I headed over to Ela's Diner for dessert and information. Unfortunately, a small crowd followed me.
"I need a table for one," I told a bored, gum-cracking waitress.
"Three," Betty said.
"Four," added Kurt.
"What do you mean?" Stewie asked. "There's six of us!"
Which is how I ended up sharing my table with two Girl Scouts, a bounty hunter, and two druids. It sounds like the foundation of a joke, even though I couldn't come up with a punchline at the moment.
"What'll ya have?" A pretty, young waitress came over and smiled. Her nametag read Ela.
"Desserts," I said, pointing to Stewie. "He's buying, so bring him the check."
Stewie started to protest.
"It's because you outed me as Beetle Dork," I said.
"Oh. That." He nodded at the waitress. "I'll take the check."
Mike stared at him, mouth open.
"What?" Stewie snapped.
"You've never paid the check for anything! At cons, you always 'forget your wallet.' Last week, you had me gas up the hearse! In fact, you always have someone else fill up the hearse!"
Kurt's eyes grew wide as, for the first time since running into the guys at Elrond's, he realized that he was sitting with Kayla's cult members. "You guys know Kayla?" he asked, in case there was more than one cult in Who's There.
"Duh," Mike said. "And then there was that time at Area 51, when you tricked Heather into paying for your lunch."
Stewie wasn't listening. His ears perked up at the prospect of a possible recruit. "That's right. Kayla is a member of our sect. Are you interested in joining?"
Kurt thought about it. "How often do you guys meet?"
"We practically live at the Chapel of Despair," Mike groused.
I studied Kurt's reaction to the location, but he didn't seem to recognize the name of the place.
"Because it's awesome!" Stewie squealed.
Kurt and Stewie fell into a conversation about the merits of membership.
Ela brought over menus, and we divvied them up.
"What do you recommend?" I repeated the question I'd asked earlier. A familiar aroma wafted from the kitchen. "Hey, is that meatloaf?"
Ela beamed. "Best meatloaf in the state!"
"It smells like the meatloaf I had for lunch at Ella's." I pointed across the street to make my point.
Ela sighed. "That would be just like her to steal our recipe!"
"She stole your meatloaf recipe?" Betty asked. "I can help you with security. Do you have any heavy logs that could swing out of your kitchen?"
"I don't know how she did it." Ela ignored the girl, which was for the best. "Well, she doesn't have the recipe for my triple-chocolate cheesecake!"
"I'll have that," I spoke up.
Around the table, everyone asked for the same thing. Ela collected the menus we hadn't even looked at and left.
"It's so weird," I mumbled.
Kurt looked at me curiously.
"You have two tattoo shops with the same name and theme of Lance Armstrong art. You have two cafes, across the street from each other, named Ella's Diner…"
"Ela and Ella," he corrected. "They're totally spelled differently."
"What is it about Bladdersly?"
He shrugged. "I guess I never really thought about it before."
I pressed him. "Why not? It's such a strange thing. It kind of stands out."
Kurt seemed a bit defensive. "I don't know. I guess it doesn't stand out to us."
"And you hardly have enough business to support these places and The Opera House." As soon as I said it, I wondered how could I overlook something so bizarre?
Bladdersly was a ridiculous town. That was a given. But the businesses on this street went beyond simply quirky.
"Remember the police report?" Betty said. "Tyson went to juvie for burglarizing these places."
I hoped Kurt didn't pick up on Betty saying she'd seen the police report. "Which gives them motive to want to punish him," I said. "But enough to kill him?"
"I think Vanderzee did it," Stewie said.
Mike nodded in agreement but said nothing.
"And then there's Boats of the Midwest," I mused.
"That book really made people mad," Kurt said. "Lots of people were on the warpath wondering who'd written it."
Ela came over with a platter and dropped off six slices of triple-chocolate cheesecake. There was a reverent six minutes of silence as we ate.
"Maybe Tyson wrote it?" Inez asked. "What's it about?"
I was proud of Inez for coming up with a very valid idea. Maybe I was rubbing off on these girls. I was like a role model—a little more like Wonder Woman and a little less like Bird Goddess of the Cult of NicoDerm.
"Scandals." Kurt shoved his plate away. "Whoever wrote it seemed to know an awful lot about the people around here."
I wondered. "If Tyson wrote it and people were mad, anyone might have killed him."
Kurt suggested, "Or they might have killed him for robbing them."
I sighed heavily. "That just opens up the suspect pool to more suspects."
"But Vanderzee was driving through the alley at the right time with someone in the car with him," Stewie said. "He could've killed Tyson."
"Yes, but why?" I pressed.
"Because he was in the book?" Stewie suggested.
I really needed to do an in-depth reading of Boats.
