by Ami Diane
After brushing crumbs from her fingers, she pointed at the timeline at the top of the mirror.
“I don’t know where Mary was earlier on Sunday, but I do know she came out of the library about a half-hour before the debate. She then went straight to the General Store where she left after a few minutes to rendezvous with Sal. She was then found nearly two hours later, mauled to death.”
Wink studied the mirror. “Well, we can tell you where she was around 4:00, before the library. She was in the butcher’s shop. Flo and I came straight from there to the basement to feed Peanut. He’s got an acquired taste, it seems. Prefers his food fresh.”
“And alive,” Flo muttered.
“I heard that.”
Ella tuned them out, turning to study the mirror. “She probably went straight from the butcher’s to the library. Now we need to figure out who had a motive for killing her and cross-reference our suspects with who had access to her purse.”
Flo scooted forward on the bed, incidentally closer to the cookie tray. “The meat had to have been put in recently.”
Ella held up her hand expectantly, and Flo lobbed a cookie through the air at her. After catching—surprising everyone including herself—Ella took a large bite.
“Because,” she said, picking up Flo’s line of reasoning, “it wouldn’t be long before most women noticed meat in their purse. Unless they’re me. I once had a Snickers bar in my bag for five months before I found it. The chocolate had melted and coated the entire bottom like the inside of an M&M.”
The memory of turning the purse inside out to hand wash it brought back the smell of chocolate, and her mouth began to water. “Tell me again why the greenhouses can’t grow cacao trees?”
Flo’s eyes dropped to her nails, a sign that her attention was waning once again.
“Never mind. It’s not important.”
“How about,” Wink said, “we start with who had access to the purse then proceed to motive.”
“Sure.” Ella tried to hold in her disappointment. “Or we can start with the list of suspects I already have written down.”
She tapped a marker on the short list then stopped to consider Wink’s proposal. A moment later, the marker squealed across the mirror as she wrote out a second list of those who had access to the victim’s purse.
Wink ticked off her fingers, listing off people while Flo tried to throw her off, calling out made-up names like, “Farfflehopper” and “Pershup.”
“Also, George.” Wink then insisted that both she and Flo be added to the list of those who had access to Mary’s purse even if they weren’t suspects.
Standing back, Ella scanned the list, thinking. She was jarred from her thoughts by Flo’s reflection. The boarder broke off chunks of the doughy cookie and tossed them in the air, attempting to catch them in her mouth.
“You sure you should be doing that with dentures?”
“I don’t wear dentures, Poodle Head.”
“Aw, that’s cute. You’re so old, you forgot you wear false teeth.”
Flo threw a chunk of cookie at her which resulted in Wink intervening. “Ladies, please. Let’s not waste food.”
“Yeah, Flo.” Ella retrieved the piece of perfectly good sugar cookie from the floor and popped it into her mouth before the others could protest. “Back to the list.”
She wrote both Henry’s and Brandon’s names below the others, but her hand went back to Henry, wondering if she should erase his name.
“He was behind the counter nearly the entire time I was in the store, and when he did disappear briefly, it was to the back. Mary had her purse hanging up at the front door.”
Flo paused long enough from tossing cookie bits to say, “Is it possible someone popped through the door and slipped the meat into her purse without you seeing?”
Ella shook her head. “Unlikely. I would’ve seen them from where I stood.”
In the end, she decided to leave Henry’s name up for the time being, along with the victim’s son’s. She borrowed from her suspect list and wrote the original name she had for the angry rancher: Dirty-jeans Guy.
“He was also in the library,” she explained. “He came out just after Mary, meaning he had access to her purse.”
“Don’t forget Sal.” Wink’s eyes darkened slightly at mentioning the fellow candidate’s name. “He could’ve slipped it in at their meetup.”
After adding the barber’s name, Ella stood back and scrutinized the five names: Wink, Flo, Patience, Henry, Brandon, Dirty-jeans Guy, and Sal.
“Are we forgetting anyone?”
