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Bassets and Blackmail Page 4
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Page 4
“Good luck with that.”
“Yeah. See you in the morning. Bye.”
“Bye.” I hung up, placing the phone on the table by my head, and hugged Paw. “Shelbee thinks we find trouble.”
He rolled his eyes up at me, innocent expression on his face.
The phone rang, and I jerked as the sound blared into my ear. Disturbed, Paw woofed.
Thinking it was Shelbee, I picked it up, saying, “I promise to try on the costume.”
A deep male voice said with suggestive humor, “What kind of costume is it? A French maid’s? An alluring vampiress?”
“You wish,” I said to my boyfriend, Bruce Sever.
“A guy can dream.”
“Mmmhm. So can a girl.”
Bruce's hearty laughed boomed from the phone. “Why are you trying on a costume? Halloween is weeks away.”
“It's for the murder mystery game at the B&B. Remember? I have a small role as a desk clerk.”
“Ah, you did tell me. Shame it's as a desk clerk. You'd look adorable as a maid.”
“Ha. Ha. How's your vacation?”
“Done. We cut our visit short because Tyler got called in.” Tyler worked as a security consultant. “The rest of the guys decided to go home.”
“Sorry to hear it. I know you were looking forward to seeing them.”
“We got some good fishing in and caught up on old times. I'm heading home and thought we could spend the weekend together, but I guess you're busy.” His voice held an edge of sadness.
Paw woofed into the phone.
Bruce spoke to him. “Hey, big guy, how you doing? Keeping her safe?”
Paw woofed and slobbered the phone in his delight to speak to Bruce.
I wiped the phone of drool with my sleeve and pushed Paw back.
“He's happy to hear that you're coming home.” I softened my voice. “As am I.”
“Can we spend time together?”
“Of course. My role is only a few lines early tomorrow; then I have the rest of the weekend free.”
“Great. I'll be home early this morning.” I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was past midnight, closing in on one.
“Why not come to the B&B and once I'm finished we can go out for lunch.”
“Sounds good. See you soon. Love you.” Paw woofed. “You too, Paw.”
“I love you. See you.”
I hung up the phone.
“Come on, boy. Let's go up to bed.”
Paw jumped up, tail wagging, and headed to the stairs. I stopped to turn off the light sitting by the phone on the side table. A nightlight at the top of the stairs dimly lit my way as I dragged myself up the steps.
I yawned deeply.
By the time I reached the bedroom, Paw had jumped up onto the bed and was turning around in circles. I left him to his nightly ritual and crossed to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
I loved the old-fashioned bathroom with its claw foot tub. The house had been built a hundred years ago and required a never-ending list of repairs, but I cherished it. This house had been my grandmother's home all her life. When she passed away, I was shocked to discover that she had left the house to me. Fortunately, the house was paid off, and Jac's dad charged reasonable rates to fix whatever went wrong.
I replaced my toothbrush in its holder, changed into my nightgown, and switched off the light.
Paw stretched across the bed, eyes closed, waiting for me. He opened one eye as I sat on the edge of the bed.
“Move over.” I nudged him.
He whimpered then rolled onto his back. I shook my head, figuring that was the most cooperation I would get from him.
I turned to the nightstand, glanced at the clock—1:00 am—and set the alarm. We needed to get up by 5:00. It was going to be a short night. I turned off the bedside lamp and crawled under the covers, falling asleep immediately.
My legs were pinned. I struggled to move while an incessant ringing sounded in my head. Everything was dark, and I felt both hot and cold.
“Woof!”
I jerked awake. The telephone was ringing by my bedside. I reached across, barely managing to lift the receiver. I looked down and discovered the source of my immobility. My two hundred plus pound Saint Bernard was laying across my lower body.
“Woof!” Paw said, staring at the phone.
As I dragged the phone to me, I hit the alarm clock, knocking it onto the floor with a thud.
“Hello.” I pushed Paw off me.
Shelbee's tense voice whispered, “Cafferty's dead.”
