Chapter 10: Facts and the Faceless

“This definitely feels like a rookie mistake on your part,” Johanna commented. With the light on, she could see Jake clench his hand around the broken-off door handle.

“You’re the reason that we’re in this mess,” Jake replied. “You insisted we search for the moans.”

“Me? You’re the famous detective. I’m merely the more renowned internet sensation.”

“Great. Besides Phinn being pissed, Sanger can’t know what happened. I’ll have to call Zelda.” Jake mumbled, sliding his hand into his pocket. Finding his right pocket empty, the junior investigator groaned when he discovered the same thing with the left side. “That does it. I left my phone by the microfilm reader. Hey!”

“Yep, nothing here but all Magnum flesh,” the sassy influencer announced, squeezing Jake’s butt through his back pockets.

“Stop that!”

“Give me Zelda’s number, and I’ll call her. What? You don’t know it? I guess I’ll have to look up the library’s number to call the front desk,” Johanna responded.

“No, don’t do that! Sanger’s at the circulation desk. Phinn’s already banned from here for the month; I can’t get the same fate,” Jake explained.

“Well, does Mr. Sociable know her phone number?”

“Yeah, Phinn does, but he can’t learn what happened here until we get out,” Jake stated.

“Too late. I sent him a text.”

“You did what?!”

“And he’s sent one…Wow, I didn’t think I could feel a disappointed sigh through a text message, but your buddy proved it could be done.”

“Dammit,” the stocky sleuth muttered, leaning back against one of the shelves.

“What are you doing? You’re just giving up? At least, try to get us out of here,” Johanna ordered. “Maybe if we hurry, we can catch the fiend.”

“What’s the point? I can’t do much but kick the door down, which will certainly get noticed by the head librarian. We’ll just have to wait for help to arrive. Unless you have a better idea.”

With dramatic flair, the chestnut-haired influencer pretended to trip over a box on the floor. Her arms flailed gracefully in the air while she fell backward. The planned move collided her back into Jake’s chest. The worried athlete grabbed his classmate, concerned she might get injured, which could only add to his problems with the head librarian. He did so by wrapping his muscular arms around her flat stomach.

“Oh, my gosh, Jake! You saved me!” the poor actress declared, gasping in relief while bringing the back of her hand to her forehead. Looking over her shoulder, she added, “I didn’t see that box at all.”

“It’s no big deal. You’re fine…” Jake trailed off once he felt the motion begin. “What are you doing?”

Only a giggle responded while Johanna dipped her body up and down at first. However, it didn’t take long before she shifted to rocking herself back and forth in Jake’s arms. It also didn’t take a junior investigator to figure out her purpose.

“You’re not a heavyweight or anything, but, um, maybe we should find you a safer place to stand,” the blond-haired young man suggested, moving his arms until his hands lightly hovered against her hips.

Silence met his suggestion. Only the hum of the lights above and the distant murmur of the library could be heard. Then, Johanna began to lightly grind her butt back into his groin, causing Jake’s blue eyes to widen. The pressure worked as intended, as his cock started to harden with only two thin pairs of shorts between their bodies.

Suddenly, the air felt charged with palpable tension. The young brunette, who rubbed herself against his tented shorts, began to breathe heavily and erratically. Jake's breathing wasn't much steadier, as each breath brought the scent of Johanna's sweet perfume into his nostrils, adding to the seductive fog growing in the increasingly warm storeroom.

“Johanna, you need to stop.”

“Stop what? I’m only working to find a snug, safe spot until help arrives,” the scheming influencer said. While she played dumb with her words, Johanna tilted her head slightly to let Jake see the coy smile playing on her lips.

Then, the flirty brunette’s blue eyes danced with a playful spark before she reached over to grab a shelf with her right hand. Gripping the metal rack, she took a deliberate step backward to ground her backside into Jake.

“I think I found a comfy spot.”

Jake’s face turned a deep shade of red while his gaze flickered around the room as if searching for an escape. Despite his desire to break off the contact, the usually proactive football player found himself paralyzed. At some point, he’d placed his hands firmly against Johanna’s hips, but now they felt glued to the spot.

“We should...We should probably figure out how to get out of here," Jake suggested, his voice hoarse. “Just in case Zelda doesn’t get Phinn’s message.”

“Why, Jake, are you nervous about a little…friction?” the influencer asked, her voice a low purr. She’d felt the tremor in Jake’s hands, and it delighted her.

The seductress punctuated her question by pushing her firm behind directly into Jake’s manhood forcefully. The contact sent a jolt of pressure through both their bodies while Johanna let out a long, loud moan.

