The Lunatic Detective

by Sharon Sala

  Tara sighed. “Flynn and I are going bowling.”

  “That’s great,” he said.

  Tara shrugged. “You don’t think it’s weird? I mean, I’m going out with Flynn and you’re dating his Mom?”

  Pat frowned. “I fail to see the problem. I’m just taking a woman to dinner. We’re not getting married. Flynn’s not going to turn into your step-brother overnight.”

  “Ew! Ew! I hope not!” Tara cried. “How wrong would that be? All of us living under the same roof?”

  Pat hugged her. “Honey, that is so far down the road of ever happening that you need to calm down. Dinner and a movie is not forever after, okay?”

  Tara sighed. “Yeah, okay.”

  “So, I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Kick back and take a good rest. I’ve got the back yard all cleaned up, but I’ve been thinking about putting in a small mum garden. You know . . . they’re colorful and hardy and good to plant this time of year. Why don’t you poke around and figure out a good place for us to plant them?”

  Tara immediately thought of DeeDee. “Great idea, Uncle Pat. I’ll do that.”

  He tweaked the end of her nose, then winked. “Okay. I’m leaving now. Later gator.”

  Tara rolled her eyes as he got in the car and drove away. Uncle Pat was a hoot with his funny old-time sayings.

  Where are you planning to dig first?

  Tara rolled her eyes. “Here’s the deal, Millicent. It’s not like you can just start digging holes. Our landlord would toss us out for tearing stuff up.”

  Tara went back into the house and locked the door firmly behind her as Millicent continued.

  Then how are you going to find DeeDee?

  “I don’t know, okay? I’m going outside now, and if I’m real lucky, DeeDee will pop up, point her little ghostly finger and say ‘X marks the spot.’”

  As I have stated before, sarcasm does not become you.

  Tara sighed. Great start to her Saturday. She’d displaced some of Henry’s molecules, ticked Millicent off, and made DeeDee sad. And that was only the ghost side of her troubles. Uncle Pat had a date with Flynn’s mom. What if there was hugging and kissing involved? What if they actually hooked up?

  OMG. OMG.

  Her feet were dragging as she headed out the back door, then paused on the bottom porch step with her hands on her hips.

  “Okay. If I wanted to hide a body out here, where would it be?”

  A picture popped into her head and she realized it was another ‘postcard’ from DeeDee. Just as she started to dismiss it, she realized what she was seeing wasn’t what the back yard looked like now. It was different. Decidedly different. The back yard fence wasn’t chain link, it was wood, and roses were climbing up the trellises against it. There was a circle of irises around a birdhouse on a pole, and a vegetable garden in the far north end. And there were morning glory vines all over the side of a shed that was no longer here.

  OMG. DeeDee was showing her what the back yard used to look like.

  “Okay, DeeDee! I get it. Keep it coming. I see it. Trees. There were big shade trees. And before you showed me a pile of leaves. I remember. I remember.”

  Tara leaped off the step and started out across the yard, following the old stone path that wound through the yard. Now the path even made sense. It had led to different parts of the garden.

  As she walked, she couldn’t imagine the depths of depravity it would take to kill someone, let alone a member of your family. And even though she didn’t know who had killed DeeDee Broyles, her brother seemed the obvious culprit. He had denied ever having a sister, then broke into Tara’s house and was still stalking her. It wasn’t looking good for Emmit.

  She wondered what the prison system did with old men like him. Was there a senior citizens wing in the penitentiary? Did they still draw Social Security and get retirement checks? How weird was that?

  Tara was lost in thought as she followed the path, trying to figure out where someone could dig a hole big enough to hide a body and make sure no one found it when she realized she’d been looking at the answer all the time.

  The fence. It used to be tall. Wood. All around the yard. No one could see over. No one could see through.

  OMG. You could dig holes all over and no one would know it. You’d have all the time in the world to plant bushes or shrubs, or anything you wanted to hide the fact that earth had been overturned.

