sweet home in the last little while. But, really, what did I know? I decided to boogie out of there at that point, joining the Lori Spandle scaredy-cat club.
Finally my numb fingers hit the right three digits. “We have an emergency,” I said into the phone as I hurried toward Main Street, concentrating on keeping my voice calm and collect.
We
sounded good. I wasn’t alone with this situation.
The dispatcher said, “Your name, please.”
“Story Fischer,” I said too late to take it back. “I mean, Patti Dwyre.”
“Sorry, Story, but we’ve been warned about you.”
“I re-found the dead body. You know, the one I lost last night. I mean, I didn’t lose it, it… uh, never mind. Has anybody called in a dead body in the last few minutes? Because I wasn’t the only witness.”
“You’re the only caller.”
Darn Lori! All she cared about was herself and her stupid image, which in my opinion wasn’t in very good shape to begin with, so why should she bother? I was talking fast now, telling the dispatcher location details. I finished with, “And this time when you come, you can use your lights and sirens.”
Maybe if I said that, they wouldn’t use them. You never knew with our local law enforcement. I still didn’t want to destroy the last few hours of the Harmony Festival if I could help it, but we had a genuine emergency on our hands and maybe even a killer in the crowd. “Yes, lights and sirens would be good.”
“Okay, then,” the dispatcher said, and I swear I heard a patronizing tone. “I’ll pass this information on to the chief just as soon as the parade is over.”
“What?”
But the dispatcher had disconnected.
Dang. Didn’t anyone believe me?
I burst onto Main Street to see the tail end of the parade heading north past Stu’s and over the bridge. People were already folding up their chairs and moving away from the curb, packing up their cars, oblivious to a dead man stuffed in a fireplace a short block away.
Then I had another frightening thought. My reputation couldn’t afford another missing body. I was absolutely sure that I’d tripped over Ford the night before. Someone had hauled him to the house and stuffed him in the fireplace.What if that same person moved him again before I got back? Before anyone from the police department could confirm my story?
In a state of total confusion, I did a 180 and ran back to the house.
Ford was still there, same place, same position, wearing the same Hawaiian shirt as last time I’d seen him. My stomach did a flip. I talked it out of doing anything more than that.
For the first time ever, I thought: Why did it have to be me? Why couldn’t this have happened to somebody else? Why couldn’t someone else report a major crime for a change?
I muttered bad thoughts about Lori, who should have been in the hot seat, not me.
By some miracle, my head cleared momentarily, and I remembered my sister. She was fused to her cell phone like a robot to its control panel. She’d answer for sure. I called Holly.
“Get over to Clay’s house as quick as you can,” I said, so glad to hear her voice on the other end. “And bring backup. Stanley! Bring Stanley. I found the body. It’s Ford. And he’s dead. Oh, and have Stanley call the police. And just in case Noel’s with him, tell Stanley not to bring him along.”
What seemed like ten years later, Holly and Stanley arrived. We met in the driveway next to Ford’s truck.
“Stanley,” I said, “will you go in and take a look at the body in case it disappears again? I want a reliable witness just to be on the safe side.”
“I can do that,” he said.
“It’s not pretty.”
“I’ve seen it all,” Stanley assured me, walking toward the door.
“He’s in the fireplace.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Stanley said, skidding to a stop. “Never mind. I can tell you aren’t. Be right back.”
And he disappeared inside.
Holly, who has been known to wrestle a shoplifter to the
Finally my numb fingers hit the right three digits. “We have an emergency,” I said into the phone as I hurried toward Main Street, concentrating on keeping my voice calm and collect.
We
sounded good. I wasn’t alone with this situation.
The dispatcher said, “Your name, please.”
“Story Fischer,” I said too late to take it back. “I mean, Patti Dwyre.”
“Sorry, Story, but we’ve been warned about you.”
“I re-found the dead body. You know, the one I lost last night. I mean, I didn’t lose it, it… uh, never mind. Has anybody called in a dead body in the last few minutes? Because I wasn’t the only witness.”
“You’re the only caller.”
Darn Lori! All she cared about was herself and her stupid image, which in my opinion wasn’t in very good shape to begin with, so why should she bother? I was talking fast now, telling the dispatcher location details. I finished with, “And this time when you come, you can use your lights and sirens.”
Maybe if I said that, they wouldn’t use them. You never knew with our local law enforcement. I still didn’t want to destroy the last few hours of the Harmony Festival if I could help it, but we had a genuine emergency on our hands and maybe even a killer in the crowd. “Yes, lights and sirens would be good.”
“Okay, then,” the dispatcher said, and I swear I heard a patronizing tone. “I’ll pass this information on to the chief just as soon as the parade is over.”
“What?”
But the dispatcher had disconnected.
Dang. Didn’t anyone believe me?
I burst onto Main Street to see the tail end of the parade heading north past Stu’s and over the bridge. People were already folding up their chairs and moving away from the curb, packing up their cars, oblivious to a dead man stuffed in a fireplace a short block away.
Then I had another frightening thought. My reputation couldn’t afford another missing body. I was absolutely sure that I’d tripped over Ford the night before. Someone had hauled him to the house and stuffed him in the fireplace.What if that same person moved him again before I got back? Before anyone from the police department could confirm my story?
In a state of total confusion, I did a 180 and ran back to the house.
Ford was still there, same place, same position, wearing the same Hawaiian shirt as last time I’d seen him. My stomach did a flip. I talked it out of doing anything more than that.
For the first time ever, I thought: Why did it have to be me? Why couldn’t this have happened to somebody else? Why couldn’t someone else report a major crime for a change?
I muttered bad thoughts about Lori, who should have been in the hot seat, not me.
By some miracle, my head cleared momentarily, and I remembered my sister. She was fused to her cell phone like a robot to its control panel. She’d answer for sure. I called Holly.
“Get over to Clay’s house as quick as you can,” I said, so glad to hear her voice on the other end. “And bring backup. Stanley! Bring Stanley. I found the body. It’s Ford. And he’s dead. Oh, and have Stanley call the police. And just in case Noel’s with him, tell Stanley not to bring him along.”
What seemed like ten years later, Holly and Stanley arrived. We met in the driveway next to Ford’s truck.
“Stanley,” I said, “will you go in and take a look at the body in case it disappears again? I want a reliable witness just to be on the safe side.”
“I can do that,” he said.
“It’s not pretty.”
“I’ve seen it all,” Stanley assured me, walking toward the door.
“He’s in the fireplace.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Stanley said, skidding to a stop. “Never mind. I can tell you aren’t. Be right back.”
And he disappeared inside.
Holly, who has been known to wrestle a shoplifter to the
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