Movie Night Murder

by Leslie Langtry

"Thanks for coming, Mr. Bailey. I really appreciate it," Rex said before introducing Riley and me as "consultants."

  Seamus's eyes stayed on mine a second longer than necessary. He was probably trying to place me. It wasn't going to happen. My name had been Finn Czrygy when I'd lived here, and even if he saw through my new name and altered appearance, he wouldn't recognize me. And then I remembered that my bangs were pink. That must've been the reason for his strange stare.

  I knew who Seamus was in high school, but I doubt he'd ever noticed me. One time, I dropped my math book in the hallway. He'd scooped it up and handed it to me without being asked. He told me I must be new and introduced himself. Even when I told him my name, he didn't recognize me—and we'd had classes together since kindergarten.

  It wasn't his fault. I kind of encouraged this form of invisibility back then. And I wasn't keen on people finding out who I really was now. So why did it bother me? And what was with my over-sensitivity lately?

  Rex told Seamus Bailey why we were there and asked if he'd seen any vehicles passing his farm.

  "I was at church with my family until noon," He answered. "But I did see something at about one o'clock. It was a white truck hauling a horse trailer. No horses inside though. I remember that."

  Of course not, because there was a body in the horse trailer. So that's how they did it.

  "Did you recognize the truck?" Rex asked. "How about the people in it?"

  Seamus shook his head. "It was a man and woman. But they were too far away to get a good look. As for the truck, there are a lot of white pickups around here."

  Rex prodded for more information, but struck out. He handed the farmer his card and asked him to call if he remembered anything. Seamus nodded and left.

  "Who transports a corpse in a horse trailer?" I asked.

  Riley mused. "It's a good cover. They were smart enough to ditch the black van in an isolated spot."

  A police van pulled up, and three people piled out. I recognized the faces of two of them, but not their names. I'm sure Rex introduced me, but I couldn't remember who they were. I watched as Rex gave them instructions, and they swarmed the abandoned van.

  "I'll let you know if they find anything," Rex said, before heading over to join the team.

  "Might as well head back," Riley said.

  I nodded. We wouldn't find anything more here. We got back into the car and found our way back to my house.

  Riley and I spent the next two days glued to our cells and laptops. Rex didn't check in with us—probably because he had nothing new to say. Riley had called in favors from everyone he knew. I think he was upset to find out that here, in rural Iowa, we really don't fill the streets with security cameras.

  Meanwhile, I researched Vanessa Vanderhook and came up with nothing. For the rest of the time, I pretended to search for clues, when in fact I was googling how to change your cat from pink back to white. I struck out there as well. I was doomed to have a pink cat forever.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Wednesday came, and I was relieved that I had a Scout meeting that afternoon. Kelly had everything organized, only needing me to come up with a few crafting supplies, which was weird, since at the lock-in it appeared she'd bought out the inventory of every craft supply store in a two-hundred-mile radius.

  I ran a few errands and bought some stuff, arriving five minutes late. All of our meetings took place in the kindergarten room at the local elementary school, which was on the same block as my house.

  "You're late!" the Kaitlins chorused as I walked through the door.

  "Sorry about that," I mumbled before dumping the supplies on the table. Did you know that there are different kinds of poster board? Neither did I. Apparently there were nuances (and possible conspiracies) in crafting that I knew nothing about.

  Kelly counted the twelve kids off into three groups of four. She told them they had to pick one girl in each group for this project. I sincerely hoped we weren't going to do trust falls again. That ended badly the last time when Betty's troop simply refused to catch her. I suspected that something was up, but the girls just pasted on their most angelic smiles and insisted they'd merely 'forgotten' what they were supposed to do. All four of them…at the same time. I'd had to break out the old first aid kid on that one.

  "You will take these poster boards…" Kelly held up one of the oversized cardboard sheets. You have to be really literal with these girls. I didn't want them coloring on the walls, floors, or me. Once, they drew pictures of horses on the dry erase board…using Sharpies. It was our fault because we didn't specifically say, "Don't draw pictures on the stuff that isn't paper using permanent markers."

