by Deany Ray
“Oh, I love a guessing game,” Marge squeaked. “Was it the mayor? Or the mailman? Or maybe it was Elvis?” She gasped in delight. “Was it? Was it Elvis?”
Celeste rolled her eyes. “Marge, that’s just ridiculous. Don’t you know he died? Like a million years ago?”
Marge turned serious. “It could have been a hoax. Don’t believe everything you read. That might have been a way to start a brand-new life, away from all the cameras.” She put her hand up to her mouth. “That would make us famous if it was really him. We’d be the detectives who found Elvis in our first month of business!”
“It was Lou!” I interrupted. “Lou was outside the kitchen with his face pressed against the window.”
They stared at me in silence.
I described the way my brother had wrestled with him in the yard, only to be met with a stream of foul air aimed right into his face. Celeste gasped, and then we laughed so hard that one of the mechanics slid out from underneath a car to make sure we were okay.
“It was quite a morning,” I said when I could catch my breath. “And I have some other news. I’m moving out this week. I’m putting a deposit down on an apartment. The Garden Manors one.”
“That’s great,” Marge said, excited. “We can help you pack.” She thought for just a moment. “Because we need to hang out near your parents’ place ASAP. Lou might still be somewhere close.”
“I did leave some pickles all around the neighborhood,” I said. “So, he probably thinks it’s as good a place as any to hang out.” That got us to giggling once again.
“We should definitely have a look around your neighborhood,” Celeste looked thoughtful. “And I’d love to see your family. I’ve missed your father’s jokes since we quit working at the diner. And I never met your mom, although she came in just a few times when I was working there. Plus, I agree with Marge. We should help you pack.”
“Oh, that’s nice of you to offer,” I said, “but I don’t have that much stuff.”
I didn’t relish the idea of exposing my friends to the craziness that was the Cooper home. I did suspect, however, that Marge would love my mom. In no time flat, Marge would be dancing with the oldsters in the front yard. She’d be begging for my mother to read the color of her aura.
“My dad misses you,” I said to them both. He sometimes teased me at family dinners about stealing his best help. “He says that nobody could keep the coffee refills coming like Marge and Celeste could do. Plus, he loved to tease the two of you. Some of the employees don’t quite know how to deal with his weird sense of humor.”
“And we never met your youngest brother,” Marge squeaked. “Is he cute? I have my eye on someone, but maybe for Celeste…”
Crazy caramel brownie bites! Celeste and Brad would be the most mismatched couple in the world.
“Believe me. Brad is absolutely not the man for either one of you. I love my brother, I do. But he’d drive any woman nuts. And I should warn you. My mother – she’s just…different.” Was there any way out of this?
“Well, that settles that,” Celeste said. “We’ll set up a reconnaissance operation at the Cooper home.”
Great.
“My father will be thrilled,” I said.
“I have your information,” Gil said, emerging from his office. He gave Celeste the paper back. “I wrote the name down here. And also an address. It’s registered to some company.”
We all peered down at the paper. PiJD Ltd – 34 Mill Road.
“You ever heard of that place, Gil?” Celeste asked.
He shook his head. “The company name sounds funny. In my experience, it could be a front for some illegal business. I see it all the time.”
How did he know that kind of stuff? Just who did the guy hang out with? He scared me just a little. On the other hand, I wished that he had been around when there was a panda in my front yard who needed to be caught. I got the idea that Gil was tough.
We thanked him and headed out. As soon as we stepped out into the parking lot, Celeste had a plan. “Let’s all go in Charlie’s car to check out this address.”
I agreed to drive us. But on one condition. “If anyone is sneaking in, it’s someone else’s turn.”
***
Mill Road, of course, turned out to be smack dab in the rougher part of Springston. There wasn’t much there except a sprawling complex of large storage units. The place was surrounded by overgrown bushes, deep ditches, and scattered limbs and trash.
“Just as I expected,” Celeste said. “This little business, with a name nobody can pronounce, doesn’t exactly look like a thriving enterprise.”
“Let’s look for 34,” I said, slowing down to check the numbers. I stopped and parked when I got to 27. I didn’t want anyone to link my car with whatever dubious goings on might be associated with unit 34.
Besides, I saw something a little bit further down the road that set my heart to racing. It was Baxter’s van. Hmm. So, we meet again.
As we got closer, we saw no sign of anyone around.
“Look inside the van,” Marge told me in a whisper.
“Not me!” I whispered back. “Our name is CMC. The M and the other C need to take a turn at the kind of spying that might get our sweet selves killed.”
“I’ll do it,” Celeste said.
Marge and I held our breath while she walked around the van, peeking into the darkened windows. Then she shook her head. “Nobody there. Maybe he’s inside?”
We gazed over at the unit. The metal pull-down door was closed. There were no windows to peek in. Like three good detectives, we looked to the left and to the right, then we tiptoed to the door. My heart was pounding hard against my chest. This could turn out bad.
A thousand thoughts ran through my head, like what an awful idea this had been for starting a new business. I also decided then and there that we should do things differently the next time we snuck off some dangerous locale. Were there websites where you could order three bulletproof vests? We should at least have pepper spray. Was it too late to go back and get my degree in teaching?