When she looked over her shoulder at the other two, Wink was shaking her pink head. “Not that I can think of.”
“Then let’s move on to possible motives.” She skipped both Wink’s and Flo’s names, and the marker tapped on the next name. “Patience?”
Nobody immediately spoke.
Finally, Flo pointed at Ella’s original suspect list. “Well, why’d you have her there?”
“Hmm? Oh, no reason, really. I add her to every suspect list. I used to do the same with Six.”
She stared at the board. Uncapping the marker again, she added the outlaw’s name for old times’ sake. “She was at the butcher’s shop, and she was also the one to find the body. But she doesn’t have a clear motive that we can think of.”
Moving along, she pointed at Sal’s name. “I can’t think of any reason he’d kill his campaign manager, but he was the last one to see her alive. Also, being at the debate while asking of her whereabouts makes for a decent alibi.”
Beside his name, she scrawled, motive?
“What’s Henry’s motive?” Wink asked.
Flo looked up. “Henry Banes?”
“Down, cougar.” Ella shot her a disapproving look. “He’s barely legal. In fact, I’m not sure he is.”
“That’s not why I was asking. You’re not seriously thinkin’ that boy’s capable of murder, are you? He’s afraid of his own shadow. Now, his father on the other hand….” Her words petered out, and she stared wistfully into the distance, a creepy Joker-smile cracking her face. “Yeah, I was sweet on his father. One time—”
“Nope. Absolutely not. It took me two weeks before I could drink milk again after your last dating story. There isn’t enough booze or therapy in the world to make me want to hear about you and Henry’s father.”
Flo snorted. “Relax. I was only going to talk about the time he pushed me into the lake.”
“Oh, well… that’s not so bad.”
“Naked.”
“Sweet merciful Lord.”
Ella’s hands clamped her over her ears, and she looked helplessly at Wink. It took several minutes for the diner owner to persuade Flo to stop regaling them with her horror story.
When Wink motioned that it was safe, Ella pried her fingers away slowly, bracing for any Romance Tales from the Crypt Part Two.
She returned her attention to the murder board, picking up where she’d left off. “Right. Henry’s motive could be because he caught Mary skimming money from her own till. She tried to pin it on him then threatened him.”
Wink’s mouth parted in shock. “She threatened him? He’s just a kid.”
Flo called Mary several unsavory names and followed them up with a growl. “We should’ve fed her to the dinos when we first jumped.”
“Yeah, I get the impression no one’s sorry to see her go.”
Wink, who had the energy of a toddler, bounced to her feet and approached the murder board. “Who do we pick first?”
“Pick?” Ella glanced over at Flo, who either shared Ella’s confusion or was passing gas. The answer came a moment later, and Ella was forced to open a window, letting in droplets of rain.
“Yes,” Wink clarified, “who to pick first to investigate.”
Whenever Wink or Flo used the word “investigate,” it put Ella on full alert. Still, they needed to poke around to get answers.
“Can we at least keep it above board this time?”
Wink answered with, “Who do you think we are?” at the same time Flo said, “Where’s the fun in that?”
Shaking her head, Ella’s gaze settled on Sal’s name. “The book.”
In the mirror’s reflection, the two older women exchanged a glance.
Wink spoke first. “You’ll have to be more specific. The Good Book?”
“Thank heavens. Poodle Head is finally finding the light.”
“No, you old farts.” Ella proceeded to tell them about the green book Mary had clutched to her chest as if it was the Holy Grail as she’d exited the library. She then informed them it hadn’t been at the crime scene. “When I overheard her on the phone talking to Sal, she implied that she’d found a smoking gun that would get Sal elected for sure. I got the impression it was in that book.”
She told them about running into Gabby and that all the librarian could remember was that the book Mary had checked out was based on America’s frontier days.
“So, find the book, find Sal’s motive,” Wink said in summation. “Possibly.”
“Or at the very least, we might find out what it is Sal knows about Chapman.” Not that withholding information about the time device wasn’t damning enough.
