by Ami Diane
Could the C64 belong to Pauline? The abundance of games and lack of anything scientific on the floppy drives suggested it wasn’t. Also, the voice of the writer of the story leaned towards a younger person.
“Hmm, hard to say. Around that time, the town jumped to several places in rapid succession, and we had an influx of people. Let’s see, who was new around then?”
Wink’s face pinched in concentration. “There was the Larrabees, the Grahams—I think they came from the next jump to Canada, though—the McCarthy’s, the Kirklands.”
“The Kirklands? As in Mary and Brandon?”
“Yeah. They were new to the town around that time, mind you. I don’t recall specifically when they showed up, although, now that I think about it, I think they showed up with the Grahams.”
“And the Grahams are from what time?”
“Sometime in the 1830s, I believe.”
Wink rattled off more names of townsfolk who arrived during that time. “There was Bobby McFarland. He left behind a wife. Can’t recall where.”
The bell over the door jingled. Sheriff Chapman ducked under the frame and filled the entryway with his commanding presence.
“Morning, Sheriff,” Wink greeted the man. “Can I make you a Heart Attack on a Rack?”
Ella pleaded with him. “Please say yes. For the love of God, give her something to do.”
He pulled off his derby hat and hung it on the coat tree, saying, “I’d appreciate it, Wink, thank you.”
The diner owner swept into the kitchen and soon the sounds of a sizzling griddle and the banging of pans drifted through the passthrough.
“Can I interest you in some Jurassic Sludge?”
Ella waved her hands in front of the soda fountain as if he’d won a new car. He folded his long legs under the lunch counter as he sat.
“No, thank you. But I’ll take a cup of mud.”
She poured him coffee and slid it across the counter, not bothering to ask if he wanted cream or sugar. The man liked it straight, the stronger the better, a true cowboy, through and through.
“Have you had many customers?”
“Depends. Do you consider one as many?” She poured a cup for herself. “You’re the first.”
“Probably best that way until it’s safer for folks to go outside again.”
She still wasn’t completely convinced that inside was much safer, not after seeing that T. rex up close.
Sugar poured from the container until she was sure there was enough in her coffee to attract a hummingbird. “Can I ask you something? Why’s Sal got it in for you?”
Chapman took his time sipping from his cup, dipping his mustache into the dark liquid. “There’s history in this town before you arrived.”
“Well, I didn’t think there wasn’t. I mean, the town existed before I got here, although, I’m sure you’ll agree that it wasn’t nearly as exciting. You should probably start adding the notation BEE to the year to mark ‘Before Ella Era’.”
When he failed to find this humorous, she said, “So… you were going to tell me about your history with Sal?”
“No. I wasn’t. That’s between me and him. We had a disagreement is all, but most folks have blown it out of proportion. I was a bit surprised at his attack as I’d thought we’d buried the hatchet.”
Surprised? So, the Wyatt Earp facsimile was capable of emotion, after all. Just not capable of showing it.
“What do you think he has on you?”
“Don’t know. I’ve done right by the law in my eyes, but it seems some folks don’t like how I go about it.”
“Well, things have changed in the nearly hundred years from your era to the town’s era. Just saying.”
Wink came in carrying a steaming plate of biscuits and gravy with a generous side of crisp bacon and hash browns.
“Speaking of Sal,” Ella continued, eyeing his plate and wondering if he’d shoot her if she nabbed a bacon strip, “did you ask him if he met up with Mary just before the debate?”
Wink leaned against the counter, attentive, and Chapman looked from her to Ella as if considering how much he should say.
“If I don’t answer that, are you just gonna hunt the man down and ask him yourself?”
Wink responded, “No,” at the same time Ella said, “Of course.”
Ella caught Wink’s eye. “I mean, no. Of course not.”
He made a clearing noise in his nose. “Mr. Moretti admitted to meeting with Mrs. Kirkland, but he wouldn’t tell me why the met just before the debate.”
