by K C Hart
Why, oh why, had she let Misty talk her into skipping her regular shopping routine and go instead to Walmart in the town next door to pick out petunias? Now Katy was facing The Pig on its craziest day of the month. There was nothing to do but bite the bullet and go on in. She squeezed into a park around on the side of the building, between a beat-up old pick-up truck that was pulled over the line, and the store dumpster. If it was this crazy outside, she knew it would be a zoo inside. She glanced over her long list of items. A lot of this stuff would just have to wait a few days. She would grab the milk, eggs and rocky road ice cream, then hit the checkout.
She opened the door of her Honda and forced herself through the narrow opening as the car door pressed against the side of the tall green dumpster. The weighty smell of the grocery trash rose in waves from the enormous green can and invaded her nose. She pulled the neck of her tee-shirt over her mouth, trying not to breath as she slammed the door, desperately wanting to get away before the gagging started. She took a hasty step away from her car and was quickly jerked to a halt by her right arm.
“What the…” Katy looked back at the door of the car. Her purse strap, which was looped over her forearm, was shut in the door with the purse still on the inside of the car. And now the car was locked. She looked longingly at the keys still hanging in the ignition. “Now don’t this just beat all.” She eased the small section of strap that was sticking out of the car off her arm and stepped away from the dumpster so she could catch her breath. “If ever there was a sign that I do not need to go in that store, I think this is it.” She leaned against the trunk of her car and patted her blue jeans pockets and, thank goodness, found her cell phone.
Who to call, John or Misty? Who would laugh the least? She had been married to John long enough for him to know that laughing too long would not be good for his future. But she had also been married to him long enough to know that he would be laughing on the inside, even if he did manage to keep a straight face. Misty, on the other hand, did this kind of stuff as much as she did. She would laugh with her, then sympathize with her, too, about the high level of stress brought on by the “great Pig rush” that actually caused this problem to start with. She punched Misty’s button and briefly told Misty about the problem.
“I’ll just run by your house and grab your spare key,” Misty laughed. “I should be there in about ten minutes.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be right here.” Katy slid the phone back in her pocket and hopped onto the trunk of her car to wait for her rescuer. At least it was a nice spring day. In a couple more months she would melt if she tried to wait outside in the sun for even two minutes. The side of the grocery store building offered some shade from the springtime sun, but it also blocked any breeze that might be blowing, and caused the dumpster smell to just hover in the alley.
Katy pulled the neck of her shirt over her mouth again, trying not to breathe in the stench. That didn’t really help. Maybe going around to the other side of the bin and getting downwind of the smell would be better. It sure couldn’t be any worse.
She hopped off the little car and walked into the narrow road that went behind the store, giving the dumpster a wide berth as she circled around to its other side. “You couldn’t pay me enough money to climb into that thing,” she mumbled, stepping into the empty parking spot on the opposite side. “Dumpster diving is just not worth it.”
Katy leaned against the brick building and glanced at her watch. Misty would be here any second. She sniffed her shirt. Not good. She would not be hungry for quite a while after breathing this lovely aroma. The purring of Misty’s car descended on Katy and she pushed off the brick wall and stepped toward the alley road.
“Hey, Chickie,” Misty said, rolling down the electric window on her passenger’s side car. “You really are slumming it today.”
“You know me.” Katy took the spare car key from Misty’s extended hand and hit the unlock button on her key fob. “Never a dull moment.” She walked back around the dumpster and squeezed into the narrow space and opened her car door.
“Oh, well, that’s just great!” Katy exclaimed, as her purse tumbled from the car onto the pavement, sending a small swarm of blue flies up from the ground in a tizzy. Katy picked the purse up by the strap and held it carefully away from her body as she stepped backwards into the alley.
“Are you going to try to salvage your bag?” Misty asked as she came around the corner of her car to Katy’s side. “There’s something kind of yellow-green splattered all over this side of it.”
“That’s probably the bubonic plague. Nah, I’m going to retrieve my wallet and this thing is going to find its final resting place in that big green can.” Katy pointed toward the dumpster and coughed as a new wave of pungent smells floated down around them.
She opened her trunk and got a couple of pair of disposable nursing gloves and a biohazard lab bag from her home health supplies. “Here,” she said, handing a pair of gloves and the plastic bag to Misty. “Hold that open so I can put my wallet in there.”
“Just be quick about it. I am getting a little nauseated.” Misty slipped on the gloves and puffed her cheeks, holding her breath.
Katy reached her gloved hand into the opening of her favorite old purse and pulled her wallet out with two fingers. She dropped it into the bag for Misty to zip shut. She looked back in her purse at the pens, old receipts, and a pair of dollar store sunglasses. They were not worth reaching back in the nasty to salvage. “Now, let me just toss this in the can and we can get out of here.” She took her bagged wallet and dropped it in her trunk. “Where is the opening for this thing?” she asked, looking at the side of the can nearest her car.
“It opens on the top. See how it slants down on the sides over here?” Misty said, walking around to the other side of the dumpster. Katy followed her to the other side and noticed two trap-door openings across the top of the giant square container. The can had probably been a shiny Christmas-tree green at one time, but now it was covered from one end to the other with sticky, slimy, old trash residue.