"Because he robbed the police station?" Betty added her thoughts.
Kurt nodded. "There's a crooked cop in the book. And a scandal about someone named Bella, who seems an awful lot like Ella. But then again, there's dirt on half the town in that book, so it could be anyone."
I pushed my empty plate toward the center of the table. "Who would be most likely to kill over that? I mean, the cat's out of the bag, so they wouldn't be shutting him up."
Inez said, "Revenge."
"That's good too," Betty agreed.
To his credit, Stewie paid the bill. I discovered that Inez and Betty had been dropped off by Inez's mother, so I gave the girls a ride back, followed, as ever, by Kurt. Mike and Stewie went back to Elrond's for reasons they didn't explain. Maybe Stewie was going to give Elrond a pitch to become a druid.
I walked in the door of my house stuffed from a heavy lunch of meatloaf and potatoes, topped off with cheesecake. In the dining room, Philby was again sitting, staring at Rufus, but she seemed hairier for some reason.
"Philby?" I asked.
The cat slowly turned to face me. She was wearing the beard from my disguise at The Dew Drop Inn. There must've been some spirit gum still stuck on it. And it fit her perfectly. I didn't wear it that well.
"It's so you," I said as I scratched her head. "Does the beard intimidate the frog?"
Rufus stared at me and swallowed. I guess not. Philby gave me an irritated look.
"I don't get it. Why don't you try to be friends? I'm not going to let you eat him, and you're never going to get into that terrarium. So what's the point?"
At that moment, Leonard bounded into the room, racing over to me to pepper my hands with kisses. That was odd. The deerhound was never in the same room as Philby. She tormented the poor guy.
"Ah," I said to Leonard. "Because she's working so hard to annoy the frog, she doesn't have time to torture you."
Leonard barked happily. Philby ignored him. Martini, Philby's daughter, jumped up onto the table. After I gave her a quick scratch, she flopped onto her back, legs akimbo, and passed out. A total narcoleptic, Martini slept more than the usual amount. The vet said there was nothing wrong with her, besides the ability to pass out anywhere.
Philby turned back to the frog, staring more intently than ever. Maybe this was a good thing. After all, the cat…
The cat. It hit me with a cartoon boing. Effie. I needed to solve the Effie puzzle. There was so much to this case, what with the scandalous book, thefts, murder, and kidnapping. I hadn't had time to think about Effie the cat.
A pang of guilt hit me. I also hadn't spent much time thinking of Pastor Malone. He was my witness—the one who'd nailed me and had the potential to free me. I called Riley. He answered on the first ring.
"Wrath," he said. "Any news?"
"I was hoping you had something. Especially on Malone."
Riley sighed. "I've listened on the police bands. They have no idea where he is or if he's still alive. There's been no ransom request."
I needed hope. I needed to believe that Malone was alright and would set things straight. "Do you think he did a runner? When he realized that he didn't know the person he'd declared to be the killer — maybe he figured out who the real killer was. It's possible he's afraid of the real killer."
"At this point?" he asked. "I don't have any leads but lots of questions. I'm leaning toward the idea that the killer kidnapped him to keep him from talking. This is one convoluted case."
I filled him in on what happened at Elrond's and Kurt's mentioning the book.
"Do you have Boats of the Midwest?" Riley asked.
"Yeah. I'm going to go through it again. I really like the idea that Vanderzee is behind this."
Riley laughed. "Just because he hates you."
"A girl can dream, right?"
"Do you want me to read through Boats?" he offered. "To save some time?"
"No, but I do have some footage from a security camera I'd like you to go over." A text popped up on my cell. "I've got to go. My attorney wants to touch base. I'll have Betty email you the footage."
We hung up, and I called Jane.
"Hey, Merry," she said. "I just wanted to check in. I don't have anything new, but from what I understand, neither do the police."
I let out a breath. "Well, that seems like good news."
"Not really," she admitted. "Vanderzee has asked a judge to move your trial up early."
"How early?" I asked warily.
"Way too early for my comfort," the attorney said. "They think that they have enough to push it through."
"That can't be right," I protested. "They don't have their star witness. If the witness is missing and can't testify against me, what case can they have?"
Jane's voice was soothing and calm. She really was an amazing attorney. I made a silent vow to use her for all future issues, hoping that I wouldn't need her.
"They're going to push through using his sworn statement," Jane said. "It's highly unusual, and I have a strong case for fighting it. They also have the phone call, but I think I can get around it too."
I thought for a moment. "That all sounds good. Why do I get the feeling you are still apprehensive?"
"Because the judge agreed that you'd be tried locally. Merry, the trial will take place in Bladdersly."
Considering that everyone from Bladdersly kept repeating the lie that I'd killed Tyson, that did not look good.
I had to move fast.