Little lady—I kid you not.
Bambi stepped forward before I slugged the guy and patted the red truck looming over us. “You seem to like this one, Cassandra.” She ignored my frown and smiled sweetly. “Do you think Joe would like it?”
“Of course he would!” Larry said, and before I could stop him, he opened the door and hoisted me inside.
I glanced around. That truck would dwarf the Spaceship Destiny. And it definitely dwarfed me. The steering wheel was only slightly smaller than a Ferris wheel, and the gas pedal looked ready to devour my size-five foot for lunch. But no worries there. No way I could ever reach the pedals.
I asked Larry if he didn’t have a nice little scooter I might try, but he ignored me. “Let’s take it for a spin!” he chirped.
“No,” I said firmly and suggested Dr. Smith get behind the wheel, instead. “You might even reach the gas pedal,” I told my tall friend.
But obviously my tall friend thought it would be great entertainment to watch me drive the ridiculous truck. “Two against one,” she said and hopped into the back seat. And yes, of course the Jolly Red Giant had a back seat.
While Larry scurried off to get some peddle-lifts, I yanked the rear view mirror down to where I could actually view something at my rear. “I hate you,” I said.
Bambi looked up from buckling her seat belt. “Joe is going to love this truck.”
Larry came back, got me situated, and buckled himself into the passenger seat.
I started the engine. “Off we go!” I said and hit the gas.
***
First things first. I drove over two curbs.
Larry screamed, Bambi hissed a colorful word, and I drove off—literally off—the Cars! Cars! Cars! lot.
Luckily, I did better once we were on the open road. Never mind what Bambi claims.
But managing the Jolly Red Giant took all my concentration, and I couldn’t ask Larry anything about the La Barges. And Bambi was no help since she was too busy cursing the fates and praying for dear life.
Larry was kind of distracted, too. He clutched the dashboard and kept assuring me the truck was fully insured for test drivers.
After what Bambi still insists were the five most terrifying minutes of her life, we made it back to the car lot, and I parked the thing. Well, maybe not parked, exactly. But I did stop the engine, and Larry took the keys away from me.
He and Bambi seemed in a hurry to escape from their side, but when I opened my door it was a long drop down to the pavement. Larry rounded the truck and hovered below, and I jumped.
“Let’s crunch the numbers!” he said once he had me settled on my own two feet. He began outlining the “excellent” financing options available at Cars! Cars! Cars!, but I interrupted.
“Could you give us a minute?” I asked him. “This is a big decision.”
“It’s a big truck!”
“I think we’ve proven that,” Bambi mumbled.
Larry took a few conciliatory steps back, and Bambi leaned forward. “I almost wet my pants when you aimed for that flagpole,” she whispered.
“I missed the flagpole by at least three inches,” I whispered back.
“Try one.”
I took another look at my parking job. “One and a half,” I said. “And that’s not the issue. Travis is the issue, and we haven’t even mentioned him.” I jerked a thumb at the truck. “How the heck am I going to get out of buying this thing?”
“Give phony bank info.”
“Really?’ I asked. “Larry won’t catch me?”
“Not today, he won’t. He’ll call you tomorrow. You can think about that tomorrow.”
“Like Scarlett O’Hara?” I asked, but Bambi was already waving to Larry.
“We’ll take it!” she said.
***
Like everything else at Cars! Cars! Cars!, the showroom was enormous. We settled ourselves at a large desk at the back wall, and Larry handed me a stack of paperwork and began fiddling with the computer.
He paused, his fingers poised above the keyboard. “Your address and phone number, Dr. Jones?”
Bambi elbowed me, and I remembered my name. I thought fast and gave my old apartment address but decided it wouldn’t hurt to use my actual cell phone number. He’d never reach me on that.
Larry had other questions, but I ignored him and concentrated on the photographs of the sales staff lining the wall above his head. Ross the Boss presided over everyone else. And Travis was up there, too. Right in the middle of the row of pictures below Ross.
