by Ami Diane
“Wait here.”
Ella jogged back down the hall, through the lobby, and poked her head through the doorway for the showroom. A dimly lit room filled with more coffins than a graveyard welcomed her. Flo stood at the far end alongside the skeleton that was Jensen.
Although Ella had encountered death all too often in recent months, she’d always found the subject uncomfortable. She kept her eyes forward as she approached the other two.
“Flo,” she began as preamble, “can I borrow your purse? I need some ginger drops to calm my stomach.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Flo clutched the ginormous handbag and didn’t move. Reaching out, Ella attempted to pry the bag loose.
“I just need to borrow it for a minute.”
“I said okay.”
“Then let go.”
Ella grunted then with a final tug, the bag came free of the woman’s death grip on her precious purse. She shot the undertaker a sheepish smile, thanked Flo through gritted teeth, and fled the showroom faster than a kid chasing an ice cream truck.
When she returned to the door of the exam room, she didn’t waste any time tipping the contents of Flo’s handbag of horrors onto the ground.
Wink knelt beside her, and, together, they sifted through the belongings in search of the lock picking kit.
“Do you think this is it?” Ella held up a small oblong container.
“No, that’s a belly button brush kit.”
The container fell with a clatter to the floor.
“Ew, ew, ew.” She then proceeded to pour alcohol from the flask she found onto her hands while gagging.
“Focus,” Wink said. “We don’t have much time.” As she said this, she carefully slid aside a Chinese throwing star.
“Got it.”
Ella fished out a black case and unzipped it. She’d watched Flo use the kit a few times, and if the crazy boarder could do it, how hard could it be?
After several tense moments of struggling and a close call where the tool became stuck in the lock, Wink hissed for her to step aside. In under a minute, she had the door open.
“You learn a thing or two being best friends with Flo over the years.”
Ella scooped up Flo’s belongings, saying, “You know, sometimes I wonder if you are the sane one.”
“So, do I.”
Chapter 11
ELLA AND WINK found themselves in a small room with a strong stench of formaldehyde and pennies. The cramped space was a far cry from the Hollywood versions on TV, but that, in large part, might’ve had something to do with the fact that the place had previously been a storage closet. Gloves, goggles, syringes, and all manner of saws lay on trays like a scene in a horror movie.
“So… this is nice.” She attempted the most upbeat tone she could muster, but that didn’t stop her stomach from threatening to spill its contents. “Er, where’s the body?”
“I’m guessing in there.”
Wink inclined her head towards a thick metal door set in the wall. Beside it were controls, and the overall chrome appearance suggested the setup was a step-in freezer.
“Ah, yes. A cold storage room.”
Wink side-eyed her, one eyebrow quirking up.
“I think you’re really underestimating how much television I watched before coming here.”
“Are all of the shows in the future so obsessed with crime and death?”
“You’ve no idea.” Ella strained as she pulled on the door.
Slowly, Wink reached out and turned the deadbolt. “Try again.”
“Yep. Just was warming up the old muscles.”
Ella gave another tug. This time, the swung out on silent hinges. White clouds of condensation drifted out, making the atmosphere feel all the more eery. After a moment of bumbling around inside the cold, cramped space, she located the light switch and flipped it, flooding the room with sterile light.
The interior was a little larger than a pantry. She and Wink squeezed inside. A shelf ran lengthwise away from them with a body bag lying on top.
Ella indicated Wink’s purse. “Where’s the beef?” Her face cracked open in a big grin.
“What’s so funny?”
Ella composed herself, remembering why they were there. “It’s nothing. But seriously, where’s the sample of toothmarks from Peanut?”
Wink produced the slab wrapped in butcher paper from her purse. The paper was pulled away, revealing a glistening surface that indicated the specimen was thawing. Ella wrapped her arms around herself to keep her core warm.
“Alright, let’s take a look.”
“Yes. Let’s.”
They blinked at each other.
