Cooking the Books

by Chelsea Thomas

“That seems vague,” Jennifer said. Wow. Perceptive.

  Outside, Wayne and Detective Flanagan climbed out of the cop car and my palms got sweaty. Seeing as how I had just stolen a pair of federal documents from a former high school nemesis, I was not in the mood to talk to the cops.

  But Jennifer didn’t want to let it go. “Can’t you tell me anything else?”

  “I don’t know anything else,” I said. “Google it!” Oh no, why did I say Google it?!

  I turned to Miss May and Teeny. “Ready to go?”

  “Yup,” Miss May put a comforting hand on Jennifer's shoulder. “So sorry about this terrible burglary. You come by the farm any time for a little pick-me-up treat, on us. OK?”

  “And good luck with the Titanic furniture,” Teeny said.

  Jennifer smiled her tight “I’m-Too-Good-for-You” smile and opened the door to reveal Wayne and Flanagan crossing the yard towards the porch.

  As usual, Flanagan looked like she was modeling a ‘Sexy Cop’ Halloween costume. Her legs were so long, they went to her chin.

  “Finally,” Jennifer said when she saw Wayne and Flanagan. “I called you guys half an hour ago.”

  “Had to stop for gas,” Wayne said. “Sorry.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Jennifer had a point there. Stopping for gas? Pine Grove was so small, the cops could have walked to Hastings Pond in less than ten minutes without raising their heart rates.

  Wayne spotted me as he reached the door. He did not seem thrilled to see me. “Chelsea. Mind telling me what you’re doing here?”

  “Oh, uh, yeah,” I said. I was about to stammer my way into sounding stupid, but then I remembered my original excuse. “I needed a haircut.”

  Wayne hooked his hands on his belt, looking skeptical. “Haircut, huh?”

  “Yup,” I said. “Jennifer's not open now, but I'll come back soon.”

  “How about next Tuesday at two?” Jennifer asked. “Your split ends are puke.”

  I sighed. “Perfect. See you then.” Then I gave Wayne and Flanagan a polite nod and led Teeny and Miss May back over by the van.

  That was a close call. And from the look on Wayne's face... he knew something was up.

  Wayne caught up to us as we were about to pull out of Jennifer's driveway. “Ladies. Hold up!

  Miss May smiled. “Sure thing, Detective.” There was a twinkle in Miss May’s eye that made me uncomfortable. “Would you like to talk to all of us at once? Or would you rather have a private conversation with my single and beautiful niece, Chelsea?” She turned to me. “What do you think, Chelsea?”

  I cringed. Miss May was such a graceful conversationalist, I wished she would have used more tact with Wayne. “I think my singleness doesn't have much to do with last night's murder, Miss May.”

  Wayne chuckled. I perked up. Had I just made Wayne laugh?

  “I agree,” he said. “That's not what I want to talk about.”

  “Let's talk about you then, Detective,” Miss May said. “What's your relationship status?”

  Wayne blushed. The red in his cheeks only made his eyes look bluer. I thought about how he’d probably look handsome with a sunburn. Then I kicked myself for thinking that.

  “I am also single, as it happens,” he said. I caught Flanagan stealing a look in Wayne’s direction as he spoke. Could she hear him? “But that’s because I’m focusing on my career right now.”

  “Your career, right,” Miss May said. “Police stuff. That’s why you wanted to talk to us. Go ahead. Talk away. You can start with Chelsea. Single. Age-appropriate. Beautiful. Getting a haircut next week.”

  That time, I was the one who blushed. “Miss May. Stop!”

  Miss May threw up her hands. “OK, OK. So sue me for wanting to see two attractive, eligible young people happy.” She turned to Wayne, “How can we help you?”

  “I was just going to say, uh—” He looked at me and blushed again. “I’m sorry, I lost my train of thought.”

  Miss May smiled. “Oh, come on, don't let me embarrass you. You’re two grown adult people. I'm sure you recognize one another as potential mates.”

  Potential mates?! Gross. “I’m getting in the car,” I said and opened the door to the convertible.

  “Wait,” Wayne said.

  I turned back and held my breath. Maybe Wayne did want to talk about our singleness...

