The Ghost in Mr. Pepper's Bed Page 7

  It didn’t take long for Ricky to appear in the front door. His shirt was half-tucked into his pants, and, as usual, there was a smug look on the pudgy face. Flies swarmed the front porch where Zeb saw the remnants of what must have been the dog’s meals simply slopped down on the concrete for the animal to consume. No water dish anywhere.

  “Come over to tell me ya caught the bastard who burned down my house?” Ricky sneered, still standing in the frame of his front door.

  “Nope, but I did come by to ask you if you have Poppy’s address or contact information.”

  The bomb of a question just hung in the heat of the fly-filled front yard. Zeb never took his eyes from Ricky’s swollen face. The bloated, fleshy cheeks quivered ever so slightly, and he gripped the handle of the door in an effort to surreptitiously steady himself.

  “I don’t have it.”

  “You don’t have any idea where your ex-wife is living? Don’t you have to pay her some sort of support?”

  Ricky rallied with the last question. “She’s the one who ran off! I didn’t owe her nothin! Poppy’s gone and I don’t give a crap where she is.”

  At the mention of Poppy, another voice sounded somewhere from the depths of the house. Soon, Melanie made her appearance. Wearing a purple tube top stretched across her corpulent bosom and tight work-out pants, she pushed through the door past Ricky saying in a cooingly sweet tone, “Did I hear you mention Poppy?”

  The real grist of the experience was about to begin. Zeb waited for it.

  “Get some clothes on, Melanie,” Ricky barked.

  “These are clothes!” she shrieked. “I gotta right to wear whatever I want.”

  “You’re not decent!” he yelled, getting red in the face. His blubbery lips protruded even more with his heated rage.

  Melanie turned her ‘Real Wives of Poultry County’ persona off and turned to Zeb, completely ignoring Ricky, and asked, “Zeb, did I hear you say something about Poppy?”

  “I’m here to let you know we’ve found a body in a pit down at The Whispering Pines RV Park. It’s a woman of about thirty years of age.”

  Zeb let the announcement sink in and continued, “I need Poppy’s contact information, and I thought Ricky might have it.”

  Melanie’s eyes became like cold steel. She straightened up, losing her typical pelvic forward posture and said, “Why don’t you go ask Ryan Houseman? He should have it. We don’t want any contact with her.”

  “So, you don’t know where she is?” Zeb pushed one more time. “Do you know how I might get a hold of her mother?”

  “No,” came the hard, firm reply from Melanie’s thin-lipped, overly made-up, crimson mouth. “Poppy’s mother’s left, and she hasn’t been back since.”

  Zeb walked over to where the dog lay and reached down to unhook the chain from the post. The dog’s tail thumped against the grass.

  “What you doin with my dog?” Ricky bellowed from his fouled front steps.

  “I’m taking this dog with me,” Zeb replied in an even, cool voice.

  “That’s my dog!” Ricky roared indignantly.

  “Not anymore, it isn’t. I’m also fining you two hundred dollars for animal cruelty. My deputies will be out here after thirty days, Ricky, if you haven’t come in and paid your fine. No more pets for you for five years. If you’re caught with one on your property, I’ll see to it you serve time. Understand?”

  Ricky and Melanie glared and slammed the front door. Zeb was relieved to be free of their company.

  “Come on, girl. I know just the person for you.”

  In less than five minutes, man and dog were making their way back to Willow Valley. A Conway Twitty song was playing on the radio, windows were down to receive the fresh springtime air and one free, happy dog was catching the breeze, tongue out and ears flapping joyfully in the wind.

  Sonya was excited to be hosting her first séance since she’d hung her shingle out to the Willow Valley community. Flowers had been brought in from her garden and thoughtfully arranged in two different vases, one for the polished cherry wood dining table and another for the glass coffee table in the living room. For a while, Willard followed her from one room to the other until he appeared to tire of her over-activity and lay down on the cushy floor pillow under the black baby grand piano.