“Yep, time to unzip the body bag,” she prodded.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Yep.”
They continued to stare at each other in a stalemate.
“Are you going to look?” Ella asked finally.
“Are you?”
“Why do I have to be the one?”
“Because I picked the lock and have the sample.” Wink flashed the hunk of frozen beef.
“He’s your dinosaur.” Ella breathed into her hands, bouncing on her toes to keep warm. They really hadn’t thought this part through. Finally, she relinquished. “Yeah, alright. I’ll do it.”
“Atta girl.”
Ella’s frozen fingers gripped the zipper. “Here I go.”
Wink nodded encouragingly.
“I’m unzipping it.”
Her boss shifted on her feet. “We don’t have all day.”
Her breath came out in a fog as she gripped the zipper pull tightly. Squeezing her eyes shut, she yanked. The cramped cold room filled with the rip of the zipper being drawn.
When she felt like she’d undone enough, she peeled an eye open. Wink had her back turned, and she appeared to be studying a shelf intently. Her skin was a sickly hue, but that might have been an effect of the light.
Reluctantly, Ella forced her gaze down in one sweeping motion then quickly looked away.
After she fought back bile, she said, “There’s a problem. She’s too mangled. Well, at least the parts I saw, anyway.”
She zipped the bag back up. Her mind had dulled the memory, softened the gore and the damage to Mary’s remains.
“What do we do?” Wink’s voice rose as they stepped out of the storage freezer.
Ella breathed in lungfuls of the stringent air, a thought occurring to her. “Does the meat have claw marks as well?”
Wink checked. “Yes. What are you thinking?”
“Quick, find Mary’s personal belongings. They would’ve gathered them and stored them here, right?”
“Possibly? Unless Brandon picked them up.”
Ella paused amid searching a shelf and swore under her breath. The poor young man had slipped her mind. Here she was, concerned about helping a dinosaur when a son had just lost his mother. As soon as she finished, she’d think of a way to make it right, either by delivering one of Wink’s pies or asking Rose to cook a meatloaf.
“I think this is her stuff.”
Wink slid a cardboard box out and opened it. Inside was Mary’s purse with the three claw marks marring the fabric.
Ella pulled out the personal item and had Wink lay the frozen beef beside it. Using sophisticated tools like their fingers, they measured the marks.
“They don’t match,” Wink breathed out in relief.
To be sure, they located a ruler and performed a more proper measurement comparison. The gashes on the purse were farther apart, wider, and deeper.
“They don’t,” Ella confirmed at last.
If they took this to Chapman, maybe he could ask Pauline to do a more thorough analysis. Perhaps the doctor could find bite marks on the body in a place Ella hadn’t seen between the cracks in her fingers.
She looked back in the box. The contents of the purse had been tipped out, and she jostled tubes of lipstick, a compact mirror, and other things aside.
“What’re you loo
king for?”
“A book.”
The day of the debate, after Mary’s body had been hauled off, Ella had remained behind as Chapman searched the area, hoping he’d find what she could not. He’d combed the area with more care than he did his mustache and had come away only with the purse.
Where had the book gone?
A voice spoke behind them. “You ladies finding what you need?”
Ella and Wink froze, their hands still on the meat and purse.
Ella recognized the voice, but her brain refused to accept it. Their backs were still to the door.
She whispered to Wink, “Do you think that’s Jensen?”
“It’s not,” Sheriff Chapman drawled.
She still refused to turn around. “He does a really good impression of Chapman.” Her voice ticked up louder. “Who I’ve always thought was a very nice, merciful, handsome man.”
At a growl from the sheriff, they turned to face him.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” Ella said quickly. “Actually, maybe it does. What does this look like to you?”
Wink pointed at their feet to the purse and beef. “Peanut didn’t kill Mary. We have proof.”
“That so?”
Chapman stepped into the room, dwarfing it further and making it suddenly feel stuffy. At the same time, there was a notable absence to his presence. It took Ella a moment to identify it.
