Tank Baby
Tank Baby
An Elodie Fontaine Mystery
(Book 1)
Iza Moreau
Copyright © 2019 Iza Moreau
Cover art by John Russo
Special thanks to Brigette Kinney and Kopper Boyd
for their excellent editorial assistance
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer.
There is no note on any instrument that has not been played before. That said, Tank Baby is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of names, places, characters, and incidents to actual persons, places, and events results from the relationship which the world must always bear to works of this kind.
Black Bay Books
1939 Sand Basin Rd.
Grand Ridge, FL 32442
Books for people who like to think about what they read.
Books by Iza Moreau
Small Town Series
The News in Small Towns (2012)
Madness in Small Towns (2013)
Secrets in Small Towns (2014)
Mysteries in Small Towns (2015)
Elodie Fontaine Mysteries
Tank Baby (2019)
Ghost in the Piano (2019)
Horses Wild (2019)
Desert Girl (2020)
Stormy Weather (2021)
The XYZ Mysteries (2016)
The Five (2017)
Swamp Girl (2018)
To Brigette Kinney
Without our conversations and your suggestions,
neither this book nor its sequels would exist.
Table of Contents
Chapter One: The Meeting
Chapter Two: The Coming Out Dinner
Chapter Three: Tiffany the Lawyer
Chapter Four: Angles
Chapter Five: The Intruder
Chapter Six: Ting
Chapter Seven: Put Them All Together
Chapter Eight: The Alliance
Chapter Nine: 16,777,216 Colors
Chapter Ten: Touchy-Feely
Chapter Eleven: A Talk with That Girl
Chapter Twelve: Valentine’s Day
Chapter Thirteen: The Most Exciting Date Ever
Chapter Fourteen: The ORG
Chapter Fifteen: Monday, Monday
Chapter Sixteen: Six, Again
Chapter Seventeen: The Mother Project
Chapter Eighteen: Chatbots and Flip-Flop Qubits
Chapter Nineteen: A Bunch of Computer Stuff
Chapter Twenty: Team Trouble
Chapter Twenty-One: The Big Reveal
About the Author
Chapter One
The Meeting
Elodie Fontaine hurried out of her last-period English class, clutching a couple of books to her chest so they wouldn’t get jostled loose in the crush of students anxious to get home. The lecture had been about William Golding’s Lord of the Flies, but so far Elodie had managed to read only a third of it. Luckily, Mr. Murdock, the English teacher, liked to hear his own voice and rarely asked for input from the class. The truth is, Elodie’s grades in English were not as high as they should be. She had her sights set on getting into a good college, MIT maybe. She would do better; she would. She would finish the book and ace the test on Monday. She would.
Right now, though, she had a meeting to attend.
Unlike the heated classroom she had just exited, the hall had a February chill, and she was glad she had buttoned up her sweater. As high school seniors went, Elodie was medium height, and most people would have called her cute rather than pretty. Her shoulder-length hair hid her ears—which she was convinced stuck out like Dumbo’s—and flipped forward toward her chin. Faded jeans and an old pair of running shoes completed her ensemble.
Elodie swept her long bangs out of her eyes and scanned the hall for room numbers. This was her first year at the newly constructed Tallahassee High School and she was still not sure about where everything was—especially if she did not have classes in that area. Just before she came to Room 163, she slowed down a little. There was a flyer taped to the wall with a crudely drawn arrow pointing to the open door. The flyer read: “Gay/Straight Alliance Meeting, 3:15 p.m. today.” Elodie looked inside, but so far there were no takers. She was tempted to move past and head toward the parking lot, but a voice behind her stopped her in her tracks.
“Going in?” asked the voice. It was a female voice, a no-nonsense voice that also managed to be kind of sensual.
“Me?” asked Elodie, taken off guard.
The owner of the voice was a very attractive girl about Elodie’s own age but taller, wearing clothes that were a little on the flamboyant side. Short brown boots below merlot-colored leggings and a brown faux-fur coat that somewhat disguised the girl’s buxom figure. She also wore a brown patterned scarf around her neck. The most interesting thing about her, though, was her long, platinum-blond hair, which was gathered into a high ponytail in back of her scalp so that it cascaded, like a fountain, down her back and shoulders. “You’re the only one here,” she said.
“Um, well, yeah,” Elodie replied. “I want to show my support.”
“So you’re, like, a supporter?” the girl asked.
“It’s complicated.”
“I’ll bet.”
“What does that mean?” Elodie asked, but got no response. Was this girl dissing her for attending a gay meeting? Her unspoken question was answered when the girl breezed past her and into the room, taking a seat near the back and placing her brown purse under her seat. Elodie followed and sat at the desk to the girl’s left. They sat silently while a few other students meandered into the room and took their seats near the front. Most of them looked kind of nerdy and they all seemed to know each other. A couple of the guys looked more than slightly effeminate and one of the girls was almost a caricature of the bold and dominant young lesbian. Elodie looked at her more closely; a black girl, she had one side of her head shaved while the other was overrun with long loc extensions. She was wearing a black-and-white-checked flannel shirt under a blue denim vest, jeans, and red sneakers. She caught Elodie staring and Elodie looked away, embarrassed.
