The Light Who Shines (15 page)

Bluebell Kildare: May 28, 2022, Red Ages

I stand at the counter in the office of Tim Pulgowski’s
school just before the end of the school day.

The administration clerk, Trudy Babbith, jabs her bony finger
in the air toward Varg. “Dogs aren’t allowed on school grounds.”

Thankfully Varg is his small self right now and looks the
size of a large dog. I flash her my ID and say, “He’s a police dog.”

Trudy looks skeptical as she reads the ID. “Isn’t he
supposed to wear a jacket that says ‘police dog’ on the side?”

Darn, I forgot about that. “His jacket got torn up in the
last drug bust.”

Disbelief is written all over her face as she says, “You
work in a drug unit and in homicides?” obviously referring to the title on my
ID.

Double darn, she’s sharp. I defend myself. ”My dog’s skills
are used in a wide variety of situations, and we help where needed.” I can tell
she doesn’t buy it, but she lets it pass anyway, which is good because I feel
like I’m about to be sent to the principal’s office.

I lean forward on the counter while tapping my foot.
“Anyway, is Tim Pulgowski here today? I’d like to ask him some questions about
Jason O’Connell.”

Trudy suddenly looks a little more sympathetic to my cause.
Her thin face contorts in a frown, and her drooping eyes sadden. I decide that
Trudy is a good nut after all. She sniffs and says, “Please take a seat while I
call him down.”

I sit on a hard, orange plastic chair, the same one that’s adorned
high school waiting areas everywhere for the last few decades. It hurt my butt in
high school, and it hurts my butt now. I stand up again and restlessly pace the
eight by ten foot, beige linoleum waiting area while Varg sits dutifully next
to the chairs. He appears to be a far better student than I. A bulletin board
on the wall draws my attention. Oh, look, chess club meets tomorrow! I was
always a fan of chess club.

As I’m examining the flyer, a boy about Jason’s age walks
through the door. When he sees Varg, he exclaims, “Whoa, awesome! That looks
like a Canis lupus! Only like way smaller!”

“He’s my police canine,” I say quickly, trying to distract
Trudy.

The boy looks at me sideways with that statement but
nevertheless asks, “Can I pet him?”

“Sure!”

He sticks his hand out slowly. Varg sniffs his hand and wags
his tail a little. The boy gently touches his back, and apparently encouraged
by the fact that he is still alive, he gives him a few small strokes. “Wow. He’s
beautiful!”

I beam like a proud mother.

Trudy, who is standing at the counter, clears her throat and
jerks her head to get his attention. Her sagging jowls shake a little when she
does this, which gets my attention.

The boy stands straight and hands her his slip. He says, “I was
called down to the office.”

The clerk nods in my direction. “Inspector Kildare from the Supernatural
Homicide Investigation Unit would like to speak with you.”

Cripes! That woman is good. She got that from a one-second
glance at my ID. We should hire her at the office, bony finger and all.

I turn to Tim and notice the way his shoulders slump and his
back hunches slightly. “Hello, Tim. I’d like to ask you some questions about
Jason. Do you have a few minutes?”

Tim looks a little stricken, but says, “Sure. What do you
want to know?”

“Why don’t we step outside so we can discuss this
privately.”

I turn to Trudy. “We won’t be more than fifteen minutes.”
When she assents, we leave.

As soon as we leave the building I ask Tim, “So, what is a
Canis lupus?”

He says, “Dude! It’s a gray wolf. This one doesn’t appear to
have any hybridization in its features, though it is smaller than I’d expect.”

“You certainly know a lot about wolves.”

Tim shrugs. “I like animals. It’s kind of my thing.”

“So, what do you think the chances are that Trudy is not
looking up what a Canis lupus is right now?”

Tim laughs at that, a short, amused chuckle. “Zero chance. She
totally is!”

“That is what I was afraid of.”

I move us toward a bench in the schoolyard so we can speak
undisturbed. Tim perches on the edge of the bench while scuffing his feet on
the ground. I settle down next to him to help put him at ease. Tim is mid-height
for a boy his age, a little on the skinny side, and is wearing jeans, an
untucked, plaid button-down, and a gray sweatshirt. His sneakers are dirty but
tied. His hair is medium brown, short, and straight. He sits nervously, playing
with his hands and not looking me in the eyes. The feelings I’m getting from
him are anxiety and sadness.

