After a few minutes, Big Dan called me over to another section of the dumpster. “Look at this.”
I slowly stepped over to Big Dan. He tilted a box toward me so I could see inside. “Old videocassettes. I bet these are worth a lot of money online. Some rare Disney movies in here. Plus a lot of musicals. That’s fun.”
“That’s why you called me over?”
Big Dan shrugged. “You’re a millennial. Thought you’d appreciate the nostalgia.”
I took a closer look inside the box. Most of the tapes were unimportant but then one caught my eye. It was a VHS copy of the movie production of West Side Story.
I reached into the box and pulled the movie out. “That’s strange.”
Big Dan looked over at me. “What?”
“Every single video in this box looks like it’s been watched a hundred times. The covers are wrinkled and white. The images have been rubbed off the front. Zambia clearly watched these movies.”
Big Dan shrugged. “So?”
I held up a copy of West Side Story. “This movie is in pristine condition. Like it’s never been watched. Or even touched.” I carefully opened the plastic case and pulled out the videocassettes “And this video isn’t a copy of West Side Story. It’s not labeled at all.”
Big Dan leaned over to get a closer look. “That is strange. Zambia took such care with this collection. It’s incredibly organized. It’s odd that this one, which seems to be in mint condition, contains the wrong movie.”
“We need to find out was on this tape,” I said. “Do you have a VCR?”
Big Dan shook his head.
I swallowed. “Then let’s go find one.”
41
Be Kind, Rewind
I had no idea it would be so hard to find a VCR in modern-day America.
The Internet was king of TV and movie viewing. Even DVD players were old-fashioned. Almost no one preferred to watch videocassettes for entertainment. So it was much more challenging than anticipated to watch that tape Big Dan and I found in the dumpster that day.
After we left the junkyard, I went straight to Grandma’s to ask Teeny if she had a VCR we could use. Teeny laughed in my face before I finished asking the question.
“Come on, Chelsea. I told you. I’m not old. I’m hip. I watch movies on my phone while I’m using the bathroom. I don’t have a VCR anymore. Tossed that thing in the trash at least six months ago.”
I didn’t have any luck with Miss May, either. She didn’t laugh in my face but she did doubt the promise of the VHS I had found.
“I’m confused,” she said. “You think this videotape is important just because the box was in perfect shape? I see the logic, kind of, but it’s not very promising. Did you find anything else in the dumpster?”
“No,” I said. “But I’m telling you, this tape is something.”
I went to the electronic store in town and the kid who worked there didn’t even know what I was talking about. “What’s a VCR?” He asked. “Does that stand for something?”
I groaned. “You work at an electronic store and you don’t even know what a VCR is?”
The kid rolled his eyes. “There’s always somebody coming in here, asking for old stuff. Tape players? Eight tracks? Radios? What the heck is a radio? I haven’t heard of like, any of that ancient crap. Sorry.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but I could tell I wasn’t going to be able to connect with this kid on technological issues. So I just thanked him for his time and left.
I pounded the pavement for hours, asking everyone I knew if they could help me find a way to play the video tape. No one could help. So I went back to the farmhouse to eat dinner with KP and Miss May.
Miss May had made split pea soup for dinner that night. She already had three bowls out on the big, wooden kitchen table when I got home. She also had a nice container of Parmesan set aside. And there was a big crust of Italian bread in the center of the table.
KP threw up his hands when I entered. “Finally. We’ve been waiting here for ten minutes. My peas are going to get cold. I fed See-Saw her dinner. Then I had to watch the little limpy dog eat his dog food. That made me jealous. Then this new kitty-cat you brought home ate her dinner. Everyone got to eat except old KP. Wash up. I’m sick of waiting.”
I laughed. “Hi KP. Nice to see you, too.”
“Yeah. Yeah. I been working on the peach trees all day. I’m a little agitated. Gotta get those peaches ready for summertime. They’re our best seller of the season. Wanna make sure we have a strong crop.”
