Berried Alive

by Chelsea Thomas

“I think we need to find him. Fast. Do you know where he is?” Miss May asked.

  “Does it look like I know where he is? My job is to know where he is. And I’m standing in a little cabin up in the forest with an old lady and her clumsy sidekick.”

  “I’m assuming he missed a meeting with you?” Miss May asked.

  “Your assumption would be correct,” James said. “Not just one meeting, either. Several. Which is unlike him. Until a few weeks ago, Wallace was always on time for our little rendezvous.”

  “Until today,” I said. “He had been hanging around Pine Grove.”

  “That’s true,” Miss May said. “But do you know where Wallace was prior to living in Pine Grove? We know about the affordable housing that got torn down on Waverly Place. But where did he go after that?”

  “How do you know about all this crud?” Johnson put his hand back on his gun.

  “Relax,” Miss May said. “Like I said. We’re sleuths.”

  “We also run an apple orchard and bake pies, cookies, and a delicious assortment of breads,” I said. “At the Thomas Family Fruit and Fir Farm, anything is possible and everything is delicious.”

  “Are you advertising your business right now?” Johnson asked.

  “I don’t know what my niece is doing,” Miss May said. “But I’m talking about Wallace. I want to know his history. Is he a threat to the people in Pine Grove? Is it possible he’s lurking in this forest as we speak, hunting for a new victim?”

  “If he’s looking for a new victim, he’d be back in town. It’s not like he knew we were coming up here,” I said.

  “You know what I mean, Chelsea,” Miss May said.

  Johnson groaned. “Enough already! You two are giving me a migraine headache the size of the Sistine Chapel. I don’t have time for this.”

  “Weird metaphor,” I said.

  “Whatever.” James handed us his business card and started back down the hill. “If you see Wallace tell him I was here.”

  “I thought it was your job to find him,” Miss May called.

  Johnson turned back. “It’s his job to be on time for our meetings. Next time I see him, I’m arresting him.”

  Miss May and I watched James Johnson disappear down the hill. That guy had more swagger in his ponytail than most people had in their entire bodies.

  “Be careful,” I called out. “There’s a pack of coyotes on the loose.”

  James took his gun out of his holster and waved it in the air. “I’ll be fine, ladies. Bye now.”

  A few seconds later, Teeny poked her head out from behind a tree. “Is he gone?”

  I clutched my chest and stumbled back. I had totally forgotten Teeny had come with us to the cabin and her presence shocked me.

  “Teeny! You scared me,” I said. “Were you hiding behind a tree this whole time?”

  Teeny nodded. “Big, scary guy comes up the hill, gun on his belt, what would you do?”

  Miss May nodded. “You were smart to hide. That guy may not have been evil, but he was not a good conversationalist.”

  Teeny wiped a chunk of tree bark off her shirt. “Can you girls believe that Wallace fella is such a crook?”

  “I can,” I said.

  “Me too,” said Miss May.

  “I guess that’s true,” Teeny said. “He did seem a lot like a crook. But what does that mean? What do we do now?”

  Miss May looked around. All was quiet. “What can we do? It’s going to be dark soon. We should head back to town.”

  I threw up my hands in protest. “For real? We just discovered a trove of hidden treasure in the cabin.”

  “Maybe we can tell the cops,” Teeny said.

  “Chief Flanagan won’t do anything,” I said. “We need to return the stolen stuff to its owners.”

  Miss May chuckled. “I appreciate your Lady Robinhood mentality. And I agree. Flanagan is a horrible, no good, very bad chief. But if we move those stolen goods or report them, Wallace will know we’re onto him. And the last thing we want is to alert a killer to our presence.”

  “So you really think Wallace is the killer?” Teeny asked.

  Miss May shrugged. “He’s our best suspect.”

  “But why go back to town to find him?” Teeny said. “We’re already up at his secret lair. Let’s wait in the shadows and attack when he returns home, dragging the body of his new victim by the pinky toes.”

  “Teeny!” I said.

  “OK, dragging them by the big toes, then. Is that anatomically correct enough, Chels?”