When we got to the storage unit, we leaned in to listen. We lined up in the order of our height, Celeste, then me, then Marge, the same intent expression glued on every face.
We heard shuffling. Shoot. I’d been hoping that he wasn’t there, which was kind of foolish, really, given the fact that his van was parked right out in front.
We held our breath and strained to hear, then we heard something else; I wasn’t sure exactly what.
“What could he be doing?” Marge asked in the world’s loudest whisper.
“Shhh!” Celeste and I hissed together.
We pressed our ears more closely against the metal. We heard what sounded like boxes being dragged. Which made sense, I guess, given the scene at the apartment. What could he be putting in those boxes? I tried to come up with ideas, but I came up short. In my time with the police in Boston, no crime had ever involved a huge supply of cardboard boxes. Still, it was a good way to distract myself from the other question running through my head: what might happen when this Baxter guy discovered three unwanted guests outside?
I had a sense of déjà vu. It hadn’t been that long ago that I was in this very situation, worried about the same bad dude and the tragedy that could follow if he found a stranger snooping around his business.
Never again, I’d thought then. And now here I was. What was wrong with me?
We heard keys jingle. We heard footsteps. The footsteps were getting closer. My heart was pounding so hard that I was afraid it might jump right through my chest.
Without saying a word to one another, we made an impressive sprint across the road, leapt over a deep ditch, and hid behind some bushes. If my old PE teacher had been watching, she would have been very proud of her former slow and clumsy student. If I had known back then to imagine a felon close behind me, I would have come in first place in every single race.
From behind the bushes, we watched as the door slid u
p and open. We’d made it just in time.
A slouched figure slowly ambled out. The man was Baxter’s size. He was Baxter’s age or close. But he wasn’t Baxter.
We shot questioning looks at each other. Who was this brand-new dude?
He turned his back to us and began to slowly pull down the door. I peeped just a tiny bit above the bushes to see if I could catch a glimpse inside of the unit, but all I could see was a darkened space and the tall silhouette of boxes stacked one on top of the other.
With keys in hand, the mystery dude headed toward the van. With my heart still hammering, I made a mental note: the next time I made a valiant sprint to safety, I’d head as far away as possible from the bad guy’s van instead of running toward it. I tried to breathe very quietly. I hoped Celeste and Marge would do the same.
I heard the car door shut and the sound of the ignition starting up. Please. Just hurry up and leave. But the sound coming from the car didn’t leave me very hopeful. It was a sputtering kind of noise that was familiar to anyone who drove a junker. The mystery dude was having trouble getting the van to start.
He tried a second time and then a third. But that’s it. I heard a boom so loud my head began to spin. It jolted me hard and sent vibrations through my body.
That’s the last thing I remember before everything went dark.
Chapter Ten
When I came to, I felt like a knife had been plunged into my head; the ache was that intense. I tried to look around, but just the slightest movement made tears spring to my eyes.
Where was I? What had happened? Was I lying on the ground? It felt like it. But lying down good! Because I was so tired. Maybe I could sleep. I imagined two pillows beneath my head, a soft blanket bundling me against the breeze that had suddenly turned cold.
When I opened my eyes again, everything had become a blur. There was the sky. And there were a few white clouds. And there was…Alex. Alex? What was Alex doing here? And where was here exactly? I had so many questions.
Even through the blur, I could see a sad look on Alex’s face. He was trying to tell me something, but he wasn’t making any sound. He looked almost frantic. He looked scared to death. Had something happened with his police work that had gotten him riled up?
Something was coming back to me. Wasn’t there some case we were working on together? I couldn’t quite remember. Was he trying to communicate some information about that? Some new clue we had to check out, some bad guy we had to grab? Or was it a panda? I seemed to think it was panda that we had to catch. But how ridiculous was that? I must be in a dream.
Now it looked like he was shouting, but still no sound came out, only a kind of zooming somewhere in the background. This was a very quiet place. I could tell he needed help. I wished that I could help him, but it felt so good to lie there. Crime solving would have to wait while I had just a little nap. I closed my eyes and slept.
Strangely, he was still there when I woke again, and the man was looking fine. I wanted to touch his soft, brown hair and the stubble on his chin. This had to be a dream. What else could it be? Strange dream, I must say. He looked so real that I could almost touch his face.
Those eyes. Look at those eyes, I thought. I imagined him gaze at me oh so tenderly. And then he’d say the words: I love you, Charlie Cooper. Was he saying them right now as he bent over me? He looked so intense. Who turned the sound down on this dream?
I stared into his face. Then I reached up to stroke his cheek.
“I love you too,” I said.
Then the sound came on full volume. Whoa, bad sound, turn it off again!
I looked at Alex one more time. Why did he look confused? I tried to sit up, but the knife inside my head seemed to plunge in even deeper.
It was at that point that things began to get intense and loud. I heard sirens and shouting.
“Quick,” one voice said. “Another victim in the ditch. There’s another one right here!”
