by V. M. Burns
Aggie put her whole body into the tail wag and turned in circles.
I laughed and scooped her up and headed into the living room. I grabbed some plastic bags from a drawer and Aggie’s leash. “We’re going for a walk. We’ll be back soon.”
I didn’t wait for a response but headed out.
I was halfway down the street before I realized I was being ridiculous. Red was a paid law-enforcement officer. He was here to do a job. Plus, he was a grown man and didn’t owe me an apology or an explanation. I slowed down, which I think Aggie appreciated as she no longer needed to run to keep up with the pace I’d set. When I looked down at her panting by my side, I couldn’t help but laugh.
“I’m sorry, girl. Let’s take a break.”
I headed for the gazebo and sat down. I didn’t want to analyze my feelings, but they flooded in on me anyway. I admitted to myself that I was attracted to Red. After being married for over twenty-five years and then having my husband toss me aside like a used tissue for a woman less than half my age, I was feeling insecure. I thought Red liked me and felt the same attraction, but maybe he was only in my life to solve the murders. “The best thing would be to get these murders behind us and then see what happens, right?” I looked at Aggie, who was watching a bird perched on the gazebo railing.
“Did you say something?”
I looked up. The association president, Jackson Phillips, looked at me.
“Sorry, I was talking to myself,” I admitted. “I don’t worry until I start responding,” I joked.
“I was walking by and saw you sitting here and just wondered if you had any questions?”
I tilted my head and looked puzzled. “Questions?”
“About being treasurer for the subdivision.” He stared. “I thought Carol Lynn told you, but I can tell by your face she didn’t.”
I shook my head.
He walked up the three steps onto the gazebo and sat near me. “One of the actions we needed to take care of at the last meeting was voting on the officers for the new year. Normally, it’s pretty straightforward. However, after the...excitement at the meeting, we ended up holding a special session to vote on the slate of officers.”
I waited.
“Since you’re only renting, you weren’t included,” he hurriedly added.
“Okay.”
“Like I said, normally it’s pretty straightforward and everyone votes in the slate of officers, no questions.” He was sweating and wiped his brow.
“I take it this time was different.”
He grinned. “Yep. This time Theodore made a number of allegations about our treasurer, which sent the meeting into a tailspin.”
“What kind of allegations?”
“Embezzlement. He accused the treasurer of embezzling association funds. He didn’t have any proof, and nothing could be substantiated, but the charges were so severe that we will have to investigate.”
“Accusing someone of embezzlement is very serious. He must have mentioned some reason why he suspected the person.” I shook my head. “I mean, as abrasive as Theodore Livingston was, would he really risk ruining someone’s reputation without just cause?”
“Theodore Livingston was a mean, hateful, vengeful man, and I have no doubt he would.” Jackson Phillips stood and paced in the small gazebo. “He’s done it before.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
Jackson stopped pacing. He turned and faced me. “Theodore Livingston and I used to work together.”
I must have let the surprise show on my face because he gave me a snide look and then nodded.
“Surprised?” He hesitated but eventually sighed. “I was the chief scientist for the Environmental Protection Agency, and Theodore was a junior scientist.” He sneered and took a deep breath. “He accused me of negligence that led to a death.”
“What kind of death?” I hated to stop the flow of information, but I was curious.
He shook his head. “A man died when his house was swallowed by a sinkhole.” His voice grew soft. “There was a large amount of limestone under the property.” His eyes pleaded. “There’s limestone underground throughout this area. It rarely causes a sinkhole of this size and magnitude, and rarely does anyone die from it.”
“What happened this time?”
He took a deep breath. “Excessive rain and poor drainage led to excess water, which eroded the limestone.”
“That doesn’t sound like your fault. That sounds like natural causes.”
He shook his head. “It was, but I had been going through a rough time. My wife and I were separated, and I was drinking a lot.” He gulped. “He accused me of negligence. I was fired. My wife left me. I lost everything.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He smiled. “The victim’s family sued me. Thankfully, the case was eventually thrown out, but I spent every dime I had on attorneys. After that, I couldn’t get a job in my field. I finally found a job as an elementary school science teacher.”
“How is it that you and Theodore Livingston live in the same subdivision?”
He chuckled. “That is the worst of Theodore Livingston’s cruel streak. Just when I’d started to rebuild my life, here he comes. He moved in so he could gloat and make sure neither I nor anyone else ever forgot my shame.”
“You don’t mean he told your neighbors about...well, everything?”
“Oh yes. He made a point of it.”
“That had to make things awkward for you.”
He sighed. “Awkward? He made them impossible.” He pounded his fist into his hand. “Theodore Livingston was a horrible human being, and whoever killed him did the world a favor.”
Chapter 17
My face again registered shock, and Jackson Phillips shook himself and forced a smile. “I guess that makes me a prime candidate for his murderer.” He chuckled. “I wish I’d had the guts to kill him, but...I didn’t.”
I don’t think my face looked convincing, but I forced what I hoped was a sympathetic smile. “Well, I’m glad to hear that.” I rose from my seat in the gazebo.