“Hey, you’re not wearing spurs. Well, that’s just not fair; now you can sneak up on us.”
His mustache twitched. “I know. You two wanna tell me how you got in here?”
“Opened the door? Don’t take this the wrong way, and not that we’re not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?” Ella inhaled sharply. “Wait, are you picking out your casket, too? Because—not that I’ve pictured you dying or anything—but I see you more as a ‘just bury me in a shallow grave’ kind of man.”
The temperature in the room dropped like they’d stepped back into the cold storage room.
“As I said,” she added weakly, “very handsome. And healthy-looking too. Doesn’t he look healthy, Wink? Like he could live for another thirty years? Someone please stop me.” The last sentence came out as a whimper.
“Jensen called me,” Chapman began, putting her out of her misery. “Said some lady with crazy hair was threatening to lock him in a coffin after he skirted her advances.”
“Where is Flo?” Wink asked suddenly.
Chapman told them the crazy woman was out front, awaiting them so all three could be escorted back to the inn.
“Will you at least look at the evidence?” Ella gestured to the meat and handbag.
A shift in the light in his eyes made them appear to soften. He dipped his chin in a subtle nod.
Hurriedly, they showed him the comparison of the claw marks and explained that there might be teeth marks to compare as well. He set the beef in the cooler, replaced Mary’s purse in the box, and promised to have Pauline take a closer look.
When they returned to the lobby, Jensen was nowhere in sight, but Flo greeted them with a sour expression, mostly aimed at Chapman.
“Where’s my purse?” was her first question.
Ella hefted the handbag off her shoulder and massaged where it had been resting before stretching her back.
“It’s a miracle you don’t walk lopsided.
“Who says she doesn’t?” Wink asked.
After taking his derby hat from a coat tree and dropping it over his swath of silver hair, Chapman pointed them towards the door.
He stepped through first to make sure Main Street was free of predators of the dinosaur variety before gesturing them outside. As the group waded down the sidewalk, with Chapman and Horse in tow, Ella peppered him with questions about the autopsy report.
After the tenth question, he finally relented.
“Pauline suspects that whatever attacked Mrs. Kirkland’s an adult, but she hasn’t ruled out Wink’s juvenile just yet. I think she feels out of her depth with these creatures.” He ducked under the barber pole outside Sal’s Barbershop. “The real question is why Mrs. Kirkland was targeted.”
Ella’s steps faltered, and Horse nudged her back. “What do you mean ‘targeted’?”
He let out a slow breath. Ahead, Wink and Flo, who up until this point had been arguing about the best seasoning for spaghetti, quieted.
“When Pauline was, what’s it called? Inventorying Mary’s belongings, she found bits of meat in her purse.”
“That wasn’t smart. Although, I understand wanting to keep protein—”
“Raw meat.”
Ella drew a face. “Well, that’s just unsanitary. Of course, who am I to talk? I once ate raw fish straight from the pole…” She caught the sheriff’s eyes and coughed. “What kind of meat?”
“Why you asking? I may be unconventional, Ms. Barton, but I’m performing an investigation and like to keep some details private.”
“Fair enough.”
They would be arriving at the inn soon. At some point, both she and the sheriff overcame Wink and Flo, and he had to holler for them to keep up while at the same time slowing Horse’s pace.
Ella churned this new information over. “Mary had meat in her purse…. Is Pauline certain it wasn’t jerky? I could understand carrying dried meat around if it’s a snack for later. Sometimes, I get hungry and wish I had something on hand. It’s not exactly smart carrying meat around while surrounded by dinosaurs, but who am I to judge?”
“It wasn’t jerky.”
Beneath him, Horse snorted and flicked his ears.
“Who the Hamburger Helper carries raw meat in their purse?” Without looking back, she jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the geriatric twins. “Besides Flo, that is.”