After a few minutes, a thin boy with nondescript features slouched to the podium. He had long brown hair and Elodie was sure that he wore clothes that his mother had picked out for him at Walmart.
“Thanks for coming, everyone,” he said to the seven or eight students that were scattered around the room. “I’m Todd, and I’m gay.”
“Hi, Todd,” murmured a couple of the others.
“Hey, Todd,” said one of the boys in a voice that was a little too high and a little too loud, “Do we have to pay dues to get in this club?”
Before Todd could answer, another voice followed. “Do we have to have a note from out parents? Because, you know, I’m not out.”
A third piped up, “Can we bring our homework to the meetings?”
Another: “Who’s the faculty advisor for this group? Because, you know, if it’s Ms. Brittenhouse, she’s a real homophobe.”
Elodie heard the girl beside her snort, then saw her rise to her feet. “Listen, Todd,” she said. “This is supposed to be a support group not a tree-house gang.”
All eyes swung to the back of the room.
“Who are you?” asked the surprised boy.
“My name’s Margo.” Then in a mocking girlish voice, she said, “And I’m queer.” In her own voice, she continued, “Who organized this meeting anyway?”
“Well, I did,” Todd said with an offended lilt to his voice.
“Good for you, then. But how about we not pretend it’s an AA meeting. And it’s not an exorcism. And are you telling me that there are only a half dozen queer students at this lousy high school? I mean,
what kind of a place is this?”
“It’s not as easy as—” Todd began.
“You got that right,” broke in Todd’s interlocutor. “But it can be done.”
“Anyway,” he said defensively, “what are you doing here? You said you’re queer but I don’t believe you.”
“No?”
Striding to the front of the room, the tall girl swiveled to face the students. “Sit down for a minute and rest, Todd. And give me a piece of notebook paper. Everybody here put down your name and your email address. I understand that some of you are shy, so it doesn’t have to be your real name but it does have to be your real email address. We’re meeting again in one week—right here, same time: right after last period. And I want every one of you to bring at least two other people with you. This is going to be a good group. This is going to be a group that has some power in this school, not a clique of doofuses that uses these meetings as a place to hide from the rest of the school.”
“But what about Todd?” a chubby boy asked. Elodie realized that he was in her trig class, but had no idea what his name was.
“Next meeting we’ll have an election,” the platinum-haired girl said. “I won’t be running, so Todd can be king or whatever.” She walked to the back of the class and picked up her purse from under the desk she had been sitting in earlier. Then she took the paper from Elodie, who had just finished writing down her contact information. “Everyone will get an email from me in the next few days,” she said, walking toward the door. “And by the way, we’re changing the name of the group to LGBTQ Alliance. It’s like, 2019, not the dark ages.”
She glanced at the sign-up sheet, then turned to Elodie, “Come on, Amber,” she said. Then , almost under her breath, Elodie heard her mutter, “God, I can’t believe your name is Amber.”
“Are you talking to me?” Elodie asked. Things were going way too fast for her to follow them. The bossy girl was kind of like a whirlwind, disturbing everything in her path.
“Your name’s Amber, isn’t it?”
“It’s Elodie,” Elodie replied. “I signed near the top because nobody else did.”
Margo looked at the paper again, the first sign of confusion that Elodie had seen. “Who’s Amber, then?” she asked.
Elodie suspected that Amber was black girl with the hair extensions but she didn’t say anything.
Margo shook her head, “Who knows. Anyway . . . Elodie . . . come on. We need to talk.”
“Um, okay.” Elodie gathered up her two school books and followed the blonde out the door.
Elodie was not someone who took orders easily, so it was kind of a weird experience to hustle after someone she didn’t even know. But it had been a hectic week all around. Tennis practice had started and she had been competing every day for a spot on the team. She had been roped into something called the Math and Science Club and was supposed to think of some project for that group to work on during the year. But at least those were normal activities for her. Attending a meeting of gay students was most definitely not.
“Hey, you, Margo,” she shouted. “Stop for a minute.”
The girl turned to face her, flipping her fluffy hair back in the process. “Yeah?”
“Where are we going?”
“Bernie’s” the girl answered. “I’m dying for some coffee.”
“That’s blocks away,” answered Elodie. “Are you driving?”
“My car’s making a funny noise so I’ve been riding the bus,” Margo answered.
“Let’s go in mine, then.”
“Yeah, okay. Lead on.” She let Elodie catch up. “I’m Margo Schwadron,” she said, holding out a red-nailed hand for Elodie to shake. Elodie would have bet that, under those short boots, her toenails would be painted the same color and buffed to the same rounded, polished perfection.
“Really?” Elodie blinked, taking the hand and shaking it briefly.
“What’s really about it?” Margo asked.
“That’s like, the best name I’ve ever heard,” Elodie said.
“Yeah? Well, thanks. Yours is pretty sweet, too. What’s your last name, Elodie?”
“Fontaine,” Elodie answered. “That’s my car over there.”
