Chapter 11

  I needed to find Paloma, I couldn’t very well barge in backstage, I’m afraid the actors might call security instantly. So I just waited for the first person to emerge from the stage and lied.

  “Hi Oliver, sent me to find Paloma. Do you have any idea where she might be?”

  “Yeah the Morris Dancer Troupe had some kind of wardrobe malfunction, so she is probably over at the other stage still. I’ve never seen you before, are you new?”

  “Yes, Yes I am. Thanks for the help, it is much appreciated.”

  So I hurried to the smaller stage while texting Willow about the change of venues. There was no security to be seen at the small stage so I had no trouble slipping behind the outdoor stage. There was a small trailer back here. I guessed that it might be a changing room. I don’t want to question Paloma in front of a bunch of half naked Morris dancers. So I stand patiently outside. I reason that she’ll have to fix the costume fast, the dancers have a schedule to maintain maybe a safety pin or two, the real repair will likely have to wait until the dance set is complete.

  I don’t think it was much more than five minutes before the first of the dancers emerged from the trailer. The others quickly followed suit. They quickly walked up the steps to the stage and disappeared. As I began to move toward the trailer, Paloma appeared in the doorway.

  “You.” she said.

  “Yes, me. Why did you lie and say you were from London? Did you lie about Chicago, too?”

  “I didn’t lie, you complimented my London accent and then you assumed. You know what happens when you assume, don’t you?”

  “Are you a five year old? So have you been to Chicago, say around nineteen sixty eight?”

  “No, I told you that I have never been to Chicago.

  “Okay where were you Friday morning between six and nine am.”

  “What is this a quiz?”

  “Just answer the question, and I’ll leave you alone, if you can prove it.”

  “Fine, you are a pest. Usually I step on bugs but this will be even easier and cleaner on my shoes.” She laughed at her own crummy joke. ”I was at Cup of Mud writing my memoirs. ‘A Life With a Traveling Company’. Just ask the Barista, I’m standing there waiting until they open at six and I stay until nine thirty. Every morning since we got here has been the exact same routine. Go ask if you like.”

  ***

  I had no doubt that she was telling the truth, it would be a very bad thing to lie about because it would be so easy to check. If you were going to lie you’d say I was in bed like any reasonable person is at that hour of the day. So I had hit yet another dead end. We have like three hours left, the only person I haven’t cleared is Phoebe. It’s great that her friend has so much faith in her but. I want to hear from Phoebe’s own lips, if she is extorting Pappy. We also need a contingency plan at this point.

  The festival was at least as crowded as it had been yesterday and Artist’s Alley seemed even more crowded. Probably because I knew just where I wanted to go and was walking at a pace. While the shoppers were strolling to see just what there was to see. It was annoying, I’m pretty sure that Carla is holding something back. I texted Willow that I was on my way back to the fortunetelling tent. That Paloma was not the droid we were looking for. She texted back a ?. I replied it was a Star Wars joke. She informed me she was a Trekkie like her father before her.

  She had seen the first three Star War movies and liked them but never warmed to them like the Star Trek tv series. I texted her to find out if she had a Tribble. She texted me a picture of herself as a little girl hugging one to her chest. I texted her back that I actually preferred Star Trek but we have to acknowledge that if Star Wars wasn’t the huge hit that it was in the seventies there might not have been a Star Trek Movie.

  ***

  I found Pappy standing outside Carla’s tent.

  “Pappy, I need to find out Phoebe’s trailer location, I need to speak to her. Has Carla’s client been in there a long time?”

  “Yes Laura, at least twenty minutes. Almost the whole time you were gone actually. We had only been talking alone for about ten minutes before this client showed up. Boy I can’t believe the March Hare is here in Woodstock. She was as big a deal to us as any of the leaders. It’s really great to see her again."

  The tent flap opened and a smiling lady walked out. So I walked in.

  “You must have given her a good fortune, Carla, she was all smiles.”

  “Laura, you give everyone a good fortune, dummy. You think people want to pay you to tell them their life is going to suck?”

  “No I wouldn’t suppose that they would. Look I really need to talk to Phoebe, would you please tell me where her trailer is parked?”

  “It wasn’t Paloma huh?”

  “No Paloma was at the Cup of Mud writing her memoirs.”

  “I didn’t know that she got so much action that she had to write a book about it. God I hope Trump isn’t in it. I’d never be able to look her in the face again."

  “I need to speak to Phoebe. Can you tell Pappy and I where her trailer is located?”

  “Only if you bring Bobby with you.”

  “I will, I promise.”

