by Teresa Trent
“Check the store,” I said to Leo as I held the phone. “Bunny was just with him. Make sure she’s all right.”
“You say Bunny was with the victim? Is she still there?” Beckwith asked.
“We’re checking.”
“I have an ambulance on the way.”
Leo bounded in through the back door. “Bunny?” he called out. “Are you in here?”
I picked up Mark’s wrist and checked his pulse but couldn’t feel anything. His eyes were closed, and his head listed to the left. Deep red blood puddled on one side of the body, and I took note of where my feet were and stepped carefully back to avoid getting blood on my canvas shoes, or contaminating the crime scene. Someone had slit his throat and left him to die in the alley. From the amount of blood on the pavement, and the location of the cut, it had to have been his carotid artery. With that deep of a cut, death wouldn’t take long.
Leo was breathless as he returned to the alley. “Bunny isn’t in the store. We can only hope she got away from whoever did this.”
“Are you okay, darlin’?” My father ran into the alley behind me. He was followed closely by his partner, Lieutenant Boyle, our big-city transplant. Boyle immediately approached the body.
“I’m fine. We were running down the alley and Leo tripped over…Mark.”
Dad tipped his Stetson back. “Is that the muscle store guy?”
“Yes.”
“What’s sticking out of his neck?”
“Glass,” Boyle said as he leaned closer.
I nodded. “I think it’s from one of the broken bottles of liquid vitamins he sells.”
My father surveyed the area, now small particles of glass glistening where the sun was cutting in through the open back door of the shop. “How did all these bottles get broken?”
Leo shook his head, his elbows at right angles against the doorframe. “Bunny Donaldson. When we came through here earlier, she was shouting the evils of his products and broke a bunch of empty glass bottles.”
“It really was a shame because Mark kept a tidy alley,” I added.
My father made a face I had seen many times. He was zoning in on a crime scene. It was like he was seeing the act of murder replayed in his mind—or at least that was what he told me it was like. “Uh huh.”
Orley Ortiz, one of two ambulance drivers employed by the city, parked at the end of the alley, and began to unload his gurney. My dad raised a hand. “No need to hurry. Mr. Valencia has passed.”
Spotting me, Orley said, “Hey, Betsy.” He turned back to my dad and gave him a knowing smile. “With your daughter on the scene, I guess I should have known.” He flashed me a look, humor in his dark brown eyes. I was so happy my bad luck in finding bodies had become a running gag at the fire station.
On the park side of the alley, a crowd had begun to gather, and at the front, Sarah Butler looked pale as Vic held her. Belinda Donaldson, ticket book in hand, stretched her neck out slightly to get a better view.
“What happened?” Vic asked. “And what’s that smell?”
“Wild strawberry liquid vitamins. Someone slit Mark Valencia’s throat,” I informed him. Sarah placed her hand over her mouth and looked away.
Ruby stepped in from behind Vic, lifting her visor as she took in the scene only a few feet away. “Good Lord, what’s that sticking out of his neck?”
“Glass. He was murdered,” Sarah whispered. “There’s only one person around here who would do a thing like that. Where’s Bunny Donaldson? She hated Mark almost as much as she hates me.”
“Now, don’t go blaming people. It’s way too early for speculation,” Dad said.
Belinda stepped closer to Sarah and glared at her. “He’s right. My sister wouldn’t do that. You need to think twice about making accusations in front of the whole town.”
“That woman has killed him. I tell you, it was her,” Sarah said, her tone now more emphatic.
“Shh,” Vic whispered in Sarah’s ear as if she were a small child. “We should go and let the police do their jobs.”
My father turned toward the crowd. “Did anybody see anything?”
His glance immediately shifted to me. “We didn’t see anything, but Bunny Donaldson was back here having a temper tantrum throwing bottles around and threatening to tell off Mark.”
“Yes. She was accusing Mark of selling steroids. When we left her, she was going into the shop to have it out with him,” Leo added.
