Snow Way Out (20 page)

“I’ll let you go, but I wanted you to know that I thought it was a nice service today, and I hope my rushing off like that didn’t cause too much commotion.”

“That’s okay. Lauren thought maybe it was a boyfriend you’d had a spat with and were trying to work things out.”

“It was something like that. Good night, Pam.”

“’Night.”

I hung up with new information. Jerrell had been an only child and may or may not have had cousins. Say he’d had a cousin who looked just like him. Why would that person show up in Brooks Landing? To pick up where Jerrell left off, committing crimes and taking advantage of a woman like Pamela?

After another look at Jerrell sporting the Buddy Holly glasses, I focused on Benjamin Arnold’s mug shot. I’d seen those few pictures of him when he was younger and a little thinner. The guy at the halfway house had said he’d lost weight because he didn’t like the food there. I sat back down at the table and when I picked up Arnold’s photo there was a penny underneath it.
Where did that come from?
I raised my eyes heavenward.

I’m not sure what gave me the idea, but I sat down with my Sharpie pen and started working. I drew a line down each of Arnold’s cheeks to cut out some of the fullness. Then I shaded his hair, dotted in some facial hair, and added the Buddy Holly glasses. The likeness to the lanky guy was striking and had me out of my chair and on my feet in a flash. When my cell phone rang, I think my whole body lifted from the ground.

“Hello?”

“Cam—uh—ryn, it’s Clint.”

“Oh, Clint, where are you?”

“Why do you ask?”

I looked down at my sketch. “Do you mind stopping by my house, or are you tied up with something?”

“No, I can come over. Are you okay?” Clint sounded concerned.

“I’m okay, but hurry.”

Good timing, Assistant Chief Lonsbury. What would he say when he saw the alterations I’d made to Arnold’s picture? I considered brewing a small pot of coffee, but then I’d have to contend with loud drinking noises making it hard for me to concentrate. Clint arrived five or six minutes later.

I opened the door to a serious, almost brooding assistant chief in blue jeans and a quilted flannel jacket. “Thanks for coming. I have something to show you.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, come into the kitchen.”

He followed me and watched when I pointed at the newspaper photos of Powers and Arnold. He picked up the one of Powers and stared at it.

“That’s why the tall, lanky guy looks so familiar to me. He could be Jerrell Powers’s twin,” I said.

Clint frowned. “According to his records, he’s an only child.”

“Pamela Hemley just told me that.” I picked up Arnold’s photo and handed it to him. “Check this out.”

“My God. He looks just like Jerrell Powers.”

“I’d be willing to bet he is the elusive bike rider I keep seeing.”

Clint turned to me. “Are you saying you think Benjamin Arnold has been hiding right under our noses the whole time?”

“I don’t know about the whole time. The first time I saw his face was Tuesday night at Sherman’s Bar and Grill. If he was the one who crashed in the back alley here, then he’s been here since at least Monday.”

Clint nodded. “My prime suspect. The thing that doesn’t wash is why he’s still hanging around town now that the dirty work has been done. Or why he altered his appearance to look like the man he killed.”

“It doesn’t make sense to me, either. Part of it just happened when he lost weight. They have similar features. How tall is Benjamin Arnold?”

“Six-one.”

“And Jerrell Powers?”

“Six-one.”

“That fits. And I’d say that is about the height of the tall, lanky rider.” I took a quick breath. “And something happened again today.”

Clint narrowed his eyes on me. “Yes, that’s why I called you in the first place. I was out on interviews all day and I’d just read the report from my staff when I got back to the office. So let me ask you, first, what in tarnation were you doing at Jerrell Powers’s burial service? And second, why would you pursue someone who may be armed and dangerous?”

I hadn’t considered the armed and dangerous part. “To answer your first question, I felt sorry for Pamela not having much support. I know Jerrell was a scoundrel, but she loved him anyway. And the second question . . . well, maybe I shouldn’t have followed him, but I thought he might live in the area and we could find out who he was.”

