Pineapple Pack III

by Amy Vansant

  “Hey, Frank, glad you could come by,” said a tall sheriff in his mid-forties as he thrust out a hand to shake.

  “Hey, Carter.”

  Sheriff Carter’s gaze shifted to Charlotte as he and Frank shook their hellos.

  “Who’s this?”

  Frank turned and for a moment seemed surprised to find her standing there.

  “Oh, this is Charlotte. She—” Frank stopped, seeming to search for the right words to describe her. “She’s got the puppies.”

  Charlotte held out the box for Carter to see. “All but one. I’ll probably round up the spare by the end of the day.”

  “You found them roaming?”

  “No. Someone dropped them on the doorsteps of the Pineapple Port residents. I think someone hasn’t come forward with the sixth.”

  “Huh.” Carter took the box. “Mina!”

  A plump woman in a conservative black maid’s uniform appeared where the foyer turned into a living room at the back of the entrance. She wiped her hands on her white apron and looked at Carter expectantly.

  “These your puppies?”

  Mina moved to the box and gasped. “They are. Where did you find them?” She took the box from him as Carter nodded his head in Charlotte’s direction.

  “This little lady found them down the road at Pineapple Port.”

  Charlotte smiled at the woman but inside her brain growled.

  Little lady. Grr.

  “I don’t understand. What’s Pineapple Port?” asked Mina setting the box on the ground beside her.

  “It’s a retirement community. Someone left them on my neighbors’ doorsteps.”

  “Someone? Did you see who?”

  “No.”

  “Did you say neighbors?” asked Carter. “She your daughter, Frank?”

  Frank laughed and Charlotte thought she caught him blushing. “In a way maybe,” he said, winking at Charlotte. “But no. It’s a long story.”

  Mina’s attention dropped to the box. “There’s one missing.”

  “There is.” Charlotte pulled a card from her pocket and handed it to Mina. “I’m a private investigator. We hope to have the missing dog soon.”

  Mina reached to take her card and then recoiled. “I didn’t hire a private investigator.”

  “No. The two things are mutually exclusive in this case.”

  Mina looked down at the card in Charlotte’s outstretched hand as if it might bite her.

  “I just wanted you to have my number in case you want to check on progress or if you need anything in the future.”

  There. That was subtle, right? I didn’t actually say in case Kimber Miller was murdered.

  Mina took the card. “Thank you.”

  Charlotte began to feel the weight of other eyes on her, so she nodded and took a step back. She glanced at Frank. “I’ll wait outside.”

  Charlotte wandered back to the cruiser.

  Well, that went well. The big strapping sheriff calls me ‘little lady’ and then the maid acts as if my card is radioactive. Charlotte felt about ten years old from the beginning to the end of the whole exchange.

  Outside, the girl lunging her horse had disappeared. The rider had dismounted. A new woman stood beside her horse quickly unbraiding its mane, running her fingers through the wavy hair to fluff it as she went. She spotted Charlotte and smiled.

  “She brought the puppies back,” said the rider. With a toss of her hair, she strode toward the gate. “Take him to the barn when you’re done.”

  The woman at the braids watched the girl leave and then turned back to Charlotte to offer a second smile, this one seemingly apologetic. Whereas the rider had every hair in place, her riding breeches spotless and her white sleeveless blouse crisp, this woman seemed frazzled. Though older than the girl by maybe ten years, she was shorter, with broken strands of dark blonde hair escaping her ponytail and encircling her head like spun sugar. As she turned, Charlotte noticed she only wore only one earring.

  A small silver sphere.

  Charlotte thrust a hand into her pocket and fingered the matching earring in there. She’d brought it to remind herself to tell Frank about it, and then had forgotten anyway.

  “Sorry, Payne isn’t a big dog person. I’m Lyndsey. You brought the dogs back?”

  Charlotte nodded, unable to shake Lyndsey’s hand through the fence without making things awkward for both of them. “I’m Charlotte. I brought back all but one, but I think we’ll have number six soon.”