  He continued, “I want to make sure the three of you know that it's illegal to use a police scanner to intercept crimes. Do you know that?” Miss May, Teeny and I looked at one another and nodded.

  “OK,” Wayne said. “Because you seem to always end up at the scene of the crime.”

  “We're here by coincidence,” Miss May said. “Like I said, we came here for Chelsea’s haircut. Then when we learned about the break-in and stuck around to give Jennifer a shoulder to complain on.”

  Wayne blinked, confused. Miss May's excuse was so genuine it caught him off guard. “Is that really what happened?”

  Miss May smiled. “Yup.”

  “Oh,” Wayne said. “Well...stay off the scanners.”

  Flanagan called over from the porch. “Detective Hudson! Let’s move!”

  Wayne took a deep breath to regain his composure. “Coming!” Then he hurried toward Flanagan. Miss May, Teeny, and I watched him go. Was it me, or did he leave a spicy, piney scent in the air as he trekked away?

  I was so distracted watching — and smelling — I almost forgot what had happened in Jennifer’s house. Then I felt the passports in my pocket and I was overcome by a desire to open them up and look inside.

  12

  Flamingo Flamingo

  I BLURTED OUT MY SECRET as soon as we turned the corner and left Jennifer's house in the distance. “I stole two passports from Jennifer’s house!”

  Teeny turned to look at me, almost swerving into a ditch as she drove. “Say what now!?”

  “Watch the road!” Miss May grabbed the wheel to right the car, then turned back to me. “Have you looked at the passports? Do they help?”

  “I haven't looked yet.”

  Teeny turned back and veered once more. “Well, look now!”

  I made eye contact with Miss May. “Should I?”

  Miss May and Teeny replied in enthusiastic unison. “Yes!”

  I pulled the passports out of my pocket and got my first good look at them. Neither passport had any creases or folds, and it didn't look like anyone had used them to go anywhere.

  Miss May craned her neck back at me. “Open them up! What do they say?”

  I flipped the first passport open, looking for a photo and a name. And when I got to the identification page, the photo and name shocked me.

  “Holy moly,” I said.

  “What is it!?” Miss May craned her neck so far back she almost fell into the backseat.

  “It’s a photo of Charles Fitz. But the name and address aren’t his.”

  Miss May reached out, and I gave her the passport. “Are you saying you found a fake passport in there!?”

  She held the passport up to the light. “Holy moly is right!”

  “What’s it say?” Teeny asked. “What’s the name?”

  “Ernest Flamingo.”

  Teeny got so excited she honked the horn. “Whoops. Sorry other drivers, not about you!” She stole a glance in Miss May’s direction. “A fake passport and a cheesy alter ego!? Hot dog! This murder’s even better than the last one!”

  “Teeny!” Miss May scolded.

  “Oh, you know what I mean,” Teeny said.

  I swallowed hard, feeling less than thrilled. The passports had just upgraded our case into one of international intrigue. I wasn’t sure the three of us small-town sleuths were qualified to solve a case involving murder and forgery. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to try.

  “What’s the other passport say?” Teeny said.

  “Yeah, come on! Open it!” Miss May said.

  I opened the passport, turned to the page, and gasped.

  Teeny tapped on the
wheel, unable to contain her excitement. “Twenty bucks it’s got a picture of the girl, and her last name is Flamingo.”

  “You’re right.” I held the passport out to Miss May. “It’s Jennifer. And the name is ‘Penelope Flamingo.’”

  Teeny slapped her knee in celebration. “I knew it! I knew it! Lemme see!”

  Miss May reached back again, and I handed her the second passport. Teeny tried to grab it but Miss May pulled it away. “You can see once we’re parked,” Miss May said. Then she held the photo up to the light for an inspection.

  “This looks so real,” Miss May said. “They both do.”

  “I know,” I said. “It’s freaking me out.”

  “You are such a baby, Chelsea.” Teeny took a hard right into the farm. “Only you would be freaked out by two people who go by the last name ‘Flamingo.’”

  “I’m just saying, this goes deeper than we thought,” I said. “And we still have no idea who killed Charles.”

  “I think it was Jennifer,” Teeny said. “Maybe she got greedy. Wanted the money for herself.”

  “That’s too easy,” Miss May said.