When Clint put his hands on my shoulders and held them firmly, I felt like I had as a little girl the few times I’d been really naughty and my dad had done the same thing. “Camryn, we’ve been through this before. Leave police business to the professionals who know what they are doing and are equipped to deal with all kinds of situations that may arise. You can’t run willy-nilly after this unknown person. What if he had turned and come after you?”

“I didn’t exactly run willy-nilly, whatever that means. I can’t even run regularly very well, if you really must know. And if he’d come after me, and seemed threatening, I’d have given him a shot of Mace in his face.”

He jerked his head. “Mace? You mean pepper spray?”

The friend in Washington who’d given it to me called it Mace. “Yes.”

“Are you trained to use that?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, have you taken a self-defense class?”

I shook my head. I didn’t know there were classes that taught Mace-spraying techniques.

“Then have you at least given yourself a little shot to see what would happen, how you would react if you accidentally got a blast of it when you were aiming at someone else? Like if the nozzle got turned the other way, or if the wind blew it back in your face?”

“Um, well, no.”

“I’d recommend it, if you’ve got someone around to help you in case you have a bad reaction. The next time we have defense training for our officers it might be a good idea for you to sit in. At the PD we use Freeze Plus P. Nasty stuff, but if you get a dose of it, you’ve got to be able to work through it with your skin burning, your eyes burning and impossible to keep open, and your nose running.”

“Okay.” Life was humbling at times.

“And don’t be experimenting when you’re all alone. Some people have a negative respiratory reaction and have trouble breathing.”

Very humbling. Maybe I would consider using other self-defense methods instead. Brooks Landing Community Education offered karate classes.

“Getting back to the possibility that Ben Arnold may be in town, I’m going to issue an all-points bulletin alerting both the city and the county. Can I take your newspaper drawings?”

I nodded.

“If this is the way he looks, I’ll ask Buffalo County to generate a computer sketch we can circulate. And this saves you a trip over there to work with their artist. Now that we know who we are most likely looking for, it shouldn’t take long to flush him out.”

“If I didn’t scare him away this afternoon,” I said.

“There is that possibility. Since he’s usually traveling by bike, there’s a strong chance he doesn’t have a car. I’ll contact the surrounding counties and ask them to be on the lookout for him. In the meantime, are you remembering to keep your doors locked?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He glanced at his watch. “And if you see him again, what is the first thing you’re going to do?”

“Call the police station?”

“Dial nine-one-one, and then call me pronto after that.”

“Okay.” I certainly planned to do as Clint ordered but would soon discover the true meaning behind that phrase regarding “the best-laid plans.”

• • • • • • • • • • • •

T
wo days later, on Monday morning, my three new party-planning friends came into the coffee shop, and then poked their heads in Curio Finds.

“Camryn, hi!” Tara’s voice startled me.

I turned and smiled at the women. “Good morning.”

“We can hardly wait for the party Friday night.”

“Did you decide if you’re wearing a costume? It’s perfectly all right if you don’t,” Heather said.

“Yes, I think that would be fun. It’s been a while.”

“Oh, good. And do you need a ride?” Emily asked.

“No, that’s not necessary, but I do need the address and a phone number.”

Tara looked at Heather. “Oh, my gosh, did you forget to send her an invitation?”

“I’m so sorry. I thought you said you were going to drop it off for her here.”

Tara hit her forehead with the heel of her hand. “I totally spaced out on that. I am sooo sorry, Camryn. I’ll run right home and get you a copy.”

“No, really, you don’t have to make a special trip. Anytime before Friday is fine.”

“Okay, we’ll bring it by tomorrow after our workout. I’m so embarrassed we forgot to get that to you.”

“Not to worry.” My shop phone rang. “Excuse me. See you girls tomorrow.”

They all waved and said thanks for the umpteenth time.