“Because she was telling him about how to take you down,” Ella said.
“Possibly. He called it ‘campaign business’. Wouldn’t say more.”
“Where’d they meet?”
“Not too far from the bushes where Ms. Chilton found her. He didn’t know nothing about meat in her purse and said that he didn’t see any dinosaurs when he left.”
Wink’s hands went nervously to her hair then to her apron. “Speaking of dinosaurs, has Pauline had a chance yet to compare the claw and bite marks on Mary with that sample from Peanut I gave you?”
Slowly, Chapman rested his fork on his plate and wiped his mouth. “I was there when she did a comparison. Came to the same conclusion you lot did.
“The claw marks don’t match. Neither do the teeth. Pauline said something about the incisors not matching and the bite radius being off. By her estimation, something much bigger than your pet attacked her.”
Wink bounced on her feet, squealing with each bounce like a teenybopper at a concert, but stilled when Chapman fixed her with a stare.
“But,” he added emphatically, “I’m keeping it—”
“Him,” Wink corrected.
“I’m keeping him,” Chapman said, visibly struggling to anthropomorphize the allosaurus, “locked up for the meantime. With the way you’ve been feeding him, I’m afraid he’ll stick around town if I let him loose.”
Wink’s face fell. “What if the town jumps? He’ll be stranded here.”
The prospect made Ella wince as she envisioned all sorts of Jurassic Park scenarios once the dino reached full size, which, if she remembered correctly, was a little smaller than a Tyrannosaurus rex. Also disconcerting was the fact that an allosaurus was just as much an apex predator as a T. rex.
She told Chapman as much, in case he wasn’t aware of the danger the town would still be in. He picked at his omelet with his fork again, his gaze far off as he deliberated.
“We’ll have to take that chance until I can arrange a means of placing him in the jungle far, far away.”
The gravity of his words sunk in. That would require a volunteer to risk crossing the border. Knowing the sheriff, he’d be the one.
An idea formed in her head. There may be a way to rig a vehicle to drive over the border without a driver, using a brick on the gas pedal and a rope tied to the steering wheel.
A chill crept up her spine, remembering that Mayor Bradford had done something similar when he’d tried to leave her in the trunk of a car in the desert.
Chapman stood and stretched out like an accordion, his silver hair brushing the low, railcar ceiling.
“Thanks for the tightener, Wink.”
Ella whispered to Wink, “That means meal.”
“Thanks, I got that.” Wink waved Chapman off when he approached the register. “On the house. I was just happy the hot griddle didn’t go to waste.”
“Hey.” Ella pushed out her bottom lip. “I asked for the same thing, and you said you didn’t want to heat it up.”
“You’d already eaten three donuts. I didn’t want any food to go to waste.”
Mention of the donuts caused Ella to drift towards the donut display, gearing up for confection number four when Wink blocked her progress.
“Uh-uh. I’m cutting you off.”
It was probably for the best, seeing as how she couldn’t do her usual jog around the lake without becoming a meal herself.
Chapman stood at the door, fix
ing his hat on his thick hair. “Well, I’m off. I’ve gotta go to the General Store and talk to Brandon. I wanna rule out the possibility that his mother doesn’t normally pack raw meat in her purse. I’ve found stranger things on a lady.”
Ella snickered. “By ‘lady’ do you mean Flo?”
He didn’t answer.
The absurdity of his task appeared to weigh him down.
Wink tilted her hot pink head. “The store’s open today? With so few people out and about and with Mary’s death, I’m surprised.”
He nodded. “Brandon said he’d open it for a couple of hours. Said he got several phone calls from George after news about his mother spread.”
“Who’s George?” Ella asked.
Wink tutted. “Remember? He was that rancher at the debate who asked for help protecting his livestock.”
“Right, right.” Ella clicked her tongue as the memory of the man shook loose. “The dirty-jeans guy who looked like a ‘before’ picture in a laundry detergent advertisement. He complained that Mary wouldn’t sell electric fencing to him.”
