Chapter 2: Boredom at the Morgue

“Where to?” Jake asked the following day when Phineas settled into the passenger seat.

Phinn performed a hissed double-take upon sitting in the boiling sedan. He always waited at least five minutes before joining his friend as the old car lacked air conditioning, and the heater took a while to warm up.

Living next door to each other on Madison Avenue in an older neighborhood on the northeast side of town, the two homes had their driveways located side-by-side. However, Jake usually parked his car on the street, so Phinn used that as an excuse to wait for the interior’s temperature to adjust.

“Head toward downtown, Jeeves,” the bespectacled teen joked, pointing in the direction. “Take 64th Street.”

“You need to get your license one of these days,” Jake grumbled. He occasionally felt embarrassed for his friend about his inability to drive.

“We have a potential case. Cheer up!” Phinn ordered. It wasn’t usual for him to be the chipper half of their duo. “What’s the matter? Didn’t your date go well?”

“I’m exhausted,” Jake admitted, sagging toward the steering wheel. “I don’t know if I’ve seen a girl as pent-up as Trina Bintz.”

“Trina Bintz,” Phinn rolled the name over his tongue as if unsure about its familiarity.

“You know her. A year older than us. Talkative and flirty. She graduated a couple of weeks ago,” Jake said, attempting to jog his friend’s memory while they stopped at the intersection outside their old elementary school.

“Ah, yes. The annoying girl with the big boobs, who thinks everyone needs to hear her opinions,” the taciturn teen recalled, almost as if he’d found her name and picture in his mental copy of their yearbook. “I’d say you have a type, but any attractive female fits it. Wait, hasn’t she been dating Kevin Armstrong for some time?”

“Two years,” Jake relayed about his ex-teammate. “Neither wanted a long-distance relationship when they started college. However, Trina decided she wanted to spread her wings this last summer, so they broke up two months earlier than planned.”

“More like spread her legs,” Phinn mumbled before raising his voice. “And she picked you for the honor?”

“Trina said she’d heard good things about me. I guess I have a reputation,” Jake admitted proudly.

“You do have one,” Phinn pointed out, failing to mention what he thought of it.

“Yessiree, Trina wants to let loose before the summer ends. I got me a hot double date tonight.”

“With two girls?” Phineas exclaimed in disbelief.

“Nah. Luke’s going with as her best friend’s date. We’re hitting up the old drive-in theater. Word is that it might close this fall,” Jake relayed, worried about one of his favorite makeout spots disappearing. His father often complained about the decline of the drive-in movie theater.

“That’s been the rumor every year for the last decade. W.R. Reynolds isn’t selling the property. He loves the attention he gets when people beg him not to tear it down,” Phinn stated, scoffing at the threat. “In good news, my mom did not see the news last night about the diver. Dad saw it but didn’t put two and two together.”

“There wasn’t much. Channel 5 only had a mix of videos from people’s phones. We weren’t in them. I’m not sure why the others didn't have anything. Maybe the local news is just slow picking it up,” Jake reported, gesturing at another driver who cut them off. “You’d figure Channel 23 would jump at the chance for any story.”

“It will probably get a little more attention today before dying out. Fraser and Pam won’t be home tonight to watch the news, and they never check it out on their phones. They have a faculty mixer at the Bentworth College for a new hire,” Phinn revealed.

“Do you have to babysit Pug?” Jake asked while they passed several small shops in the closest strip mall to their neighborhood.

“No, the little shit is sleeping over at a friend’s house tonight. Mom knows better.”

“I can always bring you along if Luke drops out. You up for a movie date with a future college student?” Jake inquired, knowing the answer but still offering.

“I’ll pass. I don’t want to scare away Trina for you. Am I truly that frightening?” Phinn questioned, wearing an exaggerated mournful expression.

“You saw the video of Rick? How?”

“Johanna mentioned that you took a long video of the skeleton. I later realized you never sent me any video, so I checked your phone yesterday afternoon while you showered for your date.” Jake started to question how Phinn accessed his phone. “Your passcodes are always easy to guess. It’s not your strong suit.”

“You have to stop doing that,” Jake moaned.