• • • • • • • • • • • •

E
rin stopped in at the coffee shop after school, then she and Pinky marched in to Curio Finds looking as stern as I’d ever seen either of them.

“What’s going on?” I said.

“That’s what we’d like to know,” Erin said.

“What did I do this time?”

“You went to Jerrell Powers’s burial service. I mean really, Cami,” Pinky said.

“You have been doing the craziest things. Besides that, you accepted an invitation to a party with people you don’t know, you go running after strange men—”

“Erin, that might not be so crazy after all. We keep hearing how we’re not getting any younger,” Pinky said.

Erin reached over and gave her a mild slap on the arm. “It’s crazy behavior for Cami.”

“That’s true,” Pinky said.

“Getting back to the burial. What were you thinking?” Erin was tenacious at times, probably a plus in her chosen career.

“I wish people would quit tattling about every little thing I do.”

“Little?”
Erin said.

“I didn’t mean it like that. Okay, I went because I felt sorry for Pamela having no support from friends or family. I’m glad I went, for her. And her sister was there, too, and I know it took a lot for her to be there.”

“Lauren was probably glad to be there so she could say ‘good riddance,’” Erin said.

“Erin, I think you should be careful about what you say. The wrong person could get the wrong idea.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, about the knife.”

“Cami Brooks, I cannot believe you just said that. Take it back.” Erin took a step away from me and crossed her arms on her chest.

“Okay, that wasn’t very sensitive, but it’s true.”

“Like who are you talking about?”

“Like Clint. He’s investigating the murder. I think he’s talking to everyone who you listed as being at your house, thinking one of them stole your knife, so he can clear you. I don’t think it’s smart to keep spouting off about how you—or someone else, like Lauren—is glad Jerrell Powers is dead.”

Erin took in a loud breath through her nose then released it. She looked at Pinky. “What do you think, Pinky?”

Pinky shrugged. “Cami has a point. Why give anyone fuel for the fire? Until they find out who did it, it wouldn’t hurt for any of us to keep kind of a low profile.”

I raised my hands for their attention. “And what I wanted to tell you is there is a possibility that Benjamin Arnold is in town.”

“The guy who threatened Jerrell Powers at the halfway house?” Erin said.

“He’s the one. And the other possibility is that he’s the tall dark stranger who hides behind Buddy Holly glasses and keeps turning up here and there, including at the cemetery on Saturday. I ran after him before I knew who he might be.”

“Holy moly, Mark didn’t tell me that part,” Pinky said. I figured Mark had been her informant; he usually was. She took my hand and led me into her shop with Erin close behind. “We need to sit down and talk about this.”

We took chairs at a table and each of us looked at the other for a minute or two before Erin broke the silence. “That’s what I’m talking about, Cami. You have been doing the craziest things lately. No offense, but I think living in Washington did something to you.”

“You’re right, but let’s not get into that right now, or my seemingly unusual behavior. The police are on the lookout for Benjamin Arnold. Clint has alerted area police departments. Arnold may have taken off for parts unknown after I followed him. But Clint thinks he’ll turn up eventually.”

Pinky looked at Erin. “Did you notice Cami said Clint’s name twice in, like, three sentences?”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, brother.”

“This whole investigation can’t be over fast enough. I just want to get back to the way things were in our old, simple lives,” Erin said.

Pinky nodded. “I’m a little freaked out about Benjamin Arnold being in town. What would he be doing hanging around now, since Jerrell Powers is dead?”

We were quiet for a while, then Erin changed the subject. “Pinky tells me you insist on going to that Halloween party on Friday night.”

I had dug myself in too deep to get out of it. “I’m not sure about ‘insist.’”

“You know what I mean. Well, then, maybe you should take Clint with you.”

“Clint? You think he’d like dressing up as Marilyn Monroe’s leading man?”

“You’re wearing your Marilyn costume?” Erin said.

“Holy moly, can you imagine how Clint would look in a tuxedo? Really
scrumptious
eye candy.”