“Is that Ross the Boss’s son?” I pointed to Travis’s photograph. “The family resemblance is striking. Father and son are such handsome men.”
Bambi looked at me as if I had lost my mind, and Larry also frowned. He handed me a list of “Upgrade Options” and explained why the sticker price on the truck was only a rough estimate.
Bambi leaned over to take a look. “You mean she has to buy the tires separately?” she asked, and Larry assured us they were top of the line.
“But back to Ross’s son,” I said. “Why haven’t I ever seen him in the Cars! Cars! Cars! commercials?” I pointed again. “Especially since he works here.”
“Supposedly works here.” Larry snorted. “Mr. La Barge won’t ever flaunt that kid on TV.”
I caught Bambi’s eye. “Why’s that?”
Larry jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “That’s as clean and sober as I’ve ever seen Travis.”
I feigned shock. “Ross the Boss allows his son to drink at work?”
Another snort. “No worries there, little lady. Travis has been here maybe twice in his whole life.”
About then, an older guy in glasses joined us, and Larry started clicking furiously at the keyboard.
“You ladies getting everything you need from Larry?” the guy in glasses asked.
“We’re on a roll,” Bambi said.
***
“Staff meeting in five minutes!” a female voice announced from behind us, and the paperwork on my lap went flying.
“Oh, no,” I mouthed to Bambi as the two of us shifted slightly to take a peeky.
“Oh, yes,” she hissed. She grabbed my arm, and we hit the deck as Janet La Barge swept across the room. We were feigning great interest in gathering up the paperwork when she stopped in front of us.
Insert colorful words … Here.
Chapter 20
“Do you think she recognized me?” I asked.
“Do you think at all?” Bambi said. “What possessed you to run away like that?”
“Fear, panic.” I stared past my dashboard at Cars! Cars! Cars! “Terror.”
Bambi admitted Janet was a little scary. “But you’re not on TV, like she is. And you’ve never actually seen her at Lake Bess, right? So she wouldn’t recognize you, right?”
“Not unless she’s seen the latest Hanahan Herald.”
Bambi groaned. “And she had to notice how we high-tailed it out of there. Larry screaming, ‘Wait, Dr. Jones! Wait!’ wasn’t exactly subtle.”
“Speaking of which,” I said. “Why, oh why, did you tell him we’re college professors?”
“We are college professors. I thought our doctor titles would give us an air of authority.”
I started the engine. “There’s a first time for everything.”
***
“Dr. Baxter?” Keith Wheeler hollered from behind the bar. “Is that really you?”
“There’s a first time for everything.” I waved to my former student, and Bambi and I made our way over.
Mandy’s is a Crabtree College hangout, so it made sense that I’d know the bartender. And I guess it also made sense Keith would be shocked to see me. Mandy’s is a student hang out, not faculty.
“I can’t believe it’s you,” he said.
I told him even teachers have to eat and introduced him to Dr. Vixen, and Bambi and I took two bar stools as he continued staring. “Our burgers are good,” he said.
We agreed to burgers
, Bambi ordered a beer, and I took a Diet Coke.
“Can he be trusted?” she whispered as he left to place our orders.
I sure hoped so. But Keith was back with our drinks before I had time to think about it.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said before I lost my courage. “I need your help.”
“I haven’t seen your dead girl,” he said, and Bambi choked on her beer.
***
Being authoritative college professors, we recovered. “I take it you saw this week’s Hanahan Herald?” I asked Keith.
“Hanahan Who?”
Bambi helped me out and asked him how he knew about the dead woman.
“Oh, everyone knows.”
I made the mistake of asking who everyone was and quickly discovered that the Crabtree College grapevine was alive and kicking, even during the summer. Keith had heard the story from a student named Frank Hershey. Frank had heard from another student, Heather Something, who had heard about it from a Reba Something.
“And Reba has a cousin, or brother, or something in the Lake Elizabeth Fire Department,” Keith said. “Did you really find her naked?”