“But that’s not what I stopped to talk to you about.”
I sat back down, picked up Aggie, and held her on my lap as a barrier between Jackson Phillips and me. “Oh yes, the association officers.”
“After Theodore’s accusations of embezzlement, there will have to be an audit and an official investigation. So we selected an interim treasurer to serve until the investigation is completed.”
I stared at Jackson Phillips. “You can’t be serious?”
He nodded. “Mrs. Hansen had mentioned you were a CPA, and so you were nominated.”
I didn’t know how long I stared at him, waiting for the punch line that never came. After what felt like an hour but was just a few seconds, I found my voice. “You have got to be joking. Me? How is that possible? I’m not even an official homeowner, remember?”
He shrugged. “Well, it is an interim assignment, and I think the homeowners appreciated the spunk you showed at the last meeting.”
I stood. “Spunk? You mean they liked the fact I struck that poor man?”
“Theodore Livingston was hardly an innocent, but the vote was unanimous.” He paused.
It took a minute for me to process the meaning of his words. “Unanimous? You mean Theodore Livingston voted for me?”
He nodded.
“But I have a job...well, it’s temporary, but I like it, and I don’t have time...I mean, I don’t even know how long I’ll be staying here.” I started to pace. “My landlord is dead, and the police think I might have had something to do with it. Besides, I don’t know what Mrs. Hansen will want to do now that her son, who owned the house, is dead. She could decide to throw me out.”
He shrugged. “I don’t think she will, but there really isn’t a lot of responsi
bility for the person who serves as treasurer. Collect the association fees and write a few checks for things like grounds maintenance and utilities for the community building.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Plus, it’s a paid position, and it is only temporary. Once we prove Theodore Livingston was just being his normal, vindictive self, then you can resign, and we can go back to normal.”
I didn’t want to accept, but maybe sitting with the other members of the board might help me find out more information that could help me figure out who killed Theodore Livingston. I sighed. “Okay.”
He released a breath and smiled. “Great. We have a board meeting Wednesday night. Will you be able to attend?”
I nodded.
“Great. We’ll see you at the community building at five-thirty.” He started to walk away.
“Wait, can I ask who the current treasurer was that Theodore Livingston accused of embezzlement?”
He turned. “Carol Lynn Hargrove.”
Chapter 18
I pondered everything Jackson Phillips told me during my walk back to the house, along with my behavior to Red. I was cold to a man who didn’t deserve it because I was hurt that he hadn’t shared information about his coming and going, which he was under no obligation to share. I never considered myself to be a jealous woman. However, after the experiences with my late husband, I was insecure. Nevertheless, none of this was Red’s fault. We weren’t in a relationship, and he was under no obligation to confide in me. I also acknowledged that thoughts of him were intruding, and I didn’t have time to deal with a relationship. I needed to figure out who killed my landlord and my next-door neighbor.
With that resolved, I walked into the house in a much better state. Red and Stephanie were sitting outside on the back deck. Dixie’s car was parked out front, so I wasn’t surprised to see her standing at the deck rail. When I got closer to the door, I saw they were watching the golden and Dixie’s two standard poodles in a game of tag. I took off Aggie’s leash and opened the door. She flew down the stairs, ready to join in the fun. At first, I’d been concerned about her getting hurt playing with the bigger, nearly sixty-pound dogs. After watching them play, I realized two things. First, the larger dogs were surprisingly gentle with her, a lot gentler when she was in the fray than when it was only big dogs. The second thing I realized was that Aggie was a lot faster than the bigger dogs and able to turn on a dime. Aggie leapt into the yard, and the chase ensued. She quickly left the three larger dogs eating her dust as she darted and dodged around the yard. Dixie had removed the pen, and the dogs raced around the empty lot behind the house.
“Don’t worry, I won’t let her escape, and if she does, Leia and Chyna will herd her back.” Dixie looked at me. “Although you really should get those zip ties to keep her from sliding the latch on the pen. Poodles are smart dogs, and she’ll get out if she wants to.”
“Sorry, I keep forgetting.” I stole a glance back at Stephanie. “Has the owner shown up?”
Dixie shook her head. “Not yet.”
The doorbell rang. “That must be him.” I started to get up, but Red beat me to the deck door.
“Perhaps you should let me?”
I nodded and watched as he went inside.
Stephanie wiped a tear. “Let’s get this over with.”
We rounded up the dogs, which proved a lot easier than I thought when Dixie pulled out a whistle and then held up her treat pouch.
The dogs bounded up the stairs. The poodles skidded to a stop in front of Dixie and plopped their butts onto the floor. The golden stood, tail wagging, and then sat. Aggie stood on her back legs and pawed at Dixie’s pants.
Dixie unzipped her treat pouch and pulled out some brown, foul-smelling lumps.
“Oh God, what is that?” I scrunched my nose.
“Dried liver.” Dixie tossed pieces to Leia and Chyna, who caught the treats in midair and scarfed them down. The golden also got a treat. “Sit.” She held up a piece of liver in front of Aggie’s nose and then moved the treat backward and down. When her butt hit the ground, she immediately gave her the treat and praised her profusely.
