by Gale Borger
"Get rid of me? Just how are you going to rid the world of me, stooge number two?"
Larry (or whatever his real name was) suddenly began backpedaling, and with fervor. "Wait! Stop! I didn't mean that the way it sounded. Buzz, call her off!"
Fred shoved me aside and stomped up to Larry. She poked him in the chest with two fingers hard enough that Larry took a stumbling step back. "Phillip Knight, you are such moron. The reason J.J. calls Buzz in to help is because you four idiots spend more time drooling over tight-assed little co-eds than you do practicing police work."
"Now, Fred," Mr. Stupid continued, "You know it's just because Buzz is the Sheriff's girlfriend that–Ooof." He bent in half when Fred punched him in the belly.
"Fred," I snapped, "Why the hell did you do that?"
"One, because I couldn't take any more stupid stuff coming out of his mouth, and two, because I couldn't reach his testicles."
The crowd gasped. "Ooo."
Out of nowhere, Mrs. Simmons jumped into the fray and blasted Larry in the nose with her fist. He gave a muffled yelp as he grabbed his nose.
She yelled right in his face. "Before you ask, that was for talking bad about Gerry Miller's girl! The idea, being jealous of Buzz. And this," she stomped on his foot and he howled like a scalded cat, "Is for being just plain dumb. Now you go on home to your momma, Phillip Joseph Knight, and tell her what happened here before she hears it down at Sal's."
Fred picked her jaw off the pavement and exclaimed, "Wow, Mrs. Simmons, you really gave him what for. You go, woman!"
Mrs. Simmons demure personality belied a backbone of steel. Interesting, and good to know. I patted her arm. "Thank you, Mrs. Simmons, but you didn't have to hit him for me." I steered her toward her home. "Are you going to be okay now?"
She shook off my hand. "Of course I'll be okay. I'm going down to Sal's. I think your momma is having coffee with Jane Knight and the girls, and I think I'll join them."
"And thank you for clearing up the boyfriend thing with him too."
Mrs. Simmons tossed her head back and shook her short grey curls. "I should say. Just because you and J.J. are affianced, Phillip should know you would never compromise an investigation."
Before I could speak, she hitched her purse to the crook of her elbow and tottered off in the direction of the diner, looking to all the world like a plump little penguin on her way to a fish feast.
Belatedly, I shouted after her, "Just for the record, J.J. is not my…" I sighed. "Aw, forget it."
I shook with exasperation. Then I turned back to Fred. "Yo Fred, why don't you grab Alfredo and Luis. Take my car and I'll meet you at Sal's."
"Sure, Buzz. Hey, are you going to let me help with the investigation like you let Mag help with Carole Graff?"
"What investigation?"
"Don't forget, big sister, I know you. Show me your right hand. I'd bet money you have your cell phone out and your finger on J.J.'s number."
I rolled my eyes while Sam picked up my right hand. "You win the prize, Fred, but why is she calling J.J.?"
I could see the light come on. "Wait! I remember. He is Sheriff Green from the party, right? Buzz's fiancé, I think your mother said."
Fred's and my mouths dropped open. "Fiancé!"
"Oh, no."
Fred giggled. "She said that?"
I fumed. "Where did she get that idea?"
Fred giggled again. "Hoo-wee. The Geriatric Gossip Central is probably having a field day with this one. The females in town will be out for your blood now, Buzz, not just your hair."
Sam added, "No wonder Mrs. Simmons said what she did."
I paled. "Oh, my God, does J.J. know?"
Fred giggled. "You'd better hope not."
"I'm sooo humiliated."
"You must be sooo humiliated."
I stopped, breathing hard. "Shut up, Fred, I gotta think." I leaned forward and put my hands on my knees. "Oh, man, this is bad."
Fred patted me on the back. "Don't make such a big deal out of it. We gotta go. Here come Luis and Alfredo." I guess I just sat there on the curb. Fred snapped her fingers in front of my face. "Come on, Miller, priorities. Coffee first, death and marriage second." She smacked the back of my head. "Snap out of it, Miller, we have bigger fish to fry here."
Wallowing in self pity I wailed, "I guess I really should call J.J. Oh hell, how can I do that now?"
"By remembering this isn't all about you, Buzz, that's how."
Startled, I looked up again. Fred grinned. "I knew that would bring you back. Call J.J., Sam, Evo, and I will get the Gallegos brothers over to Sal's. We'll meet you there."
