by Peggy Dulle
I leaned against my car, next to him. “What do you remember about that day?”
“I remember her yelling my name, telling me to wait, that she wanted ice cream. Jessie loved ice cream. Her and my mom even had it for dinner, sometimes.” He shook his head in disbelief. “She was yelling about the ice cream and I screamed back at her to get her damn ice cream and catch up with me. It was only a few days after her birthday. I should have been nicer to her.”
“When did you realize that she’d been taken?”
He gave me a poignant look; his tone had a sharp edge to it. “When I heard her screaming from the van as it went by.”
I needed to lighten up the conversation before he closed down entirely. “Had you ever seen an ice cream van like that before?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, they’re all over the place during the summer time.”
“Wasn’t there something about a clown?”
“Yeah, the guy that was holding Jessie had on a clown suit.”
“Did the ice cream people usually wear clown suits?”
He shook his head.
“What about the driver? Was he dressed up too?”
“No, just a white guy, bald head with a small mustache.” His eyes widened. “Do you want to know the strangest part?”
“Sure.”
“There was a stupid bobble-head clown on the dashboard. It was dressed just like the man that grabbed Jessie.”
“Did the police send out an alert about the van?”
“Yeah, but I couldn’t remember the license plate. There are so many white vans out there. The police figured that the ice cream stickers were removed. They stopped every white van for a hundred miles, but never found Jessie.” His eyes filled with tears.
“I’m sorry, Todd.”
“Thanks.” He rubbed his hands over his eyes. “Maybe I’ll see you at the festival?”
“Is Shelby allowed?”
“Of course.” He smiled for the first time since we’d started talking about his sister. “We’re a big dog community here.”
“Okay, then.” I nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the egg hunt.”
Chapter 3
As I got into my car and drove to the Inn, I thought about what Todd had said. None of the newspaper accounts had ever mentioned the bobble-head clown or the fact that it was dressed like the clown in the van. Maybe it was something that they’d deliberately kept out of the papers. I remember seeing that on a cop show once. Or was it something that Todd had never told them?
When I got to the Inn, I hooked Shelby up to her leash, grabbed my bag and walked inside. A man, who reminded me of a bulldog, was arguing with the desk clerk.
“I don’t care, Sarah!” he bellowed, slamming his fist on the desk. “Find George and get the toilet fixed, now!”
“Yes, sir,” Sarah replied and started dialing numbers.
He turned around and ran right into me. Shelby barked and leapt toward him. He jumped back.
I put my hand down, settled my dog, and then looked up. He was frowning. He was short, solidly built, with broad shoulders, thick muscular arms, and glistening blue eyes. He had to be in his early thirties, like me. My heart started pounding so fast and loud that if felt like a wild elephant was trying to escape from my chests. I couldn’t catch my breath. What the hell was happening to me?
His face broke into a huge smile, but his voice was gentle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten your dog.”
I took a deep breath and smiled slightly. “It’s okay.”
He extended his hand and his eyes flashed. “My name’s Tom. Are you here for the festival?”
I shook his hand. “I’m Liza. I wasn’t really planning to, but Todd at the store told me about it, so I might stay. I don’t know. I’m just playing it day-by-day.”
“Great. Will I see you at the egg hunt?”
“I guess so.” I shrugged. Even if I couldn’t control the inside of my body, I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of knowing the way I was reacting to him.
“Great.” He turned back to the clerk, his tone intent. “Sarah?”
It was obvious she’d been watching us because she jumped when he said her name. She picked up the phone, bobbling it in her hands. “I’m trying to find George - right now.”
Tom left and I walked up to the desk. I heard the girl telling someone on the other line about a broken toilet in Room 17. “No, he’s not going to wait. He wants it fixed now!”
She slammed down the phone, turned her attention to me, and gave a plastic grin. “Good morning and welcome to Gainsville Inn.”
“Good morning, Sarah.”
Using her name made her smile. “How long are you planning to stay?”
“I don’t know. I’m on vacation, so I’m just taking it one day at a time.” I’d said that before. I hated when I repeated myself.
“Well, you picked a great week to come.” She handed me a pamphlet. “There are great activities every day.” She gave an exasperated moan. “I miss a lot of them because I have to be here.”
“Sorry.”
“That’s all right.” She laughed, then put her head in her hands and stared toward where Tom had exited. “Some of the people here are worth missing a few activities for.”
I glanced at the front door. “Who was the angry man with the broken toilet?”
“That’s Tom Owens. He’s the local sheriff. His house is being remodeled so he’s staying here. He’s so mature, not like the rest of the local idiots.” She took a deep breath and let out a huge sigh and added, “and he’s soooo cute.”
“Is he your boyfriend?” Why did I ask that? It wasn’t like I was interested or anything.
She rolled her eyes. “Like he even knows that I’m alive.” She handed me a key to Room 7. “If you need your dog watched, just call the front desk. We’ve got several local kids who’ll come and dog sit for you.”
I thanked the clerk. Then Shelby and I wandered down to our room. It wasn’t big but it was clean and my toilet worked. There were two dog dishes on the counter. I filled one with water and the other with Shelby’s food. She took a drink, nibbled a few bites of dog chow, and then jumped up on the bed and lay down.