“You can make sure of something like that?” I asked. “It’s only March.”
KP shook his head. “No you cannot make sure of something like that. That’s why I’ve been so frustrated.”
“Tell me about it,” I said. “I’ve been looking all over town for a working VCR and people keep laughing in my face.”
KP laughed.
“Yes. Exactly like that. Doesn’t feel too good.”
I washed my hands in the farmhouse sink and dried them on a plaid dishtowel. Then Miss May and I joined KP at the dinner table. KP grabbed his spoon but Miss May held up her hand before he had a chance to eat. “Hold on. Sorry. We need to pray.”
Miss May didn’t always pray before meals, at least not out loud. She was a pragmatic woman, not often prone to expressions of spirituality. But sometimes when she was feeling stressed or worried, she liked to take the time to express gratitude and concern and remind herself not to play God — that was, after all, a task best left to God.
KP lowered his spoon with a grunt. “I already prayed. I prayed and prayed that Chelsea would walk through the door so I could eat dinner. It came true. Hallelujah, amen.”
Miss May laughed. “Dear God, thank you for this food. Please look out for the Baker family, and the Smiths as well. Let us have the patience to solve this mystery before anyone else gets harmed. Look out for everyone we love who has passed and everyone who is still with us. Thank you for this great company.”
“And look out for my peaches,” said KP.
Miss May smiled. “Chelsea. Anything else to add?”
“A VCR would be nice.” Someone knocked on the back door three times. The door frame rattled and a male voice rang out. “Chelsea. Miss May. You in there? I heard you need a VCR.”
My eyes widened. Talk about the power of prayer.
“Who’s there?” Miss May called over her shoulder.
Tom Gigley rushed into the kitchen holding a dusty cardboard box. “Smells good in here.”
I jumped to my feet. “Tom. You have a VCR in there?”
Tom nodded. “Yup.”
I bit my nails. “I bet it’s pretty old. Do you think it works?”
Tom nodded. “I know it works. I watched all three Diehard movies on this puppy last night. I love my VCR. Don’t like the Internet. Don’t like the discs. VCR is the best technology ever invented. Can you believe they don’t sell them at J-Mart anymore?”
I smiled. “I can’t believe it, no.”
Tom set the box on the table with a sigh. “What are we watching, anyway?”
I grabbed the VHS from the counter and held up. “I don’t know. But we’re about to find out.”
42
Caught on Tape
“What kind of popcorn do we want? I found butter, real butter, extra butter, and cheddar.” Teeny held up four bags of popcorn and smiled. “I vote for extra butter. Actually, cheddar. No, you know what? Both.”
“I’m too nervous to eat,” I said.
Miss May turned back to Teeny. “I’m too nervous not to eat. I’ll take cheddar.”
Tom poked his head up from behind the television where he had been setting up the VCR. “Cheddar sounds good to me. Also, extra butter. And can you put butter on the cheddar?”
Teeny pointed at Tom. “I like the way you think. Not heart-healthy but this is a special occasion. We’re about to find the killer.”
“Or Zambia’s home movies of a vacation to Hawaii,”
I said. “Who knows what’s on this tape?” On the inside, I thought that the tape was probably the key to our investigation, but I wanted to keep expectations low.
“We’re not watching anything if I can’t get this VCR set up,” Gigley said. “Things weren’t so complicated before God invented the Internet.”
I laughed. “I remember when I was a kid everything had to have wires. Wires, wires, everywhere. Now we live in a wireless world, which seems like it should make things easier but—”
“But nooo,” Gigley said.
Miss May shrugged. “A lot of times they say wireless but there are still a lot of wires involved. I don’t understand that. If you say wireless, I don’t want any wires. I hate when things get tangled and dusty. I don’t like dealing with plugging things in.”
Tom groaned from behind the TV. “Then you most certainly should not look back here. Good thing I’m not in charge of defusing a bomb because we would have all exploded by now.”
