” She poured more coffee into his mug. “Refills are always free at Jack’s.” The man laughed, then took a sip.
Soon she was at the counter with a slice of cake so huge it almost covered up the plate. “You enjoy that,” she said. “Oh my, that looks good. I think I’ll get myself a piece when my shift is through.” A quick glance at her nametag revealed her name was Marge.
She slid a mug in front of me. “Better go hide a piece for me somewhere in the back. Or this baby will be all gone before I can have a taste.” She erupted into giggles; it was a pleasant sound. I really liked this Marge.
“Hey, Celeste, get over here,” she called out to another waitress.
A woman—with the brightest orange hair I’d ever seen—looked our way and nodded. She finished writing down an order then sauntered over to the counter.
“I hope you’re not calling me over here to gossip,” she said. “You know it’s the lunch rush.” She worked her heavily lipsticked mouth around a wad a gum. She was as tall, as Marge was short. They made quite a pair. Her hair was stacked so high that I wondered if it would topple if she walked too fast.
“Look who we have right here. Right here at my counter.” Marge nodded proudly toward me.
Celeste gave me a curious look.
“It’s Charlie Cooper! All the way from Boston. Jack’s daughter. From the police.”
“Well, I’ll be.” Celeste smiled. “We have certainly heard all about you, Charlie Cooper.” She turned around to take two plates from the window that separated the dining room from the kitchen. She frowned down at the orders and returned them to their places. “Salad dressing on the side,” she said. “And Sam Burns wanted his burger to come without lettuce or tomato.” She rolled her eyes. “And hurry it up in there. He needs to get out of here for a doctor’s appointment at two.”
“All right, all right, just chill,” a male voice came from the kitchen.
“Do your job in there, babe. We’re here to work, not chill.”
I decided that I liked her too. She told people what she thought. Next time my friend Graywell decided to be a pain, I’d stop and ask myself what Celeste would say. She’d stick her long and polished fingernails right up in his face; she wouldn’t take his nonsense.
Once I finished my snack, I headed up the stairs to say hello to Dad. I could hear his booming laughter when I was halfway up the steps. Life was always a party for my father, even if he was in his office ordering supplies or looking over bills.
I peeked into his open door. He was on the phone with his feet up on his desk. He grinned and waved me in. “I’ve got to go, Al,” he said into the phone. “I’ve got an important visitor by the name of Charlie Cooper.” He listened for a moment. “Oh yes, we are excited to have our girl in town.”
He wrapped me in a big hug. “I’ve missed you, honey,” he said. “And your mother tells me that we get to keep you longer than one day. Will wonders never cease?”
“Yeah, I thought I’d hang around. I’ve missed the cooking here at Jack’s.”
He grinned. “Best burgers in the state. Yeah, hang out here with your old Dad. I’ll keep the coffee coming.”
That’s when I wondered, for the first time, if I could really pull this off: hanging at the diner, making friends, hoping to pick up on some magic nugget of information to offer up to Kingsley. It wasn’t a thing I did well, making conversation with a bunch of strangers. Heck, I was super awkward even when I had to talk to people that I knew. I was not a people person. I was a Netflix person. A paperback-mystery girl. The captain really should have given me tips on how to make this work.
As I headed back into the dining room, I almost collided with a guy who turned a corner way too fast with a plate of fries. He had on a long, white coat so I guessed he was a cook.
“Hey! Watch out where you’re going,” he said in a startled tone.
Hey, wait a minute. Me? He was the one who was walking ninety miles a minute without a care in the world about who he would go careening into.
Then he broke into a grin. “Or I take that back.” He looked me up and down. “I think I’d enjoy colliding into you.”
And now he was flirting? This guy had some nerve.
I got a better look. Whoa, this guy was hot. He was tall with deep blue eyes, and his brown hair looked so soft. I wanted to reach out and touch the silky bangs that fell down into his eyes. Calm down, Charlie. Easy.
My parents were always anxious for me to come home more often. They might just get their wish. This guy could be their ticket.
