Too Dead To Dance (21 page)

I asked, “How did you
know?”

“One of the ushers at Mass
saw you coming up from downstairs. He thought you had been down
there to see me. It didn’t take much to figure out what you’d been
up to. I’m very disappointed in you, Jennifer.”

“Oh, God, I’m sorry,
Bernie. I just wanted to help.”

“I know and it’s the only
reason that I’m still talking to you. But the Lieutenant is right.
You need to butt out and let the police do their job.”

“Thank you very much,
Sister Bernadine,” Jacobs said. “I couldn’t have said it better
myself.”

Totally embarrassed, I
stood up to leave. Jacobs held up a hand. “Wait a minute, Jennifer.
Just what were you looking for and what did you find in Sr.
Bernadine’s office?”

“That’s confidential,
Lieutenant Jacobs,” Bernie said. “It was none of Jennifer’s
business and it’s none of yours.”

“Does this information
relate to this case or anyone involved in it?”

Bernie stood up next to me.
“I can assure you, Lieutenant Jacobs, that Jennifer found no
pertinent information that you are not already aware
of.”

She bowed her veiled head
toward him then turned and walked out of the room. I followed her
but not before I saw Jacobs break out in a huge grin.

Along with being mortified
at being “outed” by my friend in front of the police, I was
disappointed to note that Detective Decker hadn’t shown up. I
thought I might have a chance to explain to him what Edwin had been
doing at my house last night.

Then I mentally slapped
myself. I didn’t owe Decker any explanations. Who did he think he
was to be upset by anything I did? I mentally jumped on my high
horse and rode off into the sunset.

Jacobs accompanied us to
the front desk. Bernie pulled opened the door and Detective Decker
walked in. I melted. He was so darn cute.

I was so tuned in to
Detective Decker that I didn’t notice that someone was with him.
Trailing behind him, head bowed was my about-to-be-ex-husband. How
nice.

“Edwin, what are you doing
here?”

“Ask your friend here. He
thinks I killed Marty and started the fire at your place last
night.”

Detective Decker turned and
put his hands on his hips. “As a matter of fact, Mr. Heinz, I asked
you to come in and talk to us about the events you witnessed
yesterday. But you have to admit, you’re in the middle of two
serious incidents.”

“Talk to my wife here.
She’s been at the same places I have.”

I jumped into the fray. “I
beg your pardon. Do you honestly think I set my own house on fire?
And don’t call me your wife.”

“Who knows what you might
do? You’ve been a little crazy lately.”

“Not so crazy that you
didn’t come running to me when you need a place to sleep. And how
did you get into my room last night? I know I locked that
door.”

Edwin flashed me a nasty
grin before he turned away from me and spoke to Detective Decker.
“Let’s get this over with. I have things to do.”

Detective Decker nodded his
head, and took Edwin by the arm. They turned and walked through the
door marked, “No Admittance” that we had just left. I was glad the
room smelled of urine. It would annoy Edwin and, if I was lucky,
might even start aggravating his allergies. I grabbed Bernie’s hand
and sashayed out the door.

Bernie and I stopped for
quick burgers at Chick’s Drive-In. While sitting in the car
munching on fries, I told Bernie about the conversation Megan and I
had with Lisa Vetter earlier in the day.

“What were you doing at the
Fest Grounds after everyone else left?” I asked.

“Oh, good Lord. Thank
goodness you didn’t mention that while we were at the Sheriff’s
Office. Jacobs would have put me in a cell.”

“So, what were you doing
there?”

“Why do you think it’s any
of your business, Jennifer? Have you forgotten already that you
promised Jacobs to butt out of his investigation?”

“I didn’t promise anyone
anything. I just listened to you two berate me for trying to keep
you out of jail!”

“You’re right.” Bernie’s
shoulder’s sagged and she looked me right in the eye.

“I was looking for Natalie
Younger.”

“Natalie? What on earth did
you want with her?”

“She called me. She was a
little drunk and got melancholy. I found her and drove her home.
She was crying about being single. She took care of her sick mother
for years, you know. She’s a very lonely woman, Jennifer. She never
had a husband or children and now she feels that life has passed
her by.”

“I never thought of her
that way, Bernie. I just think of her as a gossipy pain in the
rear.”

“She’s feeling desperate,
Jennifer. She wants what she thinks is a normal life. I’ve been
telling her for years that there are other worthy routes for women
to take besides marriage and family. Her job at the newspaper
office isn’t fulfilling for her, although I’ve never met anyone who
can proofread better than her.”

“So, what advise did you
give her?”

“None. You can’t reason
with someone who’s drunk. I just took her home and made her promise
to call me later.”

“Did she?” I
asked.

“No. And she probably won’t
until she’s feeling desperate again. I probably should call her but
this has been going on for years. I keep trying to get her to go
back to school and finish her degree, but she’s afraid. I think
maybe she’s comfortable in her rut. Or perhaps she still thinks
that her white knight will ride in and take her away from it
all.”

“Wow! I never
knew.”

“And you don’t know now,
Jennifer.” Bernie began wagging her finger at me again. “You keep
your mouth shut about this and about Sally. Just because you know
things doesn’t mean you have to tell anyone. Not even
Megan.”

“But Megan wouldn’t tell
anyone—”

“It doesn’t matter. You
just keep this to yourself.

“Okay,” I replied. “My lips
are sealed.”

I dropped off Bernie at the
church and decided to check out Oma’ Attic for the beer stein. I
pulled into the parking lot in front of the second-hand
store.

