Sherlock and Me (The Case of the Starry Night)

By SJ Slagle

Lucy James can't seem to finish college and seems stuck in her movie theater job. But she's always been good at figuring out puzzles and a big one drops right in her lap. Something's amiss at the local art museum and with her best friend, Cindy, and trusty dog, Baskerville, she attempts to find out what. With a little help from her mentor, Sherlock Holmes, Lucy weaves her way through a very complicated maze of danger and deceit. Nancy Drew has nothing on this girl, but will her meddling cause trouble to come crashing down on them all?

• Language: English
• Publisher: SJ Slagle
• Release date: Feb 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310197802

SJ Slagle

I'm the proud honoree of the 2018 B.R.A.G. Medallion for excellence in historical fiction. My book, London Spies, is the first of a trilogy about a young woman in military intelligence in WWII.I am an unabashed lover of mysteries. Sue Grafton, Sherlock Holmes, Lawrence Block, Walter Mosley, JA Jance and Tony Hillerman are just a few authors who have tantalized my imagination over the years and I reread their work whenever I need stimulation. And instruction. A writer goes to the master to learn that certain turn of phrase, a unique POV or how to kickstart the story reverberating in your head.I grew up in Illinois, moved to Arizona and, after college, toured some of the world including Puerto Rico, Florida and the Virgin Islands. I've traveled throughout my lifetime giving setting and tone new twists as my horizons expanded. My work as a teacher in Language Arts and video production have proven time and again to be superb launching pads for my writing.I write mysteries and historical fiction as SJ Slagle and western romances as Jeanne Harrell. My sister and I started writing children's books long ago and those are published under both our names: Sinda Cheri Floyd. The stories we write are loosely based on our collective experiences during childhood.Enjoy my books and happy reading!

Book preview

Where are you going?

…Out for a quick smoke.

The doctor told you to quit smoking…

And I’m trying – Just one, Maggie.

The screen door slammed as he made his way down the back stairs to the alley behind his house. Because it was dark, he could make out some restaurant signs the next street over and lights in a few neighbors’ homes.

He hurriedly fished out the pack of cigarettes and tapped the package to get one out, fingers quivering in anticipation. Slipping the pack back in his pocket, he stuck the cigarette between his lips and felt around in his other pocket for the lighter. He breathed easier when his fingers found the cold metal and he brought it out to flick open. The orange flame burst in the air and then burned its way into the tobacco… His first drag was deep, satisfying and he felt so much calmer after the first few breaths. Nicotine charging through his system, he heard a thud and glanced around at a few noises over by the museum just across the alley. Hadn’t everyone left for the day?

Not quite, apparently.

No lights were visible past the alley – All he could see was the fiery tip of his cigarette. Murmurings floated to him and he wondered what was happening over there. He cocked an ear toward the muffled noise and stepped forward. But he froze when he heard voices. Then the rain started.

First a mist and then tiny drops casually spit on him. The drops began to pick up speed and volume, until rain was coming down hard and fast. His cigarette snuffed out. Lightning zigzagged across the sky, highlighting his view for a moment. A few men were moving around behind the museum.

Then he heard it… a popping sound, another one. Something whizzed by him, reminding him of practicing at the gun range. Gun range? His brain registered gunshots just as his feet turned to fly back to the house. He felt rather than saw a flurry of movement heading his way. He grabbed the porch railing and began climbing up the now slick stairs.

Something grabbed his heart and he thought it was being lifted out of him. He staggered and fell, clutching his chest and feeling like an elephant just sat on him. Pain shot through his body and he sank hard on a step. With a spinning head and closing eyes, darkness crept in with that pelting rain. Slippery, soaked and soiled, he sank lower on the stairs. His nose smelled the damp earth and his ears registered running footsteps down the alley. He slipped onto his side and fell off the step. Mud splattered his face…

Maggie… Mag…

Hands reached out to no one, nobody and nothing.

