Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 01 - Death Is Clowning Around (2 page)

Chapter 2

In the morning, I packed a bag with my clothes and laptop.
I combed my wavy, long red hair and put it in a rubber band.
A year ago, I’d decided that I wouldn’t cut my hair until I lost twenty pounds.
Ha!
My hair now extends past my shoulders and does exactly what it wants to do, making it quite unruly most of the time.
I just might have to rescind that resolution.

Shelby and I piled into my 1974 red VW Bug.
It made a lot of noise when I started it and each time it idled, but eventually it settled down and we were on our way.
A noisy but quick drive through Sonics Drive-in and we had French toast sticks to share.
Shelby made a great copilot, riding shotgun and keeping me company.
I sang to the radio and she barked along.

By ten I was pulling into Gainsville, a town located at the foot of the Sierra Nevada’s.
Several small businesses lined both sides of Main Street.
However, only a few people milled around.
I immediately spotted the McGowan’s grocery store half way down the street.
It was now called “Jessie’s Store.”

I pulled into a parking space right near the front door of the store.
It was always nice when I had good parking karma.
Shelby barked.

“Easy girl.”
I reached over and unhooked her harness.
“I’ll let you out in a minute.”

I went into the store and
picked up some diet Coke, peanut M & M’s and black licorice
–
essentials
for any vacation.
Then I went to the checkout counter.

“Morning, Ma’am.”
The clerk had an athletic build and a nice smile, but he chewed on his lower lip and his tone was quiet.
He seemed unsure of himself.
His nametag said, “Todd.”

“Good morning, Todd.”
I gave him a cocky grin and pointed to his nametag.

His face broadened with a smile.
“Most people don’t bother to use my name.”

“Well, I’m a kindergarten teacher.
Using a five-year-olds’ name is really important and I guess it just carries over to the rest of my life, too.”

“I knew you were a teacher.”
He tilted his head back and forth, his tone smug.

Had I forgotten to take off my nametag?
Was I wearing a school t-shirt?
No. I asked the obvious question.
“How’d you know?”

He pointed to my car.
“You have a bumper sticker that says, ‘If you can read this sign, thank a teacher.’”

I shrugged and then gestured toward my car.
“Is there a motel in town that allows dogs?”

“Sure, the Gainsville Inn will let you keep your dog with you.
They even have dog-sitting services,” he replied.

“Wow.
That’s wonderful.”

“It’s mostly for the snow skiers who come in the winter, but they’ll extend the service
anytime during
the year.”

“Great.
Thanks, Todd.”

“You’re welcome.
Are you here for the festival?”

“No, I just got in my car and drove.
What festival?”

“The Spring Festival we have each year.
There’s a huge egg hunt tomorrow and then activities all week long.”
His smile broadened again, like he was remembering his own experiences.
“There’s even a carnival at the edge of town.”

I didn’t think much of carnivals.
The rides always creaked and the food was an invitation to spend the night in the bathroom.
But I thanked him for the information.

He grabbed my bag and diet Coke.
I put my hand up.
“You don’t have to do that.
I can carry my own stuff.”

“It’s okay.”
He shrugged and pointed to the empty aisles of the market.
“We’re not very busy.
Everyone is at the fairgrounds setting up for the festival.”

I followed him out to my car.
Shelby started barking and jumping back and forth between the seats.

Todd’s eyes widened and his voice cracked.
“Does she bite?”

I laughed and patted him on the arm.
“No, but she might lick you to death if you get too close.”

Todd opened the passenger door.
Shelby jumped out and took off running.

“Shelby!”
I screamed and went after her.
Todd was right behind me.

Shelby stopped at the nearest tree and peed.
Todd and I watched in silence.
Then she trotted back to us.

I patted her on the head and shrugged.
“Guess, when you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go.”

Todd and I walked back toward the car.
“So, what made you stop in Gainsville?”
He asked as he opened the passenger door and let Shelby back into the car.

“I don’t know.
I was driving, saw the sign for the city, and it sounded familiar,” I lied.
“So I stopped.”

“It’s probably because of my sister.”
His voice was low, his jaw suddenly tightened.