The building looked like it
was previously a fish and chips franchise. A new coat of red and
white paint spruced it up. I walked up the ramp and opened the
door, expecting to see clothing and Christmas ornaments. What a
surprise. Three neat book cases held second hand books of all
kinds, sorted by fiction and non-fiction then shelved by author’s
last name. I picked up a couple Denise Swanson mysteries that I
hadn’t yet read.

The rest of the store held
glass topped counters with a variety of objects in them. Each case
had its own theme. One held jewelry, another held glass figurines.
I found a case that appeared to hold things with a German theme:
clear glass beer mugs, German flags, a nutcracker, several
hand-blown glass Christmas ornaments.

A teenage girl bounced up
to me and said, “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I’m looking for a
beer stein. Do you have any?”

“Gee, I don’t know. What’s
a beer stein?”

Oh, boy. “It’s a mug with a
lid and it usually has some sort of scene on it. Here let me show
you a picture of the one I’m looking for.”

“Sure, fine,” she replied,
checking out the chipped polish on her nails.

I pulled the picture that
Laura had emailed me from my purse. “Do you have anything like this
here?”

“Naw, I don’t think so. But
you can look around if you want.”

I was surprised to find the
sales clerk so uninterested when it was clear that someone cared a
great deal about the display of the items for sale in the
store.

“Who is Oma?” I
asked.

“She’s my aunt. She had a
doctor’s appointment today and my mom made me work here until she
gets back.”

“Until who gets back? Your
aunt or your mother?”

“My aunt. What difference
does it make? Do you want to look around or not?”

“Not,” I said, setting the
books down as I turned to walk out.

Just as I reached out my
hand to open the door when it opened. I gave a surprised little
yelp.

The woman who walked
through the door wore her silver-white hair in a short bob. She
reached out her hand and touched my arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean
to startle you.”

“That’s okay I said, moving
around her to go through the door.

“Did you find what you were
looking for?”

I looked at her and
frowned. Why should she care, I thought?

She must have realized what
I was thinking. “This is my shop. Can I help you?”

“You’re Oma?” Except for
the hair color, she looked too young to be a
grandmother.

“Well, I’m somebody’s Oma.
I have three grandchildren. Yes, this is my store. What can I help
you find?” She shoved her purse under the counter and looked at me
expectantly.

“Here’s a picture of the
beer stein I’m looking for.”

“Isn’t that lovely. I wish
I had this stein here,” she said, handing the picture back to me.
“It would sell in a minute. But, no I don’t have any steins here
right now. I sold three of them last week, right before Polka Daze.
I always sell a lot of German items this time of year.”

I picked up the paperback
books I had abandoned and said, “I’ll take these.”

When I paid for my
purchases, I gave her my card and asked her to call me if she came
across the stein. She walked with me across the store and as she
opened the door for me she said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you
came. My niece isn’t very good at this but she was the only person
I could find on short notice.”

“She said you were at the
doctor’s office. Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Just had to
get a couple shots. My husband and I are going to Israel next
week.”

“What a delightful reason
to go to the doctor. Well, not the shots but a trip to Israel! I
hope you have a fantastic vacation.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m sure we
will.”

I walked back to my car
with my purse swinging at my side. Israel! What a great place to
visit. I had to put that on my “to-do-before-I-die” list. I tossed
my purse on the seat and began to back out of my space when I
glimpsed into the rearview mirror and saw movement.

I stomped on the brakes and
watched my purse fly off the seat and roll under the dash. I jumped
out and ran to the back of the car. There I found a run-away
shopping cart from the hardware store next to Oma’s. The wind must
have blown it across the parking lot. I moved it out of the way and
got back in my car and drove home. I forgot about my purse until I
pulled into my garage. When I looked down I saw the contents
spilled all over the floor mat. I scooped everything up and just
dumped back into my purse.

When I walked through the
kitchen door, I noticed that smoky smell was mostly gone so I
turned off the exhaust fans. Grabbing a basket, I threw some
clothes in it and headed to the laundry room.

Tossing my smoke smelling
laundry into the washer, I pulled off my sweater and threw it in
with the other clothes—it had a pickle stain on the front. I came
across the shirt I had worn the night Wes was killed. It needed
more than detergent.

Aiming the nozzle of the
stain remover at my shirt, I pressed the button. The can sputtered
and spit out a little glob of foam. Impatiently, I trudged to the
kitchen and looked under the sink for a new can.

The bright red can
should’ve been easy to spot, but I couldn’t find it among the other
spray cans there. I got down on my knees and reached to the back of
the cabinet, knocking over a few cans.

Impatiently, I began
pulling everything out of the cupboard. I found the ant killer,
window cleaner, scrubbing bubbles, and finally the stain remover.
Why hadn’t I seen it in there?

Déjà vu, all over again, to
quote Yogi Berra. The red spray can. The red carabineer in Sister
Bernadine’s office. The red knitting needle in Wes’ neck. Red looks
black in the dark. A red cargo truck. Bingo!

I pulled the pickle-stained
sweater back over my head dug in my purse for my cell phone. It
wasn’t there. I dumped the purse out on the kitchen table. It
definitely wasn’t there. The car! It was probably on the floor
where my purse landed. I ran out to the garage and opened the
passenger door. Nothing on the floor. I reached under the seat and
grabbed something. When I pulled it out I saw that it was my
checkbook. Where was my phone? Then I spotted my little navy blue
phone tucked into the cup holder. I flipped it open and called the
Sheriff’s Office as I walked back into the kitchen.

Angelia answered the phone.
When I asked for Jacobs, she said, “He’s not in right now. May I
take a message?”

“Angelia, this is Jennifer
Penny, Sister Bernadine’s friend. Do you know where I can find him
or Detective Decker?”