“Yes, I am going in costume, Erin. And Pinky, I was being a little sarcastic. I will not be asking Clinton Lonsbury to a Halloween costume party. You guys do not have to worry about me. I will muddle through somehow on my own, and I promise to keep my cell phone with me. If I feel uncomfortable in any way, I’ll lock myself in the bathroom and call for help.”

Pinky and Erin shook their heads at me. It seemed their silly arguments had dried up, a first for them.

M
y three new friends dropped the invitation off at the shop on Tuesday, which confirmed for me that I was committed to dress up as Marilyn Monroe, show up at the party, do my best to fit in, give my little presentation, and have fun, no matter what. I’d practiced walking around in the high heels in the evenings after work.

On Thursday, I had just gotten home when it struck me that I hadn’t locked the shop door. At least I couldn’t remember doing it. Pinky had left, and I knew I’d checked her machines, shut off her lights, and locked her door. I’d gone through all the normal closing-up procedures in Curio Finds, but whether I’d locked the door after I stepped outside was a blank. Too many things on my mind had distracted me, was all I could figure.

I drove back downtown and parked in my usual spot in back of the store out of habit. It would have been smarter to stop at the curb in front of the store. Much smarter, as it turned out. I headed down the dark walkway between our building and the next and almost reached the sidewalk on Central Avenue when a man dressed in black, from his hooded sweatshirt on down, rounded the corner of the shop building and ran smack into me. He grabbed my arms and held on tight. There was enough light from a streetlamp a half block away for me to realize in a split second it was the lanky guy I’d been seeing from a distance for over a week.

My hand was near my pocket and I moved it inside, ready to pull out the canister of Mace, then remembered I’d left it on my dresser at home. Jiminy Cricket, why had I let Clint put the fear of God into me about using the stuff until I’d been properly trained to do so? So what if I accidentally took a small hit of the spray? My attacker was bound to be more incapacitated if he got a full blast to the face.

“Help.”
My voice sounded like it did in bad dreams when I was in trouble: a barely choked-out whisper.

The lanky guy slid one arm behind my back and clamped the other over my mouth. “I’m not going to hurt you; I just need to talk to you. If you scream, I’ll have to go and won’t be able to do that. Are you going to scream?”

It took me a minute to decide whether I was being gullible or stupid. The Mace wasn’t in my pocket, but my keys were. If he tried anything funny, I’d jab him in the neck or face with them. I shook my head no. He slowly lifted his hand away, dropped his arm from my back, and took a step back. My legs had turned to mush and, rather than holding on to the lanky guy, I moved the two feet to the side of the building and leaned against it before I collapsed in a heap at his feet.

“I just stopped by your shop, but it was closed. I sure didn’t expect to run into you. You scared me as much as I must have scared you.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” My voice still hadn’t gotten up to full volume.

He looked up and down the walkway. “Is there somewhere we can go to talk?”

“Right here is fine.” Now that I’d figured out his identity, I was not about to go anywhere with him, never to be heard from again. At least standing where we were someone was bound to drive by and spot us eventually.

“You found Jerrell, and it looks to me like you’ve been doing some snooping around, trying to find out who killed him,” he said.

How was I supposed to respond to that? “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve seen you at Pamela’s house and when you followed your friends. You were even at the cemetery. After you ran after me, I knew it was time we talked.”

“Oh.”

“Do you have any idea who killed Jerrell?”

“No.”

“You’re looking at me like you’ve figured out who I am.”

I nodded. There was no reason to tell him a bunch of police departments knew it, too.

“They think I did it. The police.”

“Are you saying you didn’t?” The longer I stalled, the more likely it was we’d be discovered.

“I’d never kill my brother, or anyone else, either.”

Was that what halfway house residents called one another: “brother”? “Jerrell Powers was an only child. And from what I understand, so are you.”

