Home is Where the Bark Is

by Stella St. Claire

  Willow looked out at her yard that would hopefully one day be the dog gym she envisioned. Lee Hunter was certainly giving Griffin a motive for murdering him, but she still didn’t believe he killed him.

  Telescope jumped from Willow’s lap to Griffin’s and looked up at him.

  “Yes,” Griffin said to the dog. “There is more to tell. About the City Planning Committee Meeting.”

  Willow was grateful for her dog’s help. Maybe she should have had Telescope ask Griffin about his alibi the first time around.

  “We were both at this City Planning Commission Meeting, and everything seemed to come to a head. We were there because the city was planning on remediation for black mold in some of the township offices. Lee Hunter owned some of these buildings, and I know that he didn’t do his part to stop the problem in the first place. But he was there, lying about it all.”

  “That must have made you mad,” Willow said, imagining what the detectives would say.

  “I wanted to hit him.”

  Telescope let out a tiny growl.

  “And I did hit him. The night he was murdered,” Griffin said, sighing. “I really regret it now, but I was so mad that I punched him. A few times. If my DNA was found on him that must be why.”

  Willow shook her head. “You really do have the worst luck.”

  “I guess Lee’s was a little worse than mine,” Griffin said thoughtfully. “I don’t like being angry at a dead person, but I am still mad at Lee Hunter. He wouldn’t make repairs that were needed in his properties, and that can be dangerous. I spend my career doing the opposite of him – fixing things. Still, if I had it to do over, I wouldn’t have hit him.”

  “I think it looks bad that you didn’t tell the police this before,” said Willow.

  He held his hands up helplessly. “My reason for doing it was tied to my NDA.”

  Willow mulled over everything he had said. She believed he was telling the truth, but it still didn’t look good for him. Griffin had been doing repairs for Edna at the time of Lee’s death. The police must have thought that he killed Lee there because he had access to the property. Then, he continued working on Willow’s construction, so he could cover up his crime.

  However, she could understand Griffin’s anger at Lee. She also knew what it felt like to be stuck in a situation where you felt like you had no control. What he needed to do was take control. He needed to get involved in solving this case, or he was going to take the fall for it.

  “Thank you for telling me,” Willow said. “It’s good to know all the facts if we’re going to solve this thing. And notice, I said we.”

  “We?”

  “Yes,” Willow said, rising from her chair. “I’ll need your help. We need to find out everything we can about Lee’s business and keep looking into the women in his life. And we need to get on this fast. Because I spent some time in a jail cell today, and I don’t want you in there for twenty-five to life.”

  14

  Griffin stared at the items in his living room, trying to distract himself from the task at hand. It was better decorated than most bachelor pads, but that was because he had crafted many of the wooden furniture pieces himself and liked having them on display.

  He picked up his phone and set it down for the third time in a row. He was reminded of how nervous he had been in high school about calling up a girl. The reason for this call would be different, and probably even more awkward than his high school self trying to play it cool.

  Griffin sighed. He’d wanted to stay away from the murder investigation and let the police find Lee’s killer. That had backfired spectacularly. He was the prime suspect in the case! What was worse was that he couldn’t blame the police for considering him. Lee had definitely made him angry, and after punching the guy, his own DNA was making him look guilty.

  He picked up the phone and set it down once again. He didn’t want to be tied to this murder, but he wasn’t especially keen on investigating it himself either. He might have already lost a client by questioning Isla, but Willow insisted he had to. Maybe she was right.

  Griffin remembered Willow from high school. Even if she didn’t seem to remember him very well. She had made him laugh, and he’d thought she was smart and determined.

  What he hadn’t realized was how pushy she could be too. Griffin picked up his phone, and this time made the call. Willow was right. As much as he didn’t want to get involved, he didn’t want to be arrested for a murder he didn’t commit even more.

  Tiffany answered the phone with a confused “Hello?” Griffin realized that she didn’t recognize his number.

  “Hello, Tiffany Goodman? This is Griffin Maynard. I hope I’m not disturbing you. I know you had put in an estimate request for renovations on your home. If you’re still looking for a contractor, I’d be happy to provide that service.”

  “Finally, some good news,” Tiffany said. “I’d absolutely love that. I’d been asking around for a good contractor, and your name kept popping up. But I thought that you were all booked up.”

  “Well, I do have some time available,” Griffin said, keeping a cheerful tone in his voice.

  “When would a good time be for you to look over the space?” she asked.

  “I am free today,” Griffin began. “Or—”

  “Today would be perfect,” Tiffany said. “Come right on over. I’m so glad you’re not booked solid!”

  Griffin thanked her and told her he would be right over. He threw his jacket on and headed out to her house. Willow would be proud of him. He was feeling pretty proud of himself too. He successfully found an excuse to visit a suspect’s house. Even if it had been with Willow’s prompting and his reluctance, he had been invited inside.

  He might find a clue that would prove Tiffany was the killer. Or something that would point him towards another suspect.

  The one thing he really needed to do was finish what Willow started and find out more about Tiffany’s baby. If she was getting a nursery built, then it was pretty obvious that she was pregnant. However, how far along she was with her pregnancy might be important. It might explain the life insurance policy or provide a motive for Isla.

  Griffin arrived at the pretty Victorian house and felt a pang of regret that he wasn’t there to make an estimate for real. He would love to work on this gorgeous house.

  Tiffany greeted him at the door. He complimented her on the already stunning house, and she complimented him back, saying that she’d heard many good things about him when asking around about contractors.

  “I’m just so pleased that you’ve become available,” Tiffany said. “There’s a lot I’d like to do. If you like it now, just wait until it’s finished.”

  “That sounds like the type of thing I’m supposed to say as the contractor,” Griffin said with a grin.

  Tiffany ushered him inside. She raised an arm in a sweeping gesture of the space, then paused and let her arm fall back down to her side.

  “The downside is that Lee won’t be around to see the house all finished,” she said sadly.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Griffin said. “Lee was the owner of this house?”

  “He bought it for me. He certainly knew how to take care of me. And I intend to stay here. That way I can continue to be close to him.”

  “What a beautiful tribute,” Griffin said, trying to sound sincere.

  Tiffany put on a brave smile and began leading Griffin around the house. He smiled, taking note of the original hardwood floors. Then he looked around for things more relevant to the case.

  Looking at Tiffany’s abdomen, he couldn’t tell that she was pregnant. He wasn’t an expert on that sort of thing, but he thought it might take a while for her to begin showing.

  He expected her to begin with the room she expected to turn into a nursery, but instead, she brought him into the living room.

  Her cell phone rang, but she pressed ignore and focused on the room.

  “The fireplace in here is going to have to be replaced,
” Tiffany said, moving towards it and placing a hand on its bricks. “It’s not in working order right now, and I’m afraid that it will let a draft in during the winter.”

  Griffin explained the different options and how it would depend on whether she wanted to remove the fireplace or replace it with a functioning one. Even though he was answering her questions in contractor-mode, he was thinking about this renovation’s relevance. It could be possible that Tiffany was thinking of the baby’s health and