The Trouble with Tulip (48 page)

Danny had a feeling that something was wrong. Much to the chief's dismay, he excused himself from the table right in the middle of a reporter's question. Then he made his way through the room and outside, where he dialed Jo's cell.

Her phone rang a number of times but she never picked up. Danny ran to his car, a sense of desperation suddenly overwhelming him.

He decided to start with his own house because that's where Jo was headed with the dog. Driving as quickly as he could, he made his way through town, running a few stop signs along the way.

When he finally got there, he screeched to a stop in his own driveway and ran inside.

The dog wasn't there.

Jo ran to the door of the garage and peeked out, shocked to see Keith only about ten steps way. She was trapped.

Moving quickly, she dragged the hose to the door, stretching it across the bottom where she might be able to make him trip.

Sure enough, as he opened the door and stepped inside, his feet were caught on the tangled rubber. He moved quickly, however, reaching for Jo and bringing her down with him as he fell.

“Thought you could escape, did you?” he spewed.

She scrambled away from him, trapped in the front corner of the garage. Now she had really done it.

He managed to stand, pulling out the gun and pointing it at her. With the other hand, he pressed some buttons on the phone then set it on the ground and slid it in her direction.

“Now, just press the call button,” he commanded, trying to catch his breath. “Tell Dr. Langley that you need the notes you gave him and that your good friend Dr. Keith McMann will be stopping by in just a little while to pick them up.”

Hands shaking, Jo took the phone and pressed the button. Listening as it dialed, her mind raced. She knew that as soon as the call was over, she was as good as dead.

“Hello?” the professor said.

“Dr. Langley? It's Jo Tulip,” she said, trying to keep her voice from trembling. “I need to ask you something.”

“Sure,” he replied. “What can I do for you?”

“You know those notes you looked through for me? The ones you said were just a bunch of junk? I-I need to get those back.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, Jo,” he said. “After we talked, I threw them away. I thought that's what you wanted me to do.”

Jo's mind raced, her heart pumping furiously.

“Super,” she replied, glancing at Keith. “Listen, could I send someone to get them right now?”

The professor was quiet for a moment.

“Didn't you hear what I said?” he asked. “I threw them away.”

“Excellent,” she replied. “I can't get over there right now, so I'm going to send someone else, my good friend Dr. Keith McMann. Do you know him?”

“Keith McMann? From the history department? Of course I know him, but I'm telling you, Jo, I don't have those notes.”

“Okay, hold on,” she said. She looked up at Keith. “He wants to talk to you.”

She handed him the phone. She hoped he would be distracted enough by the confused professor on the other end of the line that she would be able to get away.

Unfortunately, before speaking into the phone, Keith stepped closer and held the gun directly at her head.

Again, she was trapped.

Working backward, Danny drove to Edna Pratt's house a few blocks away. Relief flooded through him as he spotted Jo's car in the driveway. But the relief turned to confusion when he found that the car was running and the door was open, but Jo was nowhere to be found. He reached inside and turned off the ignition, a prayer for her safety stuck somewhere in his throat.

“Hello, Bob? Keith McMann here.”

Jo watched his face as he listened to what was being said. Glancing around desperately, she looked at the nearby cardboard box, the one where he had gotten the hose. Jo thought the box was otherwise empty, but in the bottom she could see a few empty packs of lemon Kool-aid and a bottle of oven cleaner.

God bless Marie. She had left these items here after getting the stains off the driveway.

Taking a deep breath, Jo rolled away from the gun, knowing it was time to go for broke since she was about to die anyway. She reached the box and grabbed the oven cleaner. Spinning around, she saw that Keith was right behind her.

With a deep, guttural yell she let him have it, right in the eyes: a long, solid spray of Oven Off.

He screamed and dropped the phone, grabbing at his face.

“Call the police, Dr. Langley!” Jo screamed. “Send them to Weeping Willow Way!”

Then she ran from the garage. Adrenaline pumping, her intention was to scoop up Chewie and carry him all the way to her car. He only weighed 50 pounds or so. She could do it.

But when she came out of the garage, Chewie was gone.

Danny hung up with the police, who said they were sending a car right over to investigate the strange disappearance of Jo Tulip. He was just slipping the phone back into his pocket when he saw movement from up the street.

“Chewie?” Danny cried.

The dog was coming toward him, but he was walking strangely, weaving back and forth, falling down and getting up again. Danny wanted to run to him and help, but his first thought was rabies. He froze, not knowing what to do.

Suddenly, a figure appeared in the darkness on the road behind the dog, also coming in this direction. It was Jo!

“Danny!” she hollered. “Start your car!”

Without hesitating, he did as she said. He jumped in and started it up and drove to her on the road. She was hysterical, sobbing, saying something about Keith McMann coming after them with a gun.

Together, they lifted the dog into the backseat, but before they could get back in the car themselves, a gunshot rang out, striking the vehicle directly on the front bumper.

“Go! Go!” Jo said.

On the road in front of them stood Keith McMann, a gun in his hand, his face shiny with some sort of white foam.

They jumped into the car and Danny slammed it into reverse, pressing the gas pedal all the way to the floor. He steered the best he could backward, spinning out in a driveway so he could take off again, forward this time. Another shot rang out, shattering the windshield, and then suddenly, one police car whizzed past, and then another.

Danny drove to the end of the street, screeching to a stop once he thought they were safe enough to see what was happening. He climbed out of the car, listening at the shouts of the police. Soon, from what he could tell, they had apprehended McMann without more gunfire.

Everyone was safe.

Danny looked again at Jo, but she had climbed into the back and was cradling Chewie's head in her lap.

“What's wrong with him?” Danny asked.

“He was poisoned,” she said, crying. “Please, Danny, take us to a veterinarian. I can't lose him. He's my second-best friend in the world.”

31

D
anny sat at the kitchen table, drinking his morning coffee and looking out across the yard toward Jo's house. He had seen her cutting through earlier with her backpack and her Rollerblades, but even when she stopped to put a note in the gnome, he didn't come out and tell her he was awake. Once she was gone, he had retrieved the note, which said, simply, “Chewie's doing okay. Still at the vet. Went Rollerblading.”

They had taken the dog to the emergency veterinary clinic last night, where his stomach was pumped and he was intubated. The doctors had been quite confident that he had already seen the worst of it, but they wanted to keep him there until this afternoon, just in case. They said there should be no lingering effects.

From there, Jo and Danny had gone, once again, to the police station. If they had been heroes before, they were positively stars now. After they had given their statements, the press corps had come out in full, interviewing Jo about how she solved the mystery of who killed Edna and how she had made her escape. The morning's headlines had a field day with that one: “Household Tip Expert Discovers New Use for Oven Cleaner.”

Danny had been so impressed with Jo last night as she spoke to the interviewers. She was poised and beautiful, and as the police chief watched from the sidelines, Jo made sure to give him full credit for everything he had done in this case and more.

“It makes me feel so safe,” she had said, “to live in a community like Mulberry Glen. We have a top-notch police department, led by a very talented and hardworking man, Chief Harvey Cooper.”