Read Online Calamity Jayne Goes to College by Kathleen Bacus - Free Book Online
Authors: Kathleen Bacus
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late," I told her.
"If the trailer's rockin' don't come knockin'," she warned with a wink.
I shook my head. The image she'd brought to mind was only marginally more appealing than that of the naked dead guy with the
dented skull I'd seen earlier that day. If the trailer was rockin,' later tonight, this little horse soldier was gonna be
in full retreat.
Frankie picked me up some twenty minutes later. He was driving his uncle Frank's Suburban, which gets about three yards to
the gallon. Uncle Frank's a big guy and he likes his transportation substantial and roomy.
"Where's your car?" I asked.
"Repair shop," he said. I nodded, familiar with the concept.
"So, what exactly is the plan?" I asked. "Shouldn't we alert the campus police to the situation? Make them aware of the possibility
that they have some psycho nut job acting out Iowa Criminal Code 101 on the Carson College campus?"
He looked at me. "Sure. We could do that. But what evidence do we really have beyond our own speculation? You think the campus
cops are gonna buy in to our theory? Just remember how hard it was to get highly credentialed law enforcement officials to
take you seriously when you told them your 'there's a murderer right here in good ol' Grandville' story. As I recall, you
said they looked at you like you'd just told them you'd found Elvis in the trunk of your car."
I hated to admit it, but Frankie did have a point. I'd had about as much credibility with the cops as Dusty Cadwallader did,
who regularly calls in reports of UFOs in the night sky and strange lights in the woods just beyond his house. The cops had
even taken wagers on when I'd next find myself in hot water with local officials, the fiends.
"Plus these campus cops probably don't have the level of expertise your county and state officers have. Getting them to believe
our 'crimes and how to commit them' scenario may be more difficult than it was getting the local yokels to take you seriously."
Huh. In his quest for his destiny, Frankie was becoming an insensitive doofus.
"So we just conduct campus surveillance and hope we luck out?" I asked. "I dunno, Frankie. I'd feel better if we gave the
campus police a chance to at least consider what we have to say," I told him. I'd still get my story, but at less personal
risk to various body parts. Mucho appealing.
Frankie shrugged. "It's not like I can stop you," he said.
"Good." I smiled. "We're in agreement, then. First, we fill in campus police so they can issue a red alert to the student
body. Then we convince them to let us patrol with their units. Then we'll be there for the big takedown." I had it all worked
out. We'd let the campus cops conduct the risky business, and I'd be there to grab the story, make the grade, and get the
glory.
Worked for me.
By the time we picked Dixie up at her apartment, it was nearly eight and beginning to get dark.
She opened the front car door, saw me, shut it, and climbed into the back. We headed for campus.
"Have I got news for you!" she said, sliding across the seat to poke her head up between Frankie and me in the front.
"You're running away to join the circus?" I guessed. "Dixie Daggett, the human cannonball! Your parents must be so proud."
"Funny. Leno should be, like, so worried," she replied. "As a matter of fact, I was going through my list of classmates and
got a hit on one!"
I turned to look at her. I'd totally forgotten about my own list. Some investigative reporter.
"Are you kidding?" Frankie almost ran off the road. "We need details!"
"When I Googled Keith Gardner, he came up on the Iowa Sex Offender Registry!" she said with a "top that, Tressa" look.
I thought about it and shrugged. I had nothing.
"A sex offender? That's fantastic news!" Frankie said. "Way to go, Dix!" He reached over and high-fived Dixie, and I stared
at them both. Something was seriously wrong with a relationship where the couple got their jollies by discovering a sexual
"If the trailer's rockin' don't come knockin'," she warned with a wink.
I shook my head. The image she'd brought to mind was only marginally more appealing than that of the naked dead guy with the
dented skull I'd seen earlier that day. If the trailer was rockin,' later tonight, this little horse soldier was gonna be
in full retreat.
Frankie picked me up some twenty minutes later. He was driving his uncle Frank's Suburban, which gets about three yards to
the gallon. Uncle Frank's a big guy and he likes his transportation substantial and roomy.
"Where's your car?" I asked.
"Repair shop," he said. I nodded, familiar with the concept.
"So, what exactly is the plan?" I asked. "Shouldn't we alert the campus police to the situation? Make them aware of the possibility
that they have some psycho nut job acting out Iowa Criminal Code 101 on the Carson College campus?"
He looked at me. "Sure. We could do that. But what evidence do we really have beyond our own speculation? You think the campus
cops are gonna buy in to our theory? Just remember how hard it was to get highly credentialed law enforcement officials to
take you seriously when you told them your 'there's a murderer right here in good ol' Grandville' story. As I recall, you
said they looked at you like you'd just told them you'd found Elvis in the trunk of your car."
I hated to admit it, but Frankie did have a point. I'd had about as much credibility with the cops as Dusty Cadwallader did,
who regularly calls in reports of UFOs in the night sky and strange lights in the woods just beyond his house. The cops had
even taken wagers on when I'd next find myself in hot water with local officials, the fiends.
"Plus these campus cops probably don't have the level of expertise your county and state officers have. Getting them to believe
our 'crimes and how to commit them' scenario may be more difficult than it was getting the local yokels to take you seriously."
Huh. In his quest for his destiny, Frankie was becoming an insensitive doofus.
"So we just conduct campus surveillance and hope we luck out?" I asked. "I dunno, Frankie. I'd feel better if we gave the
campus police a chance to at least consider what we have to say," I told him. I'd still get my story, but at less personal
risk to various body parts. Mucho appealing.
Frankie shrugged. "It's not like I can stop you," he said.
"Good." I smiled. "We're in agreement, then. First, we fill in campus police so they can issue a red alert to the student
body. Then we convince them to let us patrol with their units. Then we'll be there for the big takedown." I had it all worked
out. We'd let the campus cops conduct the risky business, and I'd be there to grab the story, make the grade, and get the
glory.
Worked for me.
By the time we picked Dixie up at her apartment, it was nearly eight and beginning to get dark.
She opened the front car door, saw me, shut it, and climbed into the back. We headed for campus.
"Have I got news for you!" she said, sliding across the seat to poke her head up between Frankie and me in the front.
"You're running away to join the circus?" I guessed. "Dixie Daggett, the human cannonball! Your parents must be so proud."
"Funny. Leno should be, like, so worried," she replied. "As a matter of fact, I was going through my list of classmates and
got a hit on one!"
I turned to look at her. I'd totally forgotten about my own list. Some investigative reporter.
"Are you kidding?" Frankie almost ran off the road. "We need details!"
"When I Googled Keith Gardner, he came up on the Iowa Sex Offender Registry!" she said with a "top that, Tressa" look.
I thought about it and shrugged. I had nothing.
"A sex offender? That's fantastic news!" Frankie said. "Way to go, Dix!" He reached over and high-fived Dixie, and I stared
at them both. Something was seriously wrong with a relationship where the couple got their jollies by discovering a sexual
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