“The stakes are just as high,” I said. “This tape might unlock our investigation and stop a murderer from killing again. Time is of the essence. You should take this seriously, Tom.” Low expectations, out the window.
“I am.” Tom’s voice was stern. “I’m doing my best. Let me focus.”
I took a step back. “Sorry. I know you’re just trying to help. And you’re the only way we can access a VCR without a time machine so I should be more appreciative.”
Tom grumbled. “I can think of a long list of reasons why you should be more appreciative.”
Teeny reentered holding a smoking, tar-black bag of popcorn. “Extra butter is off the menu this evening. So sorry, ladies and gentlemen. There was an accident in the kitchen. But cheddar is on its way.”
Miss May shook her head. “You own an incredible restaurant yet you can’t make a bag of popcorn. How is that possible?”
“Popcorn is not on the menu at Grandma’s. And never will be. We don’t own a single microwave in the restaurant. Everything is made fresh.”
“That’s why I love that place.” Tom gave Teeny a thumbs-up from behind the television.
“And that’s why I love you, Tom.” Teeny hurried back toward the kitchen. “Back with cheddar in thirty seconds.”
Teeny’s footsteps padded down the hall toward the kitchen. After five or ten seconds she called back. “Nevermind. Cheddar’s a no-go.”
Miss May chuckled. “Forget the popcorn. Come back in here. Almost ready.”
Tom crawled out from behind the TV and turned it on. “I did it. The VCR is set up.”
Teeny darted back into the room, face pale. She bit her nails. “So it’s time to watch the tape?”
Tom nodded. He grabbed the tape from the table and slid it into the VCR. There were a few seconds of black and white static than the tape began to play… And it was not a vacation to Hawaii.
It was security camera footage. Grainy and a little difficult to see. The footage was from a parking lot. There was one car in the parking lot, parked beneath a tall light post. There were no people in the image. Just the car and the light and… There had to be something else, right?
Miss May furrowed her brow. “This looks old.”
I nodded. “Definitely not West Side Story.”
Miss May looked over at me. We made eye contact. I had a feeling we were on the cusp of something big. But so far, there was no movement.
Then a dark figure crossed into the frame and approached the car. Miss May leaned toward the television set. “Who is that?”
Teeny shrugged. She shoved a handful of burnt popcorn in her mouth. “I can’t tell.”
“How are you eating that popcorn?” I asked. “It smells like the bottom of a fireplace.”
“I like it burned.”
Tom pointed at the TV screen. “The guy’s going underneath the car.”
Indeed, the dark figure was on his back under the hood of the car, tampering. I suddenly remembered that we were watching footage that might be related to my parents’ death. They had died in a car accident. Faulty brakes.
I drew in a sharp breath. “Is that… Is that a Volvo?”
Miss May got closer to the screen, squinting. Then she turned back and nodded. “I’m almost positive that’s your parents’ car. This… This video must have been taken that night.”
“That guy, whoever he is…he’s doing something shady!”
I scooted up to the edge of my seat. I felt compelled to see every detail of the video. I didn’t want to watch, but I also couldn’t look away. Then…the video ended. The screen cut back to the black and white static.
“No. That can’t be all there is. We need to keep watching.”
“Let me fast-forward.” Tom pressed fast-forward on the VCR. There was nothing but black and white fuzz for the duration of the tape.
I put my head in my hands. “This is terrible. That’s a video that shows someone tampering with my parents’ car the night they died. But we can’t tell who it is. We can’t tell anything from that video.”
“Hold on a second,” said Miss May. “Zambia would not have held onto this video for so many years if it didn’t prove something. She wouldn’t have tried to destroy it at the junkyard. And she wouldn’t have been killed by someone who wanted to keep this video a secret.”
Teeny nodded and crunched on more popcorn. “Miss May is right. Let’s watch it again.”
Tom looked over at me. “Again?”
I nodded.
“Are you sure?” Tom’s finger hovered over the play button.
“I’m sure. Play it.”
Seconds later, we were back at the beginning of the video. The street light. The lone car in the parking lot. The dark figure approaching.