  "And map out someone's life." Kelly waited for the girls to nod, demonstrating that they were, in fact, listening.

  You really have to be careful because sometimes they nod, but they're really thinking about something else—like glitter gluing a window shut or wondering how many pieces of taffy will fit up Emily's nose.

  "This is a planning exercise to make you think about the many places your life might take you someday, so that you can set goals and achieve them. As a group, pick one girl, and write a timeline, including any milestones she's planning for her future."

  Emily raised her hand. "What's a milestone?" The others nodded.

  Caterina rolled her eyes. "It's a stone that's a mile long…duh."

  Betty shook her head. "It's a stone you can throw and hit something one mile away. Everyone knows that."

  The other girls nodded solemnly at this sage wisdom.

  Kelly decided not to respond to this, so I didn't either—mainly because I liked the idea of throwing a rock the length of a mile. You had to admit, that was a pretty inventive explanation. It was wrong, but inventive.

  My co-leader walked to the chalkboard and drew a long line. She then drew shorter lines through it, writing a date at the top of each line.

  "A milestone is a major event in your life. For example, near the beginning, you might have 'born' or 'started school.' These are things the girl has already done. In the middle, you will predict things this girl will do, like 'go to college' or 'get married.' And at the end, you'd have things like 'retire' or 'travel to Spain.' Things like that."

  The girls all looked at each other for a moment before putting their heads together to choose who they were going to plan for and what those plans would be. I thought this was a great exercise. Kelly liked it because it was a teachable lesson. I liked it because I didn't have to come up with the idea.

  "This seems to be going well." Kelly came over to me. "No one is fighting over who's in what group." She was right. The girls had calmly chosen someone without any bickering. That was a nice surprise.

  "Where's the baby?" I asked. In fact, I couldn't remember a time since Kelly had given birth that I'd seen her without the infant.

  "Robert's on daddy duty." Kelly smiled. "I needed a break, and he hasn't quite changed enough diapers yet."

  "You call this a break?" I said, sweeping my arms around me. A troop meeting wasn't exactly my idea of relaxation.

  Kelly shrugged. "I'll take what I can get. By the way—we need an idea for next time."

  I thought this was the perfect opportunity to tell her about Lauren's mother's snail collection. Kelly looked horrified but didn't protest. She probably wanted a ready-made meeting too. And that's when I remembered the puzzle box. I pulled it out of my bag and showed it to her, explaining that somehow it ended up in Lauren's bag.

  "That's strange." Kelly frowned as she took the box from me. "What is it? I don't remember seeing it at the lock-in."

  "No idea. It's a box. And it has something inside. Something I can't seem to get out," I replied.

  Kelly turned the box over in her hands a few times. Her fingers poked and prodded every spot, but nothing popped open.

  "I guess we'll just have to ask the girls when they're done," she finally said, returning the box to me. "If we ask now, it'll just distract them."

  I set it down o
n the table and waited. There wasn't any point in speculating what it could be if it belonged to one of the girls. Kelly and I sat in silence watching the girls color. Several of them stuck their tongues out as they worked. It's a good thing I never did that as a spy. Not only would I have looked like an idiot, but I would've had chapped lips.

  I sat at a table while Kelly walked the room, answering questions. They didn't have many. Maybe they were old enough to understand directions now.

  "Okay girls!" Kelly stood up and clapped loudly. Had it really been an hour already? "Time to choose a spokesman from your group who will tell us who you chose and what they plan to accomplish with their lives."

  The four Kaitlins chose…you guessed it…one of the Kaitlins. One of the Hannahs was selected from another group, and the last one chose Betty. The Kaitlins went first.

  "We picked Kaitlin." No surprise there, since the entire group was made up of Kaitlins. "This," Kaitlin said as she pointed to a timeline with very few lines, "is where Kaitlin was born. Then she went to school here." She pointed to another line, creatively marked went to school, and continued.