  “Alright there is a public parking lot, right down the road, right across from the Outpost, the music club.”

  “Yep, I saw it on the way in. They let her live in the public parking lot like that?”

  “Well I don’t think that they know she’s living there. It all depends how much of a mess the leak made in the parking lot whether they find out or not.”

  “Thanks, Carla, are you ready Pappy?”

  “Carla, stop down to the junkyard before you leave alright. I’ll fix you a nice home cooked meal and we can relax and catch up.”

  “That sounds great Bobby, I’ll be down tomorrow morning.”

  Bobby/Pappy and I walked down to the public parking lot that Carla had told us about. I saw Phoebe sitting on the steps of a trailer two doors were open and there was water everywhere, around the trailer. She looked bedraggled and depressed.

  She looked startled when we approached.

  “Little Bobby, well it’s about time you came to see me and look at me, I’m a mess and you have a new lady friend who you brought along, you old smoothie. Hi Laura, how are you?”

  “Cinnamon, I never thought I’d see you again. Have you been here all week?”

  “Yeah, didn’t you get my note? I saw you walk past Friday morning, but I had just come out of the shower so I was naked as a bluejay. People are more uptight about nudity these days so I had to get dressed before I could look for you. By the time I was dressed and outside you were gone. When I asked the locals about you and your dog, they said your name was Pappy and you lived at the salvage yard. So I walked down to see if you were home. You weren’t so I left you a note. When you didn’t come looking for me, I figured you had moved on with your life and didn’t want to see some girl from the past, you old welcher.”

  “Of course I would have wanted to see you. You don’t know how many times I have thought about you over the years, Cinnamon.”

  “Wait” I said, “Aren’t you trying to extort Pappy?”

  “No, Laura, why would you believe that?”

  “The note said ‘You know what you did…. Pay up in forty eight hours… tell the world. CM? Carla Marchand?”

  “Bobby and I had a bet about Pigasus. Tell her Bobby.”

  “That’s right, I’d forgotten. We made a bet about whether the pigs would catch the Pigasus.”

  “Exactly, Bobby, I said no way, Pigasus was way smarter than the cops. You bet they would catch him. Well you lost the bet and then you welched on the breakfast date. I gave you forty eight hours to make good on the bet. But you didn't, so now I’m going to tell everyone that will listen that Bobby Cazzy is a Welcher.”

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  Pappy started laughing. I was still standing there kinda shocked. I had just spent the past two days desperately trying to keep Pappy out of prison, when this was about a missed breakfast date fifty six years ago. I spent the whole weekend not drinking because of a stupid dream, then to add insult to injury the ‘crime’ I’d attempted to solve was a crime of passion.

  “But wait, you still haven’t explained why you tried to pin the whole thing on Carla?”

  “Laura, I didn’t try to pin it on anybody. My name when Bobby and I knew each other was Cinnamon Myst. Bobby gave me the name. He said I smelled like a cinnamon bun and mystery. But then I never saw you again Bobby, why did you ditch me?”

  “I didn’t ditch you Cinnamon, I was arrested and then escaped. I ran, because there were so many cops, I thought I’d get beat and arrested again. I ran as far and as fast as I could from Chicago. I thought I had a target on my back, and if I asked you to come with me, you would too. So I just bolted, I expected to get caught. The first year, every time I saw a cop, I thought they had come for me and were going to send me back to Chicago. But they never came for me. It seemed that the United States government had forgotten about me. So I did my best to forget too.”

  “How did you wind up here in Woodstock, Bobby?”

  “It was the music festival, I was in Virginia and I didn’t like it. It was too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter. So I started hitchhiking about a week before the festival. Some hippies picked me up outside of Washington. We made it almost a mile from here before their van broke down, me and the dude pushed the van, while his old lady steered and slammed on the brakes every once and a while because she thought it was funny as hell. We pushed it to a junkyard, the two that owned it wanted to just abandon it. I pointed out that it would make the biggest and the worst kind of litter. The junkyard guy, he asked what was wrong with it. We told him we had no idea. So he tells the chick to try and start it. She does and nothing happens. He takes a hammer and wacks the starter. So now the engine turns over but it still won’t start. But I can smell the gas. He pointed out the part we needed, told me where in the junkyard to find the car and told me to get the part. He handed me two crescent wrenches, one large and one small. I was sixteen, I got the part, replaced the part and got a job and a place to live all within the span of about three hours. After I fixed the van we drove to Bethel for the concert. After the concert was over, I walked back to Woodstock and I’ve been here ever since. But what happened here to your trailer? Did your hot water tank spring a leak?”