“It…It’s getting hot in here. We should really get out,” Jake stated, wiping his now-sweating brow.

“But I think I found a way to pass the time. It’s a large way,” the brunette replied in a sultry whisper.

The jingling of the doorknob as a key attempted to enter the lock saved Jake from making what he knew would be a huge mistake.

“Dammit!” a voice exclaimed from the other side. “Jake, are you in there?”

“Y-Yeah, we’re in here, Zelda,” Jake called out, his voice a little too loud because of the tension he felt.

“The lock is jammed or something. I’m going to have to get help,” the assistant head librarian announced.

“D-Don’t let Ms. Sanger f-find out,” Jake stammered, due to Johanna not letting up with her grinding.

“Am I an idiot? Wait, are you okay in there? You sound weird.”

“You'd better hurry, Ms. Imhoff! I’ve discovered that being trapped turns Jake into a horny version of the Hulk. I’m worried about my purity,” Johanna yelled.

“Me? You’re the one grinding her ass up against me!” Jake shot back, attempting to push her away, but the surprisingly strong influencer wedged her feet somewhere out of his sightline.

“Never a duh moment, huh?” Zelda chuckled. “Oh, you better behave. I just found help. Oh, Elvin! Can you help me for a moment?” Zelda called out to a passerby for help.

Jake and Johanna heard Zelda explain a version of the problem to Elvin. Figuring her fun was over, the brunette stepped away from a relieved Jake.

“Who’s Elvin?” she whispered. “Another librarian?”

“No, he’s a local history buff. A retired guy who often volunteers around here,” Jake explained.

Nodding, Johanna’s attention flipped back toward the broken door, where the remaining portion of the lock rattled slightly. A few moments later, it fell forward on the other side of the door, leaving a small circle of light to shine inside the storeroom. Then, several fingers reached inside the open circle to use it as a new handle.

“Well, I’ll be! Howdy, Jake,” Elvin greeted, surprised to find somebody inside the storeroom. In his hand, he held a Swiss Army knife with the screwdriver portion sticking out.

“Right, sorry. I forgot to mention that they were inside. Um, maybe we should keep this part from Gertie, okay?” Zelda suggested.

“Ah, you boys on another mystery investigation? Elvin questioned, chuckling as he didn’t really take their adventures seriously.

“Somewhat,” Jake replied, letting Johanna exit the storeroom first.

“Lock sure was jammed up. Almost seemed like it was done on purpose,” Elvin mused, checking out the piece he held in his hand.

“Thanks for the help. I’ll contact maintenance to replace the lock and handles,” Zelda told the retired volunteer.

“Nonsense. I can deal with this. No need for maintenance to send someone over here,” Elvin insisted, already entering the storeroom to check on the issue from the other side.

“Okay, kids. What did you need help with?” Zelda hinted, motioning them to return to Microfiche Land. Once inside the room, she whacked Jake on the arm. “Did you sneak in there for a quickie?”

“No! Somebody tricked us with moans. They must have been hiding in the other storeroom and shoved Johanna into me before slamming the door shut. The handle immediately fell off when I grabbed it,” Jake recounted, causing the librarian’s eyes to narrow.

Since she arrived six years ago, Zelda Imhoff, the recently appointed assistant head librarian, has often provided plenty of assistance to the young crime solvers. A quirky, sassy woman, Zelda stood out with her long, slightly curled, dark red hair, green eyes, a rotating assortment of colorful-rimmed eyeglasses, and a nice pair of medium-to-large breasts. Often a co-conspirator with their shenanigans, the ginger nodded in acceptance of his tale.

“I didn’t see or hear anything, but I was busy with Jimenez’s summer school class,” Zelda stated, looking around the room. “Nothing seems amiss. What about the microfilm you were reading?”

Jake hurried over to the desk and the reader. The screen appeared to be in the same spot as when he left, but the bored sleuth couldn’t be a hundred percent certain.

“It looks the same,” Jake said, picking up his phone. He planned to message Phinn, yet slipped his phone into his pocket after Johanna had already finished doing so.

“And you,” Zelda said, turning to face the influencer. “I thought you weren’t dating one of my boys.”

“I’m not. Jake schemed his way out of our date.”

“The one that you negotiated behind my back with Phinn!” Jake pointed out.

“Oh, was this from your help in the pirate thing?” Zelda inquired.

“It was, but I cut a different deal for exclusive early access to the celebrities down in Lumlow for the last case. I only had to give up my date with Jakey,” Johanna explained.

“Only?!”

“Nice! Getting the early scoop can’t be replaced. Plus, you can also negotiate with Phineas for a new date with Jake at any time,” Zelda praised.

“Precisely my thought.”

