Authors: Cynthia Hickey
Chapter Sixteen
Back home and more confused than ever, I flopped across my
bed and dialed my best friend, Lynn’s, phone number. She wouldn’t care that it was after ten o’clock. Bosom buddies didn’t pay attention to tiny details like that.
“Do you know what time it is?”
Lynn’s sleepy voice rasped over the air waves.
Oops. Maybe time didn’t matter during high school, but it apparently did now. “You said I could call you any time.”
“Is this an emergency?”
“Not really. I just need to bounce some ideas across
you.” I twirled the phone cord around my finger. “Did you see the news?” Rolling to my back, I grabbed the remote. On the television, for all the world to see, was me pointing my finger at the camera, scowling, waving my arms, and looking like a complete lunatic. Wonderful.
Lynn giggled. “I’ve never laughed so hard in my life.
What did your Mom say about her baby?”
“Yeah, well, there’s a great picture of me
on the news right now. The weird thing is, she didn’t yell at Lindsey. Must be a grandmother/granddaughter thing.”
I could hear her shifting on her bed. “
It’s probably a good thing it’s a silent picture. I can just imagine what you said.”
I joined in her laughter. “I was really angry. But seriously, Bruce is accusing Lindsey of
pretty much every crime around here. It doesn’t look good since Bruce found someone’s missing wallet in her backpack.”
“
Ouch.”
“Y
eah, and she says that she and Billy were run off the road. Bruce doesn’t believe her.”
“You’re going to prove her innocence.”
“Somebody has to.” I moved back to my stomach and winced as the phone cord became tangled in my hair. The more I moved, the worse it got. I’d play things cool. No need to let Lynn know I’d done something stupid again. “I mean, Lindsey’s a typical teenager but she isn’t a thief.” Ow!
Tears sprang to my eyes.
Drat these old fashioned phones. I laid flat on my back with the phone between my cheek and the pillow and vowed to buy a cordless as soon as possible. “I made a list of possible suspects, but I never learned how to be inconspicuous. Could you do some spying for me?”
Lynn remained silent for several seconds. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. Everyone likes you. They tend to put restraining orders on me.”
“Fine, but it’ll have to wait until after
a meeting tomorrow. I’m not taking off work to spy for you. Speaking of—good night.” Click.
I
let the phone fall to the floor and stared at the ceiling wondering how I was going to get my hair free. Mom and Lindsey had already gone to bed. I felt the bed around me. A book. I tossed it against the wall. It thumped, I waited. “Mom!” I located a shoe and hurled it with a satisfying thud next to where I’d aimed the book. “Mom!”
She shuffled from the room next door and leaned against my door jamb. “What in the world?”
“I’m stuck.” I didn’t think I’d ever been this embarrassed in my entire life. If word of this got around. . .no one would be surprised. The thought depressed me.
“I ought to leave you there. You can’t get into trouble if you can’t move.” She sat on the edge of the bed and reached for my head.
The lights went out, casting us in semi-darkness. “Wanna bet?”
Mom reached over and flicked the switch on the lamp. “We probably just blew a fuse. I’ll be right back.”
“You aren’t going to leave me here unable to move, are you?”
She waved a hand. “Don’t be such a baby. I’ll be right back.”
Normally, the dark didn’t frighten me, especially a moon-brightened one. But lying imprisoned on my bed did not leave me feeling reassured. Footsteps scuffed in the hall outside my room.
“Hello?” My heart hammered loud enough for the people in the neighboring county to hear. “You’re not funny, Mom. Lindsey?” I tried swallowing against the cotton feeling in my mouth.
A person dressed in a black jumpsuit started to pass my room then paused in the doorway and looked inside. I blinked and shook my head. President Bill Clinton? A mask. I thrashed and pulled against my captive phone. The fake president continued to stare at me for a moment, eyes glittering through slits in the molded plastic, then whirled and disappeared. I swore his or her’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. Just wait until I got free. I lifted the receiver and frowned at the silence on the other end. “Mom, Lindsey, call 911!”
Lindsey stumbled into my room, rubbing her eyes. She burst into raucous laughter at the sight of me
, highlighted by moon beams, and bouncing up and down on the mattress. “Be right back.” She disappeared into my closet and re-emerged with my camera. “This is going on Facebook.” The flash lit up the room and blinded me. Then, I heard the snip of scissors. On no, she didn’t!
She did. I sat up, freed from the phone and sporting a new lopsided hair cut. I patted my head and shrugged. “You might as well make the other side match.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks. I’d been growing my hair for months.
“I only cut off one curl, Mom. Geez. You can’t even tell.”
The lights blinked back on and I stared across the room at my dresser. She was right. Barely noticeable.
“Sorry, Mom.” Lindsey plopped on the bed beside me. “There really wasn’t any other way.” She grinned. “I can’t wait to show the picture to my friends.”
Mom bustled into the room and clamped a hand over her mouth to prevent a snort from escaping. “Oh my.” Obviously, you
could
tell.
I lifted my chin and squared my shoulders. “
Close the door.” Mom raised her eyebrows and did as I asked. “There was someone in the house. An intruder. They stopped and glared at me from the door, then ran off. We need to call the police.”