Flo burst out, “Meat!”
“Bless you.” Ella motioned a cross in Flo’s face to double-up on the ward.
“No, we should find out what meat was in Mary’s purse. If it’s not a popular one, the butcher’ll know who ordered it.”
Ella shot the woman a finger gun. “Look at that. You finally had a good idea. I mean, it’s one I already thought of and asked Chapman about, but go you. See what happens when you’re engaged—and she’s no longer listening.”
Sure enough, the woman had begun stacking the remaining sugar cookies, building them into a fort.
“What’d Chapman say when you asked what kind of meat it was?” Wink asked.
“He wouldn’t tell me. I think my charm is finally wearing off on him.”
Flo snorted. “Finally?”
“I’m not sure you had any, to begin with,” Wink added.
“Shh, let me have this. Anyway, chances are good it’s a run of the mill cut of beef, but it’s worth finding out. The question is, how do we find out?”
“We can drug Pauline with a truth serum and ask her,” Flo suggested.
“Okay, no more suggestions from you. And haven’t we drugged her enough? I feel like that’s our go-to.”
Wink’s expression morphed into horror. “We’ve never drugged her.”
“Really?” Ella turned to Flo. “Really? You never slipped her anything? Not even a little bit of Benadryl?”
“Don’t think so.”
“How can you not be sure? I feel like that’s something you’d remember.”
“You’re misremembering us drugging her.”
“Touché.” She paused. “So, since we’ve never drugged her, maybe we can—”
“We’re not drugging her,” Wink interrupted.
An awkward silence followed. The sounds of Fluffy taking a bath were just beginning to lose their adorableness when Wink spoke up.
“Pauline probably included the type of meat in her autopsy report.”
“Which would be in Chapman’s office—wipe that grin off your face.” While Ella had been talking, Wink’s mouth was spreading into a Cheshire smile on par with Flo’s creepy Joker one.
Ella headed off the idea before Wink had a chance to voice it. “No. Huh-uh. We’re not breaking Peanut out.”
“But he’s innocent. What if we jump, and he gets stranded? We can kill two birds with one stone.”
“No jailbreaks.”
Flo perked up. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing,” Ella answered. “Go back to your nap.”
“Are we breaking that dragon out?” Her eyes lit up. “Oh, I get to use my acetylene torch.”
“Or we could just use the key he keeps in his desk.”
Wink climbed to her feet, her eyes glimmering with excitement. “I need to go get some meat from the diner. We’re going to need something to lure him out with.”
She brushed past Ella.
“Wait, are we doing this?” Ella turned, but Wink’s shadow had already disappeared on the hallway wall, her footsteps rapidly fading away.
Sighing, she spun to her remaining friend and figured she’d get some sort of fun out of the meeting. “Looks like it’s Keystone Gators to the—”
“No.”
Chapter 17
THE STORM BROKE sometime after dinner but left brooding clouds, ushering in an early evening. Wink returned from her house after retrieving her break-in accouterments that mostly consisted of black clothes.
It was still before nightfall when she arrived back at the inn because they didn’t want to risk being out too late on account of the predators lurking about town.
When she arrived, she apologized, blaming her late arrival on a something-saurus trampling through her yard. Upon hearing this, Rose, ever the host, insisted that Wink stay at the inn the remainder of the time Keystone remained in the Jurassic epoch.
Everyone was still gathered in the kitchen, demolishing a rhubarb pie for dessert, when the trio excused themselves.
“I need their help fixing the fryer in the diner,” Wink explained.
Jimmy’s chair scraped across the floor as he stood. “What’s wrong with it? I’ll lend a hand.”
“No!” Ella and Wink said at the same time.
Wink smoothed out her dark velour tracksuit. How the woman wasn’t melting in this weather was a mystery.
“Did I say fryer? I meant wall. I’m still trying to patch up that hole Flo made.”
Flo was still seated, licking the remnants of pie from her plate. She jabbed her fork in their direction. “At least I didn’t burn your floor.”