“Afraid I might see some spicy pictures? Or are you cheating on me with another detective? Jacob Magnum, how could you?” Phinn wailed before reverting to his regular demeanor. “I don’t know why you let Rick rile you up.”

“I don’t like how he talks about you or what anyone else at school says. Everyone acts like I’m the star detective, and you’re my bumbling sidekick.”

“Am I considering bumbling? I thought I was viewed as anti-social and a smart ass.”

“It’s not fair,” Jake complained. “You’re the brilliant one, while I’m mostly the muscle.”

“You’re more than that. You also hate taking risks, often freak out about the possibility of arrest, and always believe people are innocent,” Phinn cracked. “Oh, you also lean toward believing in the supernatural.”

“I’m not joking!” Jake bellowed, causing the pair of cuties waiting in the turn lane at the intersection to stare at him and laugh.

Silence filled the car while they waited for the light to turn green. Slightly embarrassed at Jake’s vehement defense of him, Phinn glanced out the window at the hair salon his mom frequented. He briefly wondered what gossip filled its chair-lined confines over the sounds of hair dryers.

“I’m fine with our arrangement. Your acting as the frontman allows me to be underestimated or go unnoticed by the culprits,” Phinn reassured once they resumed moving.

“Dusty said it allows you to lurk in the shadows,” Jake recounted.

“Dusty did say that,” Phinn recalled with a chuckle. “I also miss having a daredevil on the team.”

“What are you talking about? You’re the daredevil!” Jake insisted.

“No, no, I decide on what risks we should take, and Dusty would execute them as you’re too much of a pussycat,” Phinn stated, gesturing for Jake to take a left.

“I miss having a person handle our records,” Jake added.

They drove several minutes as the buildings along 64th Street slowly transitioned from bright and well-kept to grimier and slightly rundown. It wasn't the worst area in Edgewater, but one that definitely needed sprucing up. Phinn's imagination pondered what schemes and scams were currently being discussed inside a few dive bars at nearly eleven a.m.

“Do you miss our old name?”

“Busybody, Incorporated? Not at all. I never liked it,” Phinn reminded.

“But we should have a name. If we did, it wouldn’t be Jake and his nerdy sidekick,” Jake protested. “I think we should’ve kept our old name.”

“It wouldn’t have felt proper to keep it after Dusty moved away,” the brainy teen pointed out.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” the athlete replied with a loud sigh. “Where are we going downtown? You wanna get some food first?”

“No, you can wait until after our errand is finished. I also never said we were going downtown, only to head towards it. Take a left once you pass the courthouse,” Phinn directed, bracing for the incoming complaint.

“We aren’t going to the police department, are we?” Jake questioned, disbelief evident in his voice.

“Of course not. Keep driving until you reach the end of the road.”

“The old armory building?” Jake asked, double-checking his guess with his passenger. “Why are we stopping at the morgue? I doubt they’ve already examined the body yet.”

“I want to say hi to Bert,” Phinn replied nonchalantly. “And we’re stopping at the medical examiner’s office. Don’t insult anyone down there by calling it the morgue.”

“Bert Durkee? You mean you want to bribe him for the file on the diver once it’s ready,” Jake accused. “Wait, where did you get the money? Our reserve fund is almost empty.”

“Well, it’s now entirely empty. And I’m not bribing Bert. We’re merely supplementing the measly income of a poorly paid civil servant for an early peek at the information on his desk. Shouldn’t he get an occasional bonus for his hard work?” Phinn asked, playing on Jake’s empathy. “It’s also not a big deal. We can take on a few crappy cheating cases for some extra funds.”

“We? I’m the one who ends up hidden in the bushes or cramped in a car to get the proof,” the blond-haired teen complained, turning into the office’s parking lot.

“Are you calling me lazy? I’m the one–Oh, how wonderful,” Phinn said sarcastically upon spotting the two news trucks in the parking lot.

“Channels 5 and 9! Whoa, this story is going to pick up today around here,” Jake whistled. Neither teen considered the possibility of another newsworthy story.