  I shook my head. I just wanted Teeny to stop talking about dragging corpses by their foot digits.

  “Better idea,” Miss May said. “Let’s be proactive and find Wallace before he kills his next victim. Two birds, one stone.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” Teeny said. “And I suppose my hot sauce may not be super effective against a crazed murderer determined to kill no matter the cost.”

  “At last you admit it,” Miss May said. “Hot sauce is not a weapon.”

  “Next time I’ll bring spicy mustard,” Teeny said. “That’ll get him.”

  Miss May shook her head.

  “So now we head back to town?” I asked. “Try to drum up more info on where Wallace might be?”

  Miss May nodded. “Maybe we can stop for dinner first. Then continue the search.”

  “Works for me,” Teeny said. “I’m hungry! How about chocolate chip cookies for an appetizer, and ice cream for the main course?”

  I chuckled. Teeny was never one to shy away from dessert for dinner. I liked that about her. But my stomach twisted into a tight coil at the thought of food.

  A coyote yapped in the distance and I started down the hill. I may not have been hungry, but I wasn’t in the mood to be eaten, either.

  24

  Lost and Found

  OUR WALK BACK TOWARD town began with excited chatter between Teeny and Miss May about ice cream flavors and toppings.

  But as evening crept closer, the sun waved its slow good-bye, and the forest transformed from a lush green wonderland into a shadowy creep-fest. Like a landscape straight from the minds of the brothers Grimm.

  I had a bad feeling.

  Before long, Miss May and Teeny had caught my bad feeling. Tensions were rising. And none of us seemed to remember how to get out of the forest.

  At first, Miss May suggested we follow the path back the way we came. That made sense, so Teeny and I agreed. But then we came to a fork in the path we had not noticed on our journey toward the cabin. Miss May insisted she knew the right way. Then we came to another fork in the road and she admitted that she felt lost.

  As soon as Miss May uttered the word “lost,” my heart sank.

  Growing up, Miss May and I had gotten lost many times. She was a proud woman. Often too proud to admit when she didn’t know what she was doing. So whenever she did admit a mistake... there was a problem.

  “I can’t be lost!” Teeny said. “I’m too hungry for that. And I’m too scared. This forest is full of trolls!”

  “Trolls?” I said.

  Teeny gave me a dirty look.

  I shrugged. “I’m sorry. But I don’t think trolls are our number one concerned.”

  “They are!” Teeny insisted.

  “But are they?”

  “You’re telling me, if you saw a troll right now, that wouldn’t be your number one concern?”

  “I mean, I guess, but there are no trolls here!”

  “Ladies!” Miss May said. “We can’t turn on each other right now. We’re three smart, resourceful women. Chelsea, you went to Duke for goodness sakes. We need to put our heads together and find our way out of here.”

  It’s not like I studied cartography, I thought. But even so, I wanted to help. I looked around to try to determine which way we should walk. I pointed at the fading sun. “OK. The sun is going that way. So what does that mean?”

  Teeny huffed. “The sun rises in the west and sets in the east, Chelsea.”


  “The sun rises in the east!” I snipped.

  “It does not,” Teeny said. “You wouldn’t know the sun if it bit you in the face.”

  I turned to Miss May. So did Teeny. My aunt winced. “I think Chelsea’s right but I’m not sure. Ugh. I’m terrible with directions!”

  Teeny balled up her fists. “You’re not allowed to be terrible with directions! You insisted you knew the right direction!”

  “I thought I did,” Miss May said. “But now everything looks like...trees.”

  “I don’t understand how we got so lost,” I said. “We walked straight up the hill. Doesn’t it follow that to get home all we needed to do was walk straight down the hill?”

  “The hill went up, then the hill went down, then the hill went up again. It’s the hill’s fault!” Teeny said.

  “OK,” Miss May said, “let’s calm down and use our heads. The hills surrounding Pine Grove are pure nature in every direction except toward town. So maybe we can listen for traffic or something. And walk toward the sound.”

  I exhaled. Finally a good idea. “OK. Let’s listen.”