  “That’s amazing. Thank you so much. I was so worried about them.”

  “You’re missing an earring.” Charlotte pinched her own right earlobe to indicate which ear. Lyndsey mirrored the motion.

  “Oh shoot. I love these. Thanks.” Lyndsey glanced at the house and then looked around the dusty earth beneath her boots. “If it’s out here, it’s gone.”

  “Do you want me to help you look?”

  “No. They’re not expensive. Thanks though.”

  Charlotte spotted Payne walking from the barn toward the main residence. “They’re twins, aren’t they? The girls? His nieces?”

  Lyndsey nodded. “You’d never know it from their personalities though.”

  “Very different?”

  “Very. Payne lives up to her name and Gemma’s the quiet one.”

  “It seems all the twins I meet have a more dominating one.”

  “I suppose there’s naturally an alpha, like a little dog pack in the womb.” Lyndsey chuckled to herself and unbraided the last bunch of mane. “Thanks for bringing back the puppies. Mr. Miller would have been so happy to know they’re safe.”

  A sadness washed over the woman’s expression and she stared at the ground as if lost in thought.

  “Are you a relative?” asked Charlotte.

  “Hm? Oh, no. Not exactly. I’m a worker bee they took into the hive.”

  “But you’ve been here a long time?”

  Lyndsey smoothed the horse’s mane. “Since I was young. He took me in when my mother—” She cut short and shrugged. “She got into some trouble. She couldn’t take care of me anymore.”

  “He adopted you?”

  “Not officially, but in so many words.”

  “You work with the horses?”

  “Yes. That and odd errands here and there.”

  “Do you work with the dogs?”

  Lyndsey laughed. “No. I’d like to, but no one is allowed to touch the dogs except Mr. Miller, Mina and the groomer.”

  Really… Charlotte rolled the earring in her pocket between her fingers.

  “Mr. Miller took in the nieces when his sister died, too, didn’t he? He must have been a nice guy to have taken care of you all.”

  Lyndsey nodded. “Yes. He was a generous man.” She took the horses reins in hand. “I’m going to head back to the barn. Nice to meet you.”

  “You too.”

  Charlotte headed back to the house, where it seemed everyone had gathered on the great covered porch. Mina the maid, the two sheriffs, and both twins stood talking. She leaned against Frank’s cruiser, close enough to overhear.

  “But I don’t understand why you’re here,” she heard Payne say as she approached. The other twin, Gemma, stood quietly with her hands folded in front of her, seemingly uninterested in the proceedings.

  “You don’t think it’s a coincidence that Mr. Miller died the same night a litter of puppies went missing?” asked Carter.

  “It is weird,” mumbled Gemma, glaring at Mina.

  Mina seemed flustered and looked away.

  “He was just old.” Payne smacked her sister’s arm. “All this fuss is your fault for mentioning the puppies.”

  Gemma flinched. “Ow. Cut it out.”

  Payne threw her head back and stared at the porch’s ceiling. “Can we go now? It’s hot.”

  Sheriff Carter nodded. Mina looked at him with the same apologetic expression Lyndsey had offered Charlotte. Clearly, apologizing for Payne’s bad behavior was a common occurrence aroun
d the Miller household.

  Payne turned on her heel and stalked into the house and Gemma trailed after her.

  “She’s upset about Kimber’s death,” mumbled Mina.

  Charlotte’s ears perked. Kimber. Strange for the maid to call Miller by his first name.

  Carter handed Mina a card. “If you have any questions give me a call.”

  Mina nodded and took the card. Instantly. Without hesitation.

  Charlotte scowled.

  Mina turned for the door and left them on the porch.

  “Whaddya think?” asked Carter as he and Frank walked to where Charlotte had stationed herself by the car.

  “No sign of a struggle. Guess the old man fell, unless the coroner tells us otherwise. Maybe he heard someone stealing the dogs and got flustered. It’s weird Mina never mentioned the dogs were missing, though. It took Gemma asking about them for us to realize they were gone.”

