I blew out a breath. “Apparently, this cruller queen’s lust for cash knows no boundaries. She must not realize the school system pays squat. That fry cook probably has more in his wallet that the principal.”
Jimmy shook his head. “I don’t think her primary motive is money.”
I blanched. After all, Florida was still technically America.
“If not money, then what?” I asked.
Suddenly, from the back room, Earl let out a groan that reverberated down the hallway.
Grayson pursed his lips. “Whatever the Queen’s personal motivation is will have to wait. The more pressing question for now is how she’s accomplishing mind control over the men.”
“I think I know,” Jimmy said. “I believe there’s something in the round wafer thing she makes the guys eat at the beginning of each meeting. I’ve noticed the more times each man attends, the crazier—and fatter—each gets. When I saw Earl this evening, I could tell he’d already eaten at least one. Am I right?”
I glanced down the hallway and bit my lip. “Yes. You’re right, Jimmy. I saw Earl eat it.”
Jimmy blew out a breath. “I knew it. That’s why I knocked him down. If he’d gotten ahold of another one, it might’ve been game over for him.”
“But ... you gave him another one, didn’t you?” I asked.
“No,” Jimmy said. “I only pretended to throw it into the bedroom.” He pulled the small, round, doughy object from his shirt pocket and held it up for us to examine.
“What is that?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Grayson said, studying it with a magnifying glass.
I sneered at it. “You think it’s laced with some kind of drug?”
“Indubitably,” Grayson said. He pulled a baggie out of his pocket. “Drop that in here, Jimmy. I want to test it.”
“For drugs?” Jimmy asked. “What kind do you suspect?”
Grayson chewed his lip. “Perhaps performance enhancers.”
“Ugh!” I groaned. “Men will do anything to—”
“I meant sales performance enhancers,” Grayson said. “From what you and I observed ourselves, the meetings appear to include some kind of team building exercises, do they not?”
“Maybe,” I said.
“Oh!” Garth said. “I know! Maybe the drugs are mood enhancers—and the meetings are pep rallies. You know. To get the guys all jacked up to sell more crullers.”
Jimmy shook his head. “I think there’s more to it than that. Or, should I say, less to it.”
My nose crinkled. “What do you mean?”
Jimmy clicked the display on his cellphone. “If this is only about selling Kristie’s Frickin’ Crullers, the company itself doesn’t appear to be doing much to build any kind of retail presence.”
“Intriguing,” Grayson said. “Go on.”
“Okay. At the end of each meeting, Queen Kristie hands each guy a bag of donuts. But as far as I can tell, there aren’t any retail shops in town. No online delivery ones, either. In fact, I haven’t seen a single sign of Kristie’s Frickin’ Crullers outside of these bizarre nighttime bonfire meetings.”
“That’s odd.” Grayson said, tapping on his computer keyboard. “You’re right, Jimmy. There’s not a single mention of Kristie’s Frickin’ Crullers on the web.”
My nose crinkled. “What does that mean?”
Grayson closed his laptop with a snap. “It means that Kristie’s Frickin’ Crullers is either a front for something else, or whoever’s running it is keeping the operation top secret until it’s ready to be rolled out.”
“Whatever it is, it’s big,” Jimmy said. “I heard Queen Kristie tell one of her minions that her plan was going to change the world as we know it.”
“Indeed.” Grayson’s eyebrow went up like Spock’s. “I’ve heard those exact words before. But not to worry, my friends. No matter how well-funded or charismatic the leader, not every plan works out as intended.”
My lip snarled. “Grayson, are you comparing Queen Kristie to Hitler?”
“No,” he said. “Steve Jobs. Remember the Segway?”
I sighed, shook my head, and turned to Jimmy. “Not to be rude or anything, but I couldn’t help but notice you’ve put on a few pounds yourself. How many of those queen’s Quaaludes have you eaten?”
“None,” Jimmy said, his body stiffening. “I swear!”
“Well, kudos to you, then,” Grayson said. “You certainly take your role seriously. Not everyone could gain that much weight so quickly for an undercover role.”
