Chapter 2

They made their way to the swamps of Atlanta and eventually approached the large house at the end of a winding and squishy road. It was a semi-gothic old Southern mansion, but being in the swamps for some reason, it didn't seem that pretentious. Abed took a moment to take a few pictures and record some thoughts into his digital recorder before Shirley had enough and forcibly maneuvered him into the house.

Shirley ushered him into the back of the first floor toward the Detective's quarters. Each time she approached the room since that awful night, she felt a pang at fearing that he would do something stupid again. Sometimes he reminded her of Jeff, the way he drank and the way he was so quick to give up on himself. But she comforted herself with the fact that he knew she cared and had promised, just like Jeff had after that other awful day in the hospital, he wouldn't try to hurt himself again.

Poor Jeff. That boy sure had some problems, and she flashed back to the night they had talked privately before she had moved away. He had been more candid with her than he probably had anyone, and although she was touched he chose to be vulnerable with her, she was saddened that it took her leaving to get him to go there and confess his thoughts that had opened the door to the underground bunker.

Her heart warmed a little at her creeping suspicion that Jeff had found the courage after all to tell Annie how he felt. Although she didn't approve of the age difference, she did think Jeff and Annie brought out the best in each other. She really wasn't sure if they would last, if in fact they were doing anything that is (and they better not be doing anything sinful), but she supposed Jeff leaving the state of Colorado, even if for a platonic visit, was a milestone. She had overheard his confession to Troy and knew that he tended to exaggerate his accomplishments. Poor man deep down really was Tinkletown.

Now she was very proud of Annie getting that internship in DC. She was a smart girl, and she supposed she was now a grown woman. She hadn't really taken to her at first, being such a know-it-all and making cracks about her age, but overtime she had learned to respect her, and vice versa. Served that girl right if she ended up with a man who is in fact Shirley's age, even if no one ever seemed to understand that.

She shook herself back to the present moment, and knocked on the door of the den.

"Bennett? Come in."

She entered first, opening the French doors and then pushing back the lace curtains to reveal Detective Butcher's back as he sat in his wheelchair, facing the window into the yard. He was likely going through one of his reflective phases, as he pondered their current troubling case. She took a deep breath and then, with a purposefulness she didn't feel, motioned for Abed to follow her in.

The Detective swiveled his chair around and raised his eyebrows as he regarded Abed. He then glanced over at Shirley and cracked a wry smile.

"Well, who is this?"

She made the introductions, making sure to use Detective Butcher's full title, and Abed confidently shook hands with the Detective.

She explained, "Abed's here to help with the case. We go way back, and he has a mind you wouldn't believe." She beamed nervously and felt no truer words had ever been spoken.

The Detective let out a hearty laugh, the one Shirley knew he reserved for when he was indulging her. She shot him a glare and stepped forward, noticing with satisfaction that he inched his wheelchair back before turning once more toward Abed.

"Abed Nadir, the great filmmaker. Bennett has told me a lot about you."

Abed glanced back and forth between them, hesitated, and then remarked, "That's interesting. The fact that you weren't expecting me yet seem to know about me indicates Shirley has been confiding in you, sharing her days at Greendale. Yet she works as a nighttime chef, a time when supposedly you are winding down or sleeping. And when she should be making food…"

Shirley smacked Abed on the arm and then said cheerily, "Now, A-bed, we don't need to get into that right now. Dev..Detective Butcher knows a little bit about my life at Greendale, given how important you all were…are to me. But perhaps we could discuss this latest case."

Appearing to go back into his role, Abed cleared his throat and said, "Right. There was a body." He then indicated a chair and through nonverbals they negotiated him taking a seat near the Detective, Shirley joining them. Abed then made the odd request of some bakery items they might enjoy, and Shirley rose and scuttled back to the kitchen.

As happy as she was to see that boy, she was on edge at the thought of leaving him alone with her former employer. She couldn't imagine what they would talk about.

Suddenly she snapped out of her nervousness and remembered she was Shirley Bennett and not just the baker. She of course tiptoed back toward the den, fished a handy glass out of her large bag, and leaned it against the door.

Abed's voice was all business.

"There's a body on campus?"

"Yes, a man, late forties. Returning adult student. Bit of a hippie."

"Facial hair?"

There was a pause, and then Shirley heard the Detective grunt, which was a sign his underlying rage was emerging. She steadied herself and placed her ear back against the glass.

Detective Butcher barked, "Exactly what is your role in this investigation?"

"I'm here to help you and Shirley piece together this puzzle."

"I gather that. But what are your qualifications?"

