by Amy Lilly
Death Is Long Overdue
AMY E. LILLY
Copyright © 2014 AMY E. LILLY
Cover Art by Ashley Townsend
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1505352533
ISBN-13: 978-1505352535
DEDICATION
For Lily, Natalie and Gabriella
CHAPTER ONE
“So elves could be walking around in our midst, disguised as normal, everyday, vertically challenged citizens.” - Janet Evanovich, Visions of Sugar Plums
"You know what your problem is?" Juliet threw popcorn into the air, tried to catch it with her tongue and missed.
"No," I sighed and bent to pick up the errant kernel. My sister is a slob. "But I know you are dying to give me profound words of wisdom from your twenty-five years on the mountain, oh great guru."
"Your problem is that you're too nice, Phee. You need to stand up to people or you will be a doormat for the rest of your life," Juliet declared. She stretched her long legs out and rested her feet on my antique cherry coffee table. She wiggled her hot pink toes at me. I sighed and nudged them off with my own short hobbit-like feet. I loved my baby sister, but she would never understand. She was tall and blonde and could roll out of bed looking like a Paris fashion model. If I rolled out of bed, my short curves would keep on rolling and I would end up looking like a bag lady in a back alley. She was artsy and I was just, well, kind of old-fartsy.
"I am not too nice!" I protested. "Why just today I left a very nasty message on Huey Long's answering machine. I told him that if he didn't bring the library's books back I would turn him into collections and ban him from the building. Can you believe he had the nerve to pinch me on my butt? I would've kicked him, but Charlie Cochran told him to get out before he knocked him out. Huey ran off as fast as his little legs could carry him. He was probably terrified that I actually would kick him in the place where it counts! I've had about all I can take of him. He's been skulking around the library for the past few months asking me out. He asked if he could ‘check me out, take me home and read me.’ He is just such a pig!" I pretended to gag. As the librarian at the small local library, I knew almost everyone in town. Sometimes it was hard to be mean to someone you might sit next to at the counter of Odd Couple's Diner. For Huey Long, I was willing to make an exception.
"Whoa! You are B.A.! I'm sure he was trembling in his little itty bitty troll boots that he probably made from the hides of baby kittens. Did he bring back the books?" Juliet asked laughing.
"B.A.? What the heck is that?" I asked. I found a few more dropped kernels of popcorn and leaned over to pick them up.
"Bad ass. You're such a nerd! Listen, Phee, you need to tell that little pervert the next time he touches you that you will drop kick him so hard that they’ll find him in the next town. Tell him you’ll charge him with assault, too. He is such a creeper. It would do him good to spend a night in jail." Juliet stood up, slipped on her shoes and grabbed her jacket and purse. "You know that I love you just the way you are, but you need to try living a little more dangerously and be a little more assertive. I’m saying this for your own good. Try new things. Realize there's more to the world than Miller’s Cove, your books and that library. And for heaven's sake, go on a date! I bet I know a smoking hot deputy that you wouldn't kick out of bed if given half the chance." She winked at me. I ignored her
“Huey Long is not a troll. He is a vertically-challenged pervert,” I snickered. I followed Juliet as she made her way to the door.
“Funny. Don’t forget dad’s birthday is only a week away. Mom is in full party planning dictator mode, so you might want to make yourself scarce,” Juliet warned me as I shut the front door behind her. I leaned my forehead against the door and considered banging my head against it in frustration. Crud! How had I forgotten Mom’s big party for my dad’s sixtieth birthday? I would need to go shopping. In the meantime, I thought about what Juliet said about standing up for myself. Too nice. Ha! I would show her. I was going to get the books back from Huey if it killed me. Now I just needed to figure out how to do it without actually dealing with him. Time to put all those hours logged reading crime novels to good use
CHAPTER TWO
“I’m the fortieth ugliest man in this bar. But so what! So what!… Isn’t this how people used to fall in love?” - Gary Shteyngart, Super Sad True Love Story
At nine o'clock, I put my book retrieval plan into action. I had spent the afternoon and evening preparing. Black shirt. Check. Black yoga pants with black riding boots. Check. Black ski mask that I bedazzled with a large "L" in the middle of the forehead. Check. I donned my disguise and instantly transformed into “Super Librarian” who is able to retrieve overdue library books with a single shush. I stuffed a small penlight into my red bra. I grabbed my bag and headed out on Operation Book Snatcher.
