by Ami Diane
While she flipped through the yellowed pages, inhaling dust, Gabby regaled her about the latest book she was reading. Ella tuned in and out, nodding and commenting at appropriate times, while she skimmed through page after page. Finally, she year she’d been searching for, and she pumped a triumphant fist in the air.
“That was my reaction, too!” Gabby placed her hand over her heart, batting her copper lashes. “It was so romantic.”
Ella was lost but said, “That does sound romantic.”
Her finger hovered over a date seven years prior and began dragging down the page. It stopped when it reached the names of Pauline and the Bradfords. Name after name ran down the list. Wink had been right. Many had been stranded in the town seven years ago, some from the early 1990s, but most from rapid, subsequent jumps.
She wasn’t sure she knew what she was looking for. Any of these people could’ve brought a computer with them.
Her eyes caught on another familiar set of names. Mary and Brandon Kirkland. Wink had been right about when they’d arrived, but wrong about which jump they’d come from.
“Ella? You alight?”
“Brandon,” she whispered. The computer had been his.
“Pardon?”
Mary had been cruel to Brandon, so much so that George had tried to intervene. Mary was the goblin queen, and she’d paid the ultimate price for how she’d treated the knight.
Ella squeezed her eyes closed, imagining that afternoon in the store before Mary had been killed. Brandon had been there. He’d disappeared for a few moments. He could’ve slipped the meat into his mother’s purse when Ella had turned away to give Mary privacy with her phone call.
“Oh, no.” Ella shoved the leather-bound book into Gabby’s arms. “He’s arresting the wrong person.”
As she tore down the aisles, Gabby called after her, “Who’s arresting the wrong person?”
Ella rang the bell on the small red Schwinn at Sandy who’d just stepped out of the hospital.
“Look out!”
The nurse leaped aside in time, while Ella applied her shoes as brakes.
With her jeep still at Will’s, she’d had no choice but to commandeer Sally’s bicycle again. It had been in the front yard of the inn where she’d left it, still smudged with dinosaur poop.
Judging by the look she got from the admission clerk, she must be a sight—and smell—now having added the dinosaur dung to her dingy clothes.
Ella charged past the front desk, ignoring the woman’s protests. Due to the building’s size, she felt confident she’d locate Chapman in no time.
Her feet slid across the slick floor as she turned down the hallway. She glanced through dark doorways on either side before calling out the sheriff’s name.
“Chapman!”
“Ella?”
Ahead, a figure stepped into a lit doorway, but it wasn’t the sheriff. Her throat tightened.
“Brandon.”
She considered running, but the brokenness in his eyes gave her pause. His arm was in a sling, his eyes puffy like he’d been crying. Had she been wrong?
“Have you seen Chapman?”
He shuffled forward. “He was here. Talked to George, then he left.”
“He left?” Her mouth stayed open. “Where’s George?”
“Sleeping, I think.” He tipped his head towards one of the darkened doorways she’d passed. “Pauline says he’ll make it.” His eyes glimmered. “He saved us.”
“Who? George? Well, sure… I guess. It was a group effort, really. Did you see the part where I barbecued the dinosaur?”
“I owe him so much.” He stared wistfully past her.
Oh, no. She’d been right the first time.
“Because of the goblin queen?”
“What did you say?”
She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. Look, I know your mother was a monster to you, and I’m so sorry.”
“How do you know about that?” His eyes narrowed, then his tongue clicked in his mouth. “Right. You bought the computer. That means you found my journal. It’s a good machine, the C64. I miss it, sometimes. I considered keeping it, but it’s got bad memories.”
His eyes flickered with bitterness. “At least she finally got what she deserved.”
Crap, had he killed her?
She took a step back, the movement whispering in the quiet. It didn’t go unnoticed by the young man.
“Is that why you slipped meat into your mother’s purse?” she asked, taking a stab.
He could’ve taken the lamb from the rancher. Then she remembered the butcher had told Wink that some kid had put in an order for lamb. Some kid.
He didn’t flinch at the accusation. “I didn’t put it into her purse.”
“You didn’t?”
She stopped her stealthy retreat.
A voice edged with pain slurred behind her, “I did.”
Ella spun.
George sagged against the doorframe, gripping his IV pole like a cane. His hospital gown draped over one shoulder.
She kept her voice light to avoid alerting him that she was about to make a break for it. “Pauline patched you up quick, I see.”
“Gave me some good drugs, too.” His speech came out garbled.
“I see that.”
He slouched ten feet to her left, and Brandon stood the same distance to her right. She caught between two killers. It was two against one. Well, one and a half against one as George was partially indisposed.
The rancher teetered and tightened his grip on the IV pole, his eyes swimming. She amended the thought to one and a quarter against one.
“I had to, you see. She was hurting him.”
Ella looked over at Brandon who nodded. “She wasn’t happy with me leaving the store. I just wanted to get away from her.”
“I can’t imagine—well, I can, a little. Thanks to reading your journal. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” She meant it.
“Mom was never the same after we got trapped here. It broke her. She couldn’t deal with losing all her family and friends, the limited resources and never being able to leave.” Brandon took a step, narrowing the gap between them.
