Case of the Burned Brownies

by Jessica Lansberry

  “Come on!” she yelled to Sophie and Stella, both still frozen inside the garage. They were more than likely content on waiting for the emergency services to turn up. Stella only ran for exercise and Sophie didn’t run at all, unless she was chasing invisible monsters.

  With the rain now pouring down overhead, and unfortunately wearing slip-on black shoes that had little to no grip, Beatrice turned and sprinted down the single road, in the direction of the smoke.

  As she ran, her mind raced. It must had been a pretty horrendous crash, considering how loud it had been, and that wasn’t to mention the huge amounts of smoke still billowing from the crash site. Where there was smoke, there had to be fire. Beatrice just hoped that it wasn’t as bad as she was picturing in her head.

  It was after several minutes of running and slipping at what Beatrice considered to be a full sprint, that she finally saw the crash site. To her surprise, it was the blue Audi that Ms. Parker had recently collected from the mechanic. The entire vehicle was crumpled in at the nose where it had collided, head first, into the base of a large oak tree - the oak tree was still standing tall.

  Beatrice’s stomach dropped when she scanned the front driver’s side of the car, noticing that the doors were still firmly closed. Whether Ms. Parker was too injured to move, or trapped from the crash, she was evidently still inside the car. And this wouldn’t be the worst thing, if it wasn’t for the fire.

  Flames sizzled from the hood of the car, licking at the tree and emanating huge amounts of smoke that swirled up the trunk of the huge tree. Every second that passed, the flames grew and grew.

  “There!” Beatrice yelled to her two friends, both of whom were struggling to keep up. Beatrice was a good fifty feet in front of the two and now only about one hundred feet from the crash site. “We’ve got to hurry!”

  The closer she got, the bigger the flames grew. Beatrice kept her eyes on the front door of the car, determined to see if Ms. Parker emerged. That was the real fear; that she was trapped inside with no way of —

  A forceful explosion suddenly erupted from the car.

  Beatrice was no more than fifty feet from the crash site and felt the ground beneath her feet shake from the force. She could see the great oak tree rattle from the explosion. She also could see the blue Audi, the source of the explosion, literally lift into the air before crashing back down to the ground in a ball of flames.

  “Oh no! The brownies were in there,” Sophie puffed as she reached Beatrice. Clearly, she hadn’t yet comprehended the gravity of the situation.

  Beatrice, regaining her footing from the explosion, ignored Sophie as she turned to start to continue her sprint toward the car. Now that the explosion had calmed down, she might still be able to do something.

  “Hold it!” Stella yelled, grabbing Beatrice by the arm. “Are you crazy? What if it goes off again?”

  “Someone is in there!” Beatrice yelled back, trying but failing to wrench her arm from Stella’s vice like grip.

  “And if they are, there is nothing you can do for them,” Stella said seriously, fixing Beatrice with a stare that wasn’t to be argued with. As she did, she slowly let go of Beatrice’s arm, careful to make sure that Beatrice didn’t suddenly turn and start running toward the car again.

  Stella was right and Beatrice couldn’t argue with that. As Beatrice watched the wreckage of the blue Audi slowly become devoured by the escalating fire, she knew that Ms. Parker was dead. No one could have survived an explosion like that one.

  She also knew one other thing, this was no ordinary accident. Cars didn't just catch fire and explode like that. This wasn’t the movies. Someone had wanted Ms. Parker dead, and by the looks of it, they had succeeded.

  3

  The first thing Beatrice did was call 911. Within minutes of her arrival on the scene, dozens of locals began to gather around, all pointing and staring at the wreckage, but none of them actually bothering to do anything about it.

  The town of Mt. Morte was, as mentioned, a very small town. It was one of the towns where there was only one main road through town, with every small business and local store clustered together. As the crash took place on this street, it only stood to reason that half the town turned up.

