Ornamental Danger: a holiday short story (Working Stiff Mysteries) Read Free

Queen meant making decisions that no one else wanted to make and wearing an awful costume that looked something like Big Bird if he were to turn pink, bathe in glitter, and go through a significant amount of molting.
    In other words, it was torture. And, since my high school nemesis, who'd made it her mission to try to drive me back out of town since I'd driven my 1963 Buick Skylark back across county lines, was heading up the committee this year—I was given the great honor of serving as this year's queen. The sole judge of this year's home decorations contest. The sole victim of the townsfolk's bribery and potential scorn. And the sole loser who would be paraded around town in faux-honor.
    I parked my car at the house and slammed the door behind me. "Don't worry, Stella, I won't let them decorate you and embarrass you on Main Street. They'll just have to use another convertible to carry me around the city in shame." I ran my hand along the sleek red hood of the car that my father had affectionately named all those many years ago.
    I entered the house from the side door that opened into the kitchen. I closed it behind me and shut my eyes for a moment as I leaned against the wall. Enjoying the silence for just a beat or two until a loud yawn combined with a growl announced the arrival of Pickles, my sister's gigantic dog.
    I cracked open one eye and observed him in a full two paw stretch in front of me, a large string of drool hanging from his thick tongue and nearly reaching the floor. "Did you have a nice day, boy?"
    He whined a little and then gave a glance over his shoulder as if to remind me that his food bowl was waiting.
    "Hungry, huh?"
    He whined again and then padded over to me and nuzzled my kneecap with his snout. Obviously, I wasn't moving fast enough.
    "Okay. I get it." I left my backdoor back support and dropped my purse on the table. I bent down to reach inside the pantry and extracted a large container of dry dog food and a can of something moist and smelly—his favorite. I mixed the two together and filled his bowl. To his delight, he set to work vacuuming the bowl at record speed. Eating was the only thing he did quickly.
    "Hey, Mand!" My sibling's voice startled me. I spun around to see my sixteen-year-old sister behind me. She was wearing white denim cut off shorts and a University of Alabama T-shirt. Her long hair was split into two braids.
    "What are you doing here, Paget?" I knew that she was supposed to be with Ms. Lanier and suddenly became concerned that something may have happened to our neighbor-turned-cat-door-breacher. After our morning find at Ms. Strength's house, there was a new fear in my heart.
    "Oh, Sundae came over to do my hair. Isn't it scrumptious?"
    I smiled and then stepped forward to run my fingers down one tightly wound braid. Paget grinned widely. She was happy. It was a hit and miss thing with her. After being diagnosed at an early age with a high-functioning form of autism, there was no sure way to know whether you'd find her happy, sad, frustrated, or even missing from day to day.
    Of course, the disappearance episodes had become fewer and farther between since she'd been on a new schedule over the past few months. I'd worked hard to get her on this schedule, and with friends to help me, we were taking things one successful day to the next.
    "It is scrumptious, Paget. Where is Sundae?"
    "Oh, she's in the bathroom. She'll be right out." Paget smiled at me again and then turned and twirled down the hallway and back to her room.
    The sound of feet clickity-clacking down the hardwood flooring of our hallway alerted me to the arrival of Sundae Giddings—my new friend and favorite haphazard hairdresser. She gave me a dimpled-smiled greeting as she sailed into the kitchen.
    "Don't say it." I precluded her comments about the current state of my hair.
    She dropped her smile and seemed to consider her words carefully. "I wasn't going to say anything about that ."
    I turned my head to