“Sounds like Brandon will.”
The gears in Ella’s head turned, albeit slow because the sun hadn’t climbed high enough in the sky yet. Her neurons fired best in the afternoon.
She found herself saying to Chapman, “Hey, you got enough to worry about. I’ll go talk to Brandon.”
His stone-cut eyes narrowed a fraction.
“We have a rapport,” she explained. “I mean, we’ve only spoken a couple of times, but it was really deep stuff.” She added a smile, having found that he was a sucker for it.
“That doesn’t work on me.”
Her grin deflated.
“But alright.”
His finger came up in warning, wagging—not in her face—but near enough she went a bit cross-eyed when she looked at it.
“Only ask about the purse. Nothing else. I don’t wanna get another complaint. And don’t hang out outside any longer than you have to.”
“Aw, it’s sweet you care, but I’m packing.” She pulled the sonic slingshot from her apron pocket.
He stared at it.
“It’s more lethal than it looks. It could take down…” she hefted the object, “at least three Goliaths. And don’t ask me how I know this, but it can also take down a large tree and part of a house.”
He seemed to reconsider. “I think it might be best if I go. I don’t want you going alone, and I can’t have Wink and Flo join you.” His eyes slid over to the diner owner. “You three get into the most trouble when you’re together.”
Wink appeared indifferent to Chapman’s accusation. “Take Will.”
“Actually,” Ella said, “I have someone else in mind.”
Chapter 14
ELLA CHANGED FROM her waitress uniform into the coolest clothes she could find to combat the muggy weather: a tank top and shorts.
Before heading downstairs, she opened the note she’d made on her phone. She attempted to add the rancher’s name from the meeting but for the life of her, couldn’t recall his name.
Frank maybe?
In the end, she decided Dirty-jeans Guy was good enough. At the bottom of the short list, she typed out the question, Where’s the book?
The only reasonable explanation was that Sal had it. She needed to see what was in it, not only to know how it incriminated Chapman but to also see if it had been worth killing Mary over. Although, that angle still had a fuzzy motive, if fuzzy meant none whatsoever.
She wandered the manor, calling out “Marco” in search of Jimmy. On the ground floor, the basement door was partially closed, an eery green light filtering out around the edges. Small, muffled explosions came from the bowels of the inn, and she thought it best to avoid the general area for the time being.
Jimmy stood in the kitchen, eating a ham and cheese sandwich over the sink. He gestured at the deconstructed parts on the counter, the homemade bread, cold cuts, and cheese. So, Ella helped herself to a sandwich.
She joined him at the sink with her early lunch. They ate in silence, pretending the inn’s ongoing rumblings of indigestion coming up through the floorboards was normal.
Between bites, she said, “Chapman asked me to go to the General Store, ask Brandon some questions about his mother.”
“He asked you to?”
Her mouth was currently full of sandwich, so she tilted her hand back and forth in a sort of motion. When she could talk, she invited him to come along, adding, “I could use a buffer to keep from saying anything stupid. Not that that’s a problem I have.”
“I seem to recall you asking when Mrs. Miller was due.”
Ella raised her eyebrows. “And? I was making polite conversation.”
“She wasn’t expecting.”
“She wasn’t? Well, that explains why she glared at me. See? I need you. We’ll be like Batman and Robin. Except, I’d be more like Wonder Woman.”
Her voice dropped as she said to herself, “Did Wonder Woman have a sidekick?”
He swiped his hands together over the sink, raining crumbs onto a pile of dirty dishes. “Sure, I’ll accompany you, if it gets you to stop rambling.”
Even the brick exterior of the General Store appeared to be sweating. As they entered the stifling building, she tucked her slingshot away, secretly disappointed that she hadn’t had an excuse to use it.
Oh, no. Was she becoming Flo? Was this how it started?