I called J.J. The phone rang once. "Hey, Buzz, miss me already?"
"What are you talking about Green? I just saw you yesterday."
"Hey, don't be so touchy, pal. I was just teasing you. What's up?"
He couldn't have been more reassuring. I instantly relaxed. "Oh, J.J., I'm sorry. I'm a little frazzled. I'm over at Main and Elm. Do you have time to stop at Sal's?"
"Just so happens I'm at Elm and Ash. I'm coming to the burglary scene, so I'll swing by."
"Wait–eh…uh…uh." But J.J. had already hung up.
I snapped the phone closed and stuffed it in my pocket. I looked at the blood smear as the fire department hosed down the street. "Oh crap." I'd forgotten about the burglary. I handed Fred the keys. "J.J. is coming by about the burglary."
"Okay?"
"He's only two blocks away, so he's going to grab me too."
She flashed me an evil grin. "Boy, I wish someone who looked like James Green would grab me."
"Shut up, Fred. He's just around the corner–there he is now. I'll fill him in on the way over. You just get the brothers over to Sal's. They can follow in the Jeep."
I gave Fred's shoulder a pat, and she stepped backward. She teetered on the curb, lost her balance, and screeched. Her arms swung in giant arcs, but her center of balance was somewhere south of where we were standing. She slipped off the curb and stumbled into the street in front of J.J.'s squad. Brakes locked and tires squealed as J.J. slid to a stop inches from Fred. She collapsed on the hood of the squad.
A smiling J.J. stuck his head out the window. "Uh, nice to see you too, Fred. Decide to just drop in today?"
"Oh. Um, well, I have to go now. Uh, we'll see you later. Sam, Evo? Let's go." She grabbed an arm apiece and yanked them toward the car.
"What was that all about?" J.J. glanced at me as we pulled away from the curb.
"You know Fred, she trips."
"Yeah, like the time she tripped over the dog and landed in the Jell-O surprise my mom made last year for the Fourth of July picnic."
"Yeah, sort of. Listen, J.J., this may be nothing, but let me run it by you."
I explained what had happened and J.J. listened intently. He told me that the guy with the duffel bag had just robbed the bank and the Cooper kept him from getting away. Unfortunately, J.J. had just heard from the hospital and it didn't look like the bad guy was going to make it.
"Those two guys in the Cooper are heroes, Buzz."
"I think they might be murderers, James. They were aiming for Luis and Alfredo, J.J. The burglar just got in the way; kind-of like the cat."
"You know this as fact?"
I sat back in the seat. "No, I don't. Between the flying cat and the flying Gallegos brothers, and the flying burglar, I'm not sure what I think. I do know that your deputy Phil–no wait! Darryl, I think, is in a world of trouble though."
"Who is Daryl?"
"Uh, Stooge Number One, Moe."
"Oh, Moe. Moe isn't so bad. He can handle the initial."
I hesitated. "I uh, also had a little altercation of sorts with Stooge Number Two."
"Which one is Two?"
"Larry, or Phil maybe."
"Oh right, Larry the Moron. Tell me what happened."
I began the story and worked my way up to the boyfriend line as we pulled up to a stop sign behind my SUV. I had a horrible thought. "I can't be here!" I gra
bbed for the door handle.
"Geez, Buzz, what are you squawking about now?"
"We can't arrive together in your car! What will Gossip Central do with that little tidbit? I gotta go–just, uh, follow us."
"Us who? Buzz?"
"J.J., you don't understand. We'll never explain our way out of the boyfriend thing if we arrive together–especially now! Do you want to get married next week? That's what those conniving little old ladies are up to! Let me out."
"Wha-a-a?"
He slowed to a crawl and I jumped out of the squad and J.J. stared after me in mute surprise. I barely caught Fred as she pulled away from the stop sign. I banged on the door and she slammed on the brakes. I heard a thunk as Wesley hit the back of the driver's seat. I yanked the driver's door open and shoved Fred over.
She drew a breath to let me have it and I snapped, "Don't say a word," and she wisely stayed quiet. We drove the rest of the way to Sal's in silence, and Luis and Alfredo, and J.J. followed behind.
