her place to fill out more paperwork. I stepped between them, and he took the opportunity to dash away.
“Honey! I was making a love connection.”
“He looked scared.”
“Humph. What do you want?”
“I’ve had enough. I’m going home. Tell me what you know.”
“But the night isn’t done yet! There’s still four more rotations to go.”
I scanned the room. “Have you looked around? You put too many candles on each table, and it’s melting the color right off their faces. Anyone who hasn’t left in shame is either paired up already or not gonna be. It’s time to call it a night.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Fine, but do you have to turn everything into a negative?”
“Sorry,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m
To my surprise, she laughed. “You’re a piece of work, Mira James. And for that, I’ll give you a twofer. The first one: you know the drifter who pelted Sarah with tomatoes today?”
“Yeah, I was there. He’s got a good arm.”
“And I think he deserves a medal, but that’s beside the point. He was released today because Sarah didn’t want to press charges as long as he left Battle Lake immediately. He was driven to the county line this afternoon.”
“What is this,
She ignored me. “As to the murder investigation, like I was saying earlier, evidence has been recovered from the scene. A couple medium, light brown hairs were found in Webber’s fist and a faint but muddy shoe print that doesn’t belong to him was also discovered.”
My throat swelled until I remembered that my shoes hadn’t been muddy. Or had they? “Light brown and not dark brown?”
Kennie studied me. “Definitely not dark brown.”
“Sarah Glokkmann has medium length, light brown hair.”
“I know!” Kennie clapped her hands in glee.
“So, the police know whose hairs and footprint they are?”
“They have a couple guesses. How fast this moves depends on whether those people willingly give up DNA samples.”
“You’ll tell me when you find out?”
“We’ll see.”
I knew that was all I was going to get from her, and it was more than I’d expected. “You know, Kennie, you’re not all bad.”
She winked. “Just bad enough.”
We said our goodbyes and I was about to write this night off as “not as atrocious as it could have been” when I ran smack dab into Deputy Gary Wohnt.
17
“Kennie Rogers still here?” He growled.
I pointed behind me to where Kennie was dancing seductively and alone to Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me.” She didn’t appear to have any takers.
He nodded his acknowledgment. And he still wore the mirrored shades.
“You ever wonder what the world looks like without those glasses on?” I asked.
And immediately regretted my smart aleck words as he slid the sunglasses off and pinned me to the wall with his black and bottomless eyes. I tried not to let on that my knees had gone wobbly, but it was hard. If he was a superhero, Gary Wohnt would be the Black-eyed Truthinator. “I stole Twinkies from John Fuch’s lunch box in first grade, but only because my mom wouldn’t buy me any and I’ve never stolen anything since.”
Did his eyes twinkle, or were they merely catching the reflection of the disco ball swirling at the center of the room? “You give any more thought to your whereabouts the night of the murder, or more specifically, the morning the cleaning woman discovered the body of Bob Webber?”
I steeled myself. I was a champion liar. I could keep a secret better than the ocean. But what was it about those eyes that delved into my soul? I exhaled noisily. Might as well face the music now, when I had a facade of control over the outcome. “Look, I was at the motel that night. I heard the maid scream the next morning, and I ran in to see if she needed help. She had called 911, confirmed that Webber was dead, and told me there was nothing for me to do. I didn’t touch anything. Lord knows I don’t need to be found next to any more dead bodies, so I left.”
“Is that all?”
I knew he wanted me to finger Mrs. Berns and her boy toy, but I wouldn’t do it. My personal resolve may be periodically weak, but when it came to protecting my friends, I was Fort Knox. I tried throwing him off the trail. “I slept with Johnny Leeson the night before, if that’s what you want to know.”
He blinked rapidly for a moment, but it was enough to break the laser spell of his gaze. “I know.”
“Then you know what I know. Is there anything else?”
“I’ll be in touch,” he said gruffly, sliding his glasses back on as he walked toward Kennie, who was now illustrating to the dwindling audience her take on the quickest way to bring Sexy Back.
I drew a deep breath and scurried out while the scurrying was good.
I woke the next morning finally beginning to feel normal again. I’d gotten sufficient sleep two nights in a row, and my stomach was back in the game. I spent some quality downtime with my plants and animals before cruising to Alexandria to pick up Mrs. Berns. She was so anxious to escape the hospital that she was waiting curbside in a wheelchair when I arrived.
“I told you I’d be here by 10 o’clock.”
“Pah. I knew you’d be early. Help me get on these sticks and load up my bags.” She had a pair of old-fashioned wooden crutches strapped to the back of the wheelchair and a suitcase next to her.
“Wouldn’t a wheelchair be more manageable?”
“I’d sooner have a colostomy bag,” she said. “People see you in a wheelchair, they think you’re weak. They take advantage of you.”
I unstrapped them and held them out to her. She looked bruised and tiny in the wheelchair, but her eyes were as fiery as ever. “And on crutches?”
Almost before my sentence was out of my mouth, she’d snatched a crutch out of my hand and swung it in a whipsnake arch. I ducked to avoid getting whacked.
“Point taken,” I said. I eased her into the car where she stayed while I made a quick run to Freda’s room for my promised visit. I made sure she had what she needed and gave her my word that I’d be back again soon.
The drive back to Battle Lake was pleasant, a last explosion of red, gold, and orange before the white fist of winter clamped down on the landscape. The air smelled like change, the turn of the wheel that leads to dormancy, cold, and rest. But we weren’t there yet. Today was about unseasonable warmth, the scent of brown leaves cooking in the sun, and maple trees so brightly colored that they sang. While I navigated the road, I filled Mrs. Berns in on what I’d learned, minus any mention of her fiance’s bad behavior or her son visiting me at the library. I didn’t want to cause her unnecessary stress. We both agreed that the hairs found in the room were a good sign unless Glenn Vanderbrick or any of his guests also had long, sandy-brown hair. I assumed the police had already