Chapter 4
“What?” I garbled as I rubbed my eyes to clear them of sleep.
Paw knew her voice too and had moved farther up the bed placing a heavy paw across my chest to snuffle the phone. I gave him a firm, but loving shove out of my face.
Trying to breathe from under a heavy paw, I glanced at the clock. Two in the morning.
“What's wrong?” I asked.
“I told you. Cafferty's dead. We need you here.”
“How did he die?”
“He fell down the basement stairs.”
My mind was beginning to wake up. “Why do you need me?”
“Because, silly, I don’t think it’s an accident.”
I sat up, pushing Paw off me. “How do you know that?”
Shelbee raised her voice. “The murder mystery clue bottle is lying next to his body, and that bottle of wine William showed off at dinner is missing.”
She lowered her voice. “I don't know what happened, but I've called the police. Your uncle will be here any minute. The thing is, Robert is worried that your uncle will accuse one of us since we were the last ones to handle the mystery bottle.”
“Uncle wouldn't arrest anyone without probable cause.”
“I know that, but Robert isn’t the only one worried. William and your uncle Harry have had verbal fights at the last two town meetings. Patricia’s afraid Harry will think William pushed Cafferty for stealing his wine.”
“She's jumping to conclusions.”
“Probably.”
I yawned. “I'll be there in a few minutes.”
I hung up the phone, climbed out of bed, and picked up the clock. 2:10 am. No wonder I felt so groggy. I dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, adding a sweater on top.
Paw led the way out of the bedroom and down the stairs. I grabbed my car keys, purse, and a jacket then walked out the door, locking it behind me.
Outside, Paw visited several bushes. How he could go again after the many times he had stopped on our way home mystified me. Once done, he trotted to the car's passenger side and woofed to get in.
Once we were both in the car, I started up, put the car in reverse, and started to back out, stopping at the sound of a siren. I waited as a police car with flashing lights flew past, then backed out onto the street and drove to the B and B.
“Woof!”
I pulled to the side of the road as a second police cruiser sped past me. No sirens, just lights flashing on this one.
I turned onto Curzon then left onto Park Lane. I slowed down as I reached the top of the hill where the B and B sat, lights blazing in every window. Police cars were parked askew in the inn's driveway with lights still flashing. I pulled up to the curb and stopped, put on the emergency brake, and turned off the engine.
Uncle Harry stood on the porch, hands on hips, staring at my car. He shook his head and motioned for me to join him.
I sighed and opened my door, holding it open for Paw to jump out, then retrieved my bag.
Paw bounded across the lawn and up the porch steps, slamming into Harry and wagging his tail.
Harry grabbed Paw's collar to keep my dog from slobbering his face. In a deep, gruff voice, he said, “Down, Paw! Yes. Yes. I love you too. Now, get down. Sit!”
Paw got down and sat.
I goggled at him. “He never obeys like that.”
Harry pet Paw's back. “You don't use a commanding voice.”
I shook my head, thinkin
g Harry was wrong. Paw had chosen to sit instead of obeying Harry's command, but I chose not to argue with my uncle.
Harry glared at me. “What are you doing here?”
“I'm here to help.”
“This is a police matter. I don't need a civilian’s help.”
“Uncle, you know I've helped on previous cases.”
He grumbled under his breath. “More like interference.” Then said, “Go home.”
I crossed my arms. “I can't do that, Uncle. Shelbee called and asked me to come.”
“Shelbee isn't running this investigation. I am.”
My eyes widened as a woman stepped onto the porch from the front door.
Paw woofed and stood up, wagging his tail, then trotted over to greet her.
Harry ignored Paw and turned to his wife.
My aunt, Alma, never accompanied my uncle when he was on police work. She was in her early-fifties with light brown hair and merry brown eyes. Formerly Harry’s secretary, Alma (nee May) resigned her position when she married Harry, citing conflict of interest.
Alma placed her hand on my uncle's arm. “Harry, dear, let Clarissa inside. I know her friends are eager to see her.”