After he had strolled away, I looked up to see Celeste watching me with a grin. “He’s a looker, huh? All the ladies think so. That’s our fry cook, Alex Cole. Hasn’t been here long.”
By then, things had slowed down in the diner. Marge was wiping off a nearby booth. “Hey, Charlie,” she called out. “Do you have any plans tonight?
“Just hanging around the house, I guess.” Watching my brother watch TV. Hoping that my mother didn’t break out into a chant to cure my “bad energy.” Shoot me now, I thought.
“Come out with us tonight. There’s a festival downtown.” Celeste put on a pot of coffee. I shouldn’t be surprised. Springston could think of a million reasons to throw a party complete with music, booths, and food.
In September, for example, the town turned out in droves to mark the date the Mayflower had set sail. Children built colorful toy boats and tried them out in Clara Lake. On July 1 the town all gathered for the Halfway festival, which marked the midpoint of the year. A kind of Happy New Year Take Two. Vendors sold halves of hamburgers, half hotdogs and cookies halves. Businesses gave employees a half day off or held elaborate half-price sales.
There was a festival that night, even though it was a Monday. As far as Springston was concerned, any night of the week was a great night for a party. And for me, it was a reason to escape the house on Arden Way. Plus, I could do some mingling. After all, that was the reason I’d come home.
I told the girls I would meet them downtown at seven, thank you very much.
***
At home, I decided I might as well get down to work. I started with my mom. “We’ve been so busy this past week,” I said. “The crime rate’s way up in Boston.” I tried to keep it casual. “But Springston always seemed so safe. I guess that hasn’t changed.”
“You know, some of my clients worry about that kind of thing. They’ll come into class and tell me that someone took their watch the week before, or their mother’s pearls.”
“Really? Thefts are up?” Could this be a clue? Could the two things be related?
My mother waved the thought away. “I don’t think so, sweetheart. These are older folks. Most of them, that is. And most often the “stolen” property turns up in a drawer.” She smiled. “But exercise is good for keeping their minds sharp. My ladies are working so hard to keep their bodies limber.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “And to find their inner peace.”
She kept her eyes shut tightly and was silent for a moment as if the inner peace had snuck in and lulled her almost to sleep. Then she snapped out of her trance and smiled. “You should try it. Maybe you’ll see an improvement with your energy.” She whispered the last two words like I had some kind of embarrassing health thing, like maybe diarrhea.
We baked su
gar cookies, cut them into shapes, and added sprinkles as if I was five years old. But who cared? I had a good time. It was only after I cut my cookies into hearts did I realize it. Was that supposed to mean something?
My mom made her cookies into the shape of fish. “Because my moon’s in Pisces,” she said, outlining a fish tail with blue icing.
I took a plate of cookies into the den and shared the treats with Brad who had taped the latest series he was watching. While he fast forwarded through commercials, I tried to ask about his life. Long ago I’d developed a system for interpreting his grunts. There was the “hmmmm” that meant things were good, the “humph” that meant bad news, and the “ummmm” that meant he didn’t know. Most of the time, he didn’t know.
Later I met some of my mother’s students as I was heading out the door to meet the girls. It was a bit of unfortunate timing, or—as Brad would put it—humph.
I put on my friendliest smile as they offered congratulations on my job in Boston. Years after I’ve been there. What exactly had my parents told people that I did?
“I went to Boston once,” one lady said proudly. “In nineteen-eighty-two. I saw My Fair Lady.”
I made the mental observation that the older my mother’s students were, the brighter the lipstick and leotards. The foyer was a rainbow of patterns from shimmery purple to leopard prints. My mother was trying to get them focused on the task at hand as she shooed them outside.
“Think calm thoughts, ladies,” she called out. Then she began to chant. “Ommm.”
***
It didn’t take long to find Marge and Celeste at the Clam Chowder Festival. I just looked for a tower of bright orange hair sticking up above the crowd. It took a while to make my way over to them. The downtown streets were packed; Springston loved their festivals. Vendors called out to me to try my luck at throwing darts at red balloons or throwing rings around a bottle.
