Murder at the High School Reunion (17 page)

“What do you think, Lou?”

“It looks like one of the nouveau riche is about to be
disinherited. At least, it seems like Rose Ellen Calvert or Jim Bob Gibbons had
the best opportunity.”

“Could it be that it was clever of Miss Calvert to
turn around Gibbons’ seeing her in the kitchen to where it might incriminate
him? Did she wait until the couple gained entrance to the kitchen and shove
them into the freezer before she left? Or linger nearby and take advantage of
Conkwright entering the freezer on his own?”

“We know that Conkwright and Mrs. Spencer entered the
freezer of their on volition. At least we think they did. That would sound more
like a little time elapsed, and Gibbons, who was standing at the kitchen door
wondering what scared Miss Calvert, took advantage of the opportunity when
Conkwright entered the kitchen and walked into the freezer. Of course, maybe
neither one of them did it. Maybe a third person came along after both of our
suspects had left the area.”

“Of course, either of the first two could have shut
them in the freezer without any intent of killing them. Maybe they told someone
else, and told them to go back and let them out after so long a time.”

“You mean after they had a chance to cool off?”

“Oh, Lou, you certainly have a way with words.”

“Remember, I’ve been doing crossword puzzles for
years.”

Lou and I continued to talk about the case, hoping we
could make an arrest before 11:00 the next morning, but to no avail. We would
pick up the case again on Monday, where we left off that Friday night.

+++

An elephant and Cy Dekker never forget, so as soon as
I returned from taking Lou home, I headed to the computer to Google Jennifer
Sharp.

Anxiously, I typed in the name Jennifer Sharp. There
was a reference to a Facebook page, so I clicked on it. There was a picture.
The first thing I noticed was her harelip. The second was her misshapen head.
It looked like the doctor had used forceps to remove her from her mother, while
in a fit of anger. I had seen the movie
The Elephant Man.
I’d seen the
classic movie
Freaks.
I’d seen my next-door neighbor. But never had I
seen anyone who was as hideous looking as Jennifer Sharp. I looked at her list
of Friends. A picture identified Thelma Lou as her cousin, so it had to be the
same Jennifer Sharp who would soon make my weekend miserable. If someone had
scanned the Internet for the ugliest person alive, they would have ended up
with Jennifer Sharp. There was no way I could go through with this date. Maybe
if I called Lou and had him Google her, he would understand. Then I remembered.
Lou had told me that under no condition was I to Google the woman. Somehow, I
had to get even with Lou. I wondered if there was any way I could fix Lou up
with my next-door neighbor.

I thought of ways to get sick. One came to mind
immediately, but that one wouldn’t work. That one would happen tomorrow, if I
couldn’t get out of the date. I thought of Googling “Desperate Women,” seeing
if I could find one that didn’t look too bad. If so, maybe we could find a Justice
of the Peace before nightfall, then have the marriage annulled on Monday. Then
I remembered that Lou said this woman might be moving to Hilldale. Would it be
better to stay married to my Desperate Woman just in case?

I wondered what I had done to make God do this thing
to me. And what if I couldn’t get out of the date? Lou said Thelma Lou and
Jennifer were planning the date. What were my chances that we’d go somewhere so
dark that I couldn’t see the woman across from me, and that no one else could see
who was with me? I wondered if I should call Thelma Lou and let her know how
much I love spelunking.

That caused my thoughts to turn to Thelma Lou. I’d
always thought that Thelma Lou liked me. What had I done to gain her wrath?

My phone rang. It was Lou.

“Listen, Lou, I think I’m coming down with something.
I don’t think I’ll be able to make the date tomorrow. Maybe you can find
someone else.”

“Cy, you went to the computer and Googled her, didn’t
you?”

“How did you know?”

“I just did the same thing myself. I thought I’d
better call you and remind you that you promised me you’d do this.”

“But, Lou, she must be at least seventy.”

“Seventy-two, I believe her page said.”

“What did I ever do to you to deserve this?”

“That was a gruesome picture, wasn’t it, Cy?”

“It’s not funny, Lou.”

“Look at it this way, Cy. She can’t look any worse in
person. Besides, it’s only one weekend.”