Surprisingly, Jake struggled to find a spot in the usually half-empty parking lot. Phinn suggested they park on the street, but only a moment later did someone back up, freeing a space. After exiting the vehicle, the lead teen detective grumbled about the additional media attention, which **** them to be careful.

“Now is not the time to let your inner camera hog take over. We want to keep a low profile.”

“I’m not a camera–wait! Allison LeClaire’s cousin got hired last month by Channel 5 to be their new sports reporter. You remember Layla. Everyone called her Leggy because she was a track star and, well, because of her long legs. I wonder if they sent her down here to cover the story,” Jake mused.

“Why would the latest sports hire get sent to cover a long dead diver story?” Phinn questioned as they crossed over onto the cement walkway in front of the building.

“I don’t know. Maybe because she grew up in Edgewater and needs some field experience,” Jake shot back, defending his speculation. “Maybe they sent Dawn or Wyndy from their morning show. Or that short–”

“It's Stone Barrington,” Phineas hissed.

While the photojournalist prepared for his live update, Phinn hurriedly turned to put his back between himself and Barrington while they continued to walk. Additionally, Jake threw up his right hand to hide his face.

“Crap,” the stocky athlete muttered. “Stone hates us. We should’ve never conned him last winter. The humiliation supposedly cost him a promotion.”

“We needed the distraction to solve The Santa Swap Affair, even if it cost him that job in a larger TV market,” Phinn reminded. “But, yeah, we need to avoid him.”

"Wasn't it a cable news job?" Jake questioned, glancing over to see Barrington studying his makeup in his producer's handheld mirror. "Damn, I hope the Edgewater Dispatch isn’t here too. They might try to interview us, since they always suspect us of knowing stuff.”

“Nah, we should be good on that front. The local newspaper doesn’t need to fill its multiple news shows with pointless shots of the town like these channels do. We should be good as he’s likely doing a bit shortly for the eleven o’clock news,” Phinn responded, pulling open the glass door. He paused in the small entryway before opening the second door. “Listen, I know you hate it, but you need to charm Noreen.”

“Ah, come on,” Jake whined. “Flirting with a woman her age is weird, even if she’s pretty. Hell, her kid is supposed to try out for the JV squad this year. That practically makes him my teammate.”

“As if you don’t check out your dates’ mothers.”

“Well…maybe, but that’s different!” Jake insisted.

“Deal with it. Noreen likes you,” Phinn stated, finally opening the second glass door.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Jake responded, grasping for straws. “You could always handle the older woman for once.”

The musty scent of stale, dust-filled air met their nostrils as the glass door closed with a whisper behind them. A relic of the late 19th century, the old armory building had seemingly lived its final days about a decade ago when plans to tear it down emerged. Yet, the old building fought to live another day as a mayoral campaign focused on lowering taxes combined with a historical preservation effort killed the demolition plans. Having seen quite a lot of the interior, Phinn often wondered what people saw as worth preserving beyond its concrete husk. Everything else about the building screamed post-World War II drabbiness. A new modern building also would be more efficient.

Besides the glass door, the only natural light came from two narrow windows that sat up high near the ceiling. Dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lights that buzzed with a mind-numbing hum, the long lobby always felt like a march to a dreaded appointment as every footstep seemed to echo. Usually, a handful of chairs arranged haphazardly would sit mostly empty. Thus, both teens blinked in surprise to find that the hallway-turned-makeshift lobby held not only enough people to take up the handful of chairs but also several who stood in line, waiting to reach the glass-encased reception desk.

A motley crew of individuals sat on the chairs, each lost in their thoughts. Phinn never took any interest in the people seated, but Jake often wondered if they waited to identify a friend or family member’s body. A muffled sob somewhere inside the depths of the building seemingly confirmed Jake’s musings.

As the wall clock ticked and the artificial lights flickered, Jake grew restless as they slowly moved up two places in the line. Shadows danced along the tan walls, mixed with occasional glimpses of white tiled walls, which appeared whenever the lone door at the rear side opened. The creepy vibe grew as Jake pictured the corpses in the freezer awakening to slide out of the slabs they rested on. His imagination led him to expect a zombie to lumber out when the door opened the next time.