“Hey, no, no, no! There will be no more cutting deals about my life without me involved,” Jake declared.

“Oh, Jakey, sweetie, you’re just lucky that Dusty isn’t here,” the red-haired librarian reminded sympathetically. “Speaking of rewards from that pirate case, thank you again for the lingerie, Mr. Magnum.”

“Uh, no problem,” Jake replied, swallowing hard as the flirty librarian ran her hand along his biceps before moving onto his chest.

“But you didn’t actually find the treasure, which was part of the deal,” Zelda purred into his ear while moving behind the stunned sleuth.

“Jake bought you lingerie?” Johanna asked with a surprised yet intrigued expression.

“Both of my boys bought it together, but Jake here is the one I promised to model it for someday,” Zelda continued her merciless teasing by running a finger along Jake’s neck. “Let’s not forget to save the date, huh, Jakey?”

“Um, yeah, okay,” the junior investigator mumbled, wondering what the hell was happening.

“Excellent,” the sultry librarian whispered before catching Johanna’s eye and winking. Suddenly, Jake jumped as Zelda clapped her hands together. “Okay, let's see what you found already compared to what I discovered.”

Jake and Johanna returned to Madison Avenue in the late afternoon. The rummage sale around the neighborhood was still going strong, with cars taking most of the street parking and decent-sized crowds in the driveways. Parking around the corner and down the road, they had to walk a few blocks to get to Jake's home.

“About damn time. I’m out of here,” Libby announced upon noticing her brother’s return. “You can help until it ends or Dad gets home.”

Finished, the elder Magnum sibling walked down the driveway to head who knows where. Shaking his head, Jake asked Phinn if his sister was still upset over the possibility of another bug inside the house.

“No, Libby’s pissed because she found the bug,” Phinn revealed, handing change to a customer who looked rattled at the conversation. “Don’t worry, ma’am. This is from my home, not his. It’s infestation-free.”

“Dude, why did you say that?” Jake questioned once the woman left. “Now, people might talk.”

“Better they think your house needs an exterminator rather than know somebody planted listening devices inside our homes. That would generate far more gossip,” Phinn explained. “And your sister found it in precisely the same location where I found mine: the kitchen light.”

“Shit. Do you think there might be more?”

“Doubtful. They only planted two in my house, but I’ll do a check later,” Phinn reassured. “Oh, you also need to call Corky and tell him to stop by for a few minutes.”

“Why can’t you call him?”

“Because he used up his allotted time to be around me, according to his mom,” Phinn reminded. “I scanned the new picture on your parents’ computer. So I want to have Corky drop off the original at our usual spot for safekeeping. Also, I emailed and messaged it to you.”

“Alright,” Jake said, taking out his phone. “Crap. The battery died. I’ll call Corky from the house line.”

As Jake went inside his house, Johanna plopped down onto the seat next to Phinn.

“How’s business. Mr. Moneymaker?” the influencer quipped.

“Decent. I keep hoping somebody will buy a bunch of crap all at once, so I don’t need to do this for the whole week,” Phinn grumbled.

Jake returned almost five minutes later with the news that Corky would be over shortly to run the errand. Johanna whipped out her notebook while Jake scrambled to pull out several loose pieces of paper to report what they learned at the library.

“Veronica Barrett was born in 1949 in Edgewater,” Johanna began, listing several pieces of biographical data about her youth, schooling, and parents. “Veronica won the Miss Paddle Pageant in 1968 at the age of nineteen. It was her initial entry into the Waterfest event, and accounts state that she wowed the judges and audience during the swimsuit portion.”

“She looked damn good in the pictures we found of the pageant,” Jake noted, grinning.

“Three years later, in 1971, she married Dell Strecker. Correction: Dell was thirteen years older than Veronica, not fifteen,” Johanna clarified.

“Close enough to still speculate that the age difference might have played a role in their marital discord,” Phinn remarked.

“Yeah, we didn’t find anything on her husband’s philandering, but the Edgewater Dispatch’s society pages didn’t cover that type of information back then.”

“No, I learned you need to read between the lines. Certain reporters often hinted at what the paper couldn’t print out of decorum,” Phinn replied to the influencer.

Johanna left it to Jake to fill Phinn in about Dell’s various real estate deals, construction projects, and financial scandals.

“From what we could find, Veronica divorced Dell at some point before his trial. The date is not listed, nor is the divorce officially listed in the usual section. However, articles from the trial indicate that she moved to Blueview,” Jake finished.

“That’s fine. We’ll have the opportunity to ask her for details in person,” Phinn noted. “Now, let’s hear about Miss von Essen.”