“I can’t get into all that right now. I wanted to let one person know I’m not guilty of this crime. For once in my life. And I need to find out who killed Jerrell before I turn myself in. With my past, if they nab me, they’ll quit looking for the real murderer.” He turned his shadowed face and the streetlight gave the side of it a glow. “You seem pretty tight with a couple of the local police officers. They don’t have any other suspects yet?”

I shook my head.

“Okay.” With that, he turned and ran down the walkway toward where I’d parked. Maybe he’d left his bicycle there, or maybe he was staying at a rental property nearby and was on foot. I couldn’t go after him for all kinds of reasons, but the two main ones were Clint would have my hide and I was too scared.

How could I tell Clint and Mark what had happened without them blowing a gasket? The fact that Arnold had not harmed me should count for something. When I trusted my legs to carry me, I walked the few feet to the front of my shop and stopped. I had come back for a reason, and after recovering from the shock of being in the death grip of the Brooks Landing Police Department’s public enemy number one, it took me a full minute to remember what it was.

I checked the lock on my shop door. It was secure. I checked Pinky’s. Also secure. I checked mine again. Still secure. I had risked life and limb for nothing. But one thing had come out of the whole ordeal. Benjamin Arnold had told me he hadn’t killed Jerrell Powers and I believed him. I kept going back to the mysterious snow globes that had appeared and disappeared. One had depicted the murder scene; the other was a close match to what I’d seen on my stroll through the park when I met the police officer and saw the kids playing ball.

Pinky said she’d never seen the lanky guy in either shop. He would have had to have been in there at least four times to leave, then remove, the snow globes. With his criminal background, I had little doubt he could burgle his way in, but what would be the point?

The way he looked when he’d taken off, I didn’t think he’d be waiting for me, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I called Mark’s number and it went straight to voicemail. Was he trying to avoid me? I phoned Clint and he answered right away.

“You’re not going to like what just happened.”

“How about you spit it out, and I’ll decide.”

After I’d spit it out for him, he decided he did not like what had happened. In fact, his voice was raised to a near yell when he said, “Where are you?”

“In front of my shop. My car is in the back lot.”

“Go in the store, lock the door, and wait for me. I’ll get there as quick as I can.”

“Okay.” I did as Clint had said and left the overhead store lights off. There was decent light with the security one on, and I felt vulnerable enough the way it was. I didn’t want to make it any easier for someone to see me inside the store. I went to the back room and hung around there, looking at the boxes of extra merchandise and other things my parents were storing on the shelves.

Clint hadn’t said where he was when we talked, but I knew he lived a couple of miles from downtown in a country home on a few acres. If he was there it wouldn’t take long to get to the shop. I walked back to the main part of the shop with a box, set it down where I could see the front window from between the shelves, and sat on it. I thought about the fact that Benjamin Arnold had been watching me when I’d gone about my detective work. He’d seen me sitting in my car spying on Pam’s house, and doing the same at Erin’s.

He was right about being the police department’s number one suspect. It still made the most sense to me that he turn himself in to the police and let them sort it all out. Even if he was innocent of the murder, he was guilty of leaving without telling his probation officer where he’d gone to. And if he hadn’t come to Brooks Landing to kill Jerrell Powers as he had supposedly threatened to do, why had he come here?

I saw a Ford pickup pull up to the curb and park. Clint jumped out and was at my shop door by the time I stood up. He rapped loudly on the door like he was waking the dead. When I opened it, I had to admit I was relieved he was there. “I drove around the area, including your back parking lot, and there was no sign of him.”

“He acts like a ghost the way he disappears, but I can tell you after having his arms wrapped around me that he really is flesh and blood and strong muscles.”

Clint’s eyes narrowed and he stared at me for a full minute before he spoke. “I’m going to contact all the rental property owners downtown and see if I can find out where in the hell he’s hiding out. I’d run his picture in the local paper again, but it doesn’t come out until Tuesday. The bad part about having a weekly, instead of a daily, newspaper is when we need to get information out now.”