  “So then you think it was Principal Fitz?” I felt queasy asking the question. Sure, Florence Fitz had been a strict principal, but she was one of the few women in Pine Grove who’d held a position of power when I was a kid. When I was a student at PGHS, I had looked up to her. I wanted Miss May’s answer to be “no.”

  Miss May pinched her bottom lip and tugged. “I don’t know. Scorned lover. Classic motive for murder. But Florence said she didn’t know about the cheating until after Charles died. And I believe her.”

  “Then what about this mystery burglar?” I asked. “Maybe Charles owed the guy money. Maybe the guy found out Charles and Jennifer planned on skipping town. Maybe the guy got angry. Killed Charles. Tried to find the cash at Jennifer’s place.”

  “Guy or girl,” Teeny said. “Let’s not be sexist in the Teeny Mobile.” Right. Pronouns.

  “Hold on, hold on,” Miss May said. “That’s a pretty good theory. But how do we find the guy or girl?”

  I sat up, having a light bulb moment. “Remember that sketchy guy we saw lurking at the high school the day after I found Charles? I just realized why he looked so familiar! He was at Winter Fest, staring at Jennifer. And he definitely wasn’t a local.”

  “That guy did seem suspicious,” Miss May said. “But how do we find him?”

  Teeny pulled into the drive-through line at Ewing's Eats — old-school burger stand in Pine Grove — and turned back to face me. “You talking about the guy wearing the hat from the Dragonfly Inn?”

  “I didn’t see his hat,” I said.

  “Big fella, wearing all black? The one smoking outside the school, right?”

  “Yeah.” I leaned forward.

  “I forgot all about it, but he came into the restaurant the other day. Ordered two stacks of pancakes and a glass of warm milk. I told him that was the weirdest damn order I ever heard. He just repeated it, all monotone. Thick Brooklyn accent. I thought he seemed like a cold-blooded killer. Didn’t put it together ‘til now.” Teeny rolled down her window as she approached the drive-through menu. “I think he’s staying at the Dragonfly Inn. He was wearing one of those ugly hats they give away. They should stop giving away those ugly hats.”

  “Hold on a sec.” Miss May rubbed the corners of her eyes in disbelief. “You’ve been sitting on info about a man who seemed like a ‘cold-blooded killer’ this whole time and you didn’t think to say something?”

  “Didn’t seem relevant until now.” Teeny pulled up in front of the speaker. “Can I please get a double chocolate Ewing Shake, double whipped cream, double sprinkles, four cherries on top?” She turned back to us. “You really think he could be the burglar?”

  “Yes!” Miss May and I said in unison.

  Teeny took her shake from the cashier, parked the car in a nearby spot, and sipped down half the shake in a matter of seconds.

  “You want me to call my sister at the inn, see if he’s still there?”

  Miss May looked at Teeny like, ‘What do you think?’

  “OK, OK.” Teeny handed Miss May the shake, pulled out her trusty little flip phone, and dialed. “No need to be all mean about it.”

  The phone rang a couple times, then I heard Teeny’s sister Peach pick up on the other line. Peach had a thick, husky voice that anyone would recognize.

  “Peach. It’s T.” Teeny grabbed her shake and took another sip. “Listen, you got a creepy guy staying there? You do? Is he in right now? No? Shucks.” Teeny reached into the shake and pulled out a cherry. “Do me a favor. When he gets in, tell him he won a contest.” She popped the cherry in her mouth and listened. “I don’t know, Peach. Tell him he's your ten thousandth customer, and he won a boat. Uh-huh. Yeah. He’s number ten thousand. Tell him the boat’s gonna be there in the morning. 9 AM. Second thought, make it 9:30. I need time to get ready.” Teeny stirred the shake and took another sip. “Just part of a little project I’m working on. K. Love ya.”

  Snap. Teeny shut the phone and popped another cherry in her mouth.

  Miss May and I looked at each other, dumbfounded.

  I tilted my head. “Did your sister just agree to trick a guest into thinking he had won a boat?”

  Teeny smiled. “That’s what family is all about!”

  The bottom of the cup rattled as Teeny sipped the bottom of her shake. The sound creeped me out and sent goosebumps traveling from my toes to my nose.