“Mimi von Essen was born in 1953,” Johanna began, listing similar background details to those she reported on about Veronica Strecker. “This girl was a regular winner of everything: cheer captain, homecoming queen, and prom queen. She went on to win Miss Paddle in 1971, at the age of eighteen. Apparently, she killed the talent portion with her singing.”

“Jeez, you should see how many times Mimi’s in the society page afterward,” Jake said, shaking his head in awe.

“I told you that she became the city’s It Girl,” Johanna shot back. Then, she spent the next fifteen minutes rattling off all the social events that Mimi von Essen took part in. The mesmerizing young woman participated in other pageants around the country for fun. She usually finished as the first runner-up, with the Dispatch hinting she lost due to favoritism for the local contestant. At one point even took a Hollywood screen test as a lark.

“It sounded like her father wasn’t pleased with this period of her life,” Jake remarked. “Reading between the lines, her engagement to Claiborne was met more with relief that it finally happened.”

“Yes, the engagement to Crispin Claiborne was announced in the winter of 1974,” Johanna revealed, taking back over. “It lasted until the summer of 1976. It sounds like by that point, the broken engagement wasn’t shocking, but it disappointed many people.”

“Mimi died the next year,” Jake reported. “Reports were iffy about how and why. The medical examiner listed the cause of **** as an overdose of prescription pills. However, Franz von Essen had an independent autopsy conducted that questioned the cause of ****. Also, conflicting stories by Franz von Essen's friends implied that it was accidental, not intentional, which later articles dismiss entirely.”

“Her father muddied the waters. The only question is if he did it to protect his daughter’s reputation or his own,” Phinn pointed out. “Anything else?”

“I made a list of women that Mimi seemed to be friends with or acquainted with. Perhaps you can talk to anyone who might still be around,” Johanna revealed, showing the page in her notebook with the names.

“Isn’t that something. Excellent investigatory instincts, Zay,” Phinn praised while shooting a look at Jake.

“Don’t give me that look. She tried things on me in the storeroom. Rubbing things,” Jake revealed, causing Phinn to nod. Zelda already sent him that bit of information. “So are we going to visit Mrs. Strecker after the sale finishes today?”

“That’s the plan. Hopefully, she’ll be finished with dinner by then. I recall the residents often ate around the same time from when Great-Aunt Phillippa lived there,” Phinn recalled.

“Whoa! You can’t show up in the evening. Don’t you know anything about the elderly?” Johanna challenged. “You need to talk to them in the morning while they have energy. The best time is around nine. That way they had their breakfast and aren’t starting to get hungry for lunch.”

“So you’re an expert?” Jake questioned.

"Yes, I am. I've interviewed many of them for my projects," Johanna shot back. "Also, you can't send in the two of you. You'll need a cover story, like I'm writing an article about her time as a Miss Paddle."

“Hmm, you might have a point,” Phinn acknowledged. “With Waterfest in a few weeks, it’s a solid reason for appearing at her home.”

“I’m not going anywhere else with her! I don’t feel safe,” Jake declared, covering his groin.

“Excuse me? It didn’t feel like you shriveled up in fright.”

“I’ll go. I want to interview her personally,” Phinn stated. “Jake, you’ll have to man the sale with Corky tomorrow morning.” Catching his friend's frown, he added, “We’ll find somebody to give you a hand, okay?”

“Fine.”

“Wonderful! I’ll be outside at precisely 8:35. That should allow us plenty of time to drive, park, and find Veronica’s unit,” Johanna announced, causing Phinn to groan.

A minor scraping sound outside of Phinn’s window brought him out of his focus. Yawning, he took off his glasses to rub his eyes before checking the time on his alarm clock. 11:57. Usually, the nite owl wouldn’t be this tired around midnight, but Corky did wake him up shortly after 7:30 this morning.

Downing the last of his root beer, Phinn mulled over his work. He'd spent the last few hours reviewing the list of possible friends for Mimi von Essen that Johanna had provided. He'd recognized two of them immediately, but it took time to figure out who the others might have married to know their current names. Then he needed to search online for obituaries or find out whether they were still living in Edgewater. Fortunately, some of the women still had ties to charitable organizations or PTA groups, or made appearances at the annual Miss Paddle pageant.

Suddenly, Phinn realized another scraping sound had come from the window. Glancing over at the second-story window, the high school sleuth watched as a couple of pebbles bounced off the glass pane. Automatically grabbing his phone, Phinn rose from his desk chair and walked over to the window.

“The fuck?” Phinn muttered.

