The camera system was small and unobtrusive. A black cube about three inches on each side. The intruder must have known enough to search it out. I pushed away the idea that my home had been invaded by someone who knew me and my residence this well.
Benny had found his way to the hall and entered his carrier without incident. A first. I thanked him for understanding what I was going through and not causing me any further stress.
TWENTY-THREE
Benny was on the back seat of the Outback, buckled in through soft handles at the top and sides of his carrier.
I wished I could reach back and scratch his head, give him comfort, make him feel more at home, but there were the seatback and the latest model carrier in the way. I had to count on that recommended position to keep him safe. I hadn’t had time for the usual buildup of treats before coaxing Benny into his carrier. At the last minute I smoothed one of my ragged fleece sweatshirts onto the floor of the container and tossed in two bright squeaking balls. I felt I’d betrayed him, slamming the door to keep him inside. I kept up a constant stream of soothing words to assure him I hadn’t turned villain. It wasn’t more than twenty minutes to Doc Sherman’s, so I felt he would be okay.
I shuddered, thinking of the feeling Manny must have had the night he was in custody, having a full-size, real door slam in his face. I couldn’t imagine Deputy Josh caring whether he was comfortable. I was glad I’d been able to play a small part in freeing him.
Benny ran through his whole repertoire of sounds on the way to Doc Sherman’s. I heard meowing, purring, yowling, growling, chattering, hissing, and back to meowing. I knew he wanted my attention, but was it more than that?
Yes, I realized, and panicked yet one more time.
Mom!
Benny was reminding me to check on my mom.
I hit the hands-free link to my smartphone and called out Mom’s number.
What if Mom’s house had also been broken into? She was there, alone, as far as I knew. She’d have been in and out the last couple of days, shopping, looking in on the Bear Claw, straightening up the house. Dad would often tease-slash-annoy her by writing on dusty surfaces every now and then, carving, so to speak, their initials in the dust, complete with a surrounding heart. In my worst nightmare, she’d been home alone, removing all traces of dust, when the intruder came in.
The phone rang through to voicemail and I could hardly breathe. I thought of turning my vehicle in the direction of her house but we were almost at Doc Sherman’s. I clicked the phone link off, then on again, redialing Mom’s number.
“Hi, sweetie. I see you just called.”
At the sound of her voice, Benny settled down, leaning with his back against the wall of the carrier.
I needed to alarm and not alarm my mom at the same time. “Are you busy?”
“I was taking banana muffins out of the oven, which is why I didn’t pick up a minute ago.”
My dad’s favorite muffins. I blew out such a loud breath, I steamed up my windshield. Now what? I was still working out whether to tell my mom immediately that my house had been invaded. Should I tell her the truth so she’d get out of her house in case the intruder was on his way there? Not tell her, and risk her safety?
I thought of a compromise, inspired by Benny’s measured meows. “Mom, Benny’s not doing so well right now. I’m on my way to Doc’s. Can you meet me there?”
“What’s wrong with him?” I heard panic in her voice, but that was better than hearing her screams. Or nothing at all.
“I’m not sure. Just meet me there, okay?”
“I’m on my way.”
I had just enough time to create a scenario in my mind. With no clear evidence, I decided that someone knew I had Oliver’s cookbook. They might even think I still had his will, the sheet with details of the disposition of his cash. It was hard to imagine anyone looking for his letters to Genevieve, but I couldn’t rule it out.
The cookbook was in the box under my bed. Or was it? In my rush to protect Benny and leave the house, I hadn’t checked on the box. It wasn’t out in the room, which might mean it was still in its place. I couldn’t imagine the intruder pushing the box neatly back under the bed. He certainly hadn’t been careful with anything else as he went through my possessions. The most careful thing he did was cover the Bennycam.
Would this never end? Would there ever be a day when all these loose ends would be tied up? It came to me that I needed Chris. He knew more than even Trooper did what we’d uncovered. I might have to swallow my pride and reach out to him.
Kendra knew Chris and I had been upstairs in Oliver’s house. I hadn’t expected her to buy the story about my finding Oliver’s will in his desk at the Bear Claw. Could Kendra have been my intruder? Looking for the cookbook? Might she have sent Stanley?
I pulled up to Doc Sherman’s office. It was time to let Benny know the reason for this rushed trip.
* * *
* * *
The good Doc had always claimed that his first love was veterinary medicine, and every time I’d seen him with one of my pets during my childhood, I believed him. Doc’s exam room sported wall-to-wall posters featuring the anatomically detailed bodies of every animal I’d ever seen or fed. I’d courted as pets a parade of dogs, on the larger side of the pet spectrum, plus rats, hamsters, rabbits, and, briefly, a turtle. As a kid, I’d search for the drawing that matched my pet and try to follow what Doc was doing. For a long time, my parents were sure I’d enter a medical field and perhaps had held out that hope. They didn’t know yet that I couldn’t stand the sight of blood.
Benny was my first cat, and now I wondered how I’d lived without him.