  I had a bad feeling. It was the same feeling I had whenever I found a dead body.

  Almost like I knew that I was about to find another one.

  13

  Pitbulls and Butterflies

  THE NEXT MORNING I was still half asleep when Miss May poked her head into my room. “How do you feel about walking over to the inn?”

  Walking to the inn meant I wouldn’t have to argue with Miss May about driving the van. Nor would I have to ride in the back of Teeny’s Death Rocket. I loved the idea, but I tried to play it cool. “I guess that could be OK.”

  “Good,” Miss May said. “But don’t you think this means I’m leaving you alone about that driver’s test.”

  I groaned. “OK.”

  Miss May put a cup of coffee on the dresser across the room. “We’re leaving in five minutes.”

  “Is there cream?”

  “It’s mostly cream, Chels. Come on. What did we, just meet? I know how you take your joe.”

  I waited for Miss May to exit, then the smell of the coffee lured me out of bed like a cobra under a snake charmer’s spell. Although I always masked the taste of my morning cup of coffee with ample cream and sugar, I still liked the aroma. So I stumbled over and took a sip. The drink warmed me. But when I looked outside at the frozen farm, I shivered. If Miss May, Teeny, and I walked over to the inn, I would need a heavy suit of armor. And Miss May had the best “armor” in town.

  When I pulled the foyer closet open, a dozen scarves sprang out and fell to the floor. I bent to scoop them up. Each piece had been handmade by Teeny, Miss May, or another woman in town. And they formed the most beautiful collection of scarves I’d ever seen. Long, short, black, blue, pastel, even Halloween and Christmas themed. Some scarves had nice patterns, some were simple. Each scarf, however, had that inimitable handmade quality you can never quite find in a store. They were extra-thick, and just imperfect enough to make you feel all fuzzy inside.

  I selected a bright red infinity scarf and wrapped it around my head. The scarf complimented my black winter jacket and bright red boots, and the whole ensemble made me feel like I was wearing a “winter walking” costume, which I loved.

  When I stepped onto the front porch, I took a deep breath of the crisp, quiet air. It had snowed the night before, so the orchard had a clean, white look, like laundry fresh out of the machine.

  Except for one thing...Teeny was smack dab in the middle of the yard, making a snow angel. I laughed when I spotted he
r. “Teeny! What are you doing out here?”

  “Winning a Nobel Prize, what’s it look like!? Get out here!”

  I tossed my bag on the porch, darted out to the yard and flopped beside Teeny. She jumped to her feet and pegged me with a snowball.

  “Hey! Don’t kick an angel when she’s down!”

  “Fine,” Teeny said. “I’ll wait.”

  I closed my eyes and flapped my “wings” back and forth, creating my first snow angel in years. It felt good to make an impression on the earth, even if it would only last ‘til the next snowfall. It occurred to me that in some ways that’s all anyone really wants.

  When I stood up, I was careful not to make any marks inside the snow angel. But as soon as I was on my feet again...PFF!

  Teeny hit me with another snowball, then another and another. I tried to run away, but I fell back onto the snow, laughing.

  When I looked up, Miss May was standing above me, shaking her head. “You two don’t have any plans to grow up, do you?”

  “Not if I can help it.” I said.

  “Me neither!” Teeny poked her head out from behind a tree and threw a snowball at Miss May. Miss May fired back with a snowball of her own.

  Thwap! It got Teeny right in the face. Teeny threw up her hands in protest. “No fair! You pitched softball in high school!”

  “Who said we had to play fair?” Miss May dusted the snow off her gloves and started down towards the road. “Now hurry up,” she said. “We need to go see a man about a boat.”

  Teeny rolled up another snowball and pegged Miss May in the back, but Miss May kept right on walking like she felt nothing at all.

  “You’re no fun!” Teeny hurried to catch up with Miss May.

  I stood, pulled my hat on tight over my head, and walked behind them. Sometimes I liked to let Miss May and Teeny chat, so I could get a little alone time. And there was no better alone time than a quiet walk through Pine Grove the morning after a fresh snow.

  The town hadn't plowed the roads yet, so when we exited the farm onto Whitehill, there was white as far as the eye could see. As we trekked over to the inn, I spotted a fawn in the woods.