  Kaitlin's timeline was fairly unimaginative, but it meant the girls understood the project. She was born, she went to school, got married, got a dog, bought a house, had kids, and died. Pretty common stuff. I was going to ask her about a job, but Kelly seemed pleased with the results, and the answer to my question could complicate things, so I said nothing.

  Emily stood and revealed Hannah's timeline, with pretty much the same results. Nothing too interesting and definitely nothing about dying your leader's cat pink. This was promising. There had been no fistfights to break up, and no one cried or used four-letter words. It was almost boring. Sometimes boring meetings make the best meetings.

  Betty's group was the last to go, and Betty rose, holding her board as Inez took her position as narrator.

  "Here," she started, "is where Betty was born. Here is where Betty joined this Girl Scout troop. And here is where she met Mrs. Wrath's cat, Philby, and decided she likes cats."

  Okay, that sounded more interesting. And I was kind of proud that one of the groups thought joining a troop was a big deal. It certainly had been a life-changing event for me. I was also flattered that Philby had made such an impression.

  "Then, here is where Betty will graduate high school and go on to college to study cats," Inez continued.

  I liked this board. These girls had put some thought into it. She pointed to a date exactly four years later and explained that at that point, Betty graduated and bought a cat. I felt a little proud that I was the one to introduce the girl to pets.

  Inez went on. "Here is where Betty will be recruited by the CIA and sent to Afghanistan to make her first kill."

  Wait…what?

  "And here is when Betty has her first black bag drop…probably in Paraguay," Inez said as the girls in her group nodded.

  Why Paraguay? I wondered. I had to admit I was pretty impressed with their knowledge of geography. But who was taking care of Betty's cat during her assignments? That was concerning.

  "Um…" Kelly tried to interrupt, but Inez's momentum was unstoppable.

  "And then," the girl said, "Betty will be elected President of the United States and invade Canada."

  Well, that was interesting. I was just about to ask her what Canada did to incur President Betty's wrath, but the girl was on a roll.

  "Here's when the zombie apocalypse will happen," Inez said as she pointed to a bloody stick figure.

  Ah. That made sense to invade Canada. Because zombies freeze in the snow—everybody knows that. I looked at Kelly who seemed to be gagging. Apparently she didn't know that.

  "After thirteen years as President, Betty will marry Mark Wahlberg and they will have two point five kids," Inez droned on.

  Kelly regained the ability of speech in time to ask, "Two point five?"

  I was actually wondering how Betty was able to get around the two-term law to have a thirteen-year presidency. And Mark Wahlberg would be a senior citizen by then, but maybe that didn't matter.

  This time, Betty spoke up. "I saw that on TV once. The average American family has two point five kids. And because I'll be an average American, I'll have two point five kids."

  It was pretty hard to fault her logic there. But I was pretty sure that the average American was not a CIA assassin who later became president and invaded Canada.

  Lauren, from Hannah's group, asked, "How do you have point five of a kid?"

  Inez fixed her with a sarcastic glare. "Well one gets half eaten by a zombie, duh!"

  This was getting dark fast. I didn't say this to Kelly, but I kind of liked it.

  Inez frowned and pointed at Betty's timeline. "And here's where Betty will die of old age at forty-two." She smiled and sat back down.

  Ugh. This had shades of that Game of Life activity we did last year. Why was it so hard for these girls to confuse middle age with being a decrepit senior citizen?

  "Forty-two isn't very old," Kelly said. "People live longer than that."

  The four girls looked at each other before Betty responded, "Really? Cuz my mom is thirty-five, and she says she's dead on her feet all the time."

  Kelly looked at me, and I shrugged. "How else could you interpret that?"

  "Do we win?" Inez asked.

  "This really isn't an exercise with winners or losers," Kelly said. I could tell she was gearing up for the wise leader discussion on why this was important.

  "Why not?" one of the Kaitlins asked as the others nodded.

  "That's not what this is about," Kelly insisted. "It's for thinking about life in general, and how you want to plan your future."