  The lemon cream pie was chilling nicely in the vintage Frigidaire and Frank Sinatra was crooning from the record player. White, lace curtains caught the cool breeze and billowed drowsily as Willard’s eyelids drooped and finally closed. A soft snoring sound mixed with the dreamy music of Count Basie’s Orchestra, which ably supported the Chairman of the Board’s rendition of ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ that played on the old Victrola.

  Sonya swept around the room, doing a few dance steps while she used her feather duster on the furniture. It was fun to know she was going to have people in the house. Everything was ready for her guests to arrive. She’d laid out coffee cups, saucers, spoons, cream and sugar, and a stack of pretty china plates with tiny rosebuds painted around their rims for her guests to use when the pie was served.

  As she considered the chinaware, it occurred to her that maybe she’d gotten carried away. It was a séance, not a meet and greet. With sudden insight, she realized it was actually both, so with a toss of the feather duster into the slim closet in the laundry room, Sonya finished with her tidying up. Her timing was perfect because the doorbell rang, and Willard beat a quick line from his spot under the piano to the entrance alcove, barking and joyfully announcing they had company.

  Sonya peeked out of the kitchen to see who was at her front door. It was Mr. Pepper. She took off her apron, throwing it across a bar stool and quickly went through the house. Swinging the door open, she said, “Hello, Mr. Pepper. How are you?”

  There, in what must have been his best suit and carrying a handpicked bouquet of wild flowers, was a polished and well turned-out gentleman coming to call.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Caruthers,” he said, his smile reaching from ear to ear and his eyes twinkling with excitement. “I know I’m early, but I wanted to talk with you…privately.” He stretched out the hand holding the flowers toward her in a heartfelt gesture and said, “These are for you.”

  “Oh, they are lovely, Mr. Pepper,” Sonya said warmly. “Please do come in.” She stepped aside to allow him entrance, and he waited politely until she showed him into the living room.

  “Please make yourself comfortable. If you wouldn’t mind, I will add your beautiful flowers to the ones I’ve already picked and put in this vase. Is that okay with you?” she asked solicitously.

  “Please do,” he said with eager courtesy. “I think they will go together nicely.”

  After the flowers were reorganized and it was agreed that the new arrangement was even better than the first, Sonya offered Mr. Pepper some refreshment. He readily accepted. Within a short time, they were comfortably sitting down with two cups of hot coffee and a plate of shortbread cookies. Mr. Pepper finally had an opportunity to explain why he needed an early visit.

  “I’ve been giving some thought to what happened yesterday morning. At the time of the incident, I was too upset to remember details, but since then, something has come back to me.” He gave Sonya a wary look as if unsure if he should proceed.

  “Please continue. This may be of some help to me, Mr. Pepper, especially if we are going to try and contact our ghost tonight,” Sonya said encouragingly.

  “Well, I’m not sure I want to be a part of the séance, Mrs. Caruthers. In fact, I don’t know how my pastor would feel about us communing with spirits. I thought it might be helpful for you,” he gave her a shy smile, “if you knew that I heard a name called out yesterday morning and it wasn’t one I recognized.”

  Sonya was excited, but also, a bit affected by Mr. Pepper’s worry regarding ‘communing with spirits’. Taking a needed moment to think by sipping her coffee, she offered a compromise.

  “Mr. Pepper, I do understand how you feel about the séance. I
t is fine if you prefer not to be here. You know your comfort zone and I wouldn’t want to create conflict for anyone regarding their faith. I would be so grateful if you would share what you remember hearing yesterday, though.”

  This response of Sonya’s had the desired effect. Mr. Pepper appeared to relax considerably. He took a deep breath and said, “Monkey face.”

  Taken aback, Sonya said, “What?”

  “Monkey face,” Mr. Pepper repeated. “The spirit, if you will, said Monkey face.”

  “Oh!” Sonya said, much relieved, and leaned back in her seat. For a second, she thought Mr. Pepper had been calling her that. “I believe that must be a term of endearment, Mr. Pepper. Did your wife ever use it?”

  “Definitely not, I don’t like monkeys.”