  She stopped, put her hands on her hips and turned around, looking back toward the house. Uncle Pat wanted her to find a place to plant some mums. She wanted to find a body. Both required digging holes. Piece of cake.

  Henry suddenly popped up in front of her, waving his hands.

  Tara frowned. “What’s up? Don’t tell me Millicent is making bubbles in the bathtub again? No? Uncle Pat? Something happened to Uncle Pat?”

  I think he’s trying to tell you someone’s coming down the alley.

  Millicent’s explanation wasn’t warning enough. Tara pivoted just in time to see a car coming down the alley between the houses. No one was supposed to drive through there except maybe city employees. Then she realized she’d seen that car before—and the man driving it.

  It was Emmit Broyles.

  Oh crap! He was doing it again. He was still stalking her.

  She started to run toward the house, when she realized it would give away the fact that she was scared of him. So far, Emmit didn’t know she was on to him. She remembered reading once that the best defense was an offense so she lifted her hand and started waving as she moved toward the alley.

  “Hi, Mr. Broyles,” she cried, and jogged toward the fence, as if expecting him to stop.

  The look on his face was priceless. His bushy white eyebrows shot upward as if someone had tied strings to them and given them a yank. He must have tried to stomp on the accelerator, but he was obviously distracted enough that he missed and stomped the brake instead.

  All of a sudden he was flying forward. His chin hit the steering wheel and the hat he’d been wearing shot off his head and landed on the dash.

  “Are you all right?” Tara yelled, as she neared the fence.

  Even though all the windows were up, she could tell he was cursing at the top of his voice. He grabbed his hat, shoved it back on his head. Ignoring the blood dripping from his chin, he finally found the accelerator and roared off down the alley.

  Tara grinned.

  I think that went well.

  Tara’s smile widened. “Yeah, it did, didn’t it?”

  She turned around to go back to the house only to realize DeeDee was standing right beside her.

  “Oh. Man. You did it again, didn’t you?” Tara asked.

  DeeDee disappeared.

  “So, obviously we’re not discussing this.”

  How would you feel if your brother was the one who ended your life?

  Tara’s smile died. “I never thought about that.”

  Because you never had a brother?

  “No. Because I didn’t think how DeeDee would take the news. I guess I just assumed they didn’t get along.”

  You know what they say about assume. It makes an—

  “Yes, yes, I know. An ass out of u and me. Very funny.”

  Tara heard the phone ring and sprinted toward the house. She was slightly out of breath when she answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Moon girl, I must be getting better by the minute. The mere sound of my voice has left you breathless.”

  Tara laughed out loud. “You are too funny,” she said. “I was in the back yard looking for . . . uh . . . I was in the back yard.”

  “So, are we still on for tonight?” Flynn asked.

  “Absolutely,” Tara said. “We’re going bowling, right?”

  “Yeah, unle
ss you’d rather do something else?”

  “No. No. I love to bowl. I’m not very good, but it’s fun.”

  “Good. How about some Hideaway pizza before we go?”

  “Oh, yum! I’ve heard they make the best.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Flynn said. “So I’ll pick you up about six, okay?”

  “Yes.”

  Tara started to hang up, then thought of his mom and her uncle. “Hey, Flynn?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you know your mom and Uncle Pat have a date tonight, too?”

  There was a moment of silence. Then a chuckle. “No, but I’m cool with it. Aren’t you?”

  “Oh, it’s not that. It’s just . . . kind of weird.”

  “You think too much, Moon girl. Let the old folks have their fun.”

  Tara laughed. “See you at six.”

  Chapter Two

  Tara was pumped. Uncle Pat had come back from shopping with a surprise for her—a new red and black knit top and a black hoodie to match. She tried it on immediately and squealed with delight that it fit.

  “Way to go, Uncle Pat,” Tara said, as she modeled it for him.

  Pat frowned as he eyed her. “Where did the years go? It seems like only yesterday that you were still learning how to tie your shoes.”