I drove my beloved 1968 orange VW van, Velma, to Huey's house on Oakwyn Street. I knew he wouldn't be home because it was karaoke night at Carbuncle's Cabana on the Cove. He was known for his bleating renditions of Willie Nelson's Sunny Side of the Street. Karaoke started at eight o'clock, and Huey liked to be the opening act. Maybe he thought it might increase his chance of getting lucky, but I thought his chances might increase if he waited until the regular bar flies downed a few drinks. Huey might look better after five shots of tequila. Okay, maybe ten shots.
I parked Velma a block away from his house and began to casually stroll down the street. I carried a leash in my hand so if I ran into anyone I could pretend to be looking for my dog. I prayed my Maine Coon Cat, Ferdinand, would never find out about my betrayal of his species. I walked through Mrs. Grimes' dark back yard. Bless her for being too cheap to turn on her outside lights. Katherine Grimes was as deaf as she was blind so I was pretty sure I was safe. I made my way into Huey's yard through his side gate. Tiptoeing through his tulip beds, I peered around and spotted a window that was open just a crack. I slowly pushed it up and cringed when it squeaked.
Not daring to open it further, I hoisted myself up and started to pull myself through the gap. Suddenly, I stopped. I was stuck. My butt would not fit through the window. I cursed my love of chocolate. I wiggled and shimmied until I felt myself slide. I slid right out of my pants and onto the floor with a loud thunk. Leaping up, I grabbed the waistband of my pants and tugged them back up. I held my breath while I waited to hear sirens. I just knew my rear hitting the floor had caused a small earthquake.
After a few terrifying moments, I heaved a sigh of relief and switched on my small penlight. I looked around the room. I spied a desk with an open laptop, a large sectional couch and in front of it, a coffee table stacked with books. My overdue library books. I started across the room. As I neared the table, I felt my foot catch on something on the floor. Quickly righting myself before I fell, I shone my penlight towards the floor. Huey wasn't at karaoke tonight and I didn't think he would be getting lucky ever again. I had found one very naked, very erect and very dead midget.
CHAPTER THREE
“For there is no friend like a sister
In calm or stormy weather;
To cheer one on the tedious way,
To fetch one if one goes astray,
To lift one if one totters down,
To strengthen whilst one stands”
-Christina Rosetti, Goblin Market and Other Poems
"Come on, come on. Pick up!" I hissed into my cell phone as I hit redial and called Juliet for the fifth time. Finally, I heard her answer.
"Could your timing be any worse, Phee? Me not answering the phone the first four times you called should've been a hint that I might be a little busy if you know what I mean?" Juliet gi
ggled. I could hear music and a man's muffled voice in the background.
"I'm in big trouble! Stop whatever you’re doing because I need you to meet me right now! I don't have time to explain on the phone. Just meet me on Oakwyn Street. Velma is parked across from Longfellow Park. Be there in 15 minutes!" I whispered and hung up. I shined the light around the room some more. It lit on Huey's body, and I saw something tied around his neck. Fear knotted my insides as I realized he might be dead from something other than natural causes. I had just broken into his house dressed all in black with a mask. Great. I needed to get out of the house and fast. I grabbed the library books and took one final glance at the body on the floor. Not wanting to risk the window again as my escape route, I slowly inched my way down the hall until I found the kitchen. The door was slightly ajar. I left the house as fast as my short legs could carry me and ran towards Velma not caring who saw me.