“There are no such things as zombies,” Phinn declared, noticing how Jake jumped when the door burst open. They’d discussed this topic in the past while at the old armory, so he easily read his oldest friend’s thoughts.

“I know that,” Jake shot back, feeling embarrassed. “This is taking too long.”

“Relax. We’re almost to the front. Have you noticed Noreen’s sundress? Be sure to compliment it,” Phinn instructed, turning to face the other teen.

“I know how to charm a woman far more than you do,” the popular football player pointed out.

“Oh, no,” Phinn groaned after turning back around.

After the person in front of them quickly finished his business, Noreen vanished, only to be replaced by a much older secretary. Both teens instantly recognized the white-haired woman with a perpetually sour expression.

“Fuck, it’s Vera,” Jake hissed.

“Next!” the nasily voice called out from behind the glass.

“I’ll handle this,” Phinn said, aware that Jake would buckle under the sharp-tongued employee’s withering gaze. Stepping over the piece of floor tape that marked the final waiting spot in line, Phinn **** a broad smile to form. “Good day–”

“What do you want now, kid?” The question came with a loud sigh.

Not letting the stern glare and abrupt interruption phase him, Phinn pressed on. “My, it’s far busier than usual in here today. I’m sure you’re needed for more pressing matters, so I’ll take up your time for a few mere seconds. I’m–”

“Are you here for an official reason? I don’t have time for any of your juvenile nonsense,” Vera said, glancing over at the wall clock as if she’d already set a time limit for this conversation.

“Now, that’s not the most professional or empathetic response, Vera. What if my friend Jake came down to identify his grandmother’s body?”

“My grammy?” Jake gasped.

“Get to the point, kid,” Vera ordered, glancing again at the clock with a peeved expression.

“Fine, fine, we’ll save the conversation about good manners for next time,” Phinn mumbled before turning chipper again. “I’m here to see Mr. Durkee. Could you be a dear and let him know?”

Dark eyes narrowed at the request, glinting with suspicion. Although the elderly desk clerk stared down his best friend, Jake began to twitch under the unspoken, interrogating gaze.

“Why?”

“Why, why?” Phineas repeated good-naturedly.

“Yes. Why? What business do you have with Mr. Durkee?” Vera challenged, with possible realization dawning on her face.

Phinn also recognized that he might have just alerted the most distrustful employee about his source inside the medical examiner’s office. Immediately, he sought to disarm the threat.

“Honestly, I find myself in trouble with my parents again. I know, what a surprise,” the teen added, noting the way Vera nodded in agreement. “So I’m **** to find a summer job to placate my parents. I hoped an internship here at this essential and underappreciated governmental service might be possible. I thought perhaps Bert could put in a good word for myself as a reference based on our past interactions.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, there is and never will be an internship in this office for you, kid,” Vera declared.

“Now, let’s not get hasty, ma’am. Perhaps if I can talk to Bert–”

“No. First, we do not offer summer internships for high school students. Second, you’re a rabble-rouser. And thirdly, Dr. Earby does not like you, Phineas,” Vera stated. “You’re done, pest. Next!”

“No, I am not done. I am far from done,” Phinn asserted, twisting around to look at a man with dark curly hair who’d started to cross the line for his turn. “I’m afraid you will have to wait, sir. I’m not finished yet.”

“I will call security,” Vera vowed, a smirk forming behind the glass window.

“Security? You don’t have any security in this building. We both know that. Oh, go ahead and pick up that phone, Vera. Do it. Who are you going to call?” Phinn challenged, causing the woman to pause.

“Let’s go,” Jake hissed, attempting to nudge his friend away.

“No. I think I shall file a formal complaint. I’m sure it wouldn’t be the first against you. Why? Because you’re a small, petty woman who thinks this thankless, minor job gives you some power over others. Well, let me tell you something, Vera. Nobody likes you. Nobody. Not your coworkers or the public who walks through those doors. So when you get murdered someday–and you will be murdered–I’m not going to bother with catching the killer. If anything, they should be praise–”

“Okay, let’s go,” Jake insisted, wrapping a strong arm around the smaller teen to carry him away from the reception window.