  We closed our eyes and listened for traffic. The only problem was that it was almost 7 PM. By that time most people had deserted Pine Grove. So we needed to focus if we wanted to hear anything.

  After a few seconds, Miss May opened her eyes. “Do you hear that?”

  I shrugged. So did Teeny.

  “I think it’s the sound of a lawnmower. Here the growling? Didn’t the town just buy two mowers for that overgrown baseball field near Brook Road?”

  “Oh yeah,” I said. “You’re right. I think I hear it.”

  Miss May walked toward the sound of the lawnmowers. Teeny and I followed.

  We walked for a few more minutes but somehow the sound got further away. A raven cawed and swooped right across our path. The wildlife of the Pine Grove woods was really spooking up my vibes today.

  As the sun finally set, and we slipped into a gray dusk, my chest tightened. And my head swirled with nightmarish images of the three of us, growing long beards and sucking sap from trees for sustenance.

  “Miss May... What do we do if we’re actually lost?” I said. “I don’t wanna suck a tree!”

  “Well we have no phone service.” Miss May shrugged. “Maybe we huddle together for warmth?”

  “I call cream!” Teeny said.

  “What does that mean, ‘cream’?” I asked.

  “If we’re making a human Oreo, I want to be the cream. That way I get maximum warmth.”

  Oh boy. This was getting desperate.

  “It’s not that weird,” Teeny said. “You girls have more built-in cream. I need the extra flubber.”

  I laughed. “That is so rude!”

  “Is not,” Teeny said. “I love your flubber. That flubber is what’s gonna keep you from dying in the woods!”

  “Quit saying flubber!” Miss May pointed in a new direction. “This way. Follow me.”

  “You know where you’re going now?” I asked.

  “Yup,” Miss May said. “I’m walking a thousand steps straight in that direction. No more zigging and zagging. Just a straight line. OK?”

  “Works for me,” Teeny said.

  “Works for me too,” I said.

  “Good. I’ll count.” Miss May counted her steps aloud as she walked and Teeny and I followed behind.

  But right around step number ten, Miss May tripped over a log, lost her footing and took a tumble...right down the side of a hill.

  Teeny and I tripped over the same log and fell down the hill after her. And the resulting thump-thump to the bottom was not pretty.

  I tried to grab a tree branch to slow my fall. It cut my hand and I kept tumbling. I rolled over a boulder, which caught me in the ribs with a sickening crunk. I clawed at the ground with desperation, but to no avail.

  I didn’t stop moving until I got the bottom of the hill.

  Crunch. Thud. “Ouch.”

  Right on top of Miss May.

  Thank goodness for that extra flubber, I thought.

  Teeny rolled to a stop a few feet beside me, cursing under her breath. And the three of us spent the next ten seconds groaning. Then I sat up and winced, rubbing my arm.

  “Is everyone OK?” I asked.

  Teeny pulled herself up beside me. “I’m all right.”

  ”I’m OK too,” Miss May said. “But he’s not.”

  Miss May gestured behind me. I turned.

  And there was Wallace the Traveler...

  ...impaled on a stick.

  Dead.

  25

  Killed and Kebabbed

  DISCOVERING WALLACE, skewered as he was, I felt the same way I always did upon discovering a body. Devastated. Sad. And no longer hungry.

  Wallace had been such an intimidating presence on the streets of Pine Grove. Angry. Yelling. Unpredictable. All that rage and recklessness had somehow distanced me from the vulnerability behind it. But in so many ways, Wallace had been a childlike presence around town. He had spoken his mind. He had expressed his emotions. And he’d danced like no one was watching even though everyone was.

  That day in the forest, his vulnerability was all I saw. Dying is the ultimate vulnerability, I thought. But it was more than Wallace’s particular predicament, his eyes looked so helpless.

  Teeny’s lip quivered. “We’re so lucky we survived that fall. If we had landed like he did...”

  Miss May inhaled through her nose. “He didn’t land like this. Look at the angle of the stick. He was...”

  “Kebabbed?” I said.

  “That’s a horrifying way of putting it, but yes,” Miss May said.

