"I can't believe it! Well, I can believe it, but I can't believe we hadn't heard about it. Nobody in Glenvar can keep a secret."
"That's for sure. Speaking of secrets, do you know anything about Roberta Thompson?"
"You mean the drinking?"
"Yes. How long has she been like that?"
"Since Fred, Jr. died."
Zach's brother, who was the same age as Charli, died two years ago. He had been sick for years with cancer.
"I saw her once when I took the van in to get it inspected," Charli said. "Mom told me that Roberta just sits in the office all day, sipping gin and tonic. She doesn't even bother to hide it anymore."
"It's so sad. And I feel so sorry for Zach. You should have seen how sweet he was toward her. You could tell it just broke his heart to see her like that."
"I feel sorry for Zach, too. It was bad enough when Fred, Jr. was alive. To hear her talk, he was the only child she had. Now, she's practically canonized him."
"Heck of a thing to have to try and live up to."
"I know."
I told her what had happened at the remote broadcast. I also filled her in on what Tim had told me at Pilazzo's about the investigation.
"I'll bet Nancy Winslow did it," Charli said. "She's certainly big enough, and mean enough, to do it. If we asked around, we'd probably find out that she had a motive too." She sounded excited.
"Charli, this isn't any of our business. It's a police matter, you know." I rubbed Delbert's sleek black coat. "But, she certainly tops my list of suspects."
"Listen, why don't we poke around a little. We won't interfere with the investigation, just gather information. This whole story would make a great book."
Uh-oh. Charli had apparently found the idea for her mystery novel.
I figured I'd better get her mind off of her potential best seller and onto something less troublesome. I told her about Zach wanting to go out with me. Bad idea. I'd no sooner got his name out, when she butted in.
"I'm so glad. I really like him. He's such a nice guy. Good looking, too. It's about time you started going out and having fun. It's been almost a year since, well, you know."
"Charli! Geez! Between you and Mom! I wish y'all would just back off. That's the last thing on my mind. Geez!" I said, exasperated, sorry I'd brought it up.
"Good grief, Marty. You don't have to be so touchy. It's not like I said you should marry him or..."
I interrupted. "I gotta go. Talk to you tomorrow."
After we hung up, I tried Tim a few more times, still not getting an answer. I didn’t bother sending any more texts. His truck was still missing and his lights were still off, too. Where the heck was he? It was after midnight and he had to be at work at six-forty five.
My adrenaline rush finally gave out, so I took a long, hot bath, soaking in the lavender bubble bath Mom had given me for Christmas until the water started cooling, then went to bed. Delbert curled up next to me and I rubbed his tummy. He started snoring after about ten minutes. Sleep didn't come quite so easily for me. I flipped and flopped, replaying the events of the day over and over in my head.
I was walking over toward a green trash tote carrying a dirty diaper when the diaper started ringing. I opened my eyes and fumbled around for the telephone.
"Marty, are you okay? Wake up, honey. Do you know where you are? Are you feeling all right?"
I groaned. "I think I'm in hell. What time is it?" I asked Mom.
"Three-fifteen. I just wanted to make sure that you weren't in a coma. Daddy was worried about you. He said that you're supposed to wake people with concussions up every couple of hours." She covered the receiver and told Daddy that I was still alive. "Go on back to sleep. I'll talk to you in the morning."
"Why me? Why do these things always happen to me?" I asked Delbert. He didn't answer.
13
When I looked at myself in the mirror Tuesday morning, I figured that Destiny and the other bimbos of badness were probably laughing themselves silly right about then. The bump on my head resembled a purple ostrich egg and I had a major case of raccoon eyes. At least the bottom half of my face was okay. Of course, the way things were going, that was subject to change at any time.
I dug way in the back of my junk drawer and came up with a tube of porcelain bisque sheer coverage liquid foundation that Ricky Ray had bought for Halloween the year before we split up. He'd dressed up like Dolly Parton. I went as one of her wigs. We won first place.