Ella mirrored the movement and stepped closer to George. Although the rancher was the size of a professional wrestler, the chemicals coursing through his veins put him at a disadvantage. She might be able to run past him before he could grab her.
“Why didn’t you just go to Chapman?”
“It was my word against hers.”
“The man has always been fair. He would’ve listened.”
Brandon shrugged. “What’s done is done. I’m free of her now.”
She shifted her weight, getting ready to run. “Who’s idea was it?”
“Mine,” both men said at the same time.
“You’ve helped enough, George.” Brandon shot an appreciative look over Ella’s shoulder at the man. “I won’t have you taking all the blame.”
He flicked his eyes back to Ella. “I don’t know why you couldn’t just leave it alone. You messed up everything. It’s not like we were going to hurt anyone else or that she was some saint.”
His stance morphed, muscles flexing, and he took another menacing step. He was going to charge.
Now was her chance.
She sprang off both legs, turning as she did. The movement caught the sluggish George off guard as she’d hoped. Her shoulder hit his ribs with force. They both howled in pain as she fumbled past him.
By the sound of it, she’d found one of his wounds. It felt like she’d jammed into solid stone, her arm throbbing.
Light illuminated the end of the hallway. She hoped the front desk clerk had heard the commotion and would come to investigate.
Something hard hooked her feet and sent her toppling over. Her hands were first to break her fall, followed by one shoulder, then the side of her head.
She let out every swear word that came to mind and even made up a few on the spot as she rolled onto her back, alterna
ting between gripping her wrist and head.
George stood over her. “I’mreally ssssorry aboutdis…”
“What?”
He blinked, seeming to struggle to focus. “I said, ‘I’m really sorry about this.’”
“Wow, I would’ve never guessed that’s what you said. Also, can you take a half-step back? I can see up your gown. I’m trying hard not to look, but you’re making it kind of hard.”
George lifted the IV pole like a bludgeon, swaying. “I like you. You saved our lives.”
“At least someone remembers.”
She crab-walked backward, still on the ground, wondering what her chances were of kicking up and reaching anything important.
Why was no one around? She knew the hospital was dead, but had everyone left?
“Since I saved your lives, here’s an idea: don’t kill me.”
George paused, the IV pole lowering slightly. “I ain’t gonna kill you.”
Her backward scuttle stopped. “You’re not?”
“We’re not?” Brandon asked.
“No. We’re just gonna set you out to sea on a raft. Let fate take care of you.”
“Well, when you put it like that—” Ella pushed off the ground, twisted mid-air, and swung out with her leg. Her foot swept past the rancher, missing him by a good two inches.
She landed on her side, jarring her hip bone. “Sugar cookies, that hurt!”
George swung down with the pole. She caught the metal gleam in the wan light as it rushed towards her. She saw the way his face twisted in concentration, then the way it shifted into confusion. A hand in the shadows came away from his neck, leaving a syringe embedded in his skin.
The metal pole hit the floor with a loud clang that echoed up and down the hall. George landed beside it with an even heavier thud. His eyelids drooped, and drool dripped from his mouth.
Pauline stepped out of a doorway. She wore her jacket of many pockets, each one bulging.
“I was just on my way out. Let’s see…” Her hands dug through one pocket. “No, that’s not it.” She tried another and pulled out what looked like a moldy meatball. “That’s not it, either.”
Behind her, Brandon’s eyes were wide as he stared at the prone George. He began backpedaling.
“Ah, yes. Here it is.” Pauline pulled a small handgun from an inside pocket and leveled it at the young man. “Not another step.”
Chapter 31
ELLA SAT AROUND the kitchen table listening to the static-filled strums of a ukulele. “Call me crazy, but I think he might be improving.”
Ukulele Joe picked a flat note that caused everyone to wince.
“I stand corrected.”
“I wish that fiddle player would just announce the next mayor and put us out of our misery,” Flo grunted.
Rose shushed her then topped off Wink’s coffee, even though it was already near the brim. The diner owner clutched a cloth napkin, wringing it like a dishcloth.
Beside Ella, Will said, “He’s never had such a captive audience before.”
Across from them, Jimmy turned his wrist to check his watch. That morning’s church service was set to start a half-hour late on account of the ballot count results being announced.
Ella sucked air through her teeth as she lifted her coffee cup to her lips. Nearly every muscle felt like it had been put through the wringer within the past couple of days.
Also, despite an extra long bath the night before and another that she planned on that afternoon, it would take days before her hair didn’t emit the scent of excrement each time she brushed it.
The evening before, after helping Pauline detain Brandon, she’d rushed to the front desk and dialed Chapman. He’d arrived quickly, galloping in on Horse, pistol drawn. It had taken a bit to sort everything out, and now Brandon was locked in the jail while George was chained to his hospital bed.
Alright, folks. Time for the moment you’ve all been waiting for: the results of the mayoral race…
“About time,” mumbled Flo.
It was a close one. Yessir, closest one the town’s ever had. It was neck and neck, with a narrow margin of just ten votes.
All around the table, everyone froze. Ella held in a breath.
