Death on a Deadline

dropped my voice to a whisper. “She only does it when she’s alone. So I’m trying not to leave her alone much.” The cat wiggled her head out from under my hands.
    “Oh!” Carly sat straight up in her chair. “The weirdest thing happened earlier.”
    “What?”
    “After I picked the girls up at school, they begged to go to Dairy King. I’m tellin’ you, Jen, there’s a secret ingredient in school lunches, programmed to fizzle out at exactly three o’clock. Remember how Mama used to have milk and cookies ready when we’d get off the bus? Anyway, I caved.”
    So far, so normal. My sister could never tell anything straight out. You had to drag it out of her in bits and pieces. Today was no exception. “And?”
    “When we turned onto Main Street, I had to stomp on the brakes. The place was crawling with police cars.”
    “A wreck?”
    She shook her head. “No. The whole Main Street Park was roped off with yellow tape, but for the life of me, I can’t imagine why. When I slowed down and asked the police officer directing traffic what was going on, he said. . .”—Carly tucked her chin and mimicked the deep voice—“ ‘Official police business, ma’am. Keep moving, please.’ So I kept moving. The kids were dyin’ for hot fudge sundaes anyway.”
    “That’s weird. Wonder if somebody stole the mayor’s car again? Remember a couple of years ago when those three kids took it for a joyride?”
    Carly laughed and fished a rubber band out of the little jar on my desk. “Byron was fit to be tied, wasn’t he? I saw a clip of an interview with him and Amelia on Channel 8’s Web site. The esteemed first lady of Lake View kept saying, ‘We’ve been violated.’ But the mayor was literally hopping mad.” She twisted the rubber band around her finger.
    “His temper is as big as his ego.” I stopped short of saying what we both knew. And both are considerably larger than his brain .
    “Speaking of ego, you know what? Maybe John’s dog got off its leash in the park and he used his power as police chief to commandeer the whole department to help him find it.”
    We’ve known John since the sandbox, so we never miss an opportunity to give him a hard time about his “powerful” position as police chief of our little town. But Carly’s tongue-in-cheek scenario made me think of my early morning chase. “That reminds me. . .”
    When I finished the story, she laughed. “I can see you now—holding up that billfold, trying to act normal in front of Brendan.”
    Ack. “I just remembered I didn’t get an answer when I rang the bell at the Templeton’s this morning. I meant to call later, but it’s been wild here today.”
    “So you still have his wallet?”
    “Sure do. I feel awful. Then again, if he hadn’t lost it, I wouldn’t have had to run in the rain this morning.”
    “Well, like I always say, when in doubt, blame a man.” She shot me with the rubber band.
    “Ouch.” I rubbed my arm and tucked the rubber band in my pocket. “Seriously though, I wish we knew what happened. I may swing by the park on my way home. After that I can drop Hank’s wallet off at the Monitor and kill two birds with one stone.”
    “Going by the park won’t do you any good. You know you’ll get into it with John if he catches you snooping around. Might as well watch the news and save yourself the grief.”
    Carly had the curiosity of a dishrag sometimes.
    “So are the kids adjusting to their new school?”
    “They haven’t said much.” Carly narrowed her eyes. “Why? Have you heard something?”
    Now she was curious. Guess it depended on the subject. “No. As far as I know, there haven’t been any problems. The girls seem to love it here.”
    I picked up our family picture from my desk and worried the dust off the oak frame with my finger. Sixteen-year-old Zac towered over his mom and even stood a good four inches above my five-six. How had he grown up so quickly? Suddenly I felt old. “I know Zac didn’t want to move, but he seems to be settling in. Is he still enjoying his paper route?”
    Carly shrugged. “Who knows? Sugar, I do good to get three words out of him.” A rueful grin flitted across her face. “Usually the three are Mom, I’m hungry .”
    “What did I tell you?” I smiled. “Normal teenage boy who happened to get in with the wrong crowd. You worry too much.”
    “Maybe so. I hate that he has to leave the house while it’s still dark. Try the school golf team, I said. But