  Tara gave him a nervous glance. “You’re not gonna go and get all squishy on me, are you?”

  “No. Of course not,” he blustered, then sighed. “You just make sure that Flynn O’Mara keeps his hands to himself.”

  Tara was horrified by the turn in conversation and rolled her eyes. “Please. I know how to behave, okay?”

  “Did I question your behavior? No. I did not, thank you. I trust you, honey. I just don’t know that boy well enough to know if he’s trustworthy or not, and neither do you.”

  Tara sniffed with indignation. “Yes, well, the same could be said for you, too, you know.”

  “I’m sure, uh, it doesn’t mean . . . Oh. Never mind. I need to finish putting up groceries.”

  “And I need to wash my hair.”

  Agreeing to disagree on the subject of the O’Mara family, they went their separate ways.

  A few hours later, Mona and Flynn were at the door. Pat left in his car with Mona, leaving the O’Mara vehicle for Flynn and Tara to use.

  “That was weird, sending them off on their date as if we were the parents and they were the kids,” Tara said, as Flynn slid behind the wheel and started his car.

  He grinned. “Kinda. But I have to admit, it’s good to see my Mom happy again.”

  Tara nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Uncle Pat hasn’t done this in ages. Maybe since I was thirteen or fourteen.”

  Flynn gave her an appreciative look. “I don’t know how you looked at that age, but you’re dang hot now, Moon girl. Nice outfit.”

  Tara grinned and made a mental note to thank Uncle Pat again for her new clothes. “Thanks.”

  Flynn pulled out into traffic, then gave her hand a quick squeeze.

  “Hope you’re hungry.”

  “Starving,” Tara said.

  In my day, we never admitted to being hungry.

  Tara frowned and gave Millicent a silent warning. ,OMG Millicent! We are not doing this. Get lost.

  Don’t worry. He’ll never know I’m here.

  But I will.

  Yes. Well. There is that.

  Tara stifled a snort. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Millicent and Uncle Pat were in cahoots about her dating.

  “What’s your favorite kind?” Flynn asked.

  Tara blinked. She’d been so focused on her mental argument with Millicent, it took her a few seconds to shift gears. “Um . . . of pizza, you mean?”

  Flynn arched an eyebrow. “Well, yeah. What else would I be talking about?”

  Dang it, Millicent! See what you do to me? She shrugged and smiled at Flynn. “I don’t know. I’m just being silly. As for pizza favs, I only like two kinds.”

  Flynn frowned like he hadn’t expected her to be picky. “Okay. So, what are those?”

  “Hot pizza and cold pizza,” Tara said, and then grinned at the expression on Flynn’s face.

  “I set myself up for that, didn’t I?” Flynn said. “But that’s good, because those are my favorite kinds, too.”

  A short while later, they were walking into The Hideaway. Like Eskimo Joe’s, it was something of a Stillwater landmark. And Tara could tell from the banging in the kitchen and the low buzz of conversations from the hungry patrons, things were hopping.

  “Yum,” Tara said, as Flynn guided them toward the hostess. “Smells great in here.”

  “So do you,” Flynn said, then grinned when he saw her cheeks turn pink. “Are you blushing?”

  “Absolutely not,” Tara said, but she was still smiling as the hostess led them to a table.

  “Hey, there’s Davis and Bethany,” Flynn said, pointing to a table on the other side of the room. “They’re waving at you.”

  Tara looked. “They’re waving at us,” she corrected, and waved back before taking a seat.

  Tara couldn’t help but notice a family of five at a table across the aisle as she and Flynn sat down. The kids didn’t know how lucky they were to have both parents doting on them and making sure they had everything they needed, including love. It wasn’t like she was hurting for attention, but having a Mom would be so cool.

  “Hey, earth to Moon girl.”

  Tara blinked. “I’m sorry. Were you talking to me?”