* * *

CHAPTER 1

My name’s Lucy James. I’m the assistant manager in a movie theater in downtown Reno, Nevada. I’ve worked since high school at this musty theater located right on the Truckee River that snakes through the city. To explain the musty smell, we had a terrible flood about ten years ago that swamped the theatre. Even though it rarely rains in Reno, that year it had rained for three days straight and the river finally rose. Water spilled right in the doors like it had bought a ticket. You wouldn’t believe all the crap I found floating in the lobby and behind the candy counter. Gross… Gone, but not forgotten and the slight smell of old socks remains.

Slogging away in this old theater pays the bills and there have been plenty because I can’t seem to graduate from college. Ten years? Ten years declaring major after major? Business: No… I’m not that good at math. Psychology: Definitely not. I can’t figure out how my mind works, so how could I figure out someone else’s?

My dad has finally given up and now refuses to pay for any more classes. Maybe I need to go to a fortune-teller and have my tea leaves read. I sure can’t figure out what I should be when I grow up. Maybe she could…

I’m hoping that my dream job will fall in my lap one of these days. Not looking for Prince Charming or Galahad or Lancelot either, thank you. A few times burned in the man department can leave you a bit shy to strike up a new romance. Well, it does me. Same music… different tune. And all those notes go sour in the end.

The theater manager, Kevin Reynolds, is a nice guy obviously stuck in a dead-end job with no hope of advancement. He’s been here as long as I have.

But that’s what you get when you marry just out of high school to a girl you got pregnant probably right after the graduation ceremony. I’ve known Kevin since the sixth grade, thus the easy job. He doesn’t make it hard for me and leaves me alone most of the time. My kind of boss…

But today – today was a little different.

* * *

Somebody left this in theater two. Kevin smoothed over his thinning hair and handed me the umbrella. Probably left last night. Marvin cleaned that theatre. He rolled his eyes.

What do you want me to do with it? I took it, looking it over. A splash of color – blues and yellows swirling around dark, slippery material. It felt damp. Opening it slightly -- don’t want to get hit with a blast of bad luck -- I recognized the pattern. It was a stunning copy of Van Gogh’s Starry Night. Gee, for a guy who could hardly sell anything while he was alive, Van Gogh was everywhere now. Somebody was making a lot of money off his Impressionist art.

Shrugging, Kevin walked away talking over his shoulder. Stick it in Lost and Found.

Why an umbrella? It hardly ever rains.

…It did last night.

Really? Must have slept through it.

…If no one claims it in a month, it’s yours.

Why would I want an umbrella?

He stopped for minute, looked back, a slight smile on his plump face. That got my attention since Kevin rarely smiles – He thinks it makes his face look fat… Glancing at his watch, he began moving away. It’s just the sort of weird thing that will drive you nuts until you learn its story… Isn’t it?

My jaw dropped. Well, for Pete’s sake. He sure had my number… I did like to figure out little puzzles. Wonder if I could get a job doing that?

Kevin shook his head and laughed. Back to work, James. He walked to his office leaving a question mark parked over my head.

What was its story?

Why would someone leave an umbrella in a movie theater, if it were raining outside?

And why should I care?

No one ever uses umbrellas in town. Rain always catches us by surprise and lasts ten whole minutes. Umbrellas mainly get in the way and then you’re stuck carrying it. Okay, so maybe that’s why it was left… Guy forgot he had it.

Maybe he had it for protection… Huh…

I suppose you could beat somebody away with an umbrella, but that seemed ridiculous. I conjure images of little old ladies with white hair not wanting help crossing the street.

No, the umbrella was needed for some other reason.

Sinister?

Decorative?

Playful?

Hmm… Or maybe it was a clue.

And that’s why I care – I enjoy figuring out little puzzles, like Kevin said. I stick in bits of information into my mind like clothes in a washing machine. It all spins and spins around in my brain, while I add in the soap and fabric softener. After a while, it all chugs to a stop and I open the door. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, a clean picture appears that brings a big smile to my otherwise bored face. Puzzles put a spring in my step and a boost to my flagging morale. And I’ve accomplished something – finally.

But today I didn’t seem to have the energy. I’ve got career choices to make and a job to do. I shook my head and walked to the office to put the umbrella in the Lost and Found box.

* * *

CHAPTER 2

I don’t know why you just don’t do it.