“Nooo,” I said. “She wasn’t naked.”
“Umm, that’s not what I meant, Dr. Baxter.”
I hesitated, but had to ask, “What did you mean?”
“Everyone’s saying you were naked.”
I shoved aside my Diet Coke and ordered a beer.
***
While I sipped bad beer, Bambi enlightened Keith on the basic facts, and a waitress brought our lunch.
He waited until she stepped away. “You were in your pajamas?” he whispered.
I put down a French fry. “My outfit isn’t the issue.” I used my teacher-voice. “The missing woman is the issue. And I think you might know something.”
“Me!?”
“Yes, you. You work here, don’t you?”
“You think the redhead hung out at Mandy’s?” Keith asked. “I don’t think so, okay? I’d remember a girl like that.”
I shook my head and told him I had something else in mind. “I think you might know someone who knew the redhead.”
“Me?”
Bambi tapped my knee. “Subtlety,” she whispered.
But in case you haven’t quite caught on, subtlety isn’t one of my better skills. I had no idea how to find out about Travis without actually mentioning Travis. I mentioned Travis.
“How do you know Travis?” Keith asked. “He doesn’t go to Crabtree.”
I ignored the question and asked my own. “Was Travis La Barge in here on Monday?”
Keith gave it some thought. “No,” he said. “Mondays are our slowest night, so I’m pretty sure I’d remember him. Especially if he was with that redhead.” He squinted. “Did Travis know the dead girl?”
I ignored that question also. “What about drugs?” I asked, and Keith jumped ten feet in the air. I waited until he landed. “I’m curious where he gets his drugs.”
“Umm, let me get that bill for you,” Keith said and ran away.
Bambi looked up from her lunch. “Subtlety is your middle name,” she told me.
I didn’t have to respond, because about then, my cell phone rang. “There really is a first time for everything,” I said. I didn’t recognize the number, but it was from Hilleville. Hoping it was Gabe, I answered.
“Cassie! It’s Maxine!” She didn’t wait for a response. “I am so glad you answered! I’m at the library, and I called your house, but no one answered, and I was afraid I didn’t have this number, but I finally found it, and then I was afraid it wouldn’t go through, because you know how cell phones work around here, and then I was afraid—”
“Maxine!” I interrupted. “I’m busy. What is it?”
“It’s the dead woman, Cassie. They found her.”
Chapter 21
“What!? Who? Where? When?” I looked at Bambi. “How?”
“I don’t know,” Maxine said. “It just came over the newswires, and my editor at the Herald called me. I hung up on him to call you.”
“Did Gabe find her?”
“I don’t know,” she whined. “But wherever you are, turn on a TV. Channel 9 is your best bet. This should get a special report.”
I hung up, gestured to Keith, and pointed to the TV overhead. “Channel 9.”
***
“That’s a lot of mud,” Bambi said.
“That’s a lot of state troopers,” Keith said.
I shushed them both, and we watched the TV.
A Channel 9 reporter and a bunch of state troopers and other official-looking people were wandering around in the mud at Golden Rock—a popular hiking spot just outside Montpelier.
The reporter interviewed the trooper in charge, and we learned some hikers had discovered the body of a woman that morning. The reporter asked for details.
“We know very little right now,” the cop said. “But we suspect foul play.”
“No kidding,” I said, and Bambi reached over for my hand.
“It seems likely the body has been here a few days,” he said.
“No kidding again.”
The reporter asked if the woman had been identified, and the trooper said not yet. “But we estimate she was in her twenties, and she had red hair.”
“No kidding, no kidding, no kidding.”
“We’re asking anyone with any information to contact their local authori—”
I squeezed Bambi’s hand. “Can you get a ride home?”
“Go,” she said, and I ran for the door.
***
“What do you want?” Sarah Bliss was her usual cordial self.
“I want to see Gabe,” I said. “I don’t intend to put up with your garbage. And I don’t intend to wait.”
