Page 50 of Nothing Ever Happens Here

We all still sit solemnly around the rec room in our respective spots. Millie weeping, Herb eating a bag of Funyuns and wiping the crumbs on his pant legs, expressionless, and the rest of us just sort of staring around the room, not knowing even what to do next.

“We should tell Shelby about this…” Evan finally says from his usual seat at the computer desk. “Out of respect, before she hears it from…”

“Chipped Beef,” Herb interrupts, finishing his sentence.

“Or the news.”

“I was gonna say,” Evan adds. “Even worse.”

“I know…but I want to give her a day,” I say. “It won’t change anything if we tell her, and I think she needs a moment to catch her breath.” Everyone sort of half nods or mumbles in agreement.

“We can put a photo of the pendant on the site and ask if anyone recognizes it—saw who might have had it and could have left it there, and why?” Evan suggests. I agree and send Mort the photo I took of it lying in the snow before we picked it up.

“We’ll get it up on the site,” Mort says. And then everyone goes their separate ways, except for Millie who has fallen asleep by the fireplace hearth at this point. Evan is making calls about used cameras we can buy for the back lot, Mort and Herb disappear to their rooms, and I sit in the front window on a floral love seat nobody ever uses so it smells of dust mites, but I don’t mind today. I sip a mug of Earl Grey and watch the snow lightly fall over the two feet of snow that’s already been shoveled this week and sits in piles along the sidewalk. A couple of winter birds hop on a naked tree branch and peck at the seeds Bernie tossed out by the tree.

I think about Bernie, all of the names and clues and possibilities swirling around in my mind, until I find that it’s already dusk and I’m startled out of my thoughts when my phone buzzes. It’s Shelby.

I find Evan, Mort, and Herb on an old sofa in Herb’s room playing some shooting video game and I stand in the doorway, completely numb with the news I’ve just heard. They pause the game and turn to look at me.

“Oh God,” I cry, and I can’t help it all coming out all of a sudden. Mort comes to put his arm around me.

“Flor, what’s happened?” Herb asks, standing up, the color draining from his face.

“I got the call about Bernie. He was in that car—his car that they found. They’re calling it suicide. Carbon monoxide poisoning.” Everyone is stunned into silence a moment, and then Mort smashes his hand onto the metal TV dinner tray next to him. It causes a startling crash that makes us all jump because we’re already so rattled, and it’s also very out of character for him to make much noise or fuss at all.

“No!” Mort raises his voice. “He would never do that. No!”

“That’s what Shelby said too. She’s at the Trout. Riley’s off duty, but called to tell Mack what the coroner’s office said, and Shelby’s waiting for Clay to come pick her up because she and Mack had a few…and then she’s going to track down Riley and get answers, apparently.”

“We’ll go with her. We have questions too,” Herb says.

“Let’s hurry,” I say, and within ten minutes we are all bundled up and ready to go except for Millie who has moved, but is now asleep in the recliner in her housecoat and slippers. And of course Evan, who has promised to guard the place and whom Shelby would be quite unhappy to see at a bar rather than in the front office of the Ole where he is supposed to be, so it’s just the three of us tonight. This is our case now too.

When we pull into the parking lot, I also see Riley and his wife walking from their car up to the door.That’s unexpected. He’s off duty, clearly, wearing slacks and a tie. She’s in heels and a peacoat, and he helps her balance over icy pavement and inside.

By the time we get our old bones to the front door and go in I see Clay too, standing across the room next to Mack and Shelby, who is gesturing wildly, no doubt telling him more about what’s happened. But besides that, the place is as one would expect. A few couples dancing on the parquet square of flooring in front of the jukebox, a few playing pool, people chatting at tables. Clearly, the somber news isn’t common knowledge yet.

Shelby sees Riley before she notices us, and it only takes a moment to see her face contort and her loss of balance as she tries to get herself off the bar stool. Clay makes a futile attempt to hold her back but lets her go…she’s drunk and he’s helpless to stop her without making a scene. I can see that from here, and in under five seconds, she meets Riley smack-dab in the middle of the bar. The three of us shuffle over to the table directly behind Shelby to listen.

“Oh. Shelby, hello there,” Riley says after Belinda has sat herself at a table and he’s accosted by Shelby on his way up to the bar.

“What’s going on? What shit are you pulling?” she hisses at him. I glance at Mack and Clay who can’t hear the exchange, but also don’t take their eyes off of her.

“Ah, I’m not sure what you mean, but let’s talk about it at the station tomorrow. It’s not the place. I’m sorry about Bernie—I didn’t want to have to tell…”

“Do you pay people off? Or is it you doing all of this? None of it adds up. All this shit keeps happening and you do nothing.Nothing!” People are starting to look now. I make a general gesture with my hand like “it’s okay” to nobody in particular and a few turn away,but a scene is beginning and I don’t think there’s any stopping it.

“Shelby. You’ve had a few drinks. I think you should let me get by, and we’ll discuss this at an appropriate time.”

“Suicide?Are you kidding? We know the Oleander’s has been attacked by some maniac and that Bernie’s pendant was placed for us to find like a threat—you know there was a call to his phone from an unknown caller and that he didn’t drive. How are you accepting this?Anyof this?” Now pretty much everyone is looking and hushing their voices. Clay walks over to Shelby and tries to gently take her by the elbow, but she pushes him away.

“He was depressed, by all accounts, and found in the driver’s seat backed into a snowbank to push the carbon monoxide into the car. Nobody else was there,” Riley says in a forced whisper, and Shelby is visibly flustered. Then she fishes her old cell phone from her pocket and holds it up in the air.

“Then explain this!” Now the place is almost silent except for the song playing from the jukebox. “This is my lost phone, and guess where it was found? Inyour house. My residents found it when they were interviewing you. Explain that!”

“Shelby, I beg you,” Clay says quietly behind her. Riley gives him a tight smile. A “control your wife” smile, but he doesn’t say this. He looks back to Shelby and says: “Let’s talk about this at the station tomorrow.”

“No. Goddamn it! Who knows if I’ll be alive tomorrow, for fuck’s sake. Someone is trying to kill me and what are you doing? Why did you have my phone?” He looks stunned and she looks around and addresses everyone gawking at them. “He stole my phone, everyone. Why? You should all be terrified that the detective never has any clues, but shit keeps happening and now my missing phone is found in his couch cushions! Don’t you want answers?”

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