I squirted a big gob of the stuff out in my hand. It was sort of pinkish-white, probably not the best choice for someone with my skin tone, but it was all I had. I dabbed some on the purple knot and gently rubbed it in. It covered it up pretty well, but I was obviously going to have to put it all over my face. Delbert sat on the vanity next to the sink, watching my every move.
"You know, Delbert, I wish the hell I'd paid attention to Mom when she gave those 'how to apply makeup lessons'."
I rubbed my hands together and then smeared the porcelain bisque all over the rest of my face.
"What do you think?" I asked Delbert. He leaped off the counter and ran into the bedroom. "Yeah," I said, "me too."
Mom says if you project confidence and capability all the rest will take care of itself. Easy for her to say. Confident and capable are her middle names.
I figured I didn't have anything to lose by trying, though. "I am confident and capable," I confidently and capably told my reflection. She didn't buy it, either.
I thought about going with the old 'paper bag over the head' trick, but finally decided that the porcelain bisque was more practical. It would probably look much better once I got out in the sunlight. Plus, I'd already wasted fifteen minutes looking at myself in the mirror, fourteen more than normal. It was time to get a move on. I had places to go, people to see.
I was filling in for the afternoon DJ, Slammin' Sam, who had taken the day off. That meant I had to be at work at noon. It was nine forty-five. Plenty of time to cruise by the police station, sign my statement, and talk to Tim about Vanessa and the watch. But first things first; Pilazzo's breakfast cook had a half order of gravy biscuits and a side of home-fries with my name on it.
I tugged on a denim skirt and my What Would MacGyver Do? t-shirt, gave Delbert a bowl full of some really vile smelling stuff, and went out to inflict a little confidence and capability on the world.
Once my tummy was pleasantly stuffed, I zipped over to the police station. Theresa Luray was sitting at her desk with Tim in a chair right next to her. Their heads were so close together they were almost touching. They didn't even notice me.
I looked her over. She didn't really seem to be Tim's type. She was petite and pretty, in an obvious sort of way. In fact, she sort of reminded me of a brunette version of Charli. Not Tim's type at all. So why was he looking at her the way Delbert looks at a bowl of gourmet shrimp deluxe cat food?
"Hey there. I'm here to sign my statement," I said. My voice echoed off the metal filing cabinets.
Detective Luray smiled at me. Her makeup was perfect, just like Charli's always is. I felt like putting my hands up over my face to hide the porcelain bisque.
"Why, hello, Marty," she said. "Thanks for coming down."
"No problem," I said. "Hey, Tim, how's it going?"
Tim smirked at me.
He turned to Detective Luray. "Theresa, er, I mean Detective, I'll talk to you later about that, uh, that other matter," he said.
She looked from him to me and back to him. "Um, sure. I'll see you." She gave him one of those fakey looking movie star sort of smiles. The kind that says 'you're the only man in the world'. I've seen Mom do it a million times.
Tim practically glowed, he was grinning so hard. I couldn't believe he was falling for it. He can be so freaking gullible sometimes.
I caught his eye and smiled the same exact way Theresa had. He sort of rolled his eyes and made a snorting sound. Obviously, he wouldn't recognize capable and confident if it smacked him upside his big, d
umb head.
Detective Luray watched him leave, still smiling. God, she smiled a lot. I cleared my throat, and she started slightly. Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. She smiled some more before turning her attention to the pile of papers on her desk.
"Let me see, now," she said, rifling through a stack of file folders. "Ah, here it is."
She handed me a typed up piece of paper. I scanned through it. It told the story pretty well, except for the part about the watch.
"So, Miss Sheffield. Marty. Did you think of anything else to add to your statement?"
I felt my face growing hot. I twisted my hair around my finger and looked up from the paper. I had to force myself to look her in the eye. She was watching me intently, still smiling. I don't trust people who smile all the time. It's just not natural. I glanced back down at the paper and made up my mind. I’d tell Tim about the watch, not her.
"Uh, sure, I guess this looks about right."
I searched in my bag for a pen. Normally it’s like a pen convention down in there. Today, not a single one to be found. "Are you all making progress in the investigation?" I asked.