“He’s not here.”
“Well where the hell is h—” I stopped and took a deep breath. This was a good thing, right? Gabe had better things to do than pussy-foot around with me, right?
I changed my tone. “He’s heard the news, hasn’t he?” I asked. “Is he in Montpelier?”
“How should I know? Why Montpelier?”
“Sarah! Because that’s where the body was found. That’s where Trav—” I stopped myself again. “Is Gabe at Golden Rock?” I asked.
“It’s out of his jurisdiction.”
“Pardon me?”
“Golden Rock is in the next county.”
“What!? Are you actually telling me Gabe doesn’t care because she was found in the next county?” I flapped my arms, and jumped up and down, and pretty much went nuts.
“Would you calm down?”
“No!” I screamed, and she flinched. “If I don’t get some satisfaction I swear I will jump over this counter and strangle you, you stupid—”
She held up a hand. “Maybe I’ll let you talk to P. T.”
“Who’s P. T.?”
She reached for her phone. “You’ll see.”
Unfortunately, I did. Almost immediately, a very young deputy sheriff popped out from the hallway and lunged for my hand.
“P.T. Dent at your service!”
***
I’ll spare you the stupid conversation about the stupid weather, and how long it took the deputy to lead me to the door with the stupid paper nametag. But eventually, we were sitting in his office, and P. T. was fumbling to find paper and pen.
“What can we do for you today, Ms. Baxter?”
“I know about the body they found at Golden Rock.”
A blank stare.
I tried again. “Do you know about the body they found at Golden Rock?”
Another blank stare, but I assume he noticed the steam that was coming out my ears. “It’s supposed to be my day off,” he said. “But Sheriff Gabe called me in. He left in a real hurry and told me to man the ship.”
“But he didn’t tell you why?” I said. “Sarah didn’t tell you why? You really don’t know why?”
“Why?”
I explained why.
“You think the woman at Golden Rock is the person you saw in Mallard Cove?” he asked.
“I know she is.”
“But it’s a different county. And your woman was only sleeping.”
I walked out before I strangled him.
***
I considered going to the Hilleville Police Department, but I wasn’t in the mood for a fender bender, right then. So instead I headed back to Montpelier—this time to the State Troopers office. Why I hadn’t thought of that in the first place, I don’t know. But I knew where the headquarters were, parked my car, and marched in.
“I want—I demand—to see the person in charge,” I told the trooper who greeted me. “I know about the woman at Golden Rock.”
He looked me up and down. “Curly blond hair, teeny-tiny.” He caught my eye. “Are you Cassandra Baxter?” he asked. “Captain Sterling’s been looking for you.”
Chapter 22
Captain Jason Sterling didn’t pussy-foot around. By the time we got settled in his office, he knew I’d seen him on TV, and I knew he had heard about me from Gabe.
“Cleghorn gave me your contact info, but not much else,” Sterling said. “I left a message at your home, and I tried your cell, but you know how that works.” He pulled out a legal pad and about a dozen pencils. “Now then,” he said. “What happened Tuesday? I want all the details.”
I did my best.
“Did anyone else see anything?” he asked as I finished up.
“Miss Rusty.”
“Rusty.” He wrote down the name. “First name or last?”
“She’s a dog.”
Sterling looked up. “Excuse me?”
“Miss Rusty is Evert Osgood’s basset hound. She barked at something that morning. No,” I corrected myself. “She barked at someone. I think she saw Travis La Barge, and he fed her to shut her up, and—”
Sterling held up a hand. “Other witnesses?”
“Rose and Ruby.”
“More dogs?”
“Nope. Goats.” While Sterling wrote down their names, I explained Oden Poquette’s goat problem. “I know it sounds crazy,” I said. “But Rose and Ruby saw even more than Miss Rusty did.”
Sterling told me not to feel bad. “This can’t be the first crime in Vermont witnessed by livestock.”
Unbelievable Page 10