  "I definitely plan to spend my future killing zombies," Inez said.

  "Well," Kelly struggled. "Zombies don't really exist. And actually, most people won't go into the CIA after college…"

  Betty looked disgusted. "I don't see why not!"

  The room erupted into one huge argument as the three groups bickered over who had the best presentation. Personally, I'd have to go with Betty's group, but Kelly didn't ask, and I didn't think that now was the right time to volunteer my opinion.

  Instead, I raised my hand in the air, making the silent sign. The girls all raised their arms to do the same thing, and sat down, waiting for one of us to speak.

  "I think," I ventured as Kelly narrowed her eyes at me—what did she think I was going to say? "That this project showed that all of us have different goals for our lives. And I think that's good. Not everyone will go to college. Not everyone will get married. Very few will join the CIA, and really, none of you are going to die before the age of seventy."

  The girls considered this for a moment before nodding and looking at me. I felt kind of smart coming up with that. See? I could interpret stuff like a responsible adult. I hoped Kelly caught that.

  "Ladies." Kelly changed the subject and said, "Lauren found this in her bag after the lock-in." She held up the puzzle box. "Does it belong to any of you or your mothers?"

  The girls shook their heads. "What is it?" Emily asked.

  "None of you have seen it before?" I asked. "Are you sure?"

  Once again, they shook their heads.

  "What's on it?" Caterina asked. It was the first time she'd spoken all afternoon, but she was like that. She was silent as a grave most of the time. Caterina always caught me by surprise.

  "I don't know. Are you sure you guys have never seen this before?"

  One of the Hannahs walked over and took it from me. She touched two of the carvings on one side, followed by one on the other and one on the top. The box slid open.

  "How did you know to do that?" I asked. "Is it yours?" This had to be like the underwear mysteries—no one claimed them even though they had to belong to someone.

  Hannah shook her head. "I don't know. I just guessed."

  I folded my arms over my chest. "You just guessed. You just…perfectly…in the right order…guessed exactly what to do
to open the box?"

  "Yup," Hannah responded, as if I was an idiot to ask.

  "What's inside?" Betty called out.

  A small, black pouch was almost invisible against the black velvet inside the box. I lifted the tiny bag out and opened it—shaking it over my palm. A small, black square landed in the middle of my hand.

  "It's an SD card," Kelly said, staring at it. "Like for a cell phone."

  I tucked the card back into the bag and shoved it into my purse. There was no way it was going back into the puzzle box. I hadn't paid attention to what Hannah had done. I wasn't going to be able to get it open any time soon.

  "Never mind. It's probably nothing," I said. "Who wants to go outside and play a game?"

  The girls were on their feet and standing in line at the door in seconds. Kelly and I led them outside and started them off with a game of tag. Watching the girls play was usually one of my favorite parts of the meeting. I learned a lot from them…who was shy…who was bold…who was creative…but my mind was on that little SD card in my purse.

  I had my bag with me outside. I wasn't going to lose it until I could see what was on the card. Most likely, it belonged to one of the mothers and just had pictures and contacts on it. But until I was sure, I wasn't letting it out of my sight.

  The puzzle box was, well, a puzzle. Why would one of the moms put a SD card in there? Why not just put it in the zippered pouch of a purse? It didn't add up. Unless whoever it was was very eccentric. My money was on perky, alien kidnapee, Carol Ann.

  Or maybe it had something to do with Evelyn? No, that couldn't be it. Evelyn hadn't been in the church. She dropped dead outside. And the girls would've told me if they'd seen her. It had to belong to one of the moms.

  The parents came to pick up their kids. Kelly showed each one the puzzle box, but no one admitted to being the owner.

  "Maybe it's something from the church?" I asked my co-leader after the girls were gone.

  She shook her head. "Those are pagan symbols on that box. No way they'd be in my church."

  "Pagan symbols?" I frowned as I studied the box. "It's just nature symbols and maybe a couple of runes. What's pagan about that?"