Harry grumbled then nodded at me and jerked his head toward the door.
Alma bent and hugged Paw who wriggled at the loving attention. “How's my favorite Saint Bernard?”
Paw woofed and slurped her face.
From the corner of my eye, I glimpsed Harry smiling at their antics.
Alma straightened, turned, and led the way through the open front door, Paw following on her heels. As I stepped into the house, I saw several officers clustered on the left side of the central staircase talking amongst themselves. An open door, situated behind the staircase on the private kitchen side of the hall, stood open. The basement door, I guessed.
I heard a noise to my right and turned in time to brace for Samuel's joyous body slam. I staggered, and Harry grabbed my arm. I hadn't realized that he had walked in behind me.
A chorus of woofs ensued as Samuel and Paw conversed.
Harry scowled at the ear-piercing welcome. “Quiet!”
Both dogs stopped barking, and the officers stopped conversing.
Shelbee walked into the ensuing silence from the living room on the right side of the foyer. She smiled at Uncle Harry, waved at Alma, and stopped next to me. “You got here fast.”
Shelbee had the knack of calming any situation. It's one reason her pet sitting skills were sought out across the county.
She turned to Harry. “Shall I take Clarissa into the living room with everyone else?”
“Yeah. Do that. But no discussing the case until you give your statements. Same goes for the others.”
Shelbee saluted which I was sure would anger Harry. Instead, he suppressed a grin, waved us away, and strode over to his men.
Alma hugged me. “I’ll see you later, sugar.” She ruffled Paw’s fur then joined Harry.
Shelbee and I led the dogs into the living room. An officer stood guard near the doorway to ensure we didn’t speak to each other.
Besides Shelbee and I, everyone from the night before was in the room. Patricia huddled on the arm of an easy chair dressed in a purple robe. Her face looked haggard, and she leaned against William who shifted restlessly in the chair. William had pulled on jeans but still wore his pajama top of faded blue stripes. He scratched at his beard as he stared straight ahead, absently rubbing Patricia’s arm.
Donna Dayton perched on the sofa beside her husband, James, who bent forward holding his head between his hands. James wore the same clothes I'd seen him in last night. His shirt was rumpled and hung askew on his shoulders as if he had slept in them. Donna wore a pair of black sweatpants and a blue tank top. I couldn't decide if she wore them for sleep or had thrown them on in a hurry.
Madeline Wells and Karen Taylor sat next to each other on the love seat. Madeline who wore a flowered nightgown which peeked beneath a light blue robe twisted her hands in her lap. She focused her attention on her hands. To my surprise, Karen Taylor was dressed to perfection in a deep blue pantsuit. Her hair was styled, and makeup applied, a sharp contrast to Madeline's disheveled hair and tear-streaked face.
Behind them, Robert paced back and forth. Every step he took, he ran a hand through his hair. He wore black pants and an untucked white shirt with a robe thrown on overtop.
The officer paid no attention to us as he stood statue-still and calm.
Someone was missing. I glanced around trying to determine who was missing besides Cafferty, of course.
Jessica. Cafferty's companion. Was she injured or killed? Shelbee had mentioned Cafferty's death. Could Jessica have been involved?
Plus, where was Jac? I thought she was staying the night at the inn. The cats, Kathleen and Rascal, plus Bitsy and Henry were missing too.
As I opened my mouth to ask Shelbee where they were, I heard a click and turned to find Jac opening the living room door with a tray of coffee clutched in her hands.
The officer held the door open and Jac smiled her thanks. She set the tray on the central coffee table. As she did so, the spoons and cups rattled.
“Stop that horrible noise! It's too loud!” James cried, clutching his head and rocking from side to side.
Donna shrugged and patted his back. To the room, she mouthed “Sorry, hangover.”
Robert, who had stilled at this outburst, resumed pacing.
Madeline was lost in her own thoughts, but Karen pinched her mouth in disgust.
Patricia stared in shock at James while William grimaced.