Our next mayor is… Salvatore Moretti.
Wink deflated. The air hissed out of Ella’s lungs, and she reached across the expanse of wood, squeezing her friend’s hand.
“I’m sorry.”
The others took turns offering condolences.
“What a load of horse manure,” Flo blurted out. “How can they honestly pick that man?”
“Joe said it was close,” Jimmy pointed out.
Wink patted Flo’s forearm. “It’s okay. I’m alright. Honest. I guess my name was in too many bad headlines.”
“Yeah, but none of it was true,” Ella said.
Sure, it hadn’t helped that Wink had been suspected of fellow candidate Charles’s murder and her pet accused of killing Mary, but none of it had turned out to be true, either.
“Doesn’t matter,” Will said, his voice bitter. “People read the lead and don’t bother with the rest. Only headlines.”
“It really is okay,” Wink insisted, but her eyes betrayed her. “I didn’t want the responsibility, anyway. I just didn’t think Sal was the best fit and didn’t see anyone else stepping up.”
“At least neither Lou nor Patience won,” Ella said. This sentiment brought out a chorus of agreements and nods.
Rose stood. “I think this calls for consolation coffee cake.” When she reached the fridge, she said, “Oh, dear.”
“What is it, hon?” Jimmy asked.
The innkeeper swept back to the table, carrying a platter, her skirt swirling around her calves. “Well, I was so sure Wink would win that I made a celebratory gelatin mold.”
Her face turned the same shade as the crimson gelatin wobbling on the platter she laid on the table.
Ella spied either chopped mint leaves or basil amongst… scrambled eggs?
She cleared her throat. “You said there was coffee cake?”
“Cake sounds great,” Will agreed.
Wink perked up. “I think that’s just the thing to help me feel better.”
Jimmy was already moving to the cupboard to pull out plates while Flo took bets on what was floating inside the red gelatinous dish.
“So, what does this mean for Chapman?” Ella asked, getting forks from the drawer.
“Nothing, really,” Will replied. “The man was elected. He’s still got a couple of years left of his second term.”
“I can’t imagine Sal is going to make his job easy.”
The kitchen door swung in. “No, I don’t imagine he will.” Chapman strolled in, boots thudding on the checkered floor.
Ella pointed her fork at the sheriff’s feet. “You really should start wearing spurs again. It’s like a cat bell; it lets me know where you’re at.”
“Have you considered that might be why I take them off?” His eyes twinkled at her before he took the proffered plate of coffee cake then accepted the requisite coffee.
Ella knew from his scant visits to the diner that the man liked his brew so thick a horseshoe could stand up in it. She watched his face eagerly as he sipped the weak coffee, waiting for a crack in his veneer.
“Good coffee, Rose.”
He set the cup down and made a point of looking at Ella. She could swear he winked at her.
“We’ll help you campaign for another term, John, if Sal tries anything,” Jimmy said, using the sheriff’s rarely used first name.
Ella thought it sounded dusty with disuse and didn’t fit the man before her.
“I appreciate that.”
Wink nodded. “Most of the people in this town’ll stand by you.”
“A lot of the damage of your reputation has to do with the time device,” Will said.
Chapman agreed. “I lost a lot of trust keeping that secret.”
“You had reason to,” Ella said, coming to hi
s defense. “You were right. They would’ve mobbed the house and would’ve made it even harder for Will to figure it out.”
“I’m not sure I ever will, to tell you the truth.” Will let out a disgusted sigh.
Ella nudged him. “Sure, you will. Especially if your surveillance trap catches the professor.” She straightened abruptly. “Hey, we never figured out how Sal knew about the device?”
The inventor ducked his head. “That’s my fault. About two weeks back, I was on the phone with the sheriff, talking about it with him. I’m afraid I wasn’t discreet with my words.”
“I don’t understand,” Rose said.
Ella gasped. “Sal’s on the same party line as the sheriff’s office.” Both Will and Chapman nodded.
After a lull, she changed the topic, saying to Chapman, “You know what the problem is? You’re spread too thin. You need a deputy.”
Six sets of eyes turned to her.
“I’m not saying I want to be deputy.”
The sheriff’s face fell in relief.
“Although,” she added, “I’d love to see you get some estrogen in that stuffy office.”
Flo’s hand shot up quicker than a mechanized mole in a whack-a-mole game. “Alright, I can take a hint. No need to beg.”
“Absolutely not,” Chapman drawled at the same time Ella said, “Nope. Definitely not you. You shouldn’t be anywhere near a job that combines weapons and the public.”
She looked pointedly from Chapman to Jimmy. “I actually have the perfect person in mind.”
The innkeeper’s confused expression slowly melted away as he appeared to seriously consider the proposition.
“What do you say?” Chapman asked the man.
“I say, we both have some serious considering to do.”
After that, the conversation around her shifted to the election, leaving her and Will free to discuss the C64 and the latest game he’d played. As Ella got up to deposit her dish in the sink, she caught sight of the back door which brought to mind an unanswered question.
“Hey, we never figured out how Peanut got out the afternoon of the debate. Did Brandon or George say anything about letting him out?”