“Your sister?”
I hated lying but I couldn’t exactly come out and tell him that’s why I came to his town.
I was having enough trouble rationally explaining it to myself.

“Yeah.”
He swallowed hard and then added, “Her name was Jessie.
She was kidnapped.”

“That’s right.
It was quite a few years ago, wasn’t it?”

“About ten.”
He leaned against my car.
“I still miss her.”

I put my hand on his arm and nodded sympathetically.
“I’m sure you do.
You never get over losing someone like that.”

“It was my fault, you know.”
He kicked the ground and spoke with such ferocity that I expected a lightening bolt to follow.

“I don’t think so, Todd,” I insisted quietly.

“I was mad at her.”
He sighed.
“I’d gotten out early that day and I had to wait around for her class.
I was walking way out in front of her.
I never saw the van
–
until
it was too late.”

I leaned against my car, next to him.
“What do you remember about that day?”

“I remember her yelling my name, telling me to wait, that she wanted ice cream.
Jessie loved ice cream.
Her and my mom even had it for dinner, sometimes.”
He shook his head in disbelief.
“She was yelling about the ice cream and I screamed back at her to get her damn ice cream and catch up with me.
It was only a few days after her birthday.
I should have been nicer to her.”

“When did you realize that she’d been taken?”

He gave me a poignant look; his tone had a sharp edge to it.
“When I heard her screaming from the van as it went by.”

I needed to lighten up the conversation before he closed down entirely.
“Had you ever seen an ice cream van like that before?”

He shrugged.
“Yeah, they’re all over the place during the summer time.”

“Wasn’t there something about a clown?”

“Yeah, the guy that was holding Jessie had on a clown suit.”

“Did the ice cream people usually wear clown suits?”

He shook his head.

“What about the driver?
Was he dressed up too?”

“No, just a white guy, bald head with a small mustache.”
His eyes widened.
“Do you want to know the strangest part?”

“Sure.”

“There was a stupid bobble-head clown on the dashboard.
It was dressed just like the man that grabbed Jessie.”

“Did the police send out an alert about the van?”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t remember the license plate.
There are so many white vans out there.
The police figured that the ice cream stickers were removed.
They stopped every white van for a hundred miles, but never found Jessie.”
His eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry, Todd.”

“Thanks.”
He rubbed his hands over his eyes.
“Maybe I’ll see you at the festival?”

“Is Shelby allowed?”

“Of course.”
He smiled for the first time since we’d started talking about his sister.
“We’re a big dog community here.”

“Okay, then.”
I nodded.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at the egg hunt.”

Chapter 3

As I got into my car and drove to the Inn, I thought about what Todd had said.
None of the
newspaper
accounts had ever mentioned the bobble-head clown or the fact that it was dressed like the clown in the van.
Maybe it was something that they’d deliberately kept out of the papers.
I remember seeing that on a cop show once.
Or was it something that Todd had never told them?

When I got to the Inn, I hooked Shelby up to her leash, grabbed my bag and walked inside.
A man
,
who reminded me of a bulldog, was arguing with the desk clerk.

“I don’t care, Sarah!” he bellowed, slamming his fist on the desk.
“Find George and get the toilet fixed, now!”

“Yes, sir,” Sarah replied and started dialing numbers.

He turned around and ran right into me.
Shelby barked and leapt toward him.
He jumped back.

I put my hand down, settled my dog, and then looked up.
He was frowning.
He was short, solidly built, with broad shoulders, thick muscular arms, and glistening blue eyes.
He had to be in his early thirties, like me.
My heart started pounding so fast and loud that if felt like a wild elephant was trying to escape from my chests.
I couldn’t catch my breath.
What the hell was happening to me?

His face broke into a huge smile, but his voice was gentle.
“I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean to frighten your dog.”

I took a deep breath and smiled slightly.
“It’s okay.”

He extended his hand and his eyes flashed.
“My name’s Tom.
Are you here for the festival?”

I shook his hand.
“I’m Liza.
I wasn’t really planning to, but Todd at the store told me about it, so I might stay. I don’t know.
I’m just playing it day-by-
day.”