Down in his backyard, a darkly dressed figure stood on his lawn. Although it was hard to tell in the partially shaded backyard, the large figure appeared to be wearing a light-colored mask—perhaps a pale yellow. Although not a fan of horror films, Phinn thought the Halloween-style mask matched the one used by the killer in the Silent Strangle slasher series.

Whether it was the same mask or not, the appearance of a brutish figure wearing a creepy mask while standing in the middle of the lawn with its head tilted up to stare at Phinn’s bedroom window was unsettling enough. With barely a flick of his eyes down at his side, Phinn typed a one-handed message to Jake.

Down in the backyard, Masked Creep cocked his head slightly to the side. Or at least Phinn assumed the masked person to be a man. The dark clothes were baggy enough to hide any possible curves, but the arms sure looked muscular.

“Ain’t this some shit?” Phinn mumbled to himself.

Okay, this is clearly an attempt at intimidation. The question is, should I be concerned or should I be freaked out? Well, I’m not going to stay silent and duck under the covers to hide. I’m alone, so I need to address this directly.

With the air conditioning on, Phinn had to unlock the window before pushing it up as far as it would go. Leaning his arms on the windowsill, Phinn raised his phone to take several unaimed pictures of Masked Creep while he looked out the window screen.

“Hello, there,” Phinn greeted. “Would you care to tell me your name, or what you’re doing in the middle of my backyard at midnight?”

Masked Creep didn't reply or budge. Instead, he continued to stare up at the teenager.

“Not too talkative, huh? I’m going to assume that you didn’t wander in here from the park by accident. So, that means you know my name and what I do,” Phinn said, watching as the masked man gave the barest of nods. “Ah, well, you interrupted my research for a case, but thanks. I need to head to bed anyway, and your appearance reminded me of that. However, you should probably leave before my parents wake up.”

Masked Creep slowly shook his head before raising his finger and wagging it.

Well, this is only getting more disturbing. He knows that I’m home alone.

“I see you’re well-informed. However, I’m not the kind who gets terrified. Instead, I’m going to go to bed,” Phinn announced. “You’re welcome to try to come inside. But I should warn you that this house is booby-trapped up the ass. And I have an old friend who’s an expert at traps, so these aren’t the run-of-the-mill type. No, my old partner has a devious mind. Yet, if you want to lose a limb or appendage, give it a shot.”

Phinn waited for a reaction, but none came. The creep continued to stare up at him.

“Okay, good night,” the sleuth said with a slight wave before shutting the window and pulling down the blinds.

Finished, Phinn immediately dove to the floor just to be safe. Calling Jake's number, he left a frustrated voicemail while crawling over to his bedroom door. Rising up on his knees, Phinn flicked off the light switch.

“Alright, I need to find a weapon or two,” Phinn said aloud, grabbing his flashlight from the nightstand.

Dropping back to his knees, he slowly turned his doorknob to peek out into the hallway in both directions. Satisfied that nobody lurked nearby, Phinn quietly pulled his door shut behind him while heading in the direction of his brother’s room. Slipping inside, Phinn cursed his mother’s justified paranoia about Putnam for once. Without a lock on his door, Phinn grabbed his younger brother’s desk chair to prop under the doorknob.

“Alright, Pug definitely has weapons in here, even if only fireworks.”

Using his flashlight sparingly, Phinn pointed at the floor while moving over to his brother’s dresser. Fully aware of his brother’s primary hiding spots, Phinn found stockpiles of candy and fireworks hidden on the underside of the bottom drawers.

“Jesus, Pug, are you planning to blow up a building?” Phinn questioned, shaking his head at the selection of M-80s, M-100s, and M-1000s. “Mom needs to get you back in to see a therapist again.”

Still, Phinn’s concern over his little brother’s plans didn’t stop him from grabbing a few of each just in case he needed them. Pausing his search, the teen detective listened for any sounds in his house before he sent Jake another message about the masked man.

Shuffling across Putnam’s floor, Phinn opened the closet door. Moving aside the messy junk, the older brother found Pug’s so-called hidey-hole. Fool. A loose floorboard in the closet is something that even Mom would think of.

“What the…Damn, Pug,” Phinn commented, pulling out a folded crossbow from the secret hiding spot. Next, he reached down to pull a box of crossbow bolts. “I don’t know why you have this, but it will work.”

Pulling the sides apart, Phinn figured out how to use the crossbow within seconds. Grabbing the box of bolts, he moved over to hide behind the other side of his brother’s room, next to the dresser.

Why does a thirteen-year-old need this thing? He better not be shooting little critters, or I’m going to have him committed, Phinn vowed.

Sending Jake yet another message, Phinn prepared for a long night of waiting.

“I’m finally getting around to ordering that damn taser tomorrow,” he muttered to himself.