  “It sprang a flood and the flood ruined my power inverter which means I have neither water nor power nor heat, at least it’s summer and I don’t need the heat. But I think I’ll just drive it to your place and leave it there. It was nice while it lasted but I can’t afford to fix it.”

  “Well lucky for you, you know a junkyard mechanic. You cook breakfast for dinner for three and I’ll get your trailer fixed up. Then we’ll finally have that date.”

  “Breakfast for three, your new girl, here.” Cinnamon pointed at me, “She’s going to join us is she?”

  “No, it’s just going to be you, me and Fred. Fred always has what I’m having even if it’s just beans. But you don’t want to be around the two of us for long after a meal made of beans.”

  “I can imagine,” she said. “In that case, beans are off the table, because I’d like to hang around and get to know what else you have been up to over the past fifty six years.”

  I was beginning to feel like a third wheel. So I started inching towards the doorway. But Pappy, saw me out of the corner of his eye.

  “Laura, I don’t know what I would have done, if you hadn't been here. I might have tried to take off again with Fred. I really don’t know.”

  “But you had nothing to worry about, it would have all worked out fine, if I hadn’t done a thing.”

  “No Laura, it wouldn’t have worked out fine. If you hadn’t tried to figure this out, at the very least Fred and I would have gone camping this weekend to avoid being arrested. So I never would have found Cinnamon again without you. So if you ever need a car part, all you need to do is ask.”

  “Pappy, I still owe you books for the rear window, so just tell Willow what you would like and you’ll have them the next day. Phoebe, it was really nice meeting you. I’m really sorry I didn’t get to take your class.”

  “So Laura, you thought someone was trying to extort Pappy, and you thought I was a suspect?”

  “Yes, I considered every person over seventy in the Renaissance Festival. So I’m sorry but yes I did. But I really like you and I hoped that it wasn’t you. If that is any consolation.”

  “So your offer to come and teach a class at your store was just bait? Do you even have a store, or was that an undercover op you were running on me?”

  “No I definitely have a store, I gave you my card, my real card and I’d love it if you'd come and give a couple classes some weekend. Just give me a couple of weeks notice so I can advertise to my customers and writers that you are coming. I want to edit a free e-book about how to protest safely and effectively. I’m trying to talk Pappy and Carla to write something, another yippie would make the book even more special. Along with the protesting advice, I also want to include a chapter on the yippies, who knew more about protesting, while having fun doing it. So many people think that just because the subject is deadly serious, like the federal government murdering American citizens. In broad daylight while they are being filmed, and believing that they can just get away with it. The way to counter that is to show what the feds are doing is ridiculous, from the lowliest ICE grunt all the way to the pig president currently ruling the country with an iron fist. Make fun of them mercilessly. They are not royalty, they are not even acting presidential. You have to wonder if Trump doesn’t have dementia, from those rants he posts on social media. If he was my grandfather, I’d take away his phone. Maybe give him a gameboy or a nerf bow and arrow so he doesn’t hurt himself. Anyway, I want to fight back economically, if every liberal in America stopped doing business with the tech bros who are funding this slum lord and cut their overall spending five to ten percent. Well I don’t want to go on yet another rant about this. But I definitely want to do a book. Please come to Lake Placid. Please bring Pappy and Fred, lots of great trails for a dog and wonderful fall foliage.”

  So I snuck out of the trailer, when they started looking all mooneyed over each other again and I texted Amy, Anais and Willow, that it was all over and that it was all good. If they wanted to meet in the festival tavern, I’d fill them all in on the details.

  Everyone got to have a beer except for me, pretty soon I was going to have to drive the three of us home. I got my free tonic water, I was sticking as much as possible to a cashless summer as possible. I really could use a beer, I’m going to have to listen to Anais complain about my car and driving the whole way home. But I held strong and drank my tonic water.

  “So you are telling me that note wasn’t extortion, but some kind of weird yippie love note. Thank god these people aren’t in charge of the country.”

  “Yes, Anais and we both know, even Pigasus would do a better job as commander and chief then dumpy trumpy. At least Pigasus wouldn’t threaten to attack his allies, that’s military strategy number one. I guess dumpy trumpy took a skip day with his old buddy Jeffy Epstein.”

  “But Pappy is okay?”

  “Yes Willow, he’s fine, if anything I’d say that he was really happy to see her again."

  “Laura, you don’t think that he’ll take off and follow the Renaissance Festival do you.”