Twenty minutes later, Juliet's Karmann Ghia convertible pulled up behind me. A moment later, she opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. She looked at me and snorted loudly. "What the heck is on your forehead? Is that an L?" Her grin grew wider. "And why is it on a mask? Taken up bank robbery as a night job? Hey, if you need a few bucks..."
"Be serious. This is no time to be funny, Juliet.” I said sharply. “This is entirely your fault, by the way. You said quit being so nice and go live a little. I took your advice. I decided to take charge and get all those books back from Huey. I created my very own superhero, Super Librarian, to execute Operation Book Snatcher. And that, my dear little sister, is what the "L" stands for."
"Ummm....Phee, I hate to tell you this, but an "L" in the middle of your forehead is what the cool kids say stands for loser." She made an "L" with her thumb and forefinger and put it to her forehead. "I hope you didn't drag me away from the most magnificent date ever so that I could give you fashion advice. Super Librarian? Operation Book Snatcher? Have you switched from mysteries to comic books lately? Let me guess. There is an evil super genius with eight arms lurking in the bushes, and you need my help to defeat him."
"Huey Long is dead." As the enormity of what I found in the house struck me, I collapsed back against my driver's seat and burst into tears.
"Holy crap! You killed him over some freakin' overdue books! What the..." Juliet looked at me in horror.
"Of course, I didn't kill him!" I sobbed. "I went into his house to get the books back while he was supposed to be at karaoke. I found him dead on the floor." I reached into my glove compartment and grabbed out a couple of napkins. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose loudly.
"Whew! That's a relief. Just a little felony breaking and entering. Not murder. Glad you cleared that up," Juliet said with only a hint of sarcasm. "So what? You discovered him dead. Poor little troll. His heart probably gave out from grabbing up to pinch too many women's asses. That’s assuming he actually had a heart. We’ll call 911 and tell them we came to see Huey. When he didn't answer the door, we walked in and found him dead."
"I don't think he just died. In fact, I know he didn't. There was something really wrong with his body. I’m pretty sure he was murdered.” I began to cry harder.
"What do you mean? Wrong? Tell me exactly what you saw," Juliet demanded.
"I was walking across the living room to grab the books when I accidentally stepped on him. I looked down and there he was. Naked with his eyes all staring up at me and his tongue hanging out and his...." I stopped.
"His what? So far I am not seeing how you think he was killed. Sounds like he was walking around in his birthday suit and dropped dead," Juliet said. "Dead doesn't mean murdered, Phee. Come back to reality and out of your mysteries. You read way too many books. I think you’ve finally cracked."
"I didn't make this up!" I protested. "His Mr. Winky was out, and it was hard. And he had something around his neck. I don't know! I just know that something was really, really wrong!"
Juliet watched me intently. She furrowed her brow, opened her mouth and closed it again without speaking. She sat silently for a few more minutes, and then she turned to me and said, "I want to see him."
"I don't want to go back in there," I shivered despite the late September warmth. I hugged my arms around my chest and shook my head. "No way! Whoever killed him might still be in there! You could be their next victim."
“I seriously doubt they stuck around after hearing you stumbling around in the dark. If someone was there, I am sure they are long gone by now. You don't have to go in with me. I'll go check it out and make sure you didn't leave anything behind. Once I'm done, we'll make an anonymous call to the police and voila! Problem solved."
"What if you get caught?" I asked. "You are too pretty to go to jail and become Betty Lou Brickhouse's girlfriend."
"I won't get caught. Give me your gloves and tell me how you got in. I’ll be there and back before you can say ‘shenanigans’ three times," said Juliet.
"I entered through the back window, but I left through the door in the kitchen. It’s unlocked and sitting wide open. I'm sure that's how the killer left, too. I didn’t take anything with me but my penlight." I slipped my kid gloves off and passed them to her. She forced her long thin fingers into my small gloves stretching them past the point I would ever be able to wear them again. I handed her my small penlight.
"If the gloves don't fit, you must acquit!" Juliet joked weakly in an attempt to cheer me up. She opened the door and slipped out into the darkness.