“Uh ... I didn’t,” Jimmy said.
Then he dug his fingers into his neck behind his ears and pulled off his double chin.
Chapter Forty-One
"Aack!" I screeched, as a pork-chop sized hunk of Jimmy’s neck fell off. I scrambled out of the banquette like my hair was on fire. “He’s turning into ... into one of them!”
“Relax!” Jimmy said, peeling off his double chin like it was a neck brace. “It’s foam rubber. I’m wearing a fat suit.”
My jaw hit the floor. “But .... Why?”
“Ha!” Grayson said, and pounded his fist once on the table. “I knew you ran too fast for a fat man!”
“Don’t worry, Ms. Drex! It’s part of my undercover disguise,” Jimmy said. “Like I told you, I noticed all the guys in the Cruller clan were getting fat. So I had Sherman’s mom make me up. She’s a master of disguise, you know.”
“Uh ... yeah,” I said. “I saw her human bulldog mask.”
The guys all stared at me, not uttering a word.
I grimaced. “That was no mask, was it?”
Jimmy pursed his lips and shook his head. Then he held up his fake chin. “Anyway, I wore this to fit in. Once I noticed everyone ballooning up, I thought I’d better follow suit.”
Grayson laughed. “Follow suit, fat suit. I get it.”
Garth grabbed the rubber chin and shot me a buck-toothed grin. “Like I said before, Pandora. You can get anything on Amazon.”
Still reeling slightly, I shot Jimmy a weak smile. “Uh, sure. It makes perfect sense now. So Jimmy, you’ve actually been attending these bonfire meetings?”
Jimmy nodded. “A couple.”
“Well, what have you learned?” I asked.
“Not a whole lot. At the beginning, the guys line up and eat the wafer thing. Then they stand around while Queen Kristie talks. I’ve tried to listen to what she’s saying, but I can’t seem to retain anything. I just zone out, nod and smile.”
My brow furrowed. I glanced over at Grayson. “You think she might be hypnotizing them?”
“Unlikely,” he said. “From what I’ve observed, that’s what normally happens to a man when a woman speaks.” Grayson winked at Jimmy. “Son, that’s your survival instinct kicking in.”
I smiled tersely and kicked Grayson’s shin under the table. “Jimmy dear, before you uh ... tune out, have you been able to remember anything Queen Cruller’s said?”
He shook his head, his now slim, pinkish neck looking like a plucked turkey neck compared to his still fat foam-rubber body.
“Nothing that makes sense, Ms. Drex. From what I could gather, it’s mostly sales mumbo jumbo. Percentages, infestation rates, that kind of stuff.”
I nearly swallowed my tonsils. “Infestation rates?”
Jimmy bit his lip. “Uh ... she might’ve said penetration rates.”
Garth snickered.
I grimaced.
Geez. Which is worse?
“What else happens during the meetings?” Grayson asked. “Concentrate. Any detail may prove significant.”
Jimmy thought for a moment, then spoke, looking at the ceiling as if recalling the scene play by play.
“At the end of each meeting, Queen Kristie draws her sword and points it to the sky. She stomps her feet. Then she lets out a weird yell.”
“I think we’ve heard that,” Grayson said. “Like someone throttling a yodeler?”
“Yes!” Jimmy said. “I call it the
Cruller Holler.”
“What happens next?” I asked.
“The men holler back. Queen Kristie lowers her sword, and all the men follow her lead, like they’re her soldiers or something. From what I can tell, that concludes the official part of her meeting. Afterward, the guys either run through hot coals or disperse back to their vehicles.”
Grayson rubbed his chin. “So this actually could simply be some kind of ‘pep rally,’ just as Garth said.”
Garth beamed with buck-toothed pride.
“Maybe,” I said. “But a pep-rally for what? She could be building a sales team or an army of soldiers. We need to find out more about this Queen Kristie chick.”
“Absolutely,” Grayson agreed. He turned to Jimmy. “Have you tried tailing her?”