“I guess a lot of folks around here aren’t into social media, but you have that computer image of the picture I altered from the Buffalo County Sheriff’s Office. Maybe you could get more copies made and distribute them to local businesses and churches in the next couple of days. Someone is bound to have seen him and know where he’s staying.”

Clint came close to smiling. “You may have something there. I’ll get on that first thing in the morning.” His serious look returned. “Now tell me everything Arnold did and said to you, as close to word for word as you can remember.”

Even though I’d been in a state of intense fear for those few minutes, it seemed like my senses had actually been more acute than normal, and I gave him the entire play-by-play. When Arnold had put his hand over my mouth, the funny detail that came back to me was that it had smelled like soap. More on the antiseptic side, rather than aloe or pine or lavender. At least he had cleaned up before the visit.

Clint listened carefully, mostly maintaining a blank expression, but his eyebrows lifted and lowered a few times. “In any case, he hasn’t got me convinced. Arnold says he had nothing to do with Jerrell Powers’s murder, but he won’t come forward, turn himself in. That alone speaks more of his guilt than his innocence.”

There was no reason for me to defend Benjamin Arnold to Clint at that point. But there was an important thing Clint seemed to have put out of his mind: the murder weapon had come from Erin Vickerman’s house. At least, one that looked like hers that had gone missing. Clint was planning to talk to everyone Erin remembered being at her home in the past month. Pinky had discovered it was missing three or four weeks before. Benjamin Arnold and Jerrell Powers had both been inmates in the halfway house at that time. There was a fairly long list of potential suspects, but unless Arnold was in cahoots with one of the locals, it eliminated him from consideration based on that one piece of evidence alone, as far as I was concerned.

“Let’s get you to your car. I’ll follow you home and make sure you get in safely.”

• • • • • • • • • • • •

C
lint proved to be Johnny-on-the-spot running multiple copies of the cleaned-up version of the photo I had altered with the black Sharpie. When I got to work on Friday morning, a Brooks Landing police officer had already dropped two copies off and requested that Pinky and I hang them in our shops. Pinky was sitting on a chair behind her counter looking at it. “Morning, Cami. You know what? It’s kind of creepy, but this picture of Benjamin Arnold makes him look a lot like Jerrell Powers.”

“They do have a very similar look, that’s for sure. I have no idea why he’d dye his hair to make himself look like Jerrell Powers, of all people, but maybe he didn’t hate him as much as everyone thinks.”

“What do you mean?”

“Stay sitting while I tell you what happened last night.” But Pinky didn’t stay sitting. She jumped up and was on the other side of the counter halfway through my story.

“Cami Brooks, first of all you didn’t call when you found Jerrell Powers in the park. Okay, I can sort of get that because it was late at night. But then you get stopped and grabbed by the bad guy the police have been hunting for for two weeks, and you didn’t call. And it was early.”

“Pinky, as a matter of fact, I did call. First I phoned Mark, right after it happened. And then I tried both you and Erin when I got home. None of you answered. It seems like all three of you are avoiding me, and I can’t figure out why.”

Pinky’s eyes darted to the left. “Nooo, really?” She pulled her cell phone out of her pants pocket and looked at it. “Sorry, Cami, I don’t know how I missed the call.”

I gave her biceps a squeeze. “It’s okay, but now you know I tried to tell you last night. I’m sure Mark’s heard all about it by now, and Erin will, too, when school lets out.”

Pinky pulled on her headband and adjusted it. “Well, anyway, now that the police are circulating this picture, they’ll find Mr. Arnold before long, and you can feel safe again.”

I nodded and glanced up at Betty Boop. “Golly, it’s time to turn on my lights and open the door.”

Pinky handed me a copy of the picture. “They’re asking us to hang this up, either in our front window or in some prominent place in our store.” I didn’t want it in the window and chose to hang it on the front counter.

• • • • • • • • • • • •