“The white one?” Margo asked, surprised. “What the hell is that?”
“It’s a Tesla Roadster. My parents gave it to me when I turned seventeen.” Elodie unlocked the passenger door and opened it for Margo.
“They have good taste,” said Margo. “And a lot of dough-re-me.”
“Yeah,” Elodie replied.
“All right,” said Margo. “Let’s cruise.”
~ ~ ~
Bernie’s Pizza Palace was located at one end of a recently built strip mall that catered to the new high school. In addition to the restaurant, there was a used bookstore, a computer service center, and a thrift store. At the far end was a Quik Stop—a convenience store that had gas pumps and a charging station.
Because school had been out for less than an hour, the eatery was still more than half full of kids, all of whom seemed to want to be making their voices heard. Margo led Elodie to a booth near the back, threw her purse on the seat and sat down. Elodie sat across from her. While Margo quickly scanned the near-crumpled menu, Elodie said what she had been thinking for the last thirty minutes—ever since her new acquaintance had commandeered the meeting.
“You know, you were pretty rude at that meeting,” she said.
“Yeah, well,” Margo answered with a shrug.
“I mean, you were great, but rude.”
Margo looked at her seriously and said, “Listen, do you smoke?”
“Of course not,” Elodie answered.
“Yeah, me neither.” Then she asked, “Why were you at that meeting?”
Elodie was taken aback at the change of subject, especially since that question was the very one that she was trying to work her way to asking Margo. “I told you, it’s complicated.”
“Well, I can do complicated.” Margo smiled slightly, and Elodie noticed the girl’s freckles for the first time. Swoon.
Elodie took a breath. “Okay, my parents are lesbians.”
“Whoa,” said Margo. “I really didn’t see that one coming.”
“Look, I’m going to get some fries. You want me to get you something? Coffee?”
“Sure. And a slice of veggie pizza.”
“You’re a vegetarian?” Elodie asked.
“I am today,” Margo answered.
It took a few minutes for Elodie to place and pay for her order and when she got back, she noticed Margo looking through her books with a puzzled expression.
“Kind of nosy, aren’t you?” Elodie asked.
“Yeah, I mean no. I mean I find you really interesting.”
“Me? Why?” Elodie asked honestly.
“Well, look at you,” Margo began. “With that haircut and those cute ears of yours, you look like a pixie. But you drive a car that most race drivers would envy, you have two mothers, and you carry around a book in Chinese. Like, does the school even teach Chinese?”
Elodie laughed. “No,” she said. “But I learned it when I was a baby and I don’t want to forget it. My English class is reading Lord of the Flies, so I ordered a Chinese translation.”
“Anything else I should know about you?” Margo asked.
“Well, I’m a math freak, I’m trying out for the tennis team, and I’m pretty sure I like girls.”
“Well, pound my head against the wall,” said Margo.
“And no one has ever called my ears cute before.”
At that moment, Elodie’s name was called and she got up to fetch her order. It wasn’t until Elodie was actually squirting ketchup on her fries, that Margo began speaking again. “A math freak, huh?”
Elodie, crammed a fry into her mouth and nodded. Then she blinked as she noticed that Margo had blue eyes.
“What I really meant to ask,” said Margo, “is what do you mean you think you like girls?”
Elodie lo
oked around to see if anyone else was listening, then shrugged. “I mean, it’s so tacky. My mothers are lesbians so I’m one, too?”
“I don’t think gender identification is hereditary, so, yeah, I guess it may be a little coincidental.”
“No, no, that’s not it,” explained Elodie. “I’m adopted, so I’m not related to either of my parents. As far as I know, my birth mother was straight.”
“You know,” Margo said, “instead of asking you stuff, maybe I should just stick my head into a wasp’s nest.”
“That’s funny,” Elodie smiled. “But I think about that whole nature or nurture thing all the time. Would I like girls if I hadn’t grown up with lesbians?”
“Sounds like a topic for a paper,” said Margo.
“Don’t tempt me, I’m too busy already.”
Margo took a couple bites of her pizza. “So what makes you think you’re a lesbian?”
Elodie laughed. “What a great question,” she said. It was one she had been asking herself for the last several months. “Okay, look. At school, or even in places like this, I see a lot of kids who have coupled up. Holding hands, brushing their shoulders together when they walk; romantic stuff like that. I envy them. I want to have somebody to rub shoulders against, too, but when I study each couple, it’s the girl I want to be with, not the boy.”
Elodie felt like she was off and running, like she was chasing a lob back toward the baseline of a tennis court. She had waited a long time to talk to someone about this and she couldn’t back out now. Margo had been at the GSA meeting, right? So she must be safe, right?
“For example,” she continued. “As tacky as it sounds, the girl who’s going to be the Number 1 player on the girls’ tennis team is dating the Number 1 player on the boys’ team. The girl’s name is Bryn, and she’s so hot. Blond hair in a perfect ponytail, beautiful strokes, dynamite backhand, wears the latest tennis outfits. God, I want to be her doubles partner in the worst way.”
“And her boyfriend?” asked Margo.
“What about him?” asked Elodie.