I turn to face him. “I understand you were close to Jason.”

Tim looks like he’d rather talk about wolves but is trying
to man up. While still fidgeting, he says, “He was my best friend.”

“How long were the two of you friends?”

Tim pulls the unfastened zipper on his sweatshirt up and
down. “We met in honors algebra our freshman year, so that was almost three
years ago. Jason was the smartest kid in the class. I was kind of struggling because
biology is more my thing, and Jason helped me out.”

Coming from this kid, saying that Jason was the smartest in
the class means something. He’s obviously very bright himself. “Did you guys
spend a lot of time together?”

Tim looks askance at me. “I’m not a suspect, am I? Because
if I am, I want a lawyer.”

I smile at Tim. He’s a sharp boy, no doubt. “No, Tim. I’m
just trying to get to know a little more about how Jason spent his time. Since
you were his best friend, you probably know better than anyone.”

Tim looks much relieved at this, and I sense a lot of his
anxiety dissipate. “Okay then. Well, we had honors classes together a lot, and
because of that we had the same lunch period. So we usually sat together with
some of the other honors students.”

“Did you guys do any extracurricular activities after
class?”

Tim shrugs. “We both took a robotics class after school in
the science lab. That ended before winter break. We haven’t done anything
since.”

“Did Jason do any activities that you weren’t in?”

Tim shakes his head and starts picking at his fingernails.

“Tim, I know it is probably really hard to think about him
right now. I’m sorry I have to ask you all these questions.”

Tim says, “That’s okay.” But he keeps picking at his nails. I
get the feeling it is not so okay and this really sucks. Suddenly Varg comes
around the bench and puts his head on Tim’s lap. Tim breaks a small smile and
starts entwining his fingers with Varg’s fur.

“Did you and Jason ever do things or go places after school
that were not school related?”

Tim is much more at ease now that he is petting Varg. I
should have told Trudy he was a therapy dog. Tim’s eyes flick to mine now, and
I see a well of loneliness.

“We used to walk home from school together a lot. We could
have taken the bus, but sometimes we just wanted to be outside. You know, the
break is nice before you have to do homework and chores. Sometimes we would
stop off at Fizzy’s for malts on the way home. You know, the usual.”

I ask, “Can you tell me, did Jason have any problems with any
of the kids at school?”

Tim sniffs and looks down at his hands in Varg’s fur but
doesn’t stop moving them. “No. He didn’t have a lot of friends, but that was
because he was pretty quiet around most people. No one had a problem with him,
though.”

“How did the kids feel about his magic?”

Tim looks up at me sharply with that question. “No one knew,
except his parents found out a few months ago. But he never told anyone at
school because a lot of the more popular kids would have harassed him. That
sort of thing doesn’t go over too well at our school.”

“So you think he would have been bullied?”

Tim studiously weaves his fingers through Varg’s thick fur,
examining the effect as he talks. “Well, Jason was in pretty good shape, but he
wasn’t super big. I don’t know that anyone would have hurt him, but they would
have bothered him. And you know, he was into his studies. He just didn’t want
to mess with that.”

“Did it bother you that he had a gift?”

Tim looks up now with a smile. “No, Ma’am! I thought it was
awesome!”

Hmm. I’m not too happy about being called Ma’am. But what is
really frustrating is that I feel like I’m getting nowhere.

I try a different angle. “Tim, can you remember back to the
last day you saw him? Did anything unusual happen that day?”

Tim looks at nothing in front of us, and I can practically
see him scanning his memories of that day. “I saw him in school that day, and
he seemed totally normal. We ate lunch together as usual. I had to stay late in
the library after school, though, so I don’t know what he did afterwards.”

I frame the next question carefully. “I understand Jason had
some trouble with his magic. Was he seeing anyone to help get control over it?”

Tim looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Jason didn’t have
any trouble with his magic! He was in total control.”

Well, that sounds definitive! I chastise myself as I see
that I’ve made a gross error in not taking the perceptions of Jason’s parents
with a grain of salt. They are parents, after all.

“Hmm, I’m sorry. I must have been given incorrect
information. I was led to believe he was still struggling with some control
issues. Can you tell me about his gift?”