“Hey,” Ella said, “that was Patience. Not me.”
Wink guided Ella by the elbow towards the back door, pausing to tap Flo upside the back of her head. “Well, we best get a move on. Don’t want to be out after dark.”
At the table, Rose’s eyes narrowed. “What are you ladies up to?”
“I’m sure we don’t want to know,” Jimmy said.
“Just be safe.” Rose’s hand went to her pearls in that nervous tick she had. “Make sure you take something to protect yourself with.”
“That’s why we’re taking Flo.” Ella jerked her head at the older woman. “She’s the dino chow so we can get away.”
Finally, Flo pushed her plate away and stood. When she hefted her purse from the kitchen island, she grunted and nearly toppled over.
She patted the accessory and said in an ominous voice, “Don’t worry. We’ll be protected.”
Ella let her pass and slipped out the door last, hesitating in the threshold. Both Rose and Jimmy were still watching, concerned lines etched in their foreheads. “What do you think the chances are that she accidentally kills me before a dinosaur does?”
Jimmy coughed while Rose dabbed at her mouth with her napkin.
“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of.”
Ella quickly caught up to the other two just as they reached the back door to Grandma’s Kitchen.
“Wait, are we actually going inside?”
Wink’s pin curls quivered when she shook her head. “Can they still see us?”
They lingered outside the back of the diner. A swarm of mosquitos and other bugs Ella couldn’t identify swarmed about them as thick as fog.
The picture window in the kitchen of the inn overlooked the lake and not the back of the diner, which sat adjacent to the inn. Ella pointed this out.
They stole down the alley on the south side of the diner, putting the building between them and the inn in case Jimmy or Rose left the kitchen. Ella pulled the sonic slingshot from her back. With every other step, Flo’s purse made a metallic scraping noise, and the straps sank into her shoulders.
When they reached Main Street and turned right, Flo had them stop.
She dropped her purse with a thunk that probably cracked the sidewalk.
“Cover me. I gotta assemble this thing. Couldn’t do it inside.”
That now-familiar clenching ran through Ella’s insides, and she exchanged a concerned glance with Wink.
All around them, the insects hummed a symphony. Something that at first glance looked like a large cat with wings but was probably the world’s biggest moth fluttered beneath the nearest street lamp.
Ella shifted from foot to foot, her grip on her weapon tightening. “Can we get a move on? I’m getting the creeps.”
A fog was rolling in from the lake. Add the humidity on top of that, and Ella felt like they were swimming in soup.
“Done.” Flo strained as she brought a metal cylinder to her shoulder.
Ella stared for several seconds, unable to form proper words.
“What is that?” Wink gave the weapon a wide berth and moved to the front while maintaining a respectful distance to the side.
Ella found her voice. “Is that—Is that a rocket launcher?”
It had the shape of one, but it was more on the size of a potato gun.
“Unfortunately it’s not.” Flo swung the weapon around, causing Ella to duck. “I ran out of rockets a while back, so my rocket launcher’s no more than a paperweight at the moment. This baby, here, shoots plasma balls.”
The words turned over in Ella’s mind. “Like a lightning ball?”
She took a step back. After a moment, she followed it up with another.
Wink squinted at the horizon then inclined her head up the sidewalk. “Can we get a move on? It’ll be dark soon.” Her lack of concern over the plasma cannon was alarming.
“Won’t matter with this baby.” Flo’s hands caressed the steel tube nestled on her shoulder.
As Ella crept up the sidewalk, leading the charge, she said, “There’s something seriously wrong with you.”
It struck her just how conspicuous and suspicious they appeared. During any other week, the entourage gliding up the sidewalk, armed to the teeth, would attract attention, even by Keystone Village standards.
However, the street was deserted and all the shops were closed. Even if the trio were spotted by those living in the apartments above their storefronts, they would appear like any other ragtag group stupid enough to be out at twilight in a town overrun by dinosaurs.