Cindy waved her taco at me while we were sitting at the Food Court in the mall. But malls make Cindy nervous – all the people everywhere. What’s that called when you’re afraid of crowds? So why on earth did we come here?

Cindy Floyd’s been my best friend and partner-in-crime since high school. We’ve been roomies for the past three years. She went off to the university in Las Vegas and actually got a degree, while I’ve been spinning my academic wheels ever since. She tries, I repeat tries, to keep me on track. But she’s been at it for a while now and my once hearty appetite has faded like yesterday’s news.

I wearily took another bite of my hamburger. Anxiety hit me in the stomach and the last bite was threatening to come back up.

Look…I…I need to focus on a career. It’s getting ridiculous that I can’t decide on a major and finish school. Dad says I’m hopeless. I chewed the bite into very small pieces in the hopes I can swallow it.

…But it’s what you love to do, Lucy. And you’re good at it! Remember when you figured out that theft at the grocery store? Nobody but you put two and two together to discover the extra checkout lane that wasn’t supposed to be open. And that cashier who was raking in the money. Remember? Huh?

I refrained from rolling my eyes, but it’s an effort. The police didn’t appreciate my help, as I recall.

Regardless… She waved that taco at me again. The police lieutenant was just pissed you figured it out before he did.

I was practically banned from going into that grocery store again.

…Not by the store manager. He offered you a job.

I did roll my eyes this time and glanced back at her. She was only trying to be helpful. Thank God someone was in my camp.

Thanks, Cindy. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but Dad’s right. I’ve got to quit fooling around and pick a career. Working at a movie theater with a pimply-faced teenager, an old guy, a drama queen and Kevin probably isn’t what I was meant to do with my life.

Cindy looked around at all the noisy people in the Food Court. Too many restaurants together in one place for her and I could see beads of sweat popping out on her forehead. She dabbed them with a napkin and smiled nervously at me… Trying to be brave, I guess. Her taco went down on her plate and her breathing became labored.

We didn’t need to… I stopped, eyes forward. I noticed something move out of the corner of my eye. Jeez… a small spider was nonchalantly walking across our table, as if he had the right-of-way. Cindy and I both froze at the same time.

I stood up so quickly that I knocked over my chair. Cindy jumped up too, wiping the spider off the table with her damp napkin. It clung to the napkin and then jumped over on me! Yikes! All those feathery tentacles poking at me! I began to hop up and down, trying vainly to brush the spider of my arm!

Get it off! I wailed. Get it off! I danced around the Food Court with Cindy running after me. Whenever she got close enough, she brushed the napkin somewhere in my vicinity.

A manager ran over to see if he could help. Help? The only thing that scares me in this life is spiders! How can he help me with that?

He spoke soothingly and attempted to calm us both. Other people around us at the various restaurants darted worried glances in our direction, while we danced the dance of the insane…

Ten minutes later, Cindy and I found ourselves in a ladies bathroom splashing water on our faces and trying to calm down. Between agoraphobia and arachnophobia, we were both done in.

Water dripping from my face, I glanced in the mirror. My face was flushed while Cindy’s was stone pale. A red face goes with my auburn hair, I suppose, but Cindy’s a blonde – that pale face made her appearance look washed out. We’re quite a pair… bookends. Rick and rack.

You okay? I grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and wiped the excess moisture off my face.

No, she said as she dabbed a wet towel on hers. She threw it away and glanced back at me in the mirror. Corners of her mouth began to tip up slightly and she bit back a smile. Her grin was now infectious and I grinned back like an idiot.

"Remember that old TV show? I Love Lucy? Well, that’s us – Lucy and Ethel."

A giggle threatened to bubble out and did, followed by all its family. Her face contorted and my reflection showed mine doing the same. We burst out with loud peals of laughter. Cindy’s laughing so hard, she had to lean against the sink to stay upright. A lady in a stall peeked over the top, a worried expression on her face. She reluctantly opened the door a tiny bit and beat a hasty retreat as fast as her short little legs could go.

Cindy and I paused in our maniacal condition, watched her rushed departure and broke out laughing again as soon as the bathroom door slammed. I was weak from laughing now and my side’s beginning to hurt.

A perfect time for a phone call.

Cindy still tried to pull