Jurassic Dark, page 12
“Stop, Harley!” I called. “There’s no place to run!”
I was right. There was no place to run, at least not for a sedentary internet-addicted alien writer. Out of breath, I cornered him between the Goodnight UFOs back door and the dumpster. He clutched the large sack to his chest.
“Go away or you’ll get it,” Harley threatened.
“Get what?”
“Very funny. Don’t mess with me.”
“What’s in the sack, Harley?”
“I’m not going to tell you,” he said, like he was a teenager caught cheating on his chemistry midterm.
“I know what it is. It’s proof of your crimes. You’re going to jail for a long time.”
He took a step forward. “You’ll never take me!” he yelled. He crouched down in a martial arts pose, as if he was going to attack me. But I was prepared for this. Harley was one of my suspects, and I feared that something like this would happen.
I fished in my purse and took out a sleeve of Ritz crackers that I had carried for just this moment.
Harley took a step back. “What’s that?”
“You know what it is. It’s your worst nightmare!” I yelled.
I opened the package to take out a cracker, in order to curtail Harley long enough for me to call Amos to come and arrest him. But inside the wax paper sleeve, the crackers had turned to dust, crushed inside my large purse.
“Uh oh,” I said, holding a handful of crumbs. “Back away from me!” I ordered.
He laughed. “You think I’m scared of crumbs? What do you think I am? Some kind of freak?”
It was exactly what I thought he was, but I guessed he wasn’t as much of a freak as I thought. He approached me in a threatening stance, and I retreated. I fumbled in my purse for my phone, but he slapped it out of my hand.
Harley was bigger and stronger than I was, but I had much better cardio. At least when I was terrified. I turned on my heel and ran back to the Plaza as fast as I could.
“Help!” I screamed, as I ran. “Help me, Richard Gere Memorial supporters! For the love of Richard Gere, help me!”
About a dozen women of all ages and sizes came running from all over the Plaza. Half of them were carrying paint cans, and all of them were hell-bent on helping me “for the love of Richard Gere.”
Harley didn’t notice the women until it was too late for him. The women were ruthless. They reached Harley and threw their paint on him. He slipped in the paint and went down hard. The women surrounded him.
“How dare you?” one of the women shouted at Harley. “This is Richard Gere, New Mexico. We don’t take shit from nobody!”
The women cheered, and Amos and Adam drove up in their Sheriff SUVs. Adam handcuffed Harley, and Amos looked in his sack, taking out objects.
“Those things come from Goodnight UFOs,” I told them. “He must have ransacked the shop.”
“What the hell’s happening?” Mabel demanded. “Is he trying to sabotage tomorrow’s event?”
“No, he tried to kill Norton,” Klee said. “He’s been caught red-handed.”
There was a murmuring among the women, and Amos quieted them down. “He wasn’t caught red-handed. For now, we just know that he’s a thief. I’ll bring him to the station, and we’ll get to the bottom of this. And then we can talk about who vandalized the town signs.”
The women were energized by the takedown of the criminal in the name of Richard Gere, and they didn’t seem worried at all that they might be arrested for vandalism and graffiti. My initial certainty that I had caught the killer faded, and I was left with more questions than answers.
If Harley was responsible for ransacking the shop yesterday, why was he skulking around town with the goods today? The women got back to work, changing Goodnight to Richard Gere. I went back to the Goodnight UFOs parking lot to fetch my phone.
As I picked it up, I noticed movement by the back door. I looked up with a start and saw Faye watching me. “Holy crap,” I breathed and gave her a hug. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “How’s Norton?” she asked.
“Stable. They operated, and his wound is healing, but he’s still in a coma.”
Faye’s eyes filled with tears. “Poor Norton. Why does this keep happening?”
I told her about my suspicions about JoBeth, Harley, and Gregor.
“But Faye, I need more information in order to find the truth about what happened,” I told her gently.
“I’ve never had any secrets, Matilda. I’m a very open person.”