The store, not surprisingly, was empty save for a lone customer in a loincloth browsing a collection of fur pelts. Henry popped out from an aisle at the sound of the bell over the door.
“Ella, you’re back. Is there something wrong with the television?”
She sighed inwardly, giving up on the young man ever remembering that the computer wasn’t a television set.
“No, it’s working great. But I had a question that maybe you can answer. Who donated or traded in the computer?”
He picked at his chin, raising his shoulders in a lazy shrug. “Been here ever since I started work.”
Her eyes shifted around the dim store, taking in the motes of dust riding on shafts of light from the windows in the nearly empty building.
“Is Brandon here?”
“He’s with that Fulk guy.”
Ella explained to Jimmy, “Brandon got an electrical apprenticeship.”
“That’s swell. Bully for him.” The innkeeper tilted his head. “I’m a bit surprised he went back to work so soon after his mother passed.”
“They weren’t that close.” Henry’s face flushed, the color clashing with his freckles and pimples as he ducked his head. “They didn’t get along so well.”
Ella exchanged a glance with Jimmy. “Do you know where we can find him? We need to talk to him on behalf of the sheriff.”
“Could try Doug’s shop, see if they’re in, but I doubt it. One of them big dinosaurs got into the wind turbine’s battery bank and made a mess of things.”
That would mean Will would be with them too, most likely. “I hope they’re armed with weapons.”
“How long you been working here, Henry?” Jimmy asked.
“Going on two years now, sir.”
“Two years.” Jimmy let out a soft whistle. Ella tried to do the same, mimicking him, but ended up spitting. “That’s a good start for a young man. Means you have a good work ethic.”
“I try.” Despite the cavalier words, Henry’s back straightened.
“You probably got to know Mrs. Kirkland, too, I bet, didn’t you?”
Henry faltered, his eyes casting about. “I suppose.”
“That’s right,” Ella said, catching on. “You probably got to know her habits pretty well. For example, when she came in, when she left, if she ate lunch in the back… where she put her purse.” She inclined her head towards the door and the line of hooks bolted to the wall.
“Y-yes.” Henry shifted, his voice squeaking.
“How ‘bout it, son?” Jimmy tapped a finger on the counter. “
Where’d Mary usually keep her purse?”
“Over there.” Henry nodded towards the hooks.
“Strange question,” Ella said, “but, to your knowledge, did she tend to keep meat in her purse, by any chance?”
“Meat?” Henry’s hand, which had been nervously picking at his face, dropped to his side, his eyebrows pinched together. “Meat? In her purse?”
“Yeah.”
“No, not that I knew. Why would she have meat in her purse?”
That was a great question, Ella thought. Aloud, she shifted the topic.
“One more thing. Sunday, when I came in, I couldn’t help but overhear Mary accusing you of skimming money from the till.”
Jimmy shot Ella a warning look that probably meant her line of questioning was brusque.
“I didn’t steal any! I swear!” His skin turned a different, darker shade of red, and he mumbled, “It was the other way around.”
“Pardon?” Jimmy leaned in. “Do you mean to imply you caught Mary taking money from the till?”
The loincloth man emerged from an aisle, carrying a sword. Ella had forgotten he was still in the building. She and Jimmy stood back so Henry could tend to the man as he paid for the blade using seeds as currency.
After he left, the duo approached the counter again where Henry had suddenly busied himself, cleaning the glass and generally pretending they weren’t there.
“Was it a problem if she took money from the register?” Ella asked, picking up the thread of conversation. “I mean, it is—was her store, after all. I know it’d mess up her books and all…” she trailed off. “Anyway, did she know you saw her? Is that why she was trying to pin it on you?”
The rag in Henry’s hand squealed across the glass as he wiped with vigor. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.
“She knew I saw her.”
Henry wasn’t small by any means, taller than Ella, but his stooped posture and limp head at that moment made him appear small.
“Henry,” Jimmy said, gently, “what did she do when she knew you’d seen her taking money?”