“How is he, Doc?” I asked again, just before I was politely ushered out of the exam room by his nurse. Apparently, my loud pacing and questioning were interfering with the procedure. I must have been more docile as a kid, since Doc had never thrown me out. Maybe he, too, had been hoping I’d follow in his footsteps.
“Mr. Eggs Benedict here knows us, Charlie,” he said. “I think we’ll do better if you keep your mom company in the waiting room.”
Subtle, but clear. I entered the waiting room, where the posters featured animals in their natural habitats. Bears, bison, deer, elk, mountain goats, a moose with magnificent antlers. None of them with X-ray views showing their innards.
Mom was pacing, but quietly. “You have to tell me what’s going on, Charlie.”
We took seats together and I started on what I’d found when I arrived home, playing down the panic I’d felt. I didn’t get far before the outside door opened and Trooper and Chris walked in. I wasn’t ready to talk to either of them, for different reasons, but I didn’t have much choice, unless I wanted to revert to what Trooper called my “short fuse” and make a dash past them, out the door. Not without Benny, I reasoned.
My mom eased the transition.
“Trooper!” she said. “Did you know about this?” She pointed to me as if I had a blueprint of my house on my face with details of the break-in written on it.
“Not until Freddie told me.”
Who knew that Frederica, the day dispatcher in the station house, actually kept track of callers and disseminated information so efficiently? I’d have to keep that in mind for future emergencies, of which I hoped there would be none.
“What are we going to do?” Mom asked, meaning What are you, State Trooper Graham, going to do?
“We’ve already sent a couple of civilian volunteers who are certified in forensics to see what they can pick up at Charlie’s by way of fingerprints, tire tracks, that kind of thing.” He looked at me. “We’d usually clear that with you first, but I assumed that as long as Benny was out of the house it would be okay with you?”
I nodded, still avoiding eye contact with Chris.
Trooper, doing a great job of taking charge, next instructed Mom and me to stay together ton
ight, monitored by another of his staff of volunteers.
“We’ll get a car there. Your only choice is whose house,” he said.
Really, it was Benny who got to choose. Mom and I thought he’d be better off at her house, where there had been no recent trauma.
“Finally, we’re all going to get together”—Trooper swept his hand to include all present in the waiting room—“all you deputies, and pool what we have so far, and solve this thing. I don’t care who’s not happy with who else at the moment. Forget it for now. Understood? Are we all in?” His tone left no room for anything other than affirmation.
I felt Chris’s eyes on me, but I wouldn’t look in his direction, as we all nodded.
“One more thing, to clear that elephant out of the room,” Trooper continued. “Charlie, Chris tells me he had nothing to do with the article in the Bugle, except to fill out a mandatory report to his boss to account for his time out of the office this week.”
“But the byline—”
He held his hand up. “Stop, Charlie. Let me finish. Chris told the old man it had to be confidential for the time being. But you all know Wally—he never did understand he wasn’t supposed to be putting out Elkview’s version of a tabloid. And weasel that he is, he had the nerve to think I’d believe his story that he used Chris’s name for the writer so Chris would have all the credit.”
“I’m really sorry, Charlie,” Chris blurted out. It sounded like he’d been holding his breath for many minutes, perhaps hours, waiting to talk. “The last thing I wanted was to dis Manny or in any way jeopardize the investigation. In retrospect, I never should have told Wally anything, boss or no boss.”
To her credit, Mom did not offer an opinion of any kind, but sat with her hands folded, as if to keep from clapping.
I was left feeling like one who had rushed to judgment, which is exactly what I’d done. I was at least grateful that there was no one else but us in Doc’s waiting room.
“I’m sorry, too,” I told Chris. “I had every reason to trust you, and I should have given you a chance to explain.”
“It’s okay,” Chris said.
“There, now,” Trooper said. “Isn’t it good when we can play nice? Apologies accepted all around?”
The four-way laugh was a nice segue to the entrance of Doc and Benny into the waiting area.
“What’s so funny?” Doc asked.
“It’s a long story,” Trooper said.
Doc smiled. “I’ll pass, then. My own story is that Benny is fine.”
We all joined Mom, who started the round of clapping.
Doc had tucked Benny, who was either sleeping or anesthetized, back into his carrier and set him on the table with the out-of-date magazines.
“I gave him a few antianxiety drops,” he said, handing me a small package. “He should be completely calmed down by tomorrow morning, assuming nothing else upsets him. If not, give him another dose of three or four drops. Right now, Benny’s as good as new.”
That was enough to give me a new spurt of energy.
* * *
* * *
Chris insisted on accompanying me to my house to pick up an overnight bag.
“You missed the steering wheel, didn’t you?”
“I missed you,” he said as he caught the keys I threw him in midair.
When we reached my house, a queasy feeling came over me. I’d underestimated how hard it would be to walk into my house again, and I was glad Chris was with me. The memory of rushing Benny out was still fresh in my mind. The already rough condition of the place was made worse by the black powder spread around by Trooper’s volunteers to collect fingerprints. Elkview forensics people were not afforded the latest in dustless print technology. But if the prints helped identify the intruder, I’d be more than happy to clean up the mess.