“Great.
Will I see you at the egg hunt?”

“I guess so.”
I shrugged.
Even if I couldn’t control the inside of my body, I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of knowing the way I
was reacting
to him.

“Great.”
He turned back to the clerk, his tone intent.
“Sarah?”

It was obvious she’d been watching us because she jumped when he said her name.
She picked up the phone, bobbling it in her hands.
“I’m trying to find George - right now.”

Tom left and I walked up to the desk.
I heard the girl telling someone on the other line about a broken toilet in Room 17.
“No, he’s not going to wait.
He wants it fixed now!”

She slammed down the phone, turned her attention to me, and gave a plastic grin.
“Good morning and welcome to Gainsville Inn.”

“Good morning, Sarah.”

Using her name made her smile.
“How long are you planning to stay?”

“I don’t know.
I’m on vacation, so I’m just taking it one day at a time.”
I’d said that before.
I hated when I repeated myself.

“Well, you picked a great week to come.”
She handed me a pamphlet.
“There are great activities every
day.”
She gave an exasperated moan.
“I miss a lot of them because I have to be here.”

“Sorry.”

“That’s all right.”
She laughed, then put her head in her hands and stared toward where Tom had exited.
“Some of the people here are worth missing a few activities for.”

I glanced at the front door.
“Who was the angry man with the broken toilet?”

“That’s Tom Owens.
He’s the local sheriff.
His house is being remodeled so he’s staying here.
He’s so mature, not like the rest of the local idiots.”
She took a deep breath and let out a huge sigh and added, “and he’s soooo cute.”

“Is he your boyfriend?”
Why did I ask that?
It wasn’t like I was interested or anything.

She rolled her eyes.
“Like he even knows that I’m alive.”
She handed me a key to Room 7.
“If you need your dog watched, just call the front desk.
We’ve got several local kids who’ll come and dog sit for you.”

I thanked the clerk.
Then Shelby and I wandered down to our room.
It wasn’t big but it was clean and
my
toilet worked.
There were two dog dishes on the counter.
I filled one with water and the other with Shelby’s food.
She took a drink, nibbled a few bites of dog chow, and then jumped up on the bed and lay down.

“Oh no, it’s not time for a nap yet.
Let’s explore the town.”
As soon as I picked up the leash, she was standing at the door.

We wandered down the main street of the town.
Most of the buildings looked like they’d been recently renovated, but kept that ‘old-time’ look and feel to them.
There were wooden building fronts, red and white checkerboard curtains, and traditional signs.
A few businesses still had pictures of Jessie’s missing child poster in their window.
She was holding her snow skis and smiling.

I stopped at a small boutique and tied Shelby to a front post.
She lay right down.
The store was filled with craft items made by the locals.
I picked up a kitchen towel embroidered with several red apples and an apple coat hanger.
I took the two items to the front desk.

“Are you here for the festival?”
An elderly clerk asked as she bagged the items I’d purchased.

“Yes.”
I was tired of explaining myself.
I pointed to the front window.
“I noticed the missing child poster in the window.
Did it happen recently?”

“No, Jessie was taken ten years ago, but we never give up hope.”

“Are you close to the family?”
I asked.

“Gainsville is a small community.
Everyone knows everyone, sometimes too well.”
She chewed on her lower lip for a moment.

“I’m sure that happens in small towns.”

“Yeah.”

“There’s never been any news about the child?”

“No.
She just vanished one day and that was it.”

I glanced back at the poster on the window.
“Now that you mention it, I do remember hearing something about her kidnapping.”

“It was big news here and everywhere else, too.”
She put my apple coat hanger into the bag.
“Her family had problems already, but when she was kidnapped, it destroyed them.”

“What kind of problems?”

She leaned forward. “The dad was never around. He drove a truck and was always on the road.” She shook her head. “And the mom was a drunk. Losing Jessie sent them all over the edge. The mom went on a binge that lasted years, and the dad left town and never came back.”

“Wasn’t there a brother?”