Tim seems happy to correct me on this point, so he explains
with a certain amount of pride in his friend, “In the beginning, I guess he did
have some trouble controlling his gift. But he practiced and was awesome at it.
He just didn’t share it with his parents because they were all freaked out
about it and stuff. His magic was sort of an amplifier. He could make anyone
else’s magic stronger.”

I need to confirm what he means, “So for instance, if
someone had the gift of lighting fire, he could turn a small flame into a large
flame? Something like that?”

Tim says, “Dude! I mean dudette! Exactly! Except that he
could turn a small flame into a bonfire! He was practicing with magic fireworks
so he could audition for the Sun Flare Celebration Fireworks Show. It was
awesome!”

“Could he do this with any kind of magic or just certain
kinds?” I inquire.

Tim smiles. “As far as I know, he never ran into anything
that didn’t work.”

“So how did his audition go?”

Tim thinks back for a minute, and suddenly his eyes go wide.
“I don’t know. He never told me. It was coming up soon, I know, but I don’t remember
exactly when it was.”

I try not to let this small bud of hope flare up
prematurely, so I say casually, “Do you know where he got the information about
the audition?”

Tim nods. “It was on the school bulletin board. They were
looking for volunteers.”

“Thanks so much, Tim. You have been a great help!” I hand
him my card and say, “If you remember anything else that happened that week,
please let me know.”

Tim nods and rubs Varg’s head a few more times before
standing up to go.

I stand up with him and say, “Tim, I want you to know that
I’m going to do everything I can to bring whoever did this to justice. I’m not
going to stop working on this case until that happens.”

Tim looks up at me, and I see something click in his head as
he understands I mean it. I feel that somehow I’ve righted something for him. I
can feel some of the heaviness fall off him and the turmoil coming from him
still. I imagine it must be scary to be a kid and have one of your friends die
unexpectedly. Hopefully it makes him feel better to know that people care and that
Jason will not just be forgotten.

Tim nods at me and says, “I promise I’ll call if I think of
anything else.”

I hold out my hand to shake Tim’s, and he takes it and gives
me a firm handshake while looking me directly in the eyes for the first time. I
think he understands the handshake is more than a goodbye; it is a promise.

Varg and I run into the school again and burst into the
office. Trudy is standing with her hands on her hips when I check out the bulletin
board. Trudy starts giving me a death glare, but I ignore her as I scan for the
flyer. Well, I’ll be! The flyer is old, but it is still there. It reads:

Seeking
Volunteers for the Sun Flare Celebration Fireworks and Magic Show

Talents
of Interest: Fire, Fireworks, Illusion Magic

Great
opportunity! Gain valuable experience for your résumé and give back to the
community.

Auditions
will take place on Phantom Island across from the library.

Thursday,
April 28 at 3:00 p.m.

Sponsored
by the Rotary Club

Bluebell Kildare: May 28, 2022, Red Ages

As I walk up to Maud’s house, I wonder what in the world
possessed her to replace the zinnia with marigolds.

Maud is holding the door open impatiently. “Would you hurry
up, chicky? Hot rollers take a little time, you know.”

I quicken my pace and leap up on the stoop with Varg
following behind.

“Maud, this is Varg. Varg, this is Maud.”

Maud raises her eyebrows, making them look like golden
arches under her sherbet colored hair. The fuchsia appears to have faded to a
soft pink, and new streaks of gold have been added. Her subtle peach kimono
style dress perfectly complements her hair, and both do wonders for her
complexion.

Somehow, I’m hardly shocked at all when Maud responds to a
wolf in her home with a practical, “Well hello, Varg. I’m sorry I haven’t got
any steak for you.”

Then she proceeds to ignore him completely, glaring at me
instead. “I have the rollers heating up. Why in the world aren’t you wearing
your dress yet?”

“I’m changing here.” I dash into her bathroom, dress and bag
in hand.

A few minutes later, I emerge wearing a blue satin
confection, trimmed about the waist and halter straps in black piping. I swish
my hips, and when the full skirt twirls around my thighs I give a delighted peal
of laughter. “I haven’t worn a dress in ages!”

Maud looks at me with narrow eyes. “That is your own fault,
chicky.”