“This is awful, Charlie,” Chris said. He shook his head. “I hate that you had to come home to this.”
Before I could respond, he drew me into a hug. “It was more awful when I thought I’d lost you because of a lack of judgment on my part. I’m not asking for anything more than to earn back your trust.”
It was a good start, and even more so when Chris thought of collecting some of Benny’s treats and toys and making him an overnight bag of his own, and also offered to come back when I was ready to clean up the fingerprint dust.
“Trooper is asking for us to be all in, no more working around him,” I said.
Or each other was in my mind.
“You’re thinking we should come clean about our visit to Oliver’s house?”
“Maybe if we just show him what we picked up there? I mean the cookbook. Maybe he won’t grill us?”
“From your lips,” Chris said.
Chris followed me as I dragged the storage box from under the guest bed. Relieved to see the two hefty volumes, I removed them and handed them to Chris.
“What’s the rest of that stuff?” Chris asked.
“Kid stuff,” I said, and pushed the box with its ticket stubs and angst-laden diaries back into its hiding place. Someday, I was going to have to weed through my teen memorabilia before it was too late. It hurt to realize that “too late” was what had happened to Oliver.
To distract Chris from further queries, I shared another thought. “Let’s call Annie,” I said. “If Pierre has already left for the Arctic, she may need a distraction.”
“And she is a deputy, after all.”
A minute later, I heard Annie’s typically excited voice. Yes, she’d be happy to join us. She had some news to share about Pierre. I did my best to cut her off gently with the promise of listening to her whole story when she got to my mom’s.
I stuffed the two-volume cookbook by Oliver Blanchard into my tote, the one that also held the packet of letters from Genevieve. Who was I to accuse Chris of duplicity when I hadn’t been one hundred percent forthcoming with him?
We were almost at the door. “Wait,” I said. “I need to show you something. Have a seat.”
Chris moved a chair and sat. I took the rocker. I dug the letters from my tote and explained to Chris where I’d found them.
“I just got around to looking at them,” I said. In other words, I haven’t been keeping these from you for very long.
He took a minute to read the only one in English. “Well, there’s the cookbook. I wonder who’s M. P. M., who’s not a nice man? Oliver’s killer? Over the cookbook?”
“But look at the date. Whoever it is has waited a long time.”
“Sure, but . . .” Chris shrugged. “And what about ‘if not in this life’? Do you think she killed herself over this breakup? Wow, it’s all coming together, isn’t it?”
I took a breath. “A clue that points to Oliver’s having to leave Paris because of a nasty man, leave this woman who loved him and whom he loved, I’m guessing. Then, decades later, he’s tracked down and killed.”
“By this M. P. M.”
“Maybe. After almost making it out safely again, from Elkview this time.”
“Pretty wild if it’s true,” Chris said.
“Can all of this be over a cookbook?” I asked. “It doesn’t seem like enough. Say the recipes were stolen from this M. P. M. and plagiarized—and I’m not saying Oliver did plagiarize them—why kill him? Why not just sue him for millions of dollars, for example? There must have been some proof of ownership. Some paperwork, or people who could vouch for M. P. M.”
“And it wouldn’t be too late, since apparently it hasn’t been published,” Chris noted.
“Plus, wouldn’t the guy—I’m assuming a guy—have more recipes than the ones in this book? Why not just publish them? Would these particular recipes be worth killing over?”
Chris shrugged. “It doesn’t seem so. But we know people have killed for less.”
“Still, I can’t help feeling there�
��s something else. Something more personal.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s in the letters,” I said.
“I guess we need a way to translate the French,” he said.
“We might be able to piece them together with Google.”
“We should do that before we show them to Trooper.”
“I agree.”
“We don’t have time now, though. We should probably head out,” he said.
I nodded. “I’m feeling the way my Catholic friends did when it was time for confession.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Chris and I made a side trip to the Bear Claw before returning to Mom’s house for the meeting Trooper had called. We picked up an order we’d phoned in from the car. When you hung around with diner folk, you never convened without food. Tammy and Bert, well trained by Victor and Nina, had filled a large cooler with an assortment of sandwiches, sides, and drinks. Not that we needed the thermal container. All we’d have to do is open the windows to the twenty-degree air, and the car itself would become a cooler.
When we got to Mom’s, I saw that Benny had already found the nooks and crannies he remembered from the time he’d lived there. We had a good laugh while we watched him try to get into Dad’s floppy slipper, a feat that would have been easy for the younger Benny. Once we all started talking, Benny disappeared. I knew he’d be back when the containers from the Bear Claw were opened.
We sat in the living room while Trooper ran through questions to me. What time did I leave the house this morning? What time did I return? Had I seen any strange vehicles on the street lately? A new person walking a dog? Any threats by mail? By phone?
I did my best to answer. I estimated the house was empty except for Benny from about ten in the morning until three or so in the afternoon. No strange interactions unless you counted Kendra’s rudeness. And the covered-up Bennycam.
“How do you think this guy knew enough to find and cover up a small camera?” Trooper asked.
Mousse and Murder Page 22