  “Did you ask her why she left that part out?” asked Frank.

  Carter shrugged. “She said she just didn’t notice. She was too upset, there was too much going on…the usual.”

  Frank looked at Charlotte. “Who was that you were talking to in the horse ring?”

  “Her name’s Lyndsey. She works with the horses, but she’s been here since she was young. Said Miller took her in as a girl.”

  “Adopted her? Like the nieces?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “She didn’t say adopted. Called herself a worker bee accepted into the hive.”

  Carter grunted. “So you don’t think she’d be up for anything in the will? Lots of money in play here.”

  Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know. But—”

  Frank cocked an eyebrow. “What? You’ve got that look on your face like you’re on to something.”

  Charlotte fished the earring from her pocket.

  “One of the dogs had this in its stool.”

  Frank had been about to take the earring from her and he retracted his hand.

  Charlotte huffed. “It’s okay. I washed it.”

  Carter held out a palm and she dropped it into it.

  “An earring?”

  “A matching earring. Lyndsey was only wearing one just now. One that looks just like this.”

  “You don’t say. So she’s been around the puppies recently.”

  “Seems like it. She also thanked me for finding the puppies, but never asked me where I found them or if we caught who stole them.”

  Carter looked at the house. “Mina did. The girls didn’t. Aren’t little girls supposed to love puppies?”

  Charlotte considered this. “The girls might be too old for puppies now. They might be all about boys and their phones at this point. Payne seems to be in a classic teenage petulant funk.”

  “Other one’s quiet,” observed Frank.

  “Lyndsey said that’s how they are. Said Payne lives up to her name.”

  Frank chuckled. “Probably all teenagers should be named Payne.”

  Carter returned his hat to his head. “Well, we’ll see what the coroner thinks of everything. Thanks for bringing the puppies around, Frank, and nice to meet you, Charlotte. Keep up the good work.”

  He shook Charlotte’s hand, pairing the shake with a grin-wink combo she could only describe as cheesy. She couldn’t tell if he was flirting, condescending, or just one of those guys who thought women found winking charming. Carter didn’t seem like a bad guy, but he was definitely pretty impressed with himself.

  Carter headed toward the barn. “Think I’ll go talk to that horse lady before I go.”

  Charlotte glanced at Carter’s hand. No wedding ring.

  Heads up, Lyndsey. She wondered if the horse trainer liked a man in uniform.

  Charlotte and Frank returned to his cruiser and headed back to Pineapple Port.

  “So what do you think?” asked Frank as they strolled down the long drive.

  Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know. Somebody took the dogs, that much we know. I didn’t see the crime scene. Anything there?”

  Frank shook his head. “No. The body was already gone, of course, but from what I understand it looks like he might have tried to get out of bed and fallen, clipped his head on the nightstand there. Lot of blood though.”

  “Head wounds.”

  “Mm hm. They bleed.”

  “Maybe he did hear someone taking the dogs.”

  Frank shrugged. “Maybe. I’m not sure that makes it a murder, though.”

  Charlotte’s phone rang and she glanced at the caller I.D. to see it was the vet’s office.

  “Hello?”

  “Charlotte? This is Dr. Powers.”

  “Hi, how are you?”

  “Good. You asked us to let you know if a Yorkie came in. We have him.”

  Charlotte sat up in her seat. “You do?”

  “Yep. He’s in my palm as we speak.”

  “Awesome. I’ll be right there.”

  She hung up to find Frank looking at her.

  “Sixth puppy?”

  She nodded. “Sixth puppy.”

  Chapter Ten

  Mariska climbed three low steps and knocked on the rattling screen door of their first house. She and Darla had talked about the puppies during the rest of their time at the pool—during the few minutes they weren’t talking with the other ladies about the fight for Dirty Dirk—and they’d decided to knock on doors on the way back home to see if they could help Charlotte find the missing pup.

