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Authors: Sandy Gingras
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fit…” but I don’t. He does essentially fill up the trailer. And there’s nowhere to sit unless you consider the cot or the cardboard chair. So we stand there. “Marie Ellis reported all her whirligigs stolen and said that she saw you leaving the scene of the crime.”
I look at him. Dreamer comes up to him wagging her tail happily.
“I was just looking,” I tell him. He pats Dreamer’s head a couple times. Then he takes out his notebook.
“I stopped the car to look,” I insist.
“What were you doing driving around at that time?” he asks.
“I slept over at my uncle’s. They, um, pity me.” I gesture vaguely at my living area. We both look around at my anemic home.
“Why would I steal whirligigs?” I ask him.
He doesn’t say anything.
“This makes no sense. Was there something inside of the whirligigs?” I ask.
He shakes his head. I can tell he feels like he screwed up, like he should have searched them himself.
“I heard Ernie was a blackmailer. Maybe he kept his blackmail evidence in the whirligigs,” I say. “Or his blackmail money. Joe told me that Marie cleaned so much that there wouldn’t have been any place safe to hide anything in that little trailer.
“Did you find anything in Ernie’s room when you searched?”
He shakes his head. “What else do you know about this?” he asks me.
I clam up. There’s one thing I know. I’m not giving him any more information. It only gets me deeper in trouble.
“I don’t really know anything,” I say, “but you’re really starting to bother me.”
“Bother you?”
I say, “There’s a real murderer walking around, and you’re wasting your time on me.”
His eyes look away.
“So focus your attention on someone else,” I tell him.
Maybe it’s my imagination, but he almost looks wounded.
Chapter 14
Eight a.m.: There’s a knock on my door. It’s Joe. “Oh good,” he says when he opens the door, “I thought you might already be in jail.”
“What?”
“I heard the cops came to get you this morning.”
“Who said that?”
“It was probably just a rumor.”
“Sheesh,” I say.
“You didn’t steal the whirligigs, did you?” he looks behind me into my trailer as if there’d be a whole pile of them on my cot.
I step aside. “You want to search?”
“Nah,” he says.
“What’s that?” I say. He’s holding a laptop under his arm.
“It’s Ernie’s computer. I knew he had one. It was Ted and Fritzie’s. He bought it after Ted and Fritzie died and there was a yard sale. Marie kept it in her bread bin. She said she forgot about it. After I asked her about it, she found it. Then she called the detective and he’s coming to get it later, but she let me take it home first. I’m heading there now. I figure we have about a half an hour to look at it.”
“I’ll be right out,” I say.
He smiles. “This is a lot better than being retired,” he says.
When we get to his trailer, Joe sits down and opens it up. I stand over his shoulder. We check to see if Ernie had email. Nothing. Very lonely. We check files to see what he stored. Nothing.
We check his history. There’s a couple recipe sites that Marie’s been on. There are a couple of porn sites too: bigtits.com. That kind of thing.
“We have to look at these,” Joe tells me earnestly, “in the interest of being thorough.”
He’s right, but it’s hard to stand there while he clicks on topless women on bicycles and topless women on the beach. The women are frozen in still photography but their boobs are digitally mastered to bounce up and down. “Enough already,” I say. The top of Joe’s head is turning pink.
“Well, now we know what Ernie liked,” he says. “He wasn’t gay, that’s for sure.”
But the next site is a gay site. “How do you know?” I ask him.
“It’s blue. That’s a gay code thing. It was probably Ted and Fritzie’s,” he says. “Look at this.” He points. “That’s strange. It’s not a pornography
I look at him. Dreamer comes up to him wagging her tail happily.
“I was just looking,” I tell him. He pats Dreamer’s head a couple times. Then he takes out his notebook.
“I stopped the car to look,” I insist.
“What were you doing driving around at that time?” he asks.
“I slept over at my uncle’s. They, um, pity me.” I gesture vaguely at my living area. We both look around at my anemic home.
“Why would I steal whirligigs?” I ask him.
He doesn’t say anything.
“This makes no sense. Was there something inside of the whirligigs?” I ask.
He shakes his head. I can tell he feels like he screwed up, like he should have searched them himself.
“I heard Ernie was a blackmailer. Maybe he kept his blackmail evidence in the whirligigs,” I say. “Or his blackmail money. Joe told me that Marie cleaned so much that there wouldn’t have been any place safe to hide anything in that little trailer.
“Did you find anything in Ernie’s room when you searched?”
He shakes his head. “What else do you know about this?” he asks me.
I clam up. There’s one thing I know. I’m not giving him any more information. It only gets me deeper in trouble.
“I don’t really know anything,” I say, “but you’re really starting to bother me.”
“Bother you?”
I say, “There’s a real murderer walking around, and you’re wasting your time on me.”
His eyes look away.
“So focus your attention on someone else,” I tell him.
Maybe it’s my imagination, but he almost looks wounded.
Chapter 14
Eight a.m.: There’s a knock on my door. It’s Joe. “Oh good,” he says when he opens the door, “I thought you might already be in jail.”
“What?”
“I heard the cops came to get you this morning.”
“Who said that?”
“It was probably just a rumor.”
“Sheesh,” I say.
“You didn’t steal the whirligigs, did you?” he looks behind me into my trailer as if there’d be a whole pile of them on my cot.
I step aside. “You want to search?”
“Nah,” he says.
“What’s that?” I say. He’s holding a laptop under his arm.
“It’s Ernie’s computer. I knew he had one. It was Ted and Fritzie’s. He bought it after Ted and Fritzie died and there was a yard sale. Marie kept it in her bread bin. She said she forgot about it. After I asked her about it, she found it. Then she called the detective and he’s coming to get it later, but she let me take it home first. I’m heading there now. I figure we have about a half an hour to look at it.”
“I’ll be right out,” I say.
He smiles. “This is a lot better than being retired,” he says.
When we get to his trailer, Joe sits down and opens it up. I stand over his shoulder. We check to see if Ernie had email. Nothing. Very lonely. We check files to see what he stored. Nothing.
We check his history. There’s a couple recipe sites that Marie’s been on. There are a couple of porn sites too: bigtits.com. That kind of thing.
“We have to look at these,” Joe tells me earnestly, “in the interest of being thorough.”
He’s right, but it’s hard to stand there while he clicks on topless women on bicycles and topless women on the beach. The women are frozen in still photography but their boobs are digitally mastered to bounce up and down. “Enough already,” I say. The top of Joe’s head is turning pink.
“Well, now we know what Ernie liked,” he says. “He wasn’t gay, that’s for sure.”
But the next site is a gay site. “How do you know?” I ask him.
“It’s blue. That’s a gay code thing. It was probably Ted and Fritzie’s,” he says. “Look at this.” He points. “That’s strange. It’s not a pornography
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