Twelve long minutes later, she opened the door and hopped back in. My usually confident sister looked a little paler and her cocky smile had turned into a tight-lipped frown.
"Let's go," she said quietly. Slipping off the gloves, she fastened her seat belt and slumped down in the seat.
"Where to?" I shifted Velma into drive, eased away from the curb and drove down the deserted street.
"Head to the Quickie Cow," Juliet replied. "They still have an outside payphone. They closed about a half an hour ago so no one should see us. I think you're right. Huey Long is definitely dead, and he was most definitely murdered."
CHAPTER FOUR
“Crime is common. Logic is rare. Therefore it is upon the logic rather than upon the crime that you should dwell.”
- Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, 'The Copper Beeches' The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes
I pulled Velma into the Quickie Cow and parked next to the payphone. The Quickie Cow is what passes for fast food here in Miller's Cove. It consisted of an old Silverstream trailer converted into a kitchen with a counter and a few tables with umbrellas on a wooden deck attached on the side and back. It served the best jalapeno burgers and thickest peach shakes anywhere. More importantly, it still had an operating payphone in the parking lot. Bless Ma Bell for her invention and forgetting it was still here.
"What should I say?" I asked Juliet as I dug around for change in my leather messenger bag that doubled as my purse. Pulling out two quarters, I got ready to get out and call the sheriff.
"Don't tell them who you are. Try to disguise your voice and say that there's a dead body at 325 Oakwyn Street," Juliet instructed. "Do not give out any more information than you have to and get off the phone fast. We need to have time to be gone and back home before they send someone to Oakwyn Street or here in case they trace the call to the phone booth."
Nodding my head, I slipped my now too large gloves onto my hands and stepped out. Dropping the quarters into the slot, I dialed the number for the Miller's Cove Sheriff. "Miller's Cove Sheriff's Office. How can I help you?" A deep voice that I immediately recognized answered. My stomach dropped into my hobbit-sized feet then flew back up into my throat.
I gulped and squeaked out, "I'd like to report a dead body."
"And your name?" Asked the voice that used to make my heart go pitter patter every day in high school, college, grad school....oh, heck, every single day since he became my older brother Rick's friend when I was ten years old. Clint Mason.
"The body can be found at 325 Oakwyn St
reet. Mr. Huey Long," I stammered out and started to hang up.
"Ophelia Jefferson? Is that you? Phee?" Clint demanded. I quickly hung up and ran back to the van. Hopping in, I started Velma and drove like my mom on her way to a Black Friday sale at Macy's. I could feel myself sweat and my hands were clammy inside the leather gloves.
"Well?" Juliet asked.
"It was Clint. I think he recognized my voice when I said where they could find the body." I inhaled deeply and tried to calm down. Glancing at my speedometer, I realized I was going 55 in a 35 M.P.H. zone. I eased my foot off the pedal. "I am screwed. At least my orange jumpsuit will remind me of Velma while I am in the big house filing callouses off some hardened bank robber's heels and being her bunk time wife." I eased into the driveway of my 1920's bungalow and shifted into park.
"Phee, you aren't going to jail. You found a dead body. You reported a dead body. The house was unlocked. You say you went over there to pick up the books and found the door open. When you stumbled across his body, you panicked and left. You realized it was wrong to leave the scene of the crime, so you pulled into the Quickie Cow and called to report it. Everyone in town knows you, Phee. You’re so honest you make Abe Lincoln look like a pathological liar. You've got this. Just chill the heck out," Juliet said. "And more importantly, my car is still a block from the scene of the crime. You need to get me over there pronto so I can move Ole Blue."
I restarted Velma, backed out of the driveway and drove the two miles to where Juliet's convertible was parked. I didn't hear any sirens and the streets were deserted. Maybe Clint thought it was a prank call. Juliet and I drinking one too many gin rickeys on our weekly girls' night out.
"I'll follow you back to your house," Juliet said. "I need a drink and you most definitely need one. I'll see you back at your place in just a few minutes." She hopped out and walked to her car.