I hung up. If I went to bed early and had nightmares,
at least that would be an improvement over the last few minutes. Only one
weekend. There are a lot of seconds in one weekend. Maybe something would
prevent the world’s only ugly Jennifer from getting to Hilldale. If I prayed
earnestly, would God cause it to snow in July? Somehow, I didn’t think so. What
options did I have left? I thought of hypnotism. I wondered if there were any
lingering affects. I thought of my next-door neighbor. I knew there would be
lingering affects there. I wondered if there was a waiting list to join a
monastery. What if someone from the department saw the two of us together? I
did promise that I’d go out with her, but I didn’t promise where. I wondered if
I called Lou and offered to meet the three of them somewhere in Pittsburgh if he would go for it. As far as I knew, I didn’t know anyone in Pittsburgh.

I awoke the next morning, realized that it was
Saturday, and then remembered our plans. There was no way to get out of it. All
I could say is that whoever I would interrogate on Monday had better watch out.
I might get a confession out of someone who isn’t guilty.

I slunk out of bed. I thought briefly about not
showering or using deodorant, but quickly dismissed that notion. I had to live
with me, too. I would look my best. I burned my bacon at breakfast, and my
oatmeal stuck to the pan. I took my frustrations out on the Wii Fit board and
did better on the exercises I had somewhat mastered and turned in my usual bad
scores on the others. Except for the one time I tripped over the board stepping
up onto it and almost saying a bad word, I survived with flying colors. I took
a shower, shaved, and fixed my hair the best I could, which means I swiped at
it a couple of times with a brush.

I needed to calm down, so I saved my prayer time and
devotional reading for last. I asked God to get me out of the mess. I felt like
He was telling me that everything would be just fine. I assumed that to mean
that Thelma Lou’s cousin had decided to go home early and have reconstructive
surgery. Shortly after I finished that prayer the phone rang. I’ve never known
God to call on the phone, either in my life or in scripture, so I answered it,
figured it was Lou. It was. He told me he was on his way to pick me up. He
didn’t say anything about Thelma Lou’s cousin’s surgery. As I hung up, I
realized that God’s definition of “all right” was much different than the one I
had in mind.

Lou pulled up in front of the house. I spotted a
shopping bag lying on my kitchen counter. I thought about picking it up, taking
it with me and asking my date to put it over her head before I came in. If she
got mad and wouldn’t go out with me, so much the better. But then I realized if
I took the bag there was a good chance I would lose two friends, so I refrained
from grabbing the bag.

It was too late to put up the quarantined sign, so I
opened the door and stepped out into Saturday morning. I took my time getting
to Lou’s classy 1957 Chevy, just in case my next-door neighbor rushed over,
mauled me, and gave me some kind of contagious disease. The one time I wanted
to see her she failed me.

I opened the car door, got in, buckled up, and looked
over at Lou. He was smiling. I returned his smile with a frown. That turned his
smile into a big grin.

“I can tell you’re excited, Cy.”

“You’re gonna owe me big time.”

“Maybe she looks better in person.”

I couldn’t see how. I’d double-checked her friends’
list on her Facebook page. It said she was Thelma Lou’s cousin. I had the right
Jennifer Sharp. Actually, it was the wrong Jennifer Sharp, but it looked like
she was mine, at least for a weekend. I could see why Lou warned me to stay
away from Googling her. I could also see why Thelma Lou had to get blind dates
for her. I tried to think of someone who might enjoy a blind date with the
woman. Only Stevie Wonder and Ray Charles came to mind. That is if they didn’t
touch her face, which looked craggier than Mt. Rushmore, and if her voice
sounded much better than her face looked.

In milliseconds, we pulled up in front of Thelma Lou’s
house. I recognized it, because Lou and I had double-dated many times.

Reluctantly, I got out. Wobbly-legged, I followed Lou
up to the front door. His knock garnered an immediate reply of, “It’s open.”
Lou motioned for me to go first. I gave him a dirty look, and said, “After you,
Friend.”

I followed in Lou’s footsteps, which means I did my
best to hide behind him. I saw no one but Thelma Lou. Maybe they were saving
the surprise until I arrived. Maybe her cousin left to have surgery after all.
My jubilation was short lived.