  Beatrice also wondered if any of them knew Ms. Parker. They must have. A town like this left a sour taste in Beatrice’s mouth, knowing that a good deal of mourning would be taking place very soon. These people that pointed and stared probably had no idea who was involved in the crash. She was sure a loved one was in the vicinity.

  The fire department turned up as quick as would be expected. They put the fire out quickly, but even still, they were too slow to save both the car or the poor soul that was trapped inside. The car itself was a black ball of twisted metal. There wasn’t an inch of it that wasn’t destroyed. And then there was the body.

  There were gasps of shock and horror from the crowd as the burned and blackened body of Ms. Parker was pulled from the car by the firefighters. The body was so badly melted that it had attached itself to the seats. It took quite a bit of pulling and sawing to detach it. The sight of the body being carried into the back of the ambulance was one that Beatrice wouldn’t soon forget.

  But it was the tardiness of the police force that annoyed Beatrice the most. The fire was well and truly put out and the ambulance had already left by the time the lone police car turned up on the scene. It puttered along the road and through the throngs of people at such a slow pace that one would swear that someone hadn’t just brutally died in suspicious circumstances.

  When the car did pull up, it was literally right next to the burned Audi, practically about on top of it. If there was a crime scene, the police officer was doing the most he could to destroy it. And even once the car was pulled up, Beatrice could see him in the front seat, fixing his hair before climbing out and actually doing his job.

  Despite his obvious apathy toward the situation, Beatrice couldn’t help but be impressed by the lone officer that climbed from the car. He was without a doubt, one of the more handsome specimens that Beatrice had ever seen. He was tall, well-built, devilishly good looking with a square cut jaw, wavy blonde hair and just the right amount of stubble to make him look more rugged and handsome.

  “Oh my,” Stella gasped as she stepped next to Beatrice, her hand flying across and grabbing Beatrice’s arm as if needing it to support herself. “There’s someone who I would gladly let arrest me.”

  “Can you just… can you please behave yourself,” Beatrice asked her friend. Although she could tell from the hungry expression on her face that this was unlikely.

  She was going to pull Stella to the side and make her promise to keep it, whatever it was, in her pants for once. Beatrice wanted to get this whole thing over with and get back on the road before any more time was wasted. They were already late as it was and she didn’t need Stella asking for extra time so she could show him how older women did it, but before she got the chance, she spotted the handsome officer making a beeline for her.

  “Are you the one that called?” he asked in a slow, dimwitted drawl. Beatrice didn’t know what it was, but something about this officer made him seem rather, slow. It may have been the way he chewed on gum, or the way that he spoke. Whatever it was, she had a pretty good feeling that he wasn’t a Sherlock Holmes in the making.

  “That’s right. How did you know?” she asked.

  “Don’t recognize ya,” he responded. He wasn’t a bright one, that was for sure. “Been here my whole life too.” It was such a shame too, Beatrice thought, as those good looks instantly dulled in her eyes; the reality of the officer and the type of man he was, sinking in.

  If Beatrice was dissuaded by the country fella, Stella didn’t seem to mind one bit, holding her hand out for him to take. “I’m Stella,” she offered, flashing him a most wicked smile. “And you are?”

  “Officer Handy,” he responded, taking Stella’s hand and returning the smile. “Just come to make sure everythin’ is up to
scratch.” He puffed his chest out proudly, adjusting his belt at the same time.

  “Up to scratch?” Beatrice asked, confused by the phrase. Well, she knew what the phrase meant. But she wasn’t so sure that it applied to this situation.

  “Ya. Like that everything here is fine,” he said, giving Beatrice a look as if she were the one that said something stupid.

  “Well, now that you mention it,” Stella began. “I was a little hungry and was wondering if you could suggest somewhere to eat —”

  “Did you not see that someone was killed a few moments ago?” Beatrice cut in, elbowing Stella out of the way. She was becoming more confused by the minute and didn’t need Stella getting in the way.