17
The drive to Sal's took less than five minutes. As we neared the diner, I became aware of loud music and a lot of yelling. Crowds of people gathered at the entrance to Sal's Diner and spilled out onto the sidewalk. Their shouting was indiscernible above the clamor of a boom box blaring music across the street.
We watched as Sal ran out of his diner, still holding two eggs in his left hand and a spatula in his right. He waved the spatula toward the street and we heard him yelling in Spanish. As we pulled into a parking place on the street, Sal scuttled over toward us and switched to English. "What the hell is that crazy Mary Cromwell doing over there by the parking meter? Is she pole dancing? Oh my God. Call J.J. Call the cops! Get that crazy lady away from my place! Oh, no, this is bad for business; she's going to drive away the customers. Help, police! She's cuckoo! She's loco! Help, help!"
He ran over to my window and yelled in my ear. "Buzz, arrest that woman! She's going to cause a riot! People will revolt. People will riot. It will be Clark Kent all over again!" I suppressed a grin.
"That's Kent State, Sal." We slowly climbed out of the SUV and watched the spectacle before our eyes. Even my dogs looked shell-shocked and could only stare. A boom-box sat on the curb near Mary and hip-hop music blasted from its speakers. One scrawny, fish netted leg wrapped around the parking meter she shimmied up and down. It looked like Lawrence Welk meets the Disco Hoochie Grandmama from Hell. Whatever the hell it was, it hurt my teeth.
Trying hard to keep a straight face, I said to Sal, "Yep! You're right about one thing, Sal. That's Mary all right, but what the heck is she doing?" I blinked against the glare. "Oh, my God; what the heck is she wearing?"
"I don't know," Sal said, scratching his head with the spatula, "but it's got to be illegal. You better shoot her quick."
Fred appeared at my side and let out a whistle. "Hoo-wee. That is just wrong. No eighty-year-old woman should be allowed to dress like that. How the hell did she come up with that outfit?" Mary let go with a couple of hip thrusts. "Oh, my God!" Fred choked. "No eighty-year-old woman should be allowed to do that. I agree with Sal, we'd better shoot her quick or get J.J., fast! Didn't he follow us over?"
I felt a little queasy as I gaped like a mouth-breather at the odd scene in front of me. There was my mom's eighty-year-old friend Mary Cromwell in all her glory, ruby red lips smacking kisses at the crowd, pink feather boa flapping in the cool autumn air. She hacked as she spit out the feathers which kept sticking to the red blobby stuff that covered her lips and the acreage around them. She looked like a Botox reject from Hollywood. For a second, I didn't know if she was having a seizure or she attempted to pole dance on the parking meter.
"What the hell is that?" Evo's bewildered voice filtered through the haze of my brain.
"I don't know, but it sure is gruesome," Sam said.
Fred giggled. "Gruesome doesn't quite cover it, Sam; Ghastly, frightening, appalling, horrific."
Sam and I turned to Fred and said, "Shut up, Fred."
I was distracted from further comment when I heard my mother's voice shouting from the diner, "Mary Lou Cromwell, you get your skinny butt off the streets! Ian is not opening a strip club, and if he was, he sure as hell wouldn't hire you!"
Wolf whistles and hoots from other diners now on the street interrupted Mom's tirade. Pennies and nickels flew across the street as people threw change. It seemed to incite Mary, as she shook her booty to "Shake your Booty."
Mom gathered steam. "Mary, I mean it! You're going to catch your death in that stupid dress. I just may be the one to kill you."
Mary wore a blue sparkly mini dress, reminiscent of the disco era with a halter neckline and no defined waist. It barely covered her butt and when she dropped the boa and bent to pick it up, it didn't. The crowd got an eyeful of Mary's black lace thong. "Ohh Noo."
Black fishnet stockings covered her scrawny legs and her orthopedic shoes looked like cement blocks on her feet. Her tight blue curls were topped with a plastic tiara, and her faded grey eyes twinkled from somewhere under the sky blue smears she had troweled across her eyelids.
J.J.'s cruiser crept up the street until it pulled even with us. Sal immediately ran around the front of the squad and began yelling in J.J.'s ear.
"How're you gonna stop this, eh? Arrest her, or…or shoot her, or call the loco loony police. You gotta get rid of her, J.J. She's gonna have an accident!"