I took her hands. “I saw something in the shop about your money.”
“What about my money?”
“I didn’t know you had a lot of money,” I started.
“Oh, that. It’s nice to have, but I don’t spend a lot. There’s the shop. That cost a pretty penny. And Norton and I went on the Disney Cruise a couple years back. But beyond that, our needs are pretty simple. I don’t spend a lot.”
“I heard that you come from people with modest means,” I said, trying to get her to talk without me being overly direct and prying into her private life.
“My folks survived on beans and cornbread until they were twelve years old,” she explained. “After that, they had their share of milk and eggs, but they only went to Shakey’s Pizza once a month. There weren’t a lot of extras in my family. That’s for sure. It’s the same with Norton. He says that’s why he eats so much now. He says it’s to make up for lean times.”
Faye studied my face for a moment. “What’re you getting at? Why are we talking about my family?”
I didn’t want to ask her any more questions. I didn’t want her to think that I suspected her. But objectively, she was the number one suspect, even though I suspected at least four other people, and I couldn’t picture my sweet friend harming her beloved husband.
“So this thing I found about your money,” I started. “It was an email.”
Faye’s face dropped, and it turned a light shade of red. “I don’t know who sends me those emails, but I swear to you that they’re total lies. I got that money fair and square, Matilda. I didn’t lie, cheat, or steal to get it.”
“Did you win the lottery?” I guessed.
“No. It was crazier than that.”
“Did you find it? Was it buried somewhere, or did you find it on a construction site?” I asked.
Faye frowned. “Do you think I would do something like that? If I found money on a work site, I would turn it in. You should know that.”
I gave her a quick hug. “I do know that. You’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever known.”
Faye smiled, and I knew that she forgave me for suspecting her of being less than honest. “The story is innocent enough,” she said. “I inherited it. Not from my family. I used to live in Pueblo, Colorado. I was a contractor there, just like I am here in Goodnight. Anyway, I got a job to renovate a beautiful Victorian owned by an older lady named Teresa Hyde.
“We got along like a house on fire,” Faye continued. “And soon after I finished, Teresa died of a massive stroke. Matilda, I almost dropped dead myself from pure shock when I got a call from her attorney, telling me that she made me her sole heir. Millions of dollars. Can you believe it?”
“Yes,” I said, truthfully. It was a simple answer and something I had never considered. “So the emails were from someone who was jealous of you.”
Faye shrugged. “I’ve given up trying to find out who’s sending them to me. Although, I suspect it’s actually two people. Two cousins who’ve got it in for me because I wouldn’t give them the money to buy a Taco Bell franchise. I felt bad about it, but my cousins are definitely not business-minded, and you wouldn’t believe how expensive Taco Bell franchises are.”
My stomach growled. I was ready for lunch. I wished Faye could go to lunch with me.
“Are you any closer to finding out who stabbed Norton?” Faye asked me.
“I think so,” I said.
Actually, I had no shortage of suspects, but I was partial to JoBeth. But I didn’t have an ounce of proof about the guilt of any of my suspects, and I didn’t want to dash Faye’s hopes.
“What happened with your first husband?” I asked her.
“I don’t like to talk about that.”
“I need to know all the facts if I’m going to get to the truth about Norton,” I said, softly.
Faye nodded. “It happened almost exactly like it happened with Norton, but we were camping in the Basin on the New Mexico side of the border with Colorado. I fell asleep in the tent, and when I woke up, he was stabbed in the chest next to me. Dead.”
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
“State police investigated, but they never suspected me because a few other campers nearby said they had seen someone lurking around that night. After my husband died, I moved away from Colorado and came here.”
“They never figured out who the killer was?” I asked.
Faye shook her head. “No. That was five years ago. I’ve tried to forget about it ever since.”
It was a hell of a coincidence to have two husbands killed in the same way, but I didn’t detect any part of a killer in Faye. Any remnant of my doubt was removed. I asked Faye to tell me exactly where the camping site was, and she made me a little map on my reporter’s notebook for me.