“Oh, Jennifer’s in the other room putting her face
on.”

I refrained from commenting, but that didn’t stop me
from thinking.
I hope she uses a pound of make-up.

Nervously, I shuffled from one foot to the other. What
seemed like an hour couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds. I failed to
notice Lou and Thelma Lou grinning at each other. Then, the earth moved. This
gorgeous creature entered the room. Her honey-colored hair, full of body, hung
down and caressed her shoulders. Her tan was just right, not too dark, and not
too pale. Her body contained all the necessary parts, and in the right
proportions. She had on shorts and was barefoot. Even her feet were beautiful.

She walked toward me, with her hand stuck out.

“Hi, I’m Jennifer Sharp. You must be Cy.”

The laughter from my so-called friends alerted me to
the fact that my mouth was wide open. I didn’t improve matters when I said,
“Yes,” in a voice much higher than one that had ever come out of my mouth, even
during puberty. They laughed again, and I soon realized why. I’d failed to let
go of that gorgeous creature’s hand, but then, when I realized that I hadn’t, I
wasn’t sure I wanted to. I let her hand go, and all I could do was utter,
“Bu...bu...bu...but.”

The gorgeous creature spoke to me, again.

“It wasn’t my idea.”

Since she was looking at me, I figured she was addressing
me, so I responded, this time in a voice closer to the one I usually use.

“What wasn’t your idea?”

“To put all that false information on my Facebook
page. Thelma Lou said that Lou came up with the idea, just in case you peeked.
At least the fact you peeked told me you were looking forward to our date.”

As soon as I could take my eyes off her, which was no
more than a day or two later, I looked at my friend who was grinning. I would
tell him later that he was dead meat.

“Why don’t we all sit down?” Thelma Lou asked, and I
thought it was a good idea. My legs were started to feel rubbery again.

Lou and Thelma Lou made some pretense for leaving the
room, which gave Jennifer and me a few minutes to get to know each other in
private. In a matter of moments, my desire for the itinerary for the blind date
changed. I wanted to parade her back and forth in front of the police station,
in case any of my co-workers were there. Actually, I wanted to parade her by
every person I knew, particularly the males, and then take her to my place.

As it turned out, she already knew a lot about me. I
soon learned that she was forty-two and had been a widow for two years. She
shared about the loneliness of suddenly being a widow and how her family
reached out to her to help her through the difficult time. We briefly compared
our loneliness, as I knew what it was like to lose a spouse to death, and then
she told me that the one thing this had enabled her to do was to spend time
with family members she would not have spent time with otherwise. She told me
that Thelma Lou had suggested that she relocate to Hilldale and had invited her
to visit to check out the town. In just a few minutes time, I had a change of
heart. I totally agreed that she should move to Hilldale, although I didn’t
want to appear too eager, so I didn’t suggest it. After all, we were only to
the handshake stage.

What seemed like seconds later, but was actually
fifteen minutes, a couple of heads peeked around the corner, and they emerged
with bodies in tow.

“So, did Jennifer tell you our plans for the day?”

“No, we hadn’t gotten that far yet.”

“Well, Cy, the weather is so pretty, and Jennifer
loves sports so much, we decided to go out for lunch, then on to play miniature
golf.”

“Do you play miniature golf, Cy?” the gorgeous
creature asked.

If I was going to have to play, I knew better than to
lie.

“It’s been a while since I’ve played.”

It had been a while. I think someone made me do it
once when I was a teenager.

“Well, I’m sure it will all come back to you,” GC said.

Then, Former Friend butted in.

“If it’s slow in coming back to you, Cy, I’m sure that
Jennifer would be more than happy to help you with your game, wouldn’t you,
Jennifer?”

“Oh, I love giving pointers.”

At that point, I knew that even if I had been a
miniature golf champion, I was going to need pointers. Hands on help would be
even better.

Thelma Lou spoke next.

“I know you boys have been watching what you eat and
losing weight, so I took that into consideration when I chose a place for us to
eat lunch.”