  “Killed?” Officer Handy responded, looking dumbstruck. “Who? Ms. Parker? Nah, I don’t think so. Dead? Definitely. But killed?” He shook his head as if it were the most outrageous suggestion ever made.

  “What do you mean? Did you not see the flames? Or the body?” Beatrice started, getting a little frustrated. “If I was you, I would begin by questioning the mechanic. He was with us then vanished the moment the accident happened. And then —”

  “Hold up,” Handy interrupted. “Why don’t you let me do my job, OK? That’s what I’m here for. That’s why I wear the badge,” he said as he pointed toward the big shiny badge on his chest, smiling proudly as he did.

  Beatrice was starting to feel more than a little frustrated by Officer Handy and his obvious incompetence. Perhaps for the first time ever she wished that Detective Rogers, her home town police detective, were here instead. Although he would certainly waste time flirting with Beatrice, trying to get her to go on a date with him as always, he would at least take her a little more seriously, and he would at least see this crash site for what it was, a murder.

  “If there is any wrong doing, I’ll figure it out,” Handy finished, flashing Stella another smile. He really was gorgeous, just not very bright.

  As he sauntered away, Beatrice grimaced at the knowledge that this investigation was most likely over before it even began. Officer Handy seemed content on writing it off as a tragic accident and leaving it at that. Maybe he was lazy, or more perhaps he was stupid, but there was no questioning that he thought this kind of case was all but over.

  Beatrice knew that this was no accident. She knew enough about cars to know how they worked. She glanced quickly around the base of the giant tree, instantly noticing that there were no skid marks leading up to the crashed car. Someone had fiddled with the brakes, most likely cutting the wires. That would explain the nature of the crash in the first place.

  Then there was the way that the car had exploded. Cars didn’t just catch on fire and blow up. Someone had to have filled it with an explosive, and most likely coated the car in some kind of flammable liquid too.

  It was just as these ideas were coming to her that Buddy drove up in a pickup truck. By the looks of it the car was going to go back to his garage to be stripped apart. If he had been the murderer, then he was literally being given the means in which to dispose of the evidence.

  Unless… unless she snuck into the garage tonight? If she did, she could check the wires herself and —

  Beatrice stopped herself there, before she got anymore carried away. She knew what she was like and right now she was itching, not in the literal sense obviously, rather she was itching to get involved in the case. It was obvious that the cops weren’t going to, so someone had to step in and save the day.

  But then, she had to ask herself, why? She didn’t know the woman, and as callous as it might sound, Beatrice just couldn't go around, sticking her nose into places where it didn't belong. There were hundreds of murders every year. She couldn’t solve them all. Also, not to mention that she was in a strange town, with her two best friends who thought they were going on a vacation and a wedding ceremony that was expecting her. As much as Beatrice would have liked to have put her brain to the test, she just couldn’t.

  “So, what now?” Stella asked. Although she spoke to Beatrice, her eyes were still firmly fixed on Officer Handy, or to be more specific, his very tight jeans.

  “Now?” Beatrice began. “Now we get back in my car and try to make it to Kingstown before it’s too late. Come on Sophie!” Sophie was currently engaged in what looked like a hugging circle with a group of the locals. They all embraced and cried into each other's arms as Sophie patted them on the backs and consoling them.

  The moment she heard her name called though, she hopped to it, running after Beatrice and Stella who were already on their way back to the garage.

  “I guess those brownies are off the table?” Sophie asked as she caught up to them.

  Beatrice, despite her best intentions, was going to leave Mt. Morte and the case of the burned car to the professionals. Despite how unprofessional they may seem. If there was any sign of wrong doing, then she could only hope that they would deal with it. Right now, she had a wedding to make.

  4

  Beatrice’s plans to make haste from the small town of Mt. Morte were very quickly dashed upon their arrival back to the garage. The fact that her car had broken down had completely slipped Beatrice’s mind when she had been talking to the officer but now that she was back at the garage, staring at the useless automobile, the reality of the situation sunk in. The three ladies were trapped.