“Let’s collect all that as evidence. Put that in a bag,” someone said close behind me. “And don’t forget to tag it. Hope we can get some prints.”
“Charlie!” Alex leaned closer to my face. “Charlie, can you hear me?”
Sheesh. Don’t yell. My head!
“What the hell is going on?” I grabbed hold of his hand.
“You don’t remember the explosion?”
Explosion? Things started to come back: a rental unit filled with boxes, a guy who looked like Baxter but who was really someone else. That’s when I remembered everything. This was not a dream.
I stared up at Alex, and it hit me. For the love of lemon cookies, had I stroked his face? My chest seized up in panic. Had I told him that I loved him? Because I did not – no way. Well, maybe in the dream. Talk about humiliation.
An ambulance screeched to stop a nearby, and I remembered something else; my friends had been here as well when everything went down.
“Marge!” I yelled. “Celeste!” I looked up at Alex. “You have to find them now.”
He squeezed my hand. “Charlie, they’re okay.” He glanced over to his left. “They’re working on them now. But it looks like both your friends are gonna be just fine.”
Two guys appeared beside me then. One of them spoke to me very gently. “Okay, we’re gonna lift you up and take you to the hospital. We’ll get you all checked out.”
They slid me onto a stretcher. They worked very slowly, but every little movement set my head to pounding.
I was only glad that we were okay. All three of us were fine. All three of us survived.
The ride in the ambulance was a blur at breakneck speed. The two guys hovered over me, sticking a mask over my nose and mouth, and coming at me with all kinds of whatnots made of cold, hard steel. What was it they were measuring? What were they trying to prevent? Best not to even know. I was, after all, somewhat of a wuss. A problem I would have to overcome if I pursued a career of investigating.
Everything had been so lovely when I’d been asleep. If they would just stop poking at me, I’d go to sleep again.
Which I must have done, because when I opened my eyes again, I was in a bed. I looked around. The beeping monitors and drab green walls confirmed that, yes, this was the hospital. I’d never had to stay in a hospital before. I didn’t think that I would like it. But everything was still a blur.
I moved my head a little to the right. Hey, it almost didn’t hurt. Perhaps hospitals and doctors weren’t so bad after all. I spotted my glasses on the nightstand. Carefully, I reached out to them (Ugh!) and slid them up my nose. Next, I moved my head to the left. Alex was sprawled out in a big brown chair, his head lolled adorably to one side. His hair fell across his eyes, and he was snoring just a little. A magazine dangled from his fingers. It looked like any minute it might drop down to the floor.
Since I had nothing to do but lie back and enjoy, I took my time admiring his muscled legs which were stretched out long in front of him. Then I remembered what I had told him at the scene of the explosion. Mortified, I looked away. Wait a minute. Why was he even here? Did he not have bad guys to catch, reports to fill out…something? Although, I had to admit (Damn it!) I felt somewhat safer with him being in the room.
A nurse came in and smiled. “Good morning, Ms. Cooper. How do you feel this evening?”
Evening? How long had I been sleeping?
“My head feels better. Thank you.”
She poured me some water from a yellow plastic pitcher that sat beside the bed. “I’m very glad to hear it.” She took a folder from a nearby table and wrote something down. Then she looked at a little monitor with lots of jumping lines. It was attached to me with a cord.
Oh, sheesh. Did she look kind of worried, or was that my imagination? Were those little lines jumping in the wrong direction? Were they jumping too fast? Too slow? Was it my heart, my brain? Don’t let it be my brain. That would be the worst.
The nurse turned a little knob just below the screen.
“Everything okay?” I as
ked.
She smiled. “Everything is fine. The doctor should be in to see you soon. I’ll let her know that you’re awake. And then we should be able to send you home today.”
“Hey, look who decided to wake up.” The deep familiar voice was coming from the corner.
I turned to see Alex grin and brush his hair out of his eyes.
“You had a little snooze yourself,” I said. “Did you know you snore?”
“You scared us all this morning.” His look turned serious. “Talk about being in the wrong place at the exact wrong time.”
Yes! Let’s talk about explosions. And never, ever mention the things I’d done (and said!) when I thought I was in a dream.
I sat up a little straighter in the bed. “What exactly happened?”
He leaned forward in his chair. “One of the suspects in my case started up his van and the thing exploded like all get out. Apparently, the three of you were close when everything just blew. They think the impact blew you back into a big, sharp rock, and you hit your head real good. You’ve got some nasty scratches on your leg because of all of the debris that flew out everywhere.” He looked me in the eye. “You were lucky, Charlie. Next time might be different. These are dangerous felons we’re dealing here with.”
Tell me something I don’t know.
“How long have I been here?”
He pulled out his cell to check the time. “Let’s see, we got here yesterday at four, so…we’ve been here fifteen hours.”
Omg, I slept through an entire day? And what does he mean by we? What was he doing here? Thank you; now, please go. Seriously, he should leave. The guy looked absolutely whipped.
“Are Marge and Celeste still here, or have the girls gone home?” I asked. “You said they were okay.”