When they reached the gate for Keystone Inn, she let Wink and Flo pass and navigate the path to the stoop, while she and Chapman hung back.
“So, Mary’s death was intentional?”
“Looks that way.”
Her mind shot off in ten different directions. Someone had slipped that meat in the woman’s purse, knowing it would attract the local wildlife, and the guilty party had managed to time the attack to coincide with the debate—when the noise of music would drown out any potential cries for help.
“I was the last to see her alive,” she said softly. “Well, Brandon and I.”
She groaned. The kid was going to need therapy after this, the poor soul.
“There’s nothing you could’ve done.”
Still mounted on his steed, the sheriff scanned the street for signs of danger, looking everywhere but at her, a stalwart man of few words and generally uncomfortable with emotional topics. Ella commiserated, which was why she liked him. They were two souls cut from the same cloth.
“On second thought, I wasn’t the last to see Mary alive.”
Her eyes traced an invisible path along the sidewalk, the one the campaign manager had taken that fatal day on her way to the park.
“She left the store to have a last-minute meeting with Sal just before the debate.”
“How do you know that?”
She swallowed and shifted on her feet. “I may or may not have overheard her conversation on the phone just beforehand.”
Her eyes lifted to meet his steely gaze. “She’d said she’d found the smoking gun they’d both been looking for and that it would get him elected for sure. In hindsight, I presume that was his accusations about you.”
Chapman was silent, performing that brooding gaze he’d mastered, his eyes unfocused. She could almost hear the gears in his head turning. Finally, he broke the muggy silence.
“Looks like I’ll have to make chin music with our acting mayor.”
Unsure of an appropriate response, Ella said, “Well, better music from the chin than other places.”
Shaking his head, he flicked the reins in his hands. She missed the sound of his spurs and wondered why he wasn’t wearing them.
Once inside the foyer, she locked
the front. Questions flitted rampantly through her mind. Who had wanted Mary dead? Did it have something to do with the evidence against Chapman? Had Sal wanted to get rid of her?
The sound of arguing drifted along one of the hallways and beckoned her towards the parlor. Maybe after a snack and a game of Bridge, she could clear her thoughts and tackle these questions.
Chapter 12
AFTER PLAYING CARDS for over an hour and losing horribly, Ella abandoned her Bridge partner Rose to figure out what to do with Wink and Flo. It turned out the innkeeper wanted to get an early start on dinner, so she enlisted the senior citizen brigade’s help.
It was nice getting the rest of the day off from working in the diner, even if it wasn’t for the best of reasons.
Ella tagged along at the back of the dinner prep group through the hallway. Chester rode atop Wink’s shoulder like a parrot, chittering and flapping his tail at Ella. When they reached the expansive entrance hall, the innkeeper noticed Ella was with them.
“We don’t need help in the kitchen, dear. Maybe you can lend Jimmy a hand? He’s working on the bathroom sink.”
Relieved, Ella didn’t even pretend to be offended at the thinly veiled request that she not be anywhere near a hot stove. Besides, she felt more adept with tools than a spatula or mixer.
It took her a few minutes to locate which bathroom Jimmy was in as there were five throughout the manor. In the one on the bottom floor next to his and Rose’s room, he lay sprawled on the floor, looking up at the underside of a sink attached to the wall.
Ella spared a glance at him, her eyes gawking at the interior of the lavatory. A pastel pink sink clashed beside a jade-colored toilet in a color scheme that could only have been picked out by a blind person. The same nauseating color combination repeated throughout the tile on the floor and around the tub.
She’d only stepped foot in the small room once during a tour of the inn. Since it was nearest the innkeeper’s bedroom, it was an unspoken rule, of sorts, that it was theirs.
“Nice, huh?” Jimmy said when he noticed her gaping. “We had it renovated just before the first jump.”
Nice was the last word she would’ve used to describe the disaster before her, and she found she could only manage a garbled, “Uh-huh… nice.”