  I looked a few feet away from Wallace’s corpse and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  “Miss May, look! It’s Rosenberg’s briefcase!”

  Indeed, there was the briefcase, wedged in a nearby bush.

  I limped over and picked the case up. When I grabbed it, the briefcase flopped open and several folders and papers spilled out.

  Miss May hurried over. “The fall broke the lock?”

  “Or someone else did,” I said. “Maybe Wallace figured out how to open it.”

  Miss May shook her head. “And KP said it wasn’t possible.”

  A coyote yowled in the distance and my arms tightened. I remembered we were lost in the woods, with at least eight coyotes nearby.

  “Uh-oh,” I said.

  Miss May looked over at me. “What?”

  “I forgot. Coyotes can be carrion-feeders.”

  “What does that mean?” Miss May asked.

  I gulped. “If they’re hungry, they’ll eat almost anything. Including um, dead things.”

  “I’m not worried about that,” Miss May said. “I’m more concerned there’s a killer on the loose. And they could be hiding anywhere.”

  “We should go,” I said. “Now.”

  Miss May nodded. But Teeny couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from the body.

  I had forgotten, Teeny hadn’t come face-to-face with as many murder victims as Miss May and I had.

  “I feel like we should say something,” Teeny said. “A few words for the deceased.”

  Miss May nodded. “OK. Chelsea, you can do it.”

  “Why do I have to do it?” I asked.

  “Will you just talk?” Miss May glared.

  “OK. Fine.” I took a deep breath. “Let’s see. Wallace, we didn’t know you well. And it seems like life might have dealt you a rough hand. But you danced with grace, and you moved through the world on your own terms. That’s the noblest way anyone can live. And I’ll miss seeing you in Pine Grove.”

  “Amen,” Teeny said.

  We bowed our heads in a spontaneous gesture of respect. Then Miss May started away.

  “Hold on a second!” I said.

  Miss May turned back. “What?”

  “The briefcase!” I said.

  Miss May shook her head. ”Oh my goodness. All right. Gather it up and let’s go.”

/>   “Give me two seconds.” I tried to read the documents as I scooped them into the broken briefcase. But it was too dark.

  I turned back to Miss May. “We’re keeping these, right? We can read them later?”

  Miss May nodded. “I think we should report Wallace’s death to the police. But yeah... There’s no way we’re turning those papers over to the cops before we get a look at them.”

  “Don’t turn them over ever,” Teeny said. “That corrupt chief will burn them in her fireplace without even reading!”

  I shuffled the last document into the briefcase and squeezed it shut. “Got it. Let’s go.”

  As dusk turned to night, the lights of Pine Grove twinkled, and we used them to guide us as we trudged back to town.

  Once we stumbled out of the forest, we stashed the briefcase under some blankets in the back of Miss May’s van, then headed toward the police department to report Wallace’s death.

  FLANAGAN CROSSED HER arms as we entered the precinct. “Well. Look what the cat vomited on the carpet. What do you three want?”

  Miss May told Flanagan about Wallace. Flanagan rolled her eyes and scoffed throughout.

  Then, once Miss May stopped talking, Flanagan spoke with a cold and impersonal tone. “Thanks for the information, ladies. I’ll let the coroner’s office know. And I’ll send Officer Hercules over to check out the scene.”

  “Hercules!” I cried. “He can barely answer the phones without tripping over his own feet!”

  Scrawny little Hercules looked up from a game of solitaire at the reception desk. “Hey! I heard that.”

  “No offense, Hercules. I just think a kebabbed man in the forest deserves multiple officers. I know that sounds harsh, but it’s just true.”

  “Miss Thomas, please,” Flanagan said. “Control your babbling fits.”

  “I wasn’t even babbling!” I said.

  “You were about to,” Flanagan said. “And we have police work to do. Did you not say you, your aunt, and Tiny rolled down the hill where you found the deceased?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “So is it not possible, nay, likely, that the deceased also fell down that hill and was, as you said, ’kebabbed’ in the process?”

  I huffed. “That kebabbing was no accident!”