She handed me a fancy gold pen with her initials on it. "I'm sorry, but I can't reveal any information regarding the investigation. Department rules." A smile. "But I do want you to know how much I appreciate the help you've given us."
"No problem." I practically choked on the words. “Glad to do it.”
I signed the paper, handed her pen back, and stood up.
"Do you know where Officer Unser went? I need to talk to him about some personal business before I leave."
"Sorry." She stared at me, curiosity mixed with something else -- jealousy, maybe? -- coming from her large brown eyes.
"That's okay. It can wait."
"Maybe we can locate him on the way out."
She swished around the desk and shepherded me toward the door. She was dressed in a navy blue summer suit, pale pink blouse, and executive pumps. And, of course, a great big gun. I imagine having a gun strapped to you makes capable and confident a whole lot easier to project. Probably what Tim found so attractive, too.
I certainly could have used a gun -- or maybe a couple of fire-breathing dragons -- myself. The porcelain bisque and the positive thinking weren't doing a very good job. Theresa was one of those women who make me feel big and loud and gawky. Charli and Mom make me feel that way, too. I bumped into the corner of the desk on my way out, leaving a gigantic bruise on my leg and pretty much confirming the gawky part.
We made our way slowly down the hallway, peeking into each office we passed to see if Tim was around. No sign of him anywhere. When we reached the front I shook Theresa's hand and said good-bye. After she was out of sight I asked the receptionist if Tim was out on patrol. She looked at me over the top of her bifocals and arched one of her penciled-on eyebrows.
"Officer Unser has a court appearance in," she looked at her watch, "thirty-two minutes. I'd imagine that you can catch him if it's important. He's in courtroom three." She picked up the buzzing phone and dismissed me with a flash of hot pink nails.
I went out the entrance and turned left. The Glenvar courthouse is conveniently located right next door to the police station. I was just about through the courthouse's double glass doors when I heard Tim call me.
He was leaning against my car drawing circles in the dust. I couldn't see his eyes behind his cop sunglasses, but he still looked mad.
"I tried to call you," I said, in the calmest voice I could manage.
"I got the message." His voice wasn't calm at all.
"Well, how come you didn't call me back? I've got something real important to tell you. It's about the murder. Well, sort of." I started to lean against the car, but it was so hot it burned the back of my legs. I jerked away.
"Here," I said, pulling on his arm, "let's go down to the pharmacy and get some frozen lemonade."
I flashed him a fake-sultry grin. It’s one that’s normally a sure-fire laugh inducer for Tim. "My treat."
"No thanks." He didn’t even crack a smile. He eyed his watch. "I gotta be in traffic court in fifteen minutes."
Obviously he wasn't feeling well. Either that or the pod people had got him, too. Tim never passes up frozen lemonade. Especially if I'm buying.
"Thirty." I flashed another grin.
"Fifteen." He still didn't smile back. "Cut the crap, Marty, and tell me what you want."
I yelled at him "Okay, fine! Be that way! See if I care!" I jerked at the car door handle.
Two men dressed in blue pin-stripes, obviously lawyers, (If a lawyer was turned into a pod person, how would you know?) came out of the courthouse. They turned around and stared at us. Tim grabbed my arm and pulled me across the street to the Library courtyard. He plopped me down on a bench underneath a big maple tree and sat down next to me, still holding tightly onto my arm. It hurt.
"Ow! Let go, you jerk!"
He let go. I yelled at him again. Then, it suddenly occurred to me that I wasn't helping Vanessa any, so I shut up in mid-curse. I took a deep breath and attempted to calm down.
The courtyard is the center of the downtown area. It's the prettiest place in Glenvar. I looked up and down our tree-lined Main Street and started feeling that 'Glenvar State of Mind' wash over me. I quickly regained my composure and told Tim about Vanessa and the watch.
Tim's 'Glenvar State of Mind' was gone in a flash. He took off his cop hat and ran his fingers through his hair. "Is she out of her ever-loving mind?" He said.
"Big trouble, you think?"