My dad scratched at his ear and thought for a moment. “With all due respect, Belinda, your sister Bunny is as crazy as a loon, but I don’t think she would actually kill somebody.” He began to mumble to himself. “The craziness that comes with this hunt gets worse every year.” He turned back to the crowd. “I’ll be sure and question her, though.”
“I should think so,” Sarah said.
Vic Butler questioned, “Does anybody know where Bunny is? Has anyone seen her? Belinda?”
“I have no idea where she is,” Belinda answered.
“The last contact we had with Bunny was when we heard her in the shop,” I said. “After we found Mark’s body, Leo went into the shop to see if Bunny was in there. He was afraid the killer might have gone after her, but there was no sign of her.”
My dad directed Boyle, “Go by Bunny’s house and see if she’s home.”
“I’ll go with you,” Belinda said.
“You’re going to Bunny’s house?” Rocky asked as he bit his lower lip.
My dad cast a look of frustration toward the town’s newspaper editor. “That’s what I said, didn’t I? You have a problem with that?”
“No,” Rocky answered. “Just asking as a member of the press.”
Prim stepped forward. “Judd, do you need me back on the switchboard?”
“Well, I can’t deny it would be a comfort to have you there, but you deserve a chance at the golden pecan just as much as everyone else.”
“You know I put the safety of this town before anything. I’ll just check in on Beckwith and see if he needs any help. If he does, I can send Mr. Thatcher on the hunt by himself. It only takes one person to find the golden pecan.”
My father nodded. “Thanks, Mrs. Thatcher.”
“Do you need me, Dad?” I asked.
“You can probably move on, but before you do, can you tell me the exact time that you saw Bunny going off to confront Mark?”
I looked at Leo. “I would say it was about forty-five minutes ago.”
Dad studied his watch. “That would be at 1:15 p.m.”
“Yes.”
“Hmm. He’s a pretty big guy, and she’s little, and that would give her about twenty minutes to commit the murder and skedaddle out of here without anyone noticing. A woman taking down a man can take double the time of a man-to-man fight. From what I can tell, he was stabbed here in the alley, possibly in the doorway. The blood spatter tells me he died here.”
I looked around. The neatly stacked boxes were now scattered across the alley, and there was one smaller box that had been ripped open and discarded. Even though Bunny had been throwing bottles, I didn’t see her throwing down an empty box like that and then just leaving it behind.
“Does this mean the hunt for the golden pecan is canceled? Damn.” Surprisingly, Ruby still stood in the alley. Maggie wasn’t there, and neither was Danny. I guessed Maggie must have taken Danny elsewhere so he wouldn’t see the body.
Rocky stepped closer and took a quick picture and then turned to the gathered citizens. “No. The hunt is not off. Please feel free to mill about all the top-notch businesses in the downtown area, but the alley is now officially off-limits. There wasn’t anything here anyway.”
Even though Leo and I had started our journey down the alley running, we now walked out to the park to find the next clue box.
Aunt Maggie joined us when we re-entered the street. “Where is Danny?” I asked.
“The minute we heard something was going on down here, we sent him to the library with his chapter book. He
has his phone with him and has been told to stay there. Cora Jean, the librarian, is watching over him.”
“I’m glad to hear you have it covered. Danny couldn’t take seeing this.”
“You’re telling me,” Maggie said, catching up to me.
“Don’t suppose you saw which way Rocky went?” Ruby asked.
“I heard him say he was going to try and hang around Bunny’s house if Boyle found her. I think, now that he has a picture, he might try to run back to the Gazette office to get the story into the computer.”
“Then I’ll just peek over his shoulder.” She turned to Maggie. “Come on, Maggie. The hunt is back on.”
“If you say so,” Maggie answered.