“Okay. I’ll go back to my hidey-hole,” Faye said. “I just returned to town to get more supplies.”
There was a noise behind me, and I turned. One of the Richard Gere women was eyeing a store’s sign with a paintbrush in her hand. When I turned back to Faye, she had vanished.
I was no closer to finding the killer, but I was relieved to know that Faye was the woman I thought she was and that I didn’t have to doubt her.
Chapter 12
Exhausted and hungry, I walked across the Plaza to Goodnight Diner. There was no sign of Richard Gere activity anywhere except for the name changes they had left in their wake. The women must have gone on break, but nearly half of all of the Plaza establishments had gotten a name change.
Adele, however, had managed to fight back Mabel and Klee, and her Goodnight Diner sign remained untouched. Inside, the lunch crowd had dispersed, and Silas was the only one sitting and eating. I slipped into his booth and sat across from him.
“Didn’t you just eat a burrito?” I asked him.
“I’m carbo loading. Between the serial killer, Norton’s knife attack, Faye on the lam, and now the town changing its name to Richard Gere—God help us—I needed sustenance. Does that bother you, boss?”
“Not at all. I’m with you.”
Adele came to the table and handed me a menu. “Morris made Fish Surprise that’s top-notch,” she suggested.
“Fish Surprise?” I asked. “What’s the surprise?”
“The surprise is that there’s no fish in it,” Adele explained. “But it’s good, and it comes with French fries.”
“Sold,” I said, handing her back the menu.
Silas shoveled mashed potatoes into his mouth. “What’re you doing about the Richard Gere thing?” he asked me.
“I was planning on running away to Brazil.”
“That’s a long trip.”
“You think it’s far enough away to avoid Mabel’s wrath?” I asked.
Silas shook his head. “Not a chance in hell, boss.”
“What’s happening with the profiler report from the FBI? Are you any closer to getting that?” I asked.
“No, but I can tell you what it’s going to say. It’s a loner white guy, twenty to thirty years old.”
“Why do you think that?” I asked.
“Hunch. How about you? What’s your hunch on the Norton thing? You think that Faye got pissed off?”
“No. I think it was JoBeth,” I said.
“The leggy woman from the East? She does look dangerous. I wouldn’t mind getting a piece of that kind of danger,” Silas said, staring off into space, as if he was imagining JoBeth’s piece.
Blech. I wished she wasn’t attractive. It would have made me a lot more relaxed. My fish surprise arrived, and Christine walked into the diner with Charles. I was surprised when they sat at the same table together.
“Holy crap, boss,” Silas told me. “Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. What’s the skinny on those two? You know something I don’t know?”
“Charles is a photographer who came into town with JoBeth and her assistant,” I explained. “Christine is a mysterious woman who was all over Norton and fought with Faye the night he died.”
Silas stopped chewing for a moment, and we stared at the couple. “They sort of go together,” Silas said. “Good looking. Well dressed.”
“I wish I knew more about her.”
“I’m pretty sure she’s not wearing underwear,” Silas said. “Does that help?”
“Not really.”
Silas finished his lunch and headed back to the Gazette. I continued eating and spying on Christine and Charles. I tried to listen in, but as far as I could tell, they were just flirting.
“Fancy meeting you here.” Boone slipped into the booth across from me. “Does this count as one of our diner dinners?”
“No. It’s lunch, and I’m already half done.”
“Damn it. This wooing thing is tough.”
“Haven’t you wooed a woman before?” I asked.
“That depends. Do you consider two wine coolers and ‘Hey baby, meet me behind the gym’ wooing?”
“Geez. You don’t just need help. You need to be de-programmed like you’re in the Moonies or something,” I said.
Boone gestured toward Christine. “Looks like your biggest fan found a friend.”
“I’m dying to talk to her, but it wouldn’t be wise when she’s so close to sharp cutlery.”