“Oh no, it’s not time for a nap yet. Let’s explore the town.” As soon as I picked up the leash, she was standing at the door.
We wandered down the main street of the town. Most of the buildings looked like they’d been recently renovated, but kept that ‘old-time’ look and feel to them. There were wooden building fronts, red and white checkerboard curtains, and traditional signs. A few businesses still had pictures of Jessie’s missing child poster in their window. She was holding her snow skis and smiling.
I stopped at a small boutique and tied Shelby to a front post. She lay right down. The store was filled with craft items made by the locals. I picked up a kitchen towel embroidered with several red apples and an apple coat hanger. I took the two items to the front desk.
“Are you here for the festival?” An elderly clerk asked as she bagged the items I’d purchased.
“Yes.” I was tired of explaining myself. I pointed to the front window. “I noticed the missing child poster in the window. Did it happen recently?”
“No, Jessie was taken ten years ago, but we never give up hope.”
“Are you close to the family?” I asked.
“Gainsville is a small community. Everyone knows everyone, sometimes too well.” She chewed on her lower lip for a moment.
“I’m sure that happens in small towns.”
“Yeah.”
“There’s never been any news about the child?”
“No. She just vanished one day and that was it.”
I glanced back at the poster on the window. “Now that you mention it, I do remember hearing something about her kidnapping.”
“It was big news here and everywhere else, too.” She put my apple coat hanger into the bag. “Her family had problems already, but when she was kidnapped, it destroyed them
.”
“What kind of problems?”
She leaned forward. “The dad was never around. He drove a truck and was always on the road.” She shook her head. “And the mom was a drunk. Losing Jessie sent them all over the edge. The mom went on a binge that lasted years, and the dad left town and never came back.”
“Wasn’t there a brother?”
“Yeah, Todd. He was such a nice young man before his sister was taken. He used to come over and cut my lawn. But he blamed himself for not saving Jessie. He started hanging out with a bad crowd in high school. He was into drugs, and I think the sheriff picked him up several times. But he’s doing okay now. He runs his family’s grocery store.”
“What about the rest of the family?”
“The mom died a few years ago. It’s funny – she had finally stopped drinking and was getting her life back together again. She went on vacation and came back so excited. Someone heard that she’d seen Jessie. It was probably just wishful thinking. But that night she drove her car into a ditch and killed herself. They said she was drunk.”
“That’s so sad.” I frowned.
“Yeah. The dad came back when she died, but he didn’t stay long. He turned the business over to Todd and left.” The clerk handed me my package. “Am I going to see you at the egg hunt?”
“Probably.” I retrieved Shelby and we walked back to the Inn.
Odd. Jessie’s mom thought she’d seen Jessie – and then she died. I wonder if that meant anything.
Chapter 4
For dinner I left Shelby in the room and walked to an Italian restaurant downtown. It was small and quaint, with red and white-checkered tablecloths, large Chianti bottles with dripping red candles for the table centerpieces, and Frank Sinatra singing in the background. I ordered Chicken Picata and it melted in my mouth.
There’s a small refrigerator and microwave in my room, so I took my leftovers with me. When I got back, I did some research on bobble-head clowns. It was amazing how many different sites there were where you could buy them. It took me an hour, but I finally found one that matched the description of the clown that had abducted Jessie. I figured I’d buy one, but when I tried to I was asked for my ID and password. There was a button to sign up, so I pushed it.
The website “Uptown Clowns” opened up. They were located in Los Angeles. The website was dark with a huge scowling clown face in the middle. The words “Uptown Clowns are the only true clowns!” flashed across the bottom. A shiver ran up my spine. It didn’t cost anything to join but I decided not to use my real name or address. I lied on the three-page survey, too. It asked where I was a clown, how long I’d been a clown, and what got me into the clown business. It also asked questions about my political affiliation and what I believed in. The deeper I got into the survey, the more I realized that it was an extremely right wing organization. They didn’t like other clowns either. If you weren’t part of the Uptown Clown’s organization, you were considered beneath them. It was creepy in a white supremacy of clown’s way.
By the end of the survey, I was sure I didn’t believe in anything that they stood for. I pushed the submit button anyway and was returned to the original site so I could buy the bobble-head clown. Then I realized that in order to buy it I’d have to use my real name so I could use my credit card. That just didn’t feel like a good idea. I exited out of the program.
Just then I heard a knock at my door. Shelby went nuts, barking. I looked through the peephole and saw Tom Owens. My pulse skipped a beat. What the hell was happening to me? I’d never reacted to anyone like that. Sarah was right, he was handsome, but please, I’m thirty-two years old and shouldn’t be reacting like a teenager.
“Shelby, go lie down,” I shouted. She responded immediately, by jumping on the bed. I opened the door. “Yes?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to go and get a drink?” He rocked back on his heels, looking sheepish, but his smile was warm and inviting.
I wasn’t in town to get a date, but still I couldn’t settle my heart rate or breathing, not to mention the butterflies in my stomach around this man. One little drink wouldn’t hurt, would it? I shrugged. “Sure, just a minute.” I grabbed my white sweater, made sure Shelby had water and then closed the door.