With the waiting people gawking, Phinn warned them that Vera would screw them and their dead relatives over too. Finally, after Jake had lugged him nearly fifteen feet, Phinn insisted he’d calmed down and would behave. Jake relented by letting go.

“Jeez, whenever I think you should try to be chattier at school, you pull something like this.”

“I don’t want to be chatty. I hate small talk and mindless babble,” Phinn replied.

“Maybe you’d be less tense and stressed if you got laid. What that hell?” Jake questioned, throwing out his hands.

“We need this investigation. I’m so bored,” Phinn admitted sheepishly.

“Then come with us tonight. I’ll call Luke and tell him you’re going–”

“No! I’m not going on a double date. We have information to get.”

“How? What’s our next move?” Jake asked once they’d resumed walking down the hallway.

“Bert gets lunch at noon. We’ll wait by his car for him,” Phinn explained.

On cue, Jake’s stomach rumbled. He began to open his mouth to suggest they get lunch instead but stopped to rush forward to open the inner door for a woman he spotted in the entryway.

“Thank you,” she responded, flashing a dazzling smile at the handsome young man.

“Um, n-n-no problem,” Jake stammered, using his arm to shove Phineas against the wall to allow Hollie Kittler to walk past.

Of course, Jake knew the mid-twentysomething blonde with shoulder-length hair, piercing gray eyes, and medium-to-large breasts. He saw the reporter often enough during her in-the-field reports on Channel 9. Hollie might be the best thing going for the less popular news station.

The click-clack of her high heels turned heads in her direction, including Jake and Phinn. Their eyes roamed up those smooth, slinky legs to the black pencil skirt, which showcased her toned ass as she seemed to glide down the hall. Both teens had seen the way her tight, light pink blouse stretched across her front. So they fully understood why the seated men watched with rapt attention as she passed them.

“Fuck, she’s so hot,” Jake groaned, continuing to stare at how her ass moved with each step.

“Let’s stay,” Phinn said, causing Jake to pull his attention away from the remarkable rump. “I’m curious to see the showdown between Kittler and Vera.”

Phinn didn’t mention that after Jake carried him down the hallway, he’d developed the nagging feeling that he’d missed something. Staying a bit longer might reveal what his brain subconsciously noticed.

“Great idea,” Jake nodded, returning his focus to the sexy reporter.

However, a sudden commotion from the opposite end of the room shifted everyone’s attention away from the striking television personality.

“No! You don’t understand. I must see the skeleton. It’s vital!”

Although they couldn’t hear Vera's response, the two junior sleuths could guess how she responded.

“Please, this could solve a mystery dating back centuries!”

Leaning against the wall to look around the waiting line, Phinn recognized the man with dark curly hair who’d waited in line behind him. Apparently, his outburst wasn’t over, nor would Vera tolerate it for any longer.

“Fine. Call security. They can also get Dr. Earby for me,” the man continued loudly, his voice echoing in the lobby. And when the side door opened to reveal a large, heavily built man, he asked, “Are you security?”

“Security? Please. That’s Goran, the orderly,” Phinn mocked quietly from the other end of the room. “He basically carts around the bodies.”

“Please, listen to me. My name is Oswald Cozart. I’m a historian and must speak to Dr. Earby. That diver might hold the key to a priceless find for the ages. Please! I’m willing to wait,” the man pleaded as Goran attempted to escort him away from the reception window.

Sensing a far more interesting story than the one she’d arrived for, Hollie Kittler rushed forward to introduce herself. With her experienced manner and charm, the blonde photojournalist calmed the anxious man while taking over for Goran. Hustling Cozart in the direction of the two teens, Hollie inquired as to his identity.

“I’m a historian in town for a book signing. My specialty is folklore legends and early colonial America. I’m here by pure happenstance. Yet, the most extraordinary development might have occurred,” the historian babbled, seemingly overcome by whatever he needed to know.

“You mentioned a priceless find?” Hollie asked, prodding the man.

“Yes. That skel–That diver might hold the key to finding the lost pirate treasure of Thornbeard!”

Hollie’s eyes shot open wide while the two teens turned to look at each other. Phinn immediately flashed a grin at the startling revelation.

“Jackpot.”