"I'm a filmmaker. I study things. I study people. And I see patterns. So please tell me about the deceased. Did he have unusual hair or other odd grooming?"

There was a very long and uncomfortable pause.

"I don't know if I need a filmmaker mucking up our investigation. As much as I respect Bennett, which is the only reason I've indulged you thus far, I'm going to have to cut this little conversation short."

Shirley sighed and pushed the doors open. The boys looked up at her in surprise, and she merely shook her head and tossed the glass back into her bag before pulling up a chair and joining them.

She smiled sweetly, her eyes dancing between them with a hint of menace as she asked, "Now what's this, Detective Butcher, about speaking to my friend like that? I know he's perhaps a little odd, but give him a chance. He's right that he makes connections between things that others don't. I've told you about some of our Greendale cases."

"But he's not a detective."

"Neither am I."

Detective Butcher closed his eyes and nodded. She knew she had him, and he wouldn't put up any more of a fuss. She was about to redirect the conversation back to the case when Detective Butcher let out a loud moan and opened his eyes.

"Bennett, is this another Gary situation? Because if so…."

Abed hunched forward, his eyebrows arching to almost comedic heights as his head swiveled toward Shirley. He interjected, "Shirley, did your friend Gary come for a visit?"

She certainly didn't know what to make of this. Why were people always disparaging Gary, just because he was pasty white and resembled Conan O'Brien? Well, she certainly wasn't a racist.

Before she could reply to Abed's disrespectful tone, Detective Butcher said, "Oh, yes he did. You wouldn't believe the strange things he ate for breakfast." His face contorted into a scowl as he conjured up the memory.

Abed cocked his head as he asked, "He ate breakfast here? Wait, Shirley, are you living here? I thought you had your own apartment."

Shirley felt her pulse quickening. Although it was completely innocent, she supposed many might misconstrue her and the Detective's arrangement. She cast a glance over at the Detective, who was rolling his eyes, and she replied, "Now Abed, why, yes, I am living here, it is only temporary, because I had already broken my lease to move back to Colorado after my father passed." She found herself making the sign of the cross, which didn't even make any sense to her since she wasn't Catholic, but it was a nervous habit she had developed over the years. She then added, "I have my own quarters." Dropping her voice several registers for emphasis, she added, "I'm a good Christian woman."

Abed said immediately, "Okay." He then turned back to address Detective Butcher. "So Gary's pretty obnoxious isn't he? I hate Gary."

"Abed!"

The Detective let out a hearty laugh, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye as he said, "Did you know he ate herring? At five am. The man is one of the most obnoxious people I've ever met."

"Dev…Detective Bucher!"

She had had enough of this nonsense. She shouted some words to snap them back in line and gave her best mom glare. Luckily, they both settled down and decided to resume discussing the case. Unnervingly, she began to recognize that they had bonded over their shared dislike of poor Gary and Detective Butcher appeared to let down some of his defenses as he filled Abed in on his view of the case.

"So you see, the motive is baffling. Guy was a part time returning adult student, seemed to be well liked but not necessarily overly popular. Divorced, but that was amicable and was years ago. Son is in high school and is a straight-A student who is a bit of nerd. Got along reasonably well with his dad, though. Guy didn't seem to have any enemies."

Abed jotted down these details in his notebook, and said, "Your account fits with Shirley's. Now I really need to know about his sideburns."

Detective Butcher and Shirley exchanged quizzical looks, and then Shirley began to feel something burning in her brain. She widened her eyes and asked, "You mean did he have any unusual shapes razored in?"

"You understand."

She thought back to their viewing of the body, and it dawned on her where Abed was taking this, but she didn't really completely understand. But through all her time at Greendale, she had learned to never underestimate the boy's mind. She cleared her throat and replied, "I don't think he had any sideburns at all."

"Think or know?"

She frowned, knowing she hadn't been with the body very long, as that wasn't one of her most favorite aspects of working a case. She had briefly glanced at it before moving on to interviewing witnesses, readily allowing Detective Butcher to be the one who dealt with the morgue. She turned toward the Detective and remarked, "I wasn't with the body itself very long, but you followed up with that and got a better look at him. Did he have sideburns?"

Detective Butcher, slightly stiffening his shoulders for some reason, appeared to consider the question for a moment before he adamantly shook his head.

Abed nodded and jotted something else down as he said, "Freshly shaved."

"Yup."

"Interesting. I'd like to see a photo taken of the deceased before his death."

Squinting at Abed with a mixture of mild annoyance and bafflement, Detective Butcher asked, "Now what are you on about?"

"In all good time, Harry."