I protest, “It is not. I never get asked out!”

Maud throws back her head and laughs throatily. “You have it
all mixed up, Blue. First you wear the dresses. Then you get asked out!”

Hmm, she might have a point there.

Maud pulls out a chair at the table next to where the hot
rollers are sitting. “Well, let’s get to this.” I obediently sit down as she
starts rolling my plain, straight as a board, dark brown hair into rollers.

“So, you’re going with your boss, Jack?” she asks.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to avoid this conversation. It
figures she waits until I’m pinned underneath her agile fingers to drill me.

“It’s just a work thing!”

Maud tugs a little harder than necessary. “Uh huh. Men don’t
let themselves be seen with a woman at a social event like this unless they
think she’s beautiful.”

I ponder this for a moment. She might have another point.
However, in an effort to deflect her questions, I make a point myself. “Maud, do
you honestly think that marigolds are an adequate replacement for zinnia?”

Maud jerks my hair this time as she gathers the strand for
the next roller.

“Ouch!”

She goes a little more gently now. “Sorry. You just brought
up a sore subject. I did
not
, let me repeat,
not
replace my zinnia
with marigolds. It was that damn Harry Pickets again.”

I flinch under another strong hair tug. “Ow! Really? How do
you know it was him?”

“Be still, girl. Beauty is pain. I know because I caught his
gardener this morning just as he was finishing up. He gave me a message from
Harry,” Maud says as she deftly sections another portion of my hair.

I clench my teeth through the next few tugs. “What was the
message?”

“Your hair is an inspiration,” Maud says as she rolls
another section up.

I huff in exasperation. “What do you mean my hair is an
inspiration? It has got to look ridiculous in these rollers!”

“Not your hair, chicky. My hair! That was Harry’s message.”

“Oh! He must have meant that your hair looked like the marigolds!
Maud, maybe Harry has a thing for you. What did you say to that?” I flinch
again as she nears the tender hair at my neck.

Maud clicks her tongue with annoyance. “I decided one favor
deserved another. So I paid the gardener to dump a load of manure in Harry’s
yard.”

I bust out laughing.

Maud chuckles softly. “The gardener, of course, thought it
was a great gift. I do hope Harry gets the message behind it.”

Maud does a circle around me and leans back, appraising her
work. She nods in satisfaction and says, “Now we wait. So tell me about this
animal of yours.”

Maud and I chat awhile as the rollers cool. I tell her all
about Varg’s adventures so far and his potential magical abilities. Maud is
enthralled. She has a thing for strays, me included, I think.

When the rollers are cool, she starts to pull them out, and
her green eyes soften. “Hold on. I have the perfect things to go with this!”

She runs to her bedroom and returns moments later with her
hands behind her back. She says in a sing-song voice, “Now close your eyes!”

I obey and can feel her placing barrettes in my hair, a
necklace on my neck, and some clip-on earrings on my ears.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now. Go look in the mirror.”

I walk to the mirror in her foyer, and holy smokes! I look
like an old Hollywood starlet! Black crystal barrettes glitter in my hair,
holding the waves in elegant swoops. My blue streak is tucked in a wave down
the side of my head. The necklace has a large, black, pear-shaped crystal that dangles
just above my cleavage. It’s surrounded by smaller dangling crystal beads
alternating in glistening blue and black. The earrings are matching blue drops
hanging from a black crystal flower clip. The colors tie in perfectly with the
blue dress and black trim. The dress, the hair, the jewelry—I don’t even look
like myself. I don’t even feel like myself! I feel luxurious and beautiful.

Maud stands to the side, admiring me. “You look stunning.
Any man who had you on his arm tonight would be lucky.”

“Oh, Maud!” I throw my arms around her in a big hug. “Thank
you so much! You are so good to me.”

Maud hugs me back, then slips some money into my hands.
“That is for the auction so you can try to win a little something for yourself.
Don’t worry about paying me back. It’s for charity.”

Her small gift means so much to me. She’s on a fixed income,
so I know money is tight. I lean back to look at Maud, still clasping her hands
and smile at her. I kiss her on both cheeks and she smiles back.

“Go on, get out of here. You will be late, late, for a very
important date!” She chants that all the way to the door as she ushers me out.