He stuck his hat back on top of his head and groaned. A friend of my Mom's came out of the Library and saw us. With a big grin on her face, she waved and called out to me.
"Yoo-hoo, Marty! Hello, dear, how are you." Tim groaned again as she started over toward us.
She chatted on and on, asking about the anniversary party, about my finding Wart's body, about Charli, about Ricky Ray. When she started in about Ricky Ray, I rudely cut her off. She left in a big huff.
Tim finally found something to laugh about. "You realize, of course, that now you're gonna have to listen to a lecture from your mom about good manners."
"Probably. But at least I didn't get black goop all over her car." I glanced over at him and punched him in the shoulder. "Timothy Cornelius Unser, what have you done to my car?" I've got Mom's voice down to a science.
He poked me back, still laughing. "Man, she had me sweating bullets over that one. I was afraid she was going to remove a few body parts."
"You're lucky she didn't." I stopped laughing. "So. What are we gonna do about Vanessa?"
"We aren't gonna do anything," he said. "I am. Give me the watch. I'll talk to Theresa after court and try and get it straightened out. She'll want to talk to Vanessa about it, but I don't think, well, I hope anyway, that it will not be a huge problem."
I handed the watch over. He stuck it in his shirt pocket. He started to say something but stopped. He took a couple of deep breaths, opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, and then took some more deep breaths.
"Tim, you look like a guppy. Do you have something to say?"
He opened and closed his mouth a couple more times. "It's, well. Look, Marty, I'm, um, sorry. About last night. Okay? I don't want to fight with you."
"Yeah. I know. I don’t want to fight either." We sat there, watching the cars and people pass by. It was such a beautiful day. A little hot and hazy, but still nice. Some high school kids walked past with frozen lemonades. My mouth watered.
Tim stared straight ahead, still watching the cars.
I squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry, too, pal. "
He smiled.
"Friends forever," we both said at the same time.
"So, how's the investigation into the murder coming?" I asked.
"About the same. I spoke to Theresa, I mean Detective Luray, about the stuff we talked about last night. She thinks we might be right about someone setting Fred up."
"Really? Who?
Nancy?"
"I don't know," he said. "Not Nancy, at least not that we can tell. There still isn't anything that points in her direction. She played softball on that women's team that Warren coached. We talked to several of the other players. They all said that Warren and Nancy got along real well, never had an argument, etc."
"Bet she's the only one Wart never had a run-in with."
A little girl and her mom came by, carrying cups of lemonade. The girl took the lid off her cup and tossed it into a trash can. A small trash can, one that was too little for a dead person to be stuffed into.
"If we were going to arrest everybody that ever had a run-in with Warren, we'd empty the streets." Tim glanced at his watch.
"You better go," I said. "You're gonna be late."
He shook his head. "I've got ten more minutes."
"Did y'all find any fingerprints or anything?" I asked,
"Nope. None of the prints on the trash can, the note, or your mom's car were useful. And the bat was wiped clean."
We walked back across the street to my car. I opened the door and rolled down the window, hoping it would cool off some before I had to get back in it and drive. A couple of men and a woman came out of the courthouse entrance, laughing and cutting up. Obviously not lawyers.
"Did you find out what Wart and Fred fought about?"
"Not yet." Tim scratched his head. "One of the guys said that he'd heard that it was about something that happened at the Regional fast-pitch finals. Do you think your dad might know anything?"
Dad is a big softball fan and goes to lots of games. I told Tim that I'd ask him.
"So, have y'all talked to Beth? Questioned her, I mean," I asked.
"Theresa talked to her this morning. She's still all shook up. Listen, I gotta tell you what she said. It's pretty funny. Ha-ha, not odd. She said Warren left for work about five-thirty Monday morning wearing a pair of cutoff khakis and a Panther's t-shirt."
He shook his head and choked back laughter. "She told Theresa she didn't know where the TPI jersey came from. Said Warren wouldn't be caught dead in a Thompson jersey." He lost his battle with the laughter.
The Doom Diva Mysteries Books 1 Page 8