  “Hmmm,” Sonya mused for a second or two. “This may be a wonderful clue. I’ll bring it up tonight at our…spirit therapy session.”

  Mr. Pepper smiled with a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “Mrs. Caruthers, it’s kind of you to try and sugarcoat it. I wanted to let you know I’m going back to New Jersey to be with my daughter.” He paused as if he wanted to say more but was unsure how to proceed.

  “Mr. Pepper? Is there something bothering you?” Sonya asked.

  He turned to face her directly. “Mrs. Caruthers, would you do me the honor of coming with me to my lodge’s dance this Friday next?” His face was a mixture of hope and fear.

  Sonya didn’t hesitate. “I would love to come with you, Mr. Pepper. I adore dancing, but I’ll have to warn you, I’ve got two left feet.”

  Mr. Pepper practically glowed with happiness. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Caruthers. I promise it will be a fun time.”

  “It’s Sonya. Please call me Sonya, Mr. Pepper.”

  “Yes, thank you and, if you will, please call me Saul,” he returned.

  “Great! We have a date then, Saul.”

  They both smiled and Mr. Pepper stood up.

  “I must be going. I hope you won’t think badly of me for not staying for your séance this evening.”

  “Absolutely not, Saul. I understand perfectly, and if we’re successful this evening, the residents of The Whispering Pines RV Park may sleep undisturbed in their beds for many years to come.”

  Sonya saw Mr. Pepper out through the front gate and waved as he drove away. It was getting late. The sun was still well above the far hills. She climbed her front steps and went inside as the evening bugs sang their song.

  Flipping on her outside lights, she hoped the path to her door would be easier for her guests to traverse with a porch light to guide them and yard lights to keep them from tripping over the pavers. Even though its source may be diverse in nature, a light that is true will always lead you to a good destination.

  Chapter 15

  It occurred to Deputy Kirchner as he parked the police vehicle in front of Dr. Dempster’s office that he’d not been to the dentist in about five years. He hoped Laney wouldn’t ask him because it would look like he didn’t take proper care of his teeth, which might be a turn-off. With a quick inspection of his smile, he took at deep, centering breath of air and let it out slowly. He was ready.

  The reception area was exactly the same as it had been when his mother brought him here. As he quickly scanned the room, he recognized the same posters of a dancing tooth with a huge toothy smile and the caption which read at the top, ‘Mr. Smiley Brushed Twice a Day’ and ‘You Should, TOO’. This was reassuring because he definitely brushed twice a day. With more confidence, he scanned the room for signs of the beautiful Laney.

  Tommy saw the top of a head behind the tall reception desk. The pretty auburn hair was pulled up into a bun with a pencil pushed through it. It must be her. His heart did a double beat. He walked up with a friendly, yet manly policeman strut and looked down at the top of the head. What he saw next made him cringe noticeably. The woman sitting at the desk had a beard. Rocked by the horror of Laney with a beard, he couldn’t focus anymore on the face that was lifting up to greet him.

  “How may I help you?” she asked nicely.

  “Laney?” his voice in his ears sounded croaky and hollow.

  “God, no!” the woman said with a bemused laugh. “I’m Percy. Laney had to step out for an hour. Her dog was seen running down Elm Street. He must have gotten loose.”

  In a flash, Deputy Kirchner realized it was a man behind the desk with his hair in a bun and bits of weird jewelry dangling off him. He laughed a bit too heartily and said, “Thank you. I need to see Dr. Dempster for a moment.”

  “Have a seat and I’ll let him know you’re here.”

  Percy, the desk person, got up from his seat revealing his lanky frame decked out in scrubs with different cartoon characters on them. His man-bun had two pieces of hair jewelry clipped into it, an enameled dragonfly and a pencil with an eraser in the shape of a skull and crossbones. He disappeared through one of the doors, leaving Tommy to find a seat and wonder at how men’s fashion became more confusing every day.