  Flynn nodded. “No big deal. Just wanted to know what kind of pizza to order.”

  “Sorry.” She grabbed the menu and started to scan it, then rolled her eyes and put it down. “I couldn’t make a decision if I had to. Order something. I promise I’ll help you eat it.”

  Flynn laughed. “Want salad or anything to go with it?”

  “No, thanks. I’m a purist. Oh, and I’ll have Dr. Pepper, please.”

  Flynn lowered the menu to look at her. He kept looking for so long Tara got nervous.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he said, and went back to the menu, but Tara got the message. He was into her big time. That was all good.

  His thoughts are impure, you know.

  Millicent!

  Whatever.

  Tara sighed, thankful for small favors when she felt Millicent zap out again.

  A short while later they were both digging into a large three-meat pizza with extra onions and peppers. Flynn was eating two pieces to Tara’s one without apology, but the coolest thing about the evening so far was that Flynn was easy to be around.

  Tara was reaching for her third piece of pizza when she felt the air around them changing. Within seconds, she realized it was the same dark feeling she’d had walking into school with Flynn right after they’d rescued Bethany Fanning. Someone close by not only didn’t like her, they wanted her gone. As in dead.

  She shivered as she looked up. wondering if Emmit was there. She didn’t see him, although there were a couple of other dining areas in the restaurant. Not hungry anymore, she dropped the pizza back onto the pan, then wiped her hands on her napkin.

  “Um, Flynn, where’s the restroom here?”

  “Oh. Sure.” He turned around, then pointed. “Over there. See that little sign?”

  “Thanks. I’ll be right back,” Tara said, and then pointed to the swiftly disappearing pizza. “Save me one more piece, okay?”

  He grinned. “If you hurry.”

  Tara smiled, then headed for the restroom, but as soon as Flynn turned back around, she slipped through the arch into the dining area on the other side and scanned the room. It was full to overflowing with a line of people still waiting to be seated, but no Emmit.


  She couldn’t figure out who would have a grudge against her so strong that it would elicit this kind of hate.

  “Can I help you, hon?” the hostess asked.

  Tara turned. “Um. No, I’m fine. I was just looking for someone,” she said, and then turned around and headed back to the table and Flynn.

  “That didn’t take long,” Flynn said.

  “I was afraid you’d eat all the pizza,” Tara said, and just to prove her point, grabbed that third piece and slipped it on her plate. Then she reached for the red pepper flakes.

  Flynn’s eyes widened in appreciation as he watched her liberally sprinkled them all over her pizza slice.

  “Want some?” Tara asked.

  “No thanks,” Flynn said. “I want to still be able to taste mine.”

  Tara grinned. “I like spicy stuff. Comes from living in New Orleans. And Savannah. And Carmel, and Denver and—”

  ”Dang, Moon girl. Are you serious? Have you really lived in all those places?”

  “And then some,” Tara said.

  “I was born and raised in Stillwater. Never lived anywhere else.”

  “Lucky you,” Tara said. “It’s not fun always being the new kid in school.”

  Flynn frowned. “Yeah. Never thought of it like that. I was just thinking of all the country you and your uncle have seen.”

  “Yes, but here’s the sad part. After a while, all the cities and towns start to look alike.”

  “Why do you keep doing it, then?” he asked.

  Tara shrugged as she took a big bite and chewed thoughtfully. “I always think of Uncle Pat having an itchy foot and a gypsy soul, but the truth is, I think he’s just never found anyone worth staying around for.”

  “Maybe this time will be different,” Flynn said.

  “If I have anything to do with it, it will,” she said. “I would love to go to OSU. How about you?”

  He nodded. “Living at home and going to college will be the only way I can ever swing it, so yes, I’m planning on going to school here.”

  “What do you want to be?” Tara asked.

  Flynn didn’t answer quickly, and almost immediately, Tara picked up on why. His Dad. He wanted to go into Criminal Justice and his Dad was in the pen. How ironic was that?