“Will your dog be okay?” he asked, shifting his weight from one foot to another.
Was he as uncomfortable as I felt? I glanced at him and smiled, not sure who I was trying to reassure, him or me. “Shelby’s fine for a while.”
“Great.” He paused. “So, what do you like to drink?”
“Diet Coke,” I replied bluntly. I’d never acquired a taste for alcohol and I wasn’t going to start now.
“How about pie?”
“Oh, I love pie.”
“Okay. Then it’s the local diner for Coke and pie. It’s just a few blocks. Is it okay to walk or would you rather I drive?”
He had manners. I’d give him that. “No, walking is fine.”
“Great.”
We walked in silence. It was a bit unnerving. I hoped it wasn’t an omen for the rest of the evening. Well, at least I’d have pie to keep my mouth occupied. When we got to Joe’s Diner, Tom opened the door and let me walk through. As soon as he came through the door, people started saying hi to him and waving. I felt like I was part of a parade.
We sat down in a booth and a waitress came over, smiling sultrily. Her breasts barely fit inside her uniform, which was in serious need of cleaning. “Howdy, Tom. The usual?”
“Of course, Doris.” He made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a snort.
Her smile broadened. Then she handed me a menu. I glanced over at Tom. “What’s your usual?”
“Coke and a piece of hot apple pie.”
I handed the menu back. “I’ll have the same, except make mine a diet Coke.”
“Sure.”
She left and the silence continued. A few minutes later, the waitress came back with our sodas and left. I couldn’t take it anymore. “So Tom, do you pick up every woman that comes into town for the festival?”
He threw back his head and laughed. It was rich and full of fun. “No, in fact this is a first for me.”
“Well, me too. I don’t usually go out with people who come to my hotel room and knock on the door.”
He raised one eyebrow and smirked, “that’s good to know.”
His smirk was irritating and I could never master the one eyebrow thing either. Anyway I didn’t care if he thought I picked up everyone who knocked on my door. Did I? No. Maybe I’d just get some information. “So, Sarah says you’re the local sheriff.”
“Yeah. Gainsville isn’t a very big town so there are only four of us, I’m in charge.”
“Not much crime here?”
“Not really. Usually it’s pretty peaceful and quiet. I like it that way.” He took a sip of his Coke. “So, what do you do when you’re not visiting festivals?”
“I’m a teacher.”
“Then this must be Spring Break for you.”
“Yes.”
The waitress brought our pie. I had to admit, he had made a good choice. We spent the next hour or so talking about our jobs. I told him stories about the kids I’d taught over the years and he shared his “cop stories.” I didn’t think they’d be interesting, but he had a great sense of humor and made arresting a teen for spraying graffiti on the public restrooms seem funny. He certainly was easy to talk to.
Finally, I decided it was time to get to the reason I was in Gainsville. “I noticed the missing child posters in some of the windows.”
His shoulders dropped, he shook his head, and his tone went somber. “It was the saddest day of my life when Jessie McGowan was taken. She was such a nice little girl. Her smile would light up a room.”
The change in his demeanor was so dramatic, I fought an overwhelming urge to reach out and comfort him. “What happened?”
He went through the account, pretty similar to what Todd had told me, although he didn’t say anything
about the “Uptown Clowns.”
I put my hand on his arm. “I’m sure you did everything you could to find her.”
His eyes glazed over as if he were reliving the entire event. He slouched back in his chair. “It was like she vanished into thin air.”
“That’s not possible.”
“I know that!” He snapped. Then softened his tone. “I just blame myself because we could never find her.”
“Where’s her family now?”
“Dad left and her mom drove herself into a ditch and killed herself. Jessie’s brother got into drugs. It seemed like I spent two summers arresting him. Then he straightened himself out. Now he runs the local grocery store.”
“Jessie’s store?”
“Yeah. He named it after his sister when he took over the business.”
I gazed into the air. “It seems like I remember the McGowan incident. I’m sure I read about it in the paper.”
“Probably, we sent the information out everywhere. Anything to get a lead on her.” He shook his head. “Nothing helped.”
I pushed forward. “Wasn’t there something about clowns?”
“Yeah. Todd said the man that grabbed his sister was dressed like a clown. It didn’t help in the investigation. The clown stuff just didn’t go anywhere. Probably a disguise so he could grab Jessie.”
“Was the driver dressed as a clown, too?”
Tom narrowed his eyes at me. “You ask a lot of questions?”
“I’m a teacher, that’s how we learn stuff.” I smiled, hoping he bought it.
“Well, no, the driver was not dressed as a clown.”
“No disguise at all?”
“Nope.”
“That’s weird. Why dress up one man as a clown and leave the other one without a disguise?”
“I asked myself that question many, many times. I never found an answer,” he said grimly.
“Did the vehicle help at all?”
“Not really. It was a typical white van. A neighbor spotted it a few days earlier in the vicinity of the school. But she thought it was just an ice cream vendor getting a jump on the competition to sell to the kids. It seems the kids have their favorites and only buy from them.”