  “Come on back, Officer Kirchner,” Percy said from the door that led to the back rooms. “Doc will see you now.” As Tommy passed by him, Percy grabbed him by the arm and said in a low whisper, “Be ready, he says he’s going to take a look in your mouth. He says you haven’t been in for a while.” Percy raised his eyebrows in a gesture of mock horror. “He does this to everyone who was at one time a child patient and hasn’t been back since their mama quit making their appointments.”

  Kirchner, a bit disappointed by not seeing Laney, but also relieved the hairy-faced person was someone else, followed Percy obediently to a bright, well-equipped examination room.

  “Have a seat.” Percy pointed to the chair.

  “Umm, I don’t think I have time for this today.”

  The Deputy’s attempt to excuse himself was quickly snuffed out. Percy put one hand on his hip and, with an extremely affronted divaesque finger wave, mouthed the words, “Really?” Pointing to the seat firmly, he said in a low, no-nonsense tone, “Don’t try my last nerve. That man is driving me crazy. If he wants to look at your teeth, for the love of God, let him.”

  Percy pursed his lips and lowered his eyelids. He never lost eye contact continuing to point at the chair. Once Kirchner finally relented and dutifully sat down, Percy muttered a bit under his breath about how put out he was and put a paper napkin bib covered with cartoon animals around Tommy’s neck. The manly deputy looked down to see lions, puppies, and even a crocodile smiling up at him with captions saying things like ‘eat fruits and vegetables,’ ‘brush and floss every day,’ and ‘see the dentist twice a year.’ Tommy thought to himself those were odd things for meat eaters to say.

  “The doctor will be in soon,” Percy said, whisking out of the room in what appeared to be an exasperated huff. The Deputy sat staring mutely at another poster. This one showed a toothpaste tube drawn to look like a rocket with a caption that read, ‘Take Off for a Beautiful Smile’. It had a cartoon cat dressed like an astronaut sitting astride the tube while waving out at the viewer. There were, at least, twenty pictures hand-drawn by kids taped to the examination room’s walls. He recognized the name of one of his coworkers’ kids. Deputy Kirchner hoped that no one he knew would walk in and see him wearing the kiddy bib. This was the kind of stuff the other officers lived for.

  “Well, well, well, Mr. Kirchner or should I say Officer Kirchner?” Dr. Dempster smiled waggishly from the doorway. “Haven’t seen you in some time. How’re your mother and father?” The dentist of Tommy’s childhood hadn’t changed much. He was fit from playing golf three times a week, his hair was a little grayer, and his iconic bowtie was neatly tied around his neck. Today the tie’s fabric had golf clubs, golf balls, and golf carts.

  “They’re doing fine, sir. I came here to ask you…” but Tommy didn’t get a chance to finish. Dr. Dempster had already moved behind him and flipped on the overhead light. With a steel dental tool, he explored Tommy’s back molars.

  “Sorry, son, but I see your flos
sing is lacking in merit. When was your last cleaning?”

  Tommy tried to answer, but as anyone knows, it’s impossible to answer other than an ‘iglick kna’ which was an attempt at ‘I don’t know.’

  “We’ll set you up with Laney. She does an excellent job. Can’t get you in for about four months. You definitely need some work done in here.”

  Dr. Dempster wagged his head back and forth in a show of displeasure at Tommy’s lack of good oral hygiene care. He touched a tooth toward the back making Tommy jump and let out an, “Ow!”

  “Ah ha! You have a cavity. That’s not good. We’d better get you in before four months. I’ll try and work you in. Your parents did a good job taking care of your teeth Tommy, so don’t let all their good efforts go by the wayside.”

  Finished with his examination and the lecture, Dr. Dempster pushed away from the chair and raised it back to a normal position.

  “Okay, tell me what you’re really in here for,” he said taking the paper bib from Tommy’s neck. He went around to another chair and sat down crossing his long skinny legs revealing bright blue socks with a variety of waterfowl on them.

  “We have a female body found in a grave not far from here, over at The Whispering Pines RV Park. Female, probably around twenty-five to thirty years of age and she’s been in the ground for around a year. County forensics is doing a DNA sequence test on the teeth, which means we’ll need to check those results against files of women who went missing around that time. We’d like to have your help with your patient files.”