Boone stared at my face so intently that I was sure I had some fish surprise on my cheek. I wiped at my face with a napkin. “What’s wrong?” I asked him when he continued to stare. “Do I have something between my teeth or something sticking out of my nose?”
“I was just admiring your beauty.”
I grew warm and melty, and with only a little encouragement, I would have jumped over the table and sucked Boone’s entire head into my mouth. I was so horny, I was going bonkers. It had been a long time since I had done the nasty. Why was I insisting on being wooed? Did it matter if I had bad taste in men? Did I really need to make sure Boone was all right before I jumped into the sack with him? So what if Boone turned out to be a killer loser who tried to put me in an institution like my husband did?
“If you keep looking at me like that, we might need birth control right here at the table,” Boone told me. “Oh, shit!” he exclaimed and ducked his head under the table.
“What’s happening?” I asked. “Is this the birth control moment? Do you think you should do this right here in the diner?”
“I’m not hitting on you,” Boone said from under the table. “I’m hiding.”
“Why?”
He tugged on my leg, and I ducked my head under the table, too. “What’s going on?”
“It’s JoBeth,” he hissed. “I’ve been avoiding her all day. I went ahead and canceled the press conference on my own. She’s bound to find out, and I don’t want to be around when she does.”
“So, we’re hiding from JoBeth? She’s my number one suspect. I’ve been trying to find her to put her under the light.”
“Under what light?” Boone asked.
“You know, the light the cops shine on the criminals so they talk,” I explained.
“Oh. Why is she your number one suspect? She didn’t even know who Norton was. This is her first visit to Goodnight.”
I pointed at him. “That’s what she claims, but I heard her today talking about Norton, and she also talked about drugs.”
“Where was this? Did you ask her about it?”
“No, I was in a wall at the time.”
“You heard her talk about drugs in a wall?” Boone asked.
“You’re missing the point, as usual. Drugs. Norton. JoBeth.”
“I’m pretty sure she’s a Republican. When she said ‘drugs,’ maybe she was talking about Tylenol.”
“Are you defending her?” I asked. “Because that wouldn’t be good for the wooing thing,” I said.
“Fine. Let’s stop hiding. I’m not used to bending like this. I’ve never taken yoga. I think I’ve cut off the circulation to the bottom half of my body. If we stay under the table any longer, I’m going to get gangrene.”
When we got out from under the table, Adele was standing over us. “I’m all for romance,” she said. “But this is a family establishment.”
Through the window, I saw JoBeth walking outside. “There she is,” I announced. “Let’s get her.”
I jumped out of the booth and grabbed Boone’s hand, pulling him out. “I don’t want to get her,” he said.
“Don’t be a pussy.”
We ran out of the diner, but by the time we got outside, JoBeth had gotten into a car with someone and driven away. “Hurry. Get into my car,” I told Boone.
I unlocked the car and opened my door, just as Mabel appeared out of nowhere. She was holding a clipboard and a pen. “Hey Matilda, does Richard prefer a coffin, or does he want to be cremated? If he wants to be cremated, I can get him a beautiful urn, and I suppose we could still bury it in the center of the Plaza.”
“You lost me,” I told Mabel.
“Richard Gere. How does he want to be buried? What are his plans for death? Obviously, since we have the sculpture, and we’re changing the name of the town, he’ll want to be buried here.”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“But you’ll find out, right? We should know by tomorrow so we can present him with our plans for his demise.”
“I’ll ask him when I talk to him again,” I lied and got into my car as fast as I could next to Boone. I locked the doors. “I think Mabel has had a cerebral hemorrhage or something,” I told him.
“She’s always been like that,” Boone said. “One year she decided to change the town’s name to Disneyland. That was quite a lawsuit.”
“Do you think this will blow over?”
“Or blow up.”
“Does it bother you that she wants to change the name of the town when it’s your family’s name?” I asked him.