They took off in the other direction, and as soon as they were out of sight, Leo and I ran to a small yellow flag at the back of the gazebo. Because Libby had funded the restoration of the structure, it was now called the Charlie Loper Gazebo. That was how it tied into the clue. The old-fashioned, white raised octagonal stage was used by the local volunteer band in the summer, where they would play strains of anything from “Achy Breaky Heart” to “The Orange Blossom Special.” At Christmas time, Santa held court each Saturday in December. As we ran to the box, I noticed Stan and Howard. They had caught sight of our haste and began to follow us. Stan was a cross-country runner and quickly outpaced Leo and me.
“It’s over here, Howard!” Stan grabbed a yellow envelope, and Leo grabbed ours.
Howard, who was many years older than all of us, ran up, hands on his knees, panting. “Good job, Stan.”
“I had a feeling there was something here.” I knew that Howard was referring to a sixth sense or extrasensory perception (ESP), neither of which he had.
“It’s easier than that. When Betsy and Leo go running across a field, there must be something there.” Stan grabbed his camera from his bag and began to film Leo as he held up the poem.
“Read it for us, Leo,” Stan said. “You’re used to reading off a script.”
Even though Leo did do a short stint as a weatherman at NUTV, he still was not all that comfortable on camera. His eyes searched out mine, and I nodded as if to say go ahead, you can do this.
Leo began to read.
You’re getting closer,
Yes, you are.
This calls for a drink
At a favorite Pecan Bayou bar.
Chapter 6
Howard cocked his head to the side. “Hmmm, a bar. Well, that narrows it down to the only two within the city limits. Which one?”
I pointed in the direction of the closest bar. “We’ll take Goin’ Nuts, and you guys take Bubba’s Beer.”
“Maybe we should take Goin’ Nuts,” Howard said, raising his slightly sunburned nose in the air. “How can we be sure you don’t know something we don’t, working with Rocky and all?”
“Okay,” I sighed. “We’ll take Bubba’s.” It didn’t matter to me.
Howard put a hand to his chin. “And how do I know that maybe you didn’t trick me into going there all along? The old reverse psychology ploy.”
Stan grabbed Howard’s arm. “Enough, Dr. Deduction. We’ll take Bubba’s.”
As they walked off, Howard said, “Good call. I knew she was up to something.”
“Good luck,” I called out.
We walked toward Goin’ Nuts, the bar named after Pecan Bayou’s only cash crop. Leo opened the door for me, but I backed up.
“Let’s look around the outside of the bar first. Maybe there’s a clue in an empty box like last year.”
After circling the building to look for any visible golden clue boxes, Leo shook his head. “I don’t see anything, do you?”
“Nope.”
We stepped inside the murky pub lit only by neon Lone Star beer signs. The refreshing burst of air conditioning tempered the smell of stale beer that hit me when we entered. We found Salty Collins cleaning off the bar.
“What can I get you?” Salty asked.
Leo stepped forward. “Uh, we’re looking for the golden pecan.”
Salty scowled. “Are you now? We have plenty of gold here, but it’s liquid—on tap.”
I straightened a bowl of nuts that was precariously situated on the edge of the bar. “Sorry. I just wanted to straighten that out. It only takes a minute to make your business look appealing. So, you’re saying there are no clue boxes hidden here?”
Salty held up both hands. “Do you see any clue boxes?”
“Not immediately.” We did a visual scan of the entire bar. When we were satisfied there was nothing there, Leo and I started for the door.
“I told you,” Salty called after us. “Next time, order a beer and don’t waste my time.”
“I’ll bet Howard and Stan found it,” I said. As the sunlight hit our eyes, the Thatchers came running across the parking lot.
Mrs. Thatcher extended a hand and waved a finger at us. “See, I told you. Betsy and Leo are there already.”
Josiah stopped to catch his breath. “Calm yourself. We’ll find it.”
I realized Leo was still holding the yellow envelope from the last clue, and there was a chance the Thatchers thought we’d found a new clue at the bar. Now I found myself in a moral dilemma. I had known Prim since I was a small child and had memories of her giving me lemon drops from her desk drawer. She had been nothing but kind to me, but was this the time to tell her the truth or simply let her believe the wrong information?