“Probably the same person who flipped the breakers.” Mom nodded. “Who was it?”
I shrugged. “Bill Clinton.”
Mom frowned. “Can’t say I know
anyone by that name around here.”
“Not the actual person.
” I rolled my eyes. If I was going to solve this case, I’d need smarter sidekicks. “He wore a mask of the former president. I couldn’t tell whether they were male or female, but I intend to find out.” I rose to get a closer look at my hair. Not bad. A little snipping on the other side, and I could live with it. I glanced back at the auburn curl on my bed.
Lindsey grabbed the phone. “It’s dead.”
Mom leaned against the door. “We can’t lock this. Give me something heavy.”
“Tomorrow, I’m buying a car, a cell phone, and a Taz
er gun.” I stood with my mother, holding the door closed. “And maybe a dog. A big one.”
“I won’t have guns in the house. And cell phones give you brain tumors.
The dog might be okay, though.”
“I’m willing to take th
e risk with the phone, and a Tazer doesn’t shoot bullets, just electricity. We can’t stand here all night. I think the person is gone, but we need to make sure.” I bumped Mom with my hip and cracked open the door. Silence greeted me. “Okay, who wants to go downstairs and check on the phone?”
“Not me,” Mom and Lindsey said in unison.
“You went all the way to the basement, Mom.”
“That was before I knew we had an intruder.”
Great. It’s up to me, queen of the chicken club. I glanced around the room for something to use as a weapon. I grabbed the yard stick I’d used months ago to measure the windows for curtains, clutched it like a sword, and nodded for Mom to open the door.
The wood floor felt cool beneath my bare feet, and I moved soundlessly forward, jumping at every creak of the old house. Something banged
toward the front of the house. I spun and knocked a lamp to the floor, shattering the crystal vase. Wonderful. If the intruder didn’t kill me, Mom would.
Keeping my back plastered to the wall, I slid my way through the house
, holding my breath and leaping around corners in a stance of the Samurai. I’d located the source of the banging. The open front door swung to and fro.
Tacked to the frame around the window fluttered a white scrap of paper.
Chapter Seventeen
“It says to stop snooping.” I waved the paper in front of Bruce’s face. “This alone should tell you that Lindsey isn’t involved. Someone is setting her up.”
He rubbed his chin and paced my living room. “This does shake things up a bit.”
“A bit?” I
frowned and plopped onto the sofa. “Former President Clinton was in my house and that’s all you have to say? We could have been murdered.”
“They haven’t killed anyone yet.”
“What about Sharon?”
“We’re ruling that an accident.”
“I don’t intend to be the first murder victim, Bruce. I’m buying a dog.”
He glanced at me and shook his head. “I never could understand your jumping from one subject to the next.”
“I’m buying a dog for security reasons.” Made perfect sense to me.
Bruce finished searching the house, found nothing, which wasn’t a surprise since I told him the intruder had left. The man
doesn’t believe anything I say. Then he reminded us to lock up after he left. Did he think we were stupid?
Mom pushed to her feet
from where she’d slumped in her flowered easy chair and listened to the conversation between Bruce and me. “Once again, it’s after midnight and we’re not asleep. I’m getting too old for this.” She clapped me on the shoulder. “You take off work and buy that dog. A big one that barks. I’m going to bed. Oh, and no guns.”
“You’re buying a gun?” Bruce frowned. “I don’t think you and an armed weapon would be a good idea. I’d have to confiscate it.”
“Good grief. It’s not a real gun. Are you leaving soon?”
He stood and slapped his hat on his hat. “Yep. Heed my words, Marsha. I’ll lock you up if I have to.”
Idiot. Like I’d be that stupid. After he left, I locked the front door, checked the windows and backdoor then shuffled to my room. I lay on the bed, heart pounding and tried to come up with a plan to defend my family and solve the case before somebody else died.
The din of barking dogs vibrated against my ear drums, promising a doozy of a headache later. That, combined with lack of sleep, left me with little patience.
I fumbled in my purse for pain reliever and popped the pills without water.
Three aisles of prison
-like cells greeted me as I entered the building. Lindsey had disappeared looking for puppies. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Miss Hollywood Wannabe, Marilyn, sweeping out a cage, but I was. “You work here?”
The smile she flashed my way didn’t meet her eyes. “Yep. Gotta make money anyway I can if I’m going to leave this dump. What I
make walking dogs isn’t enough. I also do some janitor work.”
I jumped back to avoid being splattered with a not
-so-pleasant smelling gunk of something that slung off her broom. “I’ve decided to get a dog, but these all look too small.”
She motioned her head farther down. “The larger dogs are in the last two aisles.”
“Thanks.” I headed away and glanced over my shoulder to see her still watching me. Her ruby red lips thinned to where they resembled a slash in her face. The narrow-eyed look she tossed my way sent chills down my spine. Could she have left me the note on the door last night?
I paused before the cage of a big brute of a dog. Grey wiry hair, drooping eyes. Ugly, but kind of cute at the same time. I kneeled. “Hey, boy.”