“Okay, you open one of the hatches and I will toss in my bag.”
“You owe me big,” Misty said, leaning her nose into the bicep of her arm.
“I know, but I can’t put my nasty purse in my car.”
“I know, but you owe me big,” Misty repeated, her face turning a rather funny shade of green. Misty reached up above her head to the lid of the dumpster and attempted to open it. “I can’t do it from down here. It’s too high up.”
“Alright,” Katy said, looking around for a place to toss her purse. She just could not put it back in her car. “Look, if we stand on the trunk of my car you will be able to hold it open without any problem.”
“Are you sure?” Misty looked at the dumpster again and shuddered. “I think I will just die if I fall up against that thing.”
“Yeah, we can do it.” Katy tossed Misty her keys, then waited while Misty pulled the car around into position. Katy climbed onto the trunk of her car. “Come on.”
“Let’s get this over with.” Misty climbed up beside Katy, and they both stood slowly. Misty carefully placed one gloved hand against the can and prepared to lift the lid with the other.
Katy pulled her arm back to launch the purse through the opening as soon as Misty lifted the door. She considered slinging it around in the air a few times to get a good momentum going but was scared the slime on the side would sling off and get on them, or she would lose her balance and fall off of the car. No, that would not be good. She would just have to throw it hard and hope she did not miss the hole.
“Ready?” Misty grabbed the handle of the lid. The trash was already piled so high that the lid did not completely close.
“Ready.” Katy stared at the door, praying she would not hit Misty’s hand, or worse yet, her head.
Misty lifted the lid, releasing a new wave of odors that made the previous stench smell like a flower garden. Katy pulled back her arm and slung the bag forward
, clearing Misty’s hand and flying into the opening… just as the upper torso of a woman tumbled out.
Misty dropped the metal door like it was on fire and let out a scream like a banshee. The door made a small thud as it bounced off the body, now slumping forward through the opening of the dumpster, half in and half out.
“Oh boy, I’m gonna be sick,” Misty whispered, sitting down on the trunk of Katy’s car. She leaned forward to lose her lunch.
Katy looked at the one arm that was now sticking out from under the dumpster lid. She squatted down below the opening and peered up at the body, trying to get a better view. Long, curly brown hair hung down over the person’s head, covering the face. Katy climbed down and walked to the end of the dumpster where Misty now stood, leaning against her car and wiping her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand.
“Get back in your car and turn on the AC,” Katy said, as she walked past her friend. “You look awful.”
Misty obeyed without comment. Katy returned to her car and opened the trunk. She shoved around all her work supplies until she found what she was looking for. She pulled the tire tool out, slammed the trunk shut, and began climbing back up.
The electric window of Misty’s car swished down. “What are you going to do with that?”
“I’m going to prop the lid door open so it won’t be pinning down that person’s upper body,” Katy said over her shoulder, not bothering to slow down. She pushed the lid up as far as she could reach with her left hand. With her right hand she wedged the tire tool between the underside of the lid and what appeared to be a crate of rotting cabbages that was visible just to one side of the body.
“That should work.” She turned around and looked at Misty. “You look terrible.”
“This is not my normal type of workday routine,” Misty said, smiling weakly. “Can I do anything to help you? Anything while I am sitting in the car, that is.”
“Yeah, call 911. I think we might have just found Rita Hudson’s body.”
If you enjoyed this sneak peak into Memories, Murder and Small Town Money, look for it soon on Amazon.
If you enjoyed this book please join Christian Indie Author Readers Group on Facebook. You will find Christian books in multiple genres, opportunities to find other Christian authors, and learn about new releases, sales, and free books.
www.facebook.com/groups/291215317668431/
Acknowledgments
First, I want to thank my dear friend,Tracey Hudson Countz. She has stuck with me through this process and talked me down from a proverbial ledge a time or two when technology had me in a smack-down.
Thank you to all of the wonderful people who were willing to take a chance on a green author and read my first Katy Cross book. Y’all have been so kind and have poured out the love to me in so many ways. You have touched this ole gal’s heart.
Thank you to my former nursing buddies, Jenny Carpenter, Kathy Sutton, and the one of a kind, Sherry Britt. There’s a little bit of each of you in Katy Cross. I’ll let you decide which piece you would like to claim.
Thank you Sharlene Libby for dotting my ’T’s and crossing my ‘I’s. You probably wanted to cross your eyes a couple of times when you were looking at my string of words.
Thank you Mr. Wonderful…just for being you. You will always be the love of my life and supporter of my crazy endeavors.
And above all, thank you God for another attempt to put my pretend friends in print for all the world to see.
About the Author
K.C. Hart is an emerging author of Southern Cozies with a Christian thread. The Katy Cross Mystery Series is based on the many small towns that K.C. has lived in over the years, but thankfully none of them were plagued with the high murder rate that Skeeterville seems to be developing.
K.C. lives in Mississippi with Mr. Wonderful, her husband of thirty-seven years, where she spends her days enjoying the grandkids, reading, writing, and playing her piano or guitar.
You can follow K.C. at
www.kchartauthor.com