We glanced inside. Red was talking to a man who looked to be in his middle thirties with long dreadlocks pulled back into a ponytail. The two men headed to the back. Red opened the door.
The golden turned and headed to the stranger, tail wagging. He got on his back legs and placed his front paws on the man’s chest.
“Rusty, good boy.” The stranger hugged the dog, who clearly recognized him.
Stephanie swallowed hard, stood up, and walked over to the man. “Obviously, he knows you.” She looked lovingly at the golden. “But we don’t.”
The stranger looked up. “Sorry. Call me Barry.”
Stephanie looked suspiciously at the stranger. “Just Barry?” The lack of a last name hung in the air.
The man got down on one knee and buried his head in the dog’s coat.
I looked at Red, who shrugged and shook his head. “Barry, my name’s Lilly.”
Stephanie wasn’t quite ready to give up graciously. “Perhaps you can tell us how you happened to lose Rusty?”
Barry continued to pet the golden, who was now lying on his back while the man scratched his stomach. He waited so long, I didn’t think he’d answer. However, after a long pause, he sighed and rose to his feet. “I didn’t know I’d have to submit to an interrogation to get my dog back.”
“Well, now you know.” Stephanie put a hand on her hip and stared the stranger down. “I want to know how you misplaced your dog and why he was found injured and cowering under our deck?”
Barry’s eyes darted from Stephanie to Dixie and me. If he hoped to find help in our expressions, he was sadly mistaken.
“Animal abuse is a crime in Tennessee.” Dixie stared, hand on hip.
“Hey, I never abused my dog.”
“Really? Prove it. We found him starving with a badly damaged paw hiding under the deck. No microchip. No tattoo.” I used my mom voice and was happy to see him squirm.
“We put flyers up all over the neighborhood, veterinarians’ offices, shelters, and on Facebook and reported him to every rescue-dog organization within fifty miles. Yet you were nowhere to be found, and then you think you can just waltz in here and take him away like that?” Stephanie snapped her fingers.
“You’re crazy.” He grabbed the golden’s collar and turned to walk away but ran into Red, who stood like a brick wall between him and the door.
Red stood, arms folded, feet planted. His face was solid stone, and his eyes were granite. He slowly pulled out his shield and flashed it to the stranger. “I think you need to answer the ladies’ questions.”
Fear crossed the man’s face but vanished in a flash. He tried a change of tactics. He laughed. “Hey, I don’t want any trouble. I just came to get my dog.”
“Hey, is everything okay?”
I looked around and saw Michael and Charity Cunningham walking down the street. “Do you know him?” I pointed. “Because he claims Rusty is his dog.” I turned back to the wayward dog owner.
Barry’s face was as white as a sheet, and I saw panic reflected in his eyes. Before anyone knew what was happening, he pushed Stephanie to one side and raced down the deck stairs.
Red hurried after him but was slowed by the fact that Stephanie, three poodles and the golden, and I were blocking his path.
He looked at me. “You okay?”
I nodded, and he took off in pursuit.
When Michael and Charity Cunningham saw Red on the chase, rather than rubbernecking, hiding, or using their phones to call 9-1-1, they took off in pursuit.
We watched the action from the deck.
“What was that about?” Dixie asked.
“No idea.” I turned to Stephanie. “Are you okay?”
She nodded.
In a few minutes, Red came back and ran up the stairs. “Sorry, but he got away.”
For a brief moment, I wondered if he meant Barry or Michael Cunningham.
“Did you want us to call the police?” I asked.
He shook his head. “There’s no need. I’ve got to go back to work anyway.”
“Back to work?” I asked.
He nodded. “I went in early to take care of paperwork and get caught up on a few things.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to leave you ladies alone too long.”
I felt ashamed for my earlier behavior and wished I could have a rewind button.
Stephanie petted the golden we now knew as Rusty. “What’s wrong with your owner, boy?”
The golden wagged his tail and placed his head on her lap.
Red looked at his watch several times in less than a minute.
“You should go. We’ll be fine. We’ve got four dogs who, I have no doubt, will deter and defend if necessary.” I picked Aggie up and gave her a squeeze.
Red reached over and scratched Aggie behind her ear, causing her back leg to jiggle. “I have no doubt this little one will defend you with her last breath. She’s got the heart of a pit bull.”
Dixie leaned over. “In addition to the four dogs, I’ve got two guns in my car. When you leave, I’m bringing them in. If Barry comes back, I’ll turn him from a tenor to a soprano with one shot.”
Red smiled. “I hope you have a license to carry those weapons.”
“Of course I do.” Dixie folded her arms across her chest. “I pity the fool who tries to take my guns away.”
Red held up his hands in surrender. “No, ma’am, I wouldn’t dream of it.” He grinned. “I guess I’d better get to work.”
“Work. Oh my, that reminds me. I ran into Jackson Phillips when I was out walking Aggie.”
Red sat down and listened eagerly.
I told them what I’d learned from the association president and about my new job as subdivision treasurer.