“Yeah, Todd.
He was such a nice young man before his sister was taken.
He used to come over and cut my lawn.
But he blamed himself for not saving Jessie.
He started hanging out with a bad crowd in high school.
He was into drugs, and I think the sheriff picked him up several times.
But he’s doing okay now.
He runs his family’s grocery store.”

“What about the rest of the family?”

“The mom died a few years ago.
It’s funny – she had
finally stopped drinking and was getting her life back together again.
She went on vacation and came back so excited.
Someone
heard that she’d seen Jessie
.
It was probably just wishful thinking.
But that night she drove her car into a ditch and killed herself.
They said she was drunk.”

“That’s so sad.”
I frowned.

“Yeah.
The dad came back when she died, but he didn’t stay long.
He turned the business over to Todd and left.”
The clerk handed me my package.
“Am I going to see you at the egg hunt?”

“Probably.”
I retrieved Shelby and we walked back to the Inn.

Odd.
Jessie’s
mom thought she’d seen Jessie –
and
then she died.
I wonder if that meant anything.

Chapter 4

For dinner I left Shelby in the room and walked to an Italian restaurant downtown.
It was small and quaint, with red and white-checkered tablecloths, large Chianti bottles with dripping red candles for the table centerpieces, and Frank Sinatra singing in the background.
I ordered Chicken Picata and it melted in my mouth.

There’s a small refrigerator and microwave in my room, so I took my leftovers with me.
When I got back, I did some research on bobble-head clowns.
It was amazing how many different sites there were where you could buy them.
It took me an hour, but I finally found one that matched the description of the clown that had abducted Jessie.
I figured I’d buy one, but when I tried to I was asked for my ID and password.
There was a button to sign up, so I pushed it.

The website “Uptown Clowns” opened up.
They were located in Los Angeles.
The website was dark with a huge scowling clown face in the middle.
The words “Uptown Clowns are the only true clowns!”
flashed
across the bottom.
A shiver ran up my spine.
It didn’t cost anything to join but I decided not to use my real name or address.
I lied on the three-page survey, too.
It asked where I was a clown, how long I’d been a clown, and what got me into the clown business.
It also asked questions about my political affiliation and what I believed in.
The deeper I got into the survey, the more I realized that it was an extremely right wing organization.
They didn’t like other clowns either.
If you weren’t part of the Uptown Clown’s organization, you were considered beneath them.
It was creepy in a white supremacy of clown’s way.

By the end of the survey, I was sure I didn’t believe in anything that they stood for.
I pushed the submit button anyway and was returned to the original site so I could buy the bobble-head clown.
Then I realized that in order to buy it I’d have to use my real name so I could use my credit card.
That just didn’t feel like a good idea.
I exited out of the program.

Just then I heard a knock at my door.
Shelby went nuts, barking.
I looked through the peephole and saw Tom Owens.
My pulse skipped a beat.
What the hell was happening to me?
I’d never reacted to anyone like that.
Sarah was right, he was
handsome
, but please, I’m thirty-two years old and shouldn’t be reacting like a teenager.

“Shelby, go lie down,” I shouted.
She responded immediately, by jumping on the bed.
I opened the door.
“Yes?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to go and get a drink?”
He rocked back on his heels, looking sheepish, but his smile was warm and inviting.

I wasn’t in town to get a date, but still I couldn’t settle my heart rate or breathing, not to mention the butterflies in my stomach around this man.
One little drink wouldn’t hurt, would it?
I shrugged.
“Sure, just a minute.”
I grabbed my white sweater, made sure Shelby had water and then closed the door.

“Will your dog be okay?” he asked, shifting his weight from one foot to another.

Was he as uncomfortable as I felt?
I glanced at him and smiled, not sure who I was trying to reassure, him or me.
“Shelby’s fine for a while.”

“Great.”
He paused.
“So, what do you like to drink?”

“Diet Coke,” I replied bluntly.
I’d never acquired a taste for alcohol and I wasn’t going to start now.

“How about pie?”

“Oh, I love pie.”

“Okay.
Then it’s the local diner for Coke and pie.
It’s just a few blocks.
Is it okay to walk or would you rather I drive?”

He had manners.
I’d give him that.
“No, walking is fine.”

“Great.”