Not my finest hour.
As we ran away from Goin’ Nuts and headed toward Bubba’s, we crossed paths with Ruby and Aunt Maggie, and not wanting to stop, gave them a quick wave. Ruby stepped forward, ending the friendly exchange. “You have another clue. You’re ahead of us. You should share it.”
“Fair is fair, Ruby,” Leo said. “You’ve got to find the clues on your own. Just go back through the first clue and figure it out.”
Ruby scowled. “So, that’s how it’s going to be. Every man and woman for themselves. Fine, but when I’m drinking those Mai Tais watching the moonlight on the sea, you can bet I won’t be thinking of you.”
“I find great comfort in that,” Leo said grabbed my hand and steered us away. “Come on Betsy, let’s keep moving.”
It did seem unfair not to help them just a little bit. “I’ll give you a hint. Turn around and go back the direction you came.” Ruby looked back at the park.
“You mean Rocky would do something as lame as hiding a clue in the middle of the park? The central meeting place of the town? I swear this contest is for amateurs.”
They ran off in the other direction while Leo and I made our way back to the second bar. This establishment catered more to millennials, so it was generally cleaner and less creepy, but still no clue box. When we came out, Stan and Howard were sitting at an outdoor table with two tall glasses of lemonade in front of them.
“No luck,” Stan muttered. “I thought for sure it would be here. It’s getting too hot to search. The temperature is close to 100.”
“Are there any other bars around here?” I was beginning to feel tired from running and sat down at the table next to them.
Howard snapped his fingers—he’d had a revelation. “They sell liquor in the grocery store!”
“Could be,” Stan took a drink of his lemonade. The conversation stalled, and then after gulping down the remainder of their drinks, the other team took off without a word.
“Yeah, I don’t think it’s the grocery store either,” Leo said as he took a seat next to me. He pulled out the clue. “Go to the bar and have a drink. The only problem is we’re fresh out of bars.”
“What other kind of bar is there?”
“Candy bar?”
That was a good idea, but in this heat, setting up a clue that wouldn’t melt would be difficult. “I have no idea.” Leo’s stomach grumbled. “I could use a little lunch. Maybe filling our stomach will help to fill our heads.”
When we got to Benny’s Barbecue, I pulled out my phone to text the boys. I
needed to make sure they would remember to get Coco some lunch. Deciding this was something close to a date, Leo and I went all-out and ordered milkshakes. Leo’s head was bent over the yellow clue paper as he tried to figure out what the poem really meant. As the restaurant started filling up, it was obvious we weren’t the only ones who were stuck. A couple of booths over the Thatchers were digging into salads. Vic and Sarah Butler sat down at the table next to our booth. Sarah still looked in shock, and Vic got up to use the men’s room. I looked over and smiled at her.
“Are you doing okay?”
She grabbed her napkin and dabbed at the back of her neck. “Not really. Has your father arrested Bunny for the murder yet? I’ll be glad to get that woman off the street. It could be me next, you know.”
Her soft dulcet tones reminded me of Marilyn Monroe. She gave a little squeak and took a bite of her sandwich.
“Do you really think Bunny is capable of such a thing? She makes no bones about her complaints, but she seems harmless to me.”
Sarah looked up, blue eyeliner encircling her eyes. “Not to me. It’s just there’s been so much death in Pecan Bayou lately, what with Poppy going over the bridge and all.”
Benny came over with our waters and then rushed off to take care of another customer. Leo took a sip and then asked Sarah, “Can I ask why you and Bunny don’t get along?”
“I’m not exactly sure. She’s made some pretty wild claims about me. Not just the way I dress and look. She thinks I’m fake, but I think she blames me for something more.”
Leo set his glass down. “What?”
“I don’t want to go into it right now. But once Bunny gets onto something, she can’t let go. Look at poor Mark. She decided he was poisoning people with the fitness products he sold. I just can’t believe he was doing anything illegal. Although I heard he was doing some pretty fast business.”