Garth snickered. I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah, I’ve tried,” Jimmy said. “But so far, I haven’t been able to see where Queen Kristie goes after the meetings. I’ve followed her down Whirlwind Trail twice, but it’s like she disappears into thin air.”
“Maybe she just takes off her robe and turns sideways,” I said sourly. “The woman’s a donut pusher and she’s as thin as a stick. Something isn’t right about that. As my grandma Selma always said, never trust a skinny cook.”
“Don’t hate her because she’s beautiful,” Jimmy said.
“Beautiful?” I hissed. “I got a quick look at her when Earl went up to Miss Queenie’s ‘throne’ to eat that damned wafer thing. If you ask me, there was something oddly inhuman about her face. You know. Like a Kardashian.”
“Hmm,” Grayson said. “This information could change everything.” His glowing green eyes locked onto Jimmy, who was tugging at the torn neck of fat suit as if it were itchy. “You said the first time you were offered a wafer, you put it in your mouth.”
“She did,” Jimmy said. “But I didn’t swallow.”
Grayson’s eyes narrowed. “Why not?”
Jimmy leaned back in the booth. “I was suspicious.”
“That it was part of a cult initiation?” Grayson asked.
“No,” Jimmy said. “Because crullers don’t have holes.”
“Yes!” Grayson pounded his fist on the table again. “My thoughts exactly! Excellent deductive reasoning, Jimmy.”
You’ve got to be kidding me...
“So,” Grayson said, leaning over the table toward fake-fat Jimmy. “Did you note any effects from your brief oral contact with the suspicious donut hole?”
“Actually, now that you mention it, yes,” Jimmy said. “I felt ... a jolt of euphoria. I immediately thought the wafer might contain Ecstasy or LSD or something. So I spit it out and slipped it into my pocket. Then I started to feel anxious.”
“That’s understandable,” I said, “considering you were surrounded by weirdos in robes, dancing around a damned bonfire.”
“Yeah,” Jimmy said. “But what I felt was more than just anxiety. It was ... I dunno ... a hollow, unsatisfied feeling.”
“Are you saying you felt hungry?” I asked.
Jimmy chewed his lip. “Yeah. Sort of. But it was a strange kind of hunger. I’d call it more of a craving. When I got home, no matter what I ate, I didn’t feel satisfied. Like when you eat something sweet, then you eat something salty to balance it out. You know what I mean?”
I glanced away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Jimmy sighed. “Well, anyway, it was that kind of feeling—only on steroids.”
“What did you do to satiate this feeling?” Grayson asked.
Jimmy looked down at the table. “It was pretty overwhelming. I didn’t feel like I could fight it. So I took a sleeping pill to knock myself out, and slept the whole night. When I woke up, I felt okay.”
“So you slept off the effects,” Grayson said. “How long did it take?”
“I woke up at close to noon,” Jimmy said. “So, I guess twelve hours?”
“And that was from just a taste,” I said. “Earl ate the whole thing.”
“So did Wade,” Jimmy said. “And now he’s missing. Like I said, I think there’s a lot more going on here than a bunch of country folks on a sales jamboree.”
All of a suddenly, an unearthly howl reverberated from the back bedroom.
Jimmy winced. “Whatever’s going on here, Earl’s got it bad. He just let out one hell of a Cruller Holler.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Earl let out another horrible holler and began banging on the door to the back bedroom.
I winced. “What’s going to happen to him?”
“I don’t know,” Jimmy said. “But if you don’t keep him caged up in there, he could disappear like Wade did.”
“From the sound of it, he’s going to have to detox,” Grayson said.
“I agree,” I said. “How long will that take?”
“Uncertain,” Grayson said. “Perhaps a day. Maybe more, depending on his metabolism.”
“He sounds terrible,” Jimmy said. “Are you sure he only ate one of those donut-hole things?”
“No,” I said. “But, I mean, where else could he have gotten ahold of any?”
“Wait,” Garth said, his eyes growing large. He elbowed his brother. “That bag of those crullers you brought home—”
Jimmy blanched. “You got my message not to eat them, didn’t you?”
Garth pushed his glasses up on his nose. “That’s what your weird message was about?”