  “No, I doubt that very much honey. I did invite them both and Fred to Lake Placid in the fall so she can teach some classes and he and Fred can go hiking. You are always welcome Willow. You are family now, so anything you need, we three are there for you. Right?” I turned to Amy and Anais.

  “Of course, we are, I thought that went without saying. But I am happy to say it, we are family now. We’ve been through two cases together and we solved them both. Also no human traffickers this time around and no murders. I hate murders, so I don’t want to solve murder cases. Let’s take a vote: the Eriksson detective agency will never take murder cases. The worst we will go is attempted murder and that has to have extenuating circumstances, like it happened on the grounds or one of our own was the target. Or someone we know was falsely accused, or one of us is falsely accused.”

  “We don’t have a detective agency, Amy and we couldn't. I am pretty sure you need a license to be a private detective and I just want to work at the store and edit a free e-book on safe protesting.”

  “But investigating is fun and it helps the people we care about. Pappy couldn’t have hired a private investigator, neither could Faith, they didn’t have any money. Is it only people who have money that deserve someone investigating for them, someone who is on their side. If I get arrested for murder are you not going to find the real culprit, you are not going to just let me rot in prison so you have more time to read, are you, Laura?”

  “No Amy, naturally if you were in trouble I would do anything I could, you know that. Additionally I didn’t say anything about reading, I said work at the store and edit an e-book.”

  Anais piped in, “We all know that work at the store is just code for reading in the book nook. Your intern does all the work. So Amy has a valid point. I think it was that stupid dream you had that said you were drinking too much. Maybe you should quit drinking when you are dead. Until then the occasional beer isn’t going to kill you nor make you a noir detective. No matter what some weird character in your dream tells you.”

  “Yes Anais, fine but I have to drive home so I’ll start drinking again tomorrow. I’ll have a beer for breakfast if it will make you happy. So Willow you talked about wanting in on the publishing business. What do you say we work together on the Protest ebook, which reminds me. I need to run down to get Carla’s email address, I think it would be so cool if those three yippies participated.”

  ***

  So I hurried down the path through Artist’s Alley, the crowd was dwindling and the festival was almost over for another year. It had been quite a lot of fun even with the pressure of the investigation. The temperature was also easing a little with the sun no longer overhead beating down on the spectators. I could see that Carla’s tent was closed. She must have a last minute customer looking to hear all about their good fortune that was sure to arrive soon.

  The thought had just passed through my mind, when a woman stepped from the tent. A big smile upon her face. It made me think of that Yes lyric. ‘Smile upon her face, Caesar's palace, morning glory, silly human race’. Yes we are silly, but as long as we are alive we can struggle to uphold our core beliefs.

  “I knew you’d be back.”

  “Well you are a fortune teller.”

  “Very funny bookseller. So what can I help you with now? Did you solve your mystery?”

  “No, well maybe. I did narrow it down to the right person, I just had the wrong motive, assigned. So strictly as a fortune teller, do those two kids have a chance in this crazy world?”

  “I don’t know Sam Spade, you're the PI what do your instincts tell you.”

  “They don’t, I know what I hope for, but just because we want something to be true, doesn’t make it true. Let’s just say that I have hope for them.”

  “That’s why I didn’t call security when you accused me of extortion. I could see the hope that you wanted to solve the case. Not for your fee, or glory. You really cared that ‘Pappy’ was alright. He might never have had a family, but strangely he has a granddaughter. They never taught us that in biology. That found family is just as important, maybe even more important than real family.”

  “You could have ‘solved the mystery’ when I accused you of extortion. Why didn’t you?”

  “Yes, Phoebe told me that she had seen Bobby and left him a note. Then you came in knowing all of my history, I put two and two together.”

  “So Carla, why not tell Bobby when he was here.”

  “I thought that for them to have the best possible chance, chaos would serve best. People always look at chaos as a bad thing but chaos can be glorious. So I let the little old lady of chaos bring them together, that’s called serendipity. It worked for Cusack and Beckinsale.”

  “But Beckinsale thought that was fate.”

  “Just because she thought something doesn’t make it true. Isn’t that what you told me Laura? Serendipity isn’t fate, serendipity is good fortune, unexpected good fortune. Fate is boring, serendipity is fun. While the yippies were a thing serendipity ruled. But fate that is what happens to the yippies, the ideals of ten thousand don’t mean much to the other hundreds of millions of Americans who had to get up and go to work in the morning. So why did you come back?”

  “Two reasons, first I need your email address. Maybe your essay could be on the yippies, serendipity and fun. Second, I'd like to invite you to Lake Placid for Halloween. You can set up a tent or work in the store depending on the weather.