"Sal, slow down. I think you mean cause an acci–"
No, no! She's gonna have an accident right there in the street. J.J. ducked as Sal gestured wildly with his left hand. One of the eggs he held popped out of his grasp when he gestured toward Mary. We watched in stunned disbelief as it sailed through the air in slow motion. The crowd "oood."
The egg made a perfect arc, which by all the laws of physics should have dropped about five feet in front of Mary. Whether the wind caught it or my mother willed it, that egg had a mind of its own as it hitched in mid air, and shot another four-and-a half feet. The egg splatted squarely on Mary's gyrating butt.
"Aw, man. What a shot! That egg would have missed had her rear-end not been hanging out into the street." Fred hooted. The crowd stood momentarily shocked into silence as Mary continued to undulate to the Beach Boys on the boom box. She suddenly became aware that she had egg on her butt.
Several things happened at once.
The adults, "ooo'd."
The kids, "awwed."
J.J. slapped a hand over his eyes.
Fred and I slapped hands over our mouths.
Sal squeaked.
Mary squawked.
Egg dripped onto the boom box.
The Beach Boys groaned and died.
Silence descended. Wesley calmly stepped around the squad and crossed the street. He grinned and wagged his tail as he slowly sashayed to where Mary stood. He looked at the egg dripping off Mary's butt and looked at the boom box. He looked at Mary's butt again.
Now people insist that dogs are not decision makers, but I could almost smell the rubber burning as Wes pondered his options. Obviously realizing that discretion was the better part of valor, Wes dropped his head and licked the boom box. As egg dripped off Mary's butt onto Wesley's head, Mary snapped out of her stupor.
"Saaalll!" Mary rounded on the owner of the diner.
"Jay Jaaay," Sal yelled as he beat it back into the diner.
"Wes-leee!" My egg-sucking dog looked at me after hearing his name.
"Maaa-rrry," Mom, Jane, and Joy all chorused from the door of the diner.
The crowd suddenly came to life and roared; applause and shouts filled the air. Coins flew in Mary's direction. One would think the Packers had just won home field advantage with such a hullabaloo. A tail wagging Wes looked up and grinned, egg dripping off one ear.
Mom and Jane intercepted Mary as she charged across the street bent on revenge. Wes must have thought the boa was some strange molting bird, because he gave chase and grabbed the end. A minor tug-o-war broke out which Wes won, and he came
trotting back to the car with his prize.
Mom and Jane hustled Mary through the diner parking lot and stuffed her into Mom's truck. Last seen, Mary left a red blob on Mom's back window where she kissed it, and she waved to the crowd as they sped down the street.
J.J. spoke first. Hands on hips, he turned to us. "Well, it's going to be a zoo in there, so we might as well forget it." He consulted his watch and added, "Besides, Sal's going to be closing in a half hour. I'll call what's-his-name, Curly, to take the reports, so let's get out of here while we still can."
"It's going to take longer than that to fill you in on everything," I said.
Evo looked at his watch. "What time do you end your work day, Sheriff?"
"Call me, J.J. Tell you what, let me just call Edie and tell her I'll be on my cell phone if anything comes through Dispatch."
J.J headed back to the squad and we closed in as a group. Fred said, "Why don't we have Luis and Alfredo retrieve the live fish from Ian's, and meet us back at my house? We can call Hank, Ian, and Mag and make it a party."
"Great idea, Fred, I've been dying to show Hank your fish." Sam slipped an arm around Evo and rubbed his back. "Are you agreeable?" He looked like he just swallowed his tongue. He looked down at her and could only nod. I chuckled to myself. That man had it bad.
Sam patted him on the waist. "Evo, why don't we go with Luis and Alfredo? We can take your truck and the boys the Jeep. We can meet Buzz and Fred back at the house later." She rubbed his back again and the man broke out into a sweat.
He tried for coherency and failed miserably. "Uh, I…That is, I don't think…Uh, is it wise, uh, shouldn't we, uh…Buzz?" Evo looked at me with save me written all over his face.
I looked at Sam and she winked. She knows, I thought. That little crapper knows Evo can barely be in the same room with her without exploding into a blithering idiot. I should help him out. He may not make it back alive if I don't rescue him. It was a lovely thought.
I flashed Evo an evil grin. "Sounds great, Sam. Luis and Alfredo, are you sure you're okay?"
They looked at each other. "Of course we are. We were not hurt. It was the poor cat and the man with the bag of money who had all the trouble."