“Yes,” Jimmy said, grabbing his brother by the shoulders. “I said, ‘Whatever you do, don’t eat them.’” He glanced up at me. “You got the text, right? Please! Tell me you didn’t eat them!”
“I didn’t,” Garth said, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “This rotten cold’s ruined my appetite for sweets.”
“Neither did we,” I said.
“Thank God,” Jimmy said, then blew out a breath. “We need to destroy those things before they fall into the wrong hands.”
Earl hollered again like a goat with a yodeling problem.
Garth gasped and shook his head. “If I’m right about this, I think we’re too late for that.”
GARTH WAS RIGHT. WE found the empty donut bag in the ditch, right where we’d found Earl lying about like a hobo gambler who’d just lost his last game of strip poker.
“It’s official,” Jimmy said, holding up the mangled paper bag. “Your cousin Earl ate them all.”
“Good grief,” I said, horror filling my gut. “Earl doesn’t have enough spare brain cells to survive this!”
“What are we gonna do?” Garth asked, chewing on a fingernail.
Grayson shook his head. “His detoxification could take weeks. Or he may never return to normal.”
“Even if he did,” I said, shaking my head, “how would we ever be able to tell?”
JIMMY CAME OUT OF THE restroom carrying thirty pounds of foam rubber in a giant Walmart bag. In his deflated clothes, and with patches of foam on his face, he looked like the sole survivor of a post-apocalyptic Weight Watchers marathon.
I poured him a cup of coffee. “How’d you know where we would be tonight, Jimmy?”
“After I saw Earl stumble into the meeting the night before last, I knew you were in town,” Jimmy said. “I figured you’d come in through the swamp from the main road. I found your tire tracks and waited to see if you showed up.”
“Why didn’t you just call us?” I asked.
“I should have. But I wanted to keep Garth out of this, and I wanted to protect you guys from whatever’s going on out there. But as soon as I spotted Earl, I knew he had the craving. I was too late.”
“I’m curious,” Grayson said. “If what’s happening to Earl is also happening to all those other men, why hasn’t anyone else reported it?”
“I think I’ve got this one,” I said, raising my index finger. “Let’s see. A bunch of middle-aged men overeating, ignoring their spouses, grunting like wild boars, and gallivanting at night with no good explanation when they get home. Gee. I haven’t got
a clue why their wives would think something odd is afoot.”
Grayson and Jimmy exchanged glances, then shrugged.
Suddenly, something scratched at the side door and whined.
“That must be Garth,” Jimmy said. “He’s back from feeding Tooth.”
Suddenly, the side door to the RV flung open. In the doorframe, a pair of yellow eyes and fangs greeted us.
“Tooth!” Jimmy said, calling to the massive black hound.
The dog jumped inside and leapt up in the booth with Jimmy.
“How are you, boy?” Jimmy asked, rubbing the slobbering hound’s ears. He glanced up at his brother. “Tooth looks skinny. Have you been feeding him?”
“Of course,” Garth said. “But apparently not enough.”
“Why?” Jimmy asked. “Did he get into the garbage again?”
Garth shook his head. “No. Earl beat him to it. But he snuck out of the gate this evening. I think he ate a roadkill possum.”
“You think he did?” Jimmy grimaced and wiped his slobbery face with a sleeve.
“Pretty sure. You saved me the tail, didn’t you boy?” Garth said, patted the dog’s massive head.
The dog licked Garth’s face, then lunged for the wafer in the baggie on the table. Grayson snatched it away in the nick of time.
“Not today, Doggie Wonder. I need to analyze this,” Grayson said, tucking the baggie into his shirt pocket. He turned to Jimmy. “Tell me. Besides the craving to eat more donuts, have you noted any other side-effects among the Cruller clan?”
All of a sudden, from the backroom came an unearthly banging.
“Let me outta here!” Earl yelled. “I gotta use the toilet! Bad!”
“Uh ...,” Jimmy grunted. “Just that one.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Scatman Dues (Freaky Florida Mystery Adventures Book 6) Page 16