The dog lunged, snarling at the wire door. I scrambled backward, falling into the puddles of water on the cement floor. At least I hoped it was water. I resisted the urge to smell my hand and got to my feet. “Guess I won’t be taking you home. Good luck, buddy. With that attitude you’ll need it. Have you ever heard the term, dead dog walking?”
I turned the corner and
stopped suddenly in order not to run into Marilyn. “Are you following me?”
The corners of her mouth turned down. “Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know, you tell me.”
“I’m following your daughter.” Marilyn leaned closer and lowered her voice. “My boss said she’s been in some trouble lately and, well. . .”
“You think she’s going to steal a dog that’s locked in a cage?” I spun on my heel and marched away. A whine at the end of the aisle caught my attention.
A majestic German Shepherd star
ed straight ahead. Her ears perked when I stopped before the cage. The sign above the door identified her as one-year-old Cleopatra. Her tail thumped the floor when I squatted beside the cage. “You are beautiful. I bet you’d make a real good watch dog, wouldn’t you?” I stood. “Hey, Marilyn! I want Cleopatra. What’s a purebred doing at the pound?”
“The owners said they had to move and couldn’t take her with them.”
Marilyn unhooked a key from around her neck. “She must like you. She barks at everyone else. I think that’s the real reason she was brought in. Barkers don’t find homes very easily. Do you have a leash?”
“No.”
“Dog food? Dishes?” She frowned at me. “Are you at all prepared to take in a pet?”
“I have a fenced yard and can buy the rest.” I wasn’t completely incompetent.
She rolled her eyes. “We’ll lend you a leash, but you’ll have to return it.”
I grinned. “I’ll have Lindsey run i
t by your house tomorrow.”
Marilyn thrust a tattered strip of vinyl into my hands, banged the door open, and turned away. “Take her up front to pay your adoption fee.”
Cleo sat docilely while I hooked the leash on her and then trotted beside me toward the front of the building. If I was half as regal as the dog or carried myself as well, life would be much better for me, I felt certain.
As I waited in line, I perused the bulletin board of animals for sale. Funny. Why would the animal shelter post ads for other people wanting to s
ell their dogs and cats? The word Chihuahua caught my attention. Someone posted an ad for the tiny Mexican puppies. I grabbed a pen from the counter and wrote the number on my hand. If it were the same ones stolen from Gloria, I’d be a step further in the investigation than Bruce.
“Mom, can we get a cat?” Lindsey appeared at my elbow.
“Not unless you want our new fierce protector to eat it.”
“She doesn’t look so bad to me.” Lindsey wrapped her arms around Cleo’s neck and buried her face in her fur. Cleo licked her face then turned back to me. I couldn’t help but feel superior
to the unknown faces Marilyn mentioned the dog not liking. She seemed to like us. Animals were supposed to be great judges of character, right?
After becoming the proud owner of Cleopatra, we stopped by the giant pet supply store and headed home.
Cleo took possession of the back seat and hung her head on the arm rest between the two front seats. An instant best friend.
I sat at the kitchen table with my suspect list in front of me and Cleo lying at my feet. Lynn called
precisely at five o’clock. I’d have been surprised with anything else from my A-type personality friend.
“Hey, Lynn, talk to me.”
“There’s a lot of stuff going around the teacher’s lounge at the high school.” Her words sound garbled, like she was eating.
“Like what?” I picked up my pencil.
“Lot’s of things disappearing. Nothing like Sharon’s necklace, though. Small things. Worth a couple of hundred dollars each or such.” She paused for a moment. “Sorry, took a drink. Here’s the funny thing. . .no one seems to remember anything. One moment they have something in their possession, the next they don’t. Like they were sleeping or something. And it’s happening at home. Not here at school. It’s almost like there’s an epidemic of forgetfulness assaulting the town.”
I gnawed the end of my pencil, thinking back to the day when we’d discovered the money missing out of the store cash register. “Gloria Simpson said it felt like she’d been in a fog all day. What do you think it means?”
“I don’t know.”
“Huh.
” She usually knew everything.
“Okay, change of subject.
” Lynn sighed. “Tell me what’s bothering you and maybe I can point you in the right direction.”
What wasn’t bothering me? “Duane, Lindsey, an intruder in my house last night.” L
ynn gasped at that one. “I’ve bought a dog as a security measure, and I’m getting a Tazer, but I’m not feeling very secure right now.”
“Did the intruder threaten you?”
“No, I think they laughed at me.”
“Laugh
ed?”
“Well, I was kind of stuck. I’d caught my hair in the phone cord.” I closed my eyes, envisioning Lynn face alight with humor.
“Only you, Marsha.”
“Considering I could have been killed last night, that’s real fun
ny.”
“
We are cranky, aren’t we?”
“Ha ha.” I leaned down and scratched behind Cleo’s ears.
“I think I have reason to be. Plus, I don’t know what to do about Duane. I think I still have feelings for him. But there’s a lot to get over.” Too much to dwell on right now. Unforgiveness and past hurts. “Plus, I’ve got to solve this case before Lindsey gets arrested for something she didn’t do.
“Or something worse happens.
Like the intruder succeeding in killing someone.” I needed to devise a plan to see who our Clinton impersonator was.