  At first, Beatrice held out hope that the mechanic might turn up suddenly and fix the car. If he did, then they could make it to the town of Kingstown, albeit a little late, but still in time for the wedding the next day. She would have happily driven the remaining seven hours, no complaints at all, if that were the case.

  But when the mechanic did eventually reappear, towing the burned car with him, she got the feeling that he wasn’t going to be too interested in fixing her car for her. And when she spoke to him, that feeling became fact.

  “Sorry lady, Officer Handy’s orders. I’m to strip this and report any signs of wrongdoing. Tonight.” Although he sounded a little mad about this, he looked somewhat pleased by the fact that it seemed to upset Beatrice.

  So, with no other option, Beatrice told the girls, with a heavy heart, that their vacation was starting a little early. The only problem was that it was going to be taking place in the cozy little town of Mt. Morte.

  ◆◆◆

  “Do you want the bad news or the worse news?” Stella asked. She had just come back from a hotel hunt and judging from both the look on her face and the way she opened the line of dialogue, Beatrice wasn’t going to like what Stella had found.

  “Tell me,” Beatrice said, trying to stay positive, but feeling that likelihood slipping away.

  “There’s only two hotels in this town. There’s that crummy one across the road and another that is even worse than that, if you believe it,” she offered, pointing to the hotel that sat directly across the road from the garage.

  When Beatrice’s eyes fell on the hotel, she felt her stomach drop. To call it a dump may have been generous. It was three stories that looked like it was built around the turn of the century. What was once a vibrant green coat of paint, was now old and faded; the roof was sunk in in places; windows were cracked and the entire building seemed to be leaning to the side as if threatening to fall at any moment. It was so broken down that Beatrice didn’t even notice the building when they first arrived in the town, assuming it was abandoned.

  “Well, maybe it’s nicer on the inside?” Beatrice suggested, hopefully. Although as she said this the image of her drinking champagne by the lakeside quickly diminished.

  “I wonder what the ghosts are like?” Sophie asked, wide-eyed.

  “Ghosts?”

  “It’s haunted, isn’t it? There has to be at least one ghost?” The way she asked made it sound like she was hoping that there was a ghost. At least that might add some excitement to what Beatrice predicted to be a very basic stay.

  “Let’s go find out,” Beatrice finally conceded, trudging across the road toward the dilapidated ho
tel.

  ◆◆◆

  If Beatrice had any hopes for the inside of the hotel outshining the exterior, those were swept away the moment she stepped into the lobby.

  In truth, the hotel wasn’t that terrible, just extremely old. Everything looked like it would have once made for a piece of spectacular decor, straight out of an old film. From the glass chandelier that hung from the roof, to the Gone with the Wind staircase set and the thick, shag pile carpet. It even had several cats, all reaching the end of their tether as they lay around, meowing but not moving. Once upon a time this hotel would have struck quite the residence. Now however, it was a little dated.

  “Can I help you ladies,” a female voice spoke from behind the check-in counter. “Room for the night?”

  “Oh, yes please,” Beatrice said, hurrying to the check-in. She wanted to get out of this lobby and into her room as soon as possible. She wasn’t going to give up hope on this hotel until she saw everything.

  The lady that had spoken looked, in Beatrice’s opinion, downright awful, and that wasn’t to say that she would usually look this way. With her long blonde hair, bright eyes and still youthful appearance, she was most likely a very pleasant looking lady, but right now, her eyes were swollen red and cheeks puffy and covered in dried tears; she looked a wreck.

  “Just the.... Just the three of you,” she asked, struggling with every breath.

  “Are you OK, dear?” Beatrice asked as she reached the counter. A silly question perhaps, but Beatrice couldn’t just take the room and leave the poor woman alone. She just wasn't built that way.