Jac filled cups with coffee, taking care not to make a sound. She handed the first cup to Patricia who grasped it in shaking hands. William shook his head in the negative when Jac offered him a cup.
Jac filled two more cups and handed them to Madeline and Karen.
Karen took the first cup and placed Madeline's hands around it, saying, “Drink. It'll help.”
When Madeline didn't respond, Karen lifted Madeline's hands with the cup clutched in them and urged her to drink. Madeline took a few sips and Karen released her hands back to her lap. She accepted her own cup from Jac, nodded in thanks, and took a deep drink of coffee.
Jac turned to Donna and gestured to the coffee. Donna nodded then accepted the cup Jac poured. She forced one of James’ hands from his head and thrust the cup into his palm.
James grunted and sniffed the coffee then jerked splashing coffee across himself and the floor as a loud bugling noise sounded from outside. “What the h—”
James didn't finish because another loud bugling cut him off. By now, William, Patricia, and the rest of the guests flocked to the windows to see the source of the noise.
“Woof! Woof!” Paw and Samuel added to the noise.
The police officer never moved, and Jac, Shelbee, and I shook our heads in amusement.
Shelbee sighed. “That sound is undignified for a man in his position.”
I shrugged. “No one is ever going to change him.”
The man in question was Hal McFarlane, my uncle’s best friend and coroner for this area. Hal stood a little over five feet, but his diminutive stature belied a robust and energetic personality. Argumentative too.
He had a bugling horn installed in his late 1950s sedan and loved to use it. Uncle Harry considered him to be the best coroner he had ever worked with in his career. Conveniently, Hal lived in Tranquil Valley.
The bugling stopped as the shouting began.
Paw cocked his head, whining softly as he listened to the loud banter between Hal and Harry outside. Even inside, much of the conversation was easy to hear.
“What'd you get me out of bed for this time?” Hal's voice held a note of sleep to it.
Harry grumbled. “Since when do you sleep all night anyway?”
“That's my point. For once I was asleep until you called.”
I patted Paw's back. He sighed and settled at my feet, head on paws.
Alma spoke
in a voice so soft I missed some of her words. “Hal ---know---be here.”
Hal laughed. “Even got your wife here. Good to see you, Alma.” His voice boomed as they entered the house and stopped outside the living room doors.
“Where's the body?”
I noticed Madeline flinch at Hal's question.
Harry said in a curt voice, “This way.”
As the men's voices moved away, the officer spoke. “Everyone should return to their seats.”
William nodded and led Patricia over to the chair they had vacated. Robert refilled his cup of coffee as Karen led Madeline to the sofa. Donna urged James to his seat as Shelbee helped Jac wipe up the floor. James ignored the coffee soaking into his clothes in favor of holding his head in his hands again.
We sat in silence several moments before another set of raised voices broke the quiet.
A woman's nasally voice said, “I was not sneaking out. I needed to breathe.”
A male voice spoke, “Ma'am. You can't be outside. We require all guests to stay in the living room.”
“That's ridiculous. My boyfriend is dead, and you expect me to sit around with his murderer!”
Chapter 5
Everyone's head turned toward the doors. With a growl, James rushed to the door but was blocked by Officer Heldman.
Harry's voice rang through the house. “Who are you and who is murdered?”
Shelbee nudged me and I turned to face her. She mouthed, “Jessica.”
I nodded.
Jessica's harsh voice answered, “As if you don't know. You're here, aren't you?”
Harry's voice hinted at exasperation. “We're here investigating a death. No one said it was murder. Now who are you?”
“Jessica St. Clair.”
“And who is...was your boyfriend?”
“Thomas Cafferty.”
Harry grunted. “Then I have questions for you. Please go into the dining room and wait for me.”
High-heels clicked across the floor then stopped. A door closed nearby.
I heard faint barking and Paw's ears stood up.
Heavy footsteps approached our room before the door flew open.
Harry stood in the doorway, scowling. “Shelbee, go with Officer Banks.” He turned to Jac. “When she's done, you go next.”