If it had been me, I would have taken lighting into
consideration. I wanted a dark place, but for a much different reason than the
one I had before we arrived.

Lou and I did our best to act like gentlemen, which
means we opened the car door for both of the girls. As I walked around the car
to the other side of the back seat in order to get in and sit next to Jennifer,
Lou whispered to me, “You owe me.”

I most definitely owed him, in more ways than one.

I can’t tell you what we had for lunch; but somehow, I
kept from getting whatever it was all over me. From time to time, someone from
the other side of the table spoke to me, which were the only times I became
aware that someone was on the other side of the table.

While miniature golf isn’t a vigorous exercise, we
lingered at the table for a while, after we finished eating, to give our food
time to settle. I was sure those on the other side of the table were talking
about the two of us on our side of the table, but I didn’t give that any
thought.

A few minutes later, we arrived at the miniature golf
course, and then at the first hole.

Jennifer turned to me and said, “Cy, this hole looks
easy. It’s a good one to start with, but then usually the easier holes are
first.”

I smiled and nodded. Being the gentlemen that Lou and
I are, and the fact that neither of us knew a thing about miniature golf, we
let the girls go first. Jennifer promptly stepped up, lined up her putt, and
knocked it in the hole. Thelma Lou went next and missed holing her putt by a
couple of inches. I motioned for Lou to go next. He putted and I was thankful
that I wouldn’t be the only doofus there. His ball rolled up, hit the concrete
barrier behind the hole, and rolled back to where Lou was standing. He smiled,
embarrassed. He tried again, with slightly better results.

Finally, it was my turn. I hoped I needed some
personal instruction. I wanted to make sure that was the case. My ball didn’t
become airborne until it hopped over the barrier and out into the grass.
Jennifer retrieved my ball and handed it back to me.

“Not quite so hard this time.”

The second time my ball moved no more than three feet.
I gave her the palms up sign. I was thankful that all it took was two bad shots
to get personal instruction.

“Here, let me show you, Cy.”

To put your hands over top of someone else’s on the
putter, you have to get close. Real close. When she got close enough to help
me, it caused me to mishit, only this time not on purpose.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“That’s okay, Cy. Take your time.”

I tried hard to think of putting that golf ball, but
that was hard to do. It had been too many years since I had had a woman that
close to me, and since I had felt that good. I suddenly realized that there’s
more to life than solving murders and reading about other people who do the
same. I did my best to regain my composure, but it took a few strokes, before I
settled down. Finally, I hit a reasonably good shot and everyone clapped for
me. I wanted more instruction, but I had to put away my thoughts and
concentrate on that stupid game.

Over the course of eighteen holes I improved. I hit
the ball over the barrier only one more time, although I had a lot of uphill
putts come back to me, because I had either hit the ball too hard or not hard
enough. I did come in fourth, but not a distant fourth. Sometimes it’s nice to
have Lou around.

“So, what’s next?” I asked, more eager to continue the
date than I had been early that morning.

Thelma Lou answered my question.

“Well, I thought we’d go back to my place and hang
out. Jennifer and I will fix dinner for you boys, and then I thought we’d play
some games on the Wii. Lou’s been telling me about how good you’re getting on
the Fit.”

“Only on the Advanced Step. The rest of them are still
a lot tougher than what I can handle.”

“Well, I’ve got Wii Sports and Wii Sports Resort, too.
Let’s see how you are at some of those games.”

Ordinarily, I wouldn’t be in favor of “Let’s see Cy
mess up at something else,” but if it was Wii games with Jennifer or go home
without Jennifer, I was in favor of those Wii games. Besides, I expected to
thoroughly enjoy watching her Wii.

Lou and I were instructed to sit and talk while the
girls fixed dinner. After dinner, and a sufficient amount of time to let our
food settle, Thelma Lou pulled out the Wii Fit board.

“Let’s start with Wii Fit. Then we’ll do play some
sports games. Cy, why don’t you show us your Advanced Step moves?”

Reluctantly, I complied, followed by my three
companions. I was surprised that I turned in the best score of the foursome,
and Jennifer eagerly congratulated me on my great moves. I was glad she didn’t
have to win at everything.