“Can you tell who it is?” Teeny asked.
“The face is invisible,” said Miss May. “But hang on a second.” Miss May rubbed her chin. “Tom. Rewind back to the beginning.”
Tom hit rewind then pressed play again. The car in an empty parking lot. The dark figure approaching the vehicle. Miss May pointed at the TV. “Look. We don’t need to see that guy’s face. The evidence is in the way he walks. See how he kind of toddles, dragging his right foot behind him?”
I took a closer look. Miss May was right. The figure in the television set seem to have a very slight limp. “I see that. Yeah.”
Miss May let out a long, deep breath. “Do you recognize that walk?”
I suddenly remembered the bannister on Zambia’s stairs. How loose and wobbly it had been — as if someone had been heavily leaning on it. Like someone with a limp.
I gasped. “Oh my god. I know who killed my parents! And Adam and Zambia!”
Miss May stood and pulled on her coat. “Let’s go find them.”
43
For Pete’s Sake
“Everyone stop asking questions. I need to focus on my driving.” Miss May hung a sharp left and hurtled down Whitehill Road, headed toward Peter’s Land and Sea.
“But hold on. Jefferson Nebraska can’t be the killer,” I said. “He was at the restaurant when Adam Smith was killed. Remember? He’s the one who served Dorothy after she stormed out of the performance.”
“I don’t know about any of that.” Miss May blew through a red light.
“Slow down,” said Teeny. “That was a red light.”
“We’re fine.” Miss May took another hard left turn. “There were no cars. And we need to get where we’re going. Fast.”
“I’m with Chelsea,” said Tom from the backseat. “If Jefferson had an alibi for Adam’s murder why are you in such a hurry to get to him?”
“Because he’s the only man I’ve ever known with a limp like that. I’m almost positive he’s the one in that security footage.”
I bit my lip. “And Jefferson definitely lived here when my parents died?”
Miss May glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “Yes. He used to sort of have a crush on your mother, in fact. Then he took off on his motorcycle less than a week after they p
assed.”
“That rat.” Teeny clenched her little fists. “That disgraceful, despicable rat.”
“The guy seems like a rat,” said Tom. “I agree. But I’m hung up on the alibi. If he was at the restaurant that night he couldn’t have killed Adam. And if he didn’t kill Adam, there’s no good reason to connect him to Zambia’s murder.”
“Jefferson said he was at the restaurant that night,” said Miss May. “When he told us that, we had no reason not to trust in. But we never confirmed the alibi.”
My chest tightened. “You’re right. We took his word for it.”
Miss May looked at me. “That’s why we’re going back to the restaurant now. To find out if he was telling the truth.”
A few minutes later, Miss May burst into Peter’s Land and Sea. Teeny, Tom, and I followed, all panting and struggling to keep up. Miss May walked with strong determination. She charged straight up to the hostess. “Is Jefferson Nebraska working?”
The hostess shook her head. “He’s off tonight.”
“Where’s Petey?”
The hostess stammered. Miss May pushed passed her and strode into the dining room. She looked around with her hands on her hips. “Petey. Where is Petey?”
Restaurant patrons looked at one another, confused. An older man wiped his mouth and pointed toward the kitchen. “I believe I saw him go that way. He didn’t look happy.”
Miss May nodded. “Thank you.” She turned and addressed the crowded room of diners. “Sorry for the interruption everyone. Enjoy your meals.”
Miss May hurried toward the kitchen. We all followed.
Tom turned to me and Teeny. “This is exciting.”
Teeny nodded. “Get ready, Tommy boy. The excitement has only just begun.”
The kitchen at Peter’s Land and Sea was chaotic. A line of chefs chopped and sautéed and plated furiously. Waiters crossed back and forth at top speed. The head chef, a bearded man with lots of tattoos, barked orders from the stove. The place felt like a warship in the middle of a battle. But the general, Petey, was nowhere to be seen.
Shot Through the Tart Page 17