  The first house was a dud. No one answered.

  “Off to a roaring start,” said Darla, who stood at the bottom of the step, supervising.

  Mariska put her ear to the screen and listened. “I don’t hear a dog.” She took one step back down the stairs before hearing the pop of the inner door opening. She stopped and resumed her place on the landing.

  “We don’t donate,” said the woman now standing in the doorway. It was hard to read her features through the thick screen, but Mariska didn’t think she looked terribly friendly.

  “We’re not looking for donations. We’re looking—”

  “We don’t want any.” The woman took a step back as if preparing to shut the door.

  “Wait, we’re not selling anything. We’re just looking for—”

  “Why are you naked?”

  Mariska scowled. “What?”

  “Why are you naked on my doorstep?”

  Mariska looked down. She wore a sheer cover-up over a bathing suit a nun could wear on vacation.

  “I’m not naked. We’re heading home from the pool—”

  “We don’t use the pool. Full of germs.”

  “Actually, they use a lot of chlorine. Anyway, we just need to ask—”

  “We have our own religion, we don’t need—”

  Mariska felt her cool slip away.

  “Lady, did you find a friggin’ puppy?”

  The woman’s eyes popped wide. Below her, Mariska heard Darla hoot with laughter.

  “What?” asked the woman, her confrontational manner replaced by what sounded like genuine confusion.

  “Did you find a puppy? Little black and brown thing with hair that looks like someone plugged its tail into the wall socket?”

  “Did I, what?”

  “Did someone leave a puppy on your doorstep?”

  The woman straightened and shook her head. “No. Why would someone give us a puppy? You’re a crazy person.”

  The woman closed the door. Inside Mariska could hear her calling to her husband.

  “Nothing. Some crazy naked lady looking for a lost dog.”

  Mariska turned to glare down at Darla. They’d only knocked on one door and she was exhausted.

  Darla chuckled. “Seems nice.”

  Mariska tottered down the steps. She caught movement from the corner of her eye and looked up to see an old man peering at her though the curtains.

  Darla shook her index finger at him and the curtains closed.

  “He didn’t want to miss the naked lady, the old di
rtbag.”

  The two of them climbed back into Mariska’s golf cart and took the two-second drive to the next house.

  Mariska grunted as she climbed out again.

  “This might not be the task for us.”

  “This is Tilly’s house. She always has good cookies.”

  Mariska’s mood lightened. “Ooh, I love those anise ones with the sprinkles.”

  “I like the ones half-dipped in chocolate,” mused Darla. “Though I don’t know why they don’t dip the whole thing in chocolate.”

  “To give you a place to hold them without getting your fingers all messy.”

  “I could use a smaller handhold. As it is, the one end tastes so much better than the other.”

  “What you need is to find someone who likes the end without the chocolate and split them.”

  Darla rolled her eyes. “That’s like finding someone who doesn’t like the stuffing part of an Oreo.”

  “A unicorn.”

  By the time they reached the door, Tilly was already standing behind her screen.

  “What are you two up to?”

  Mariska’s gaze shifted behind Tilly, straining to see if she had any plates of cookies on display. “Charlotte asked us to go around the neighborhood to try and find a missing dog.”

  “I haven’t seen any. You want me to check my cameras?”

  Tilly had moved with her family from New York City to Florida as a girl, shifted there by the Witness Protection Agency, after her father turned on the mob who’d hired him as an accountant. The uprooting had instilled in her an obsession with safety and, decades later, she still kept a log of suspicious comings and goings in the neighborhood. There were rumors she’d installed cameras all over Pineapple Port. Mariska knew nobody got away with anything with Tilly around.

  “You really do have cameras?”

  Tilly bounced one shoulder. “Eh. Charlotte knows all about them. I figured you did. Wanna see if I can dig anything up?”

  “That would be wonderful,” said Mariska.

  “You’re so much nicer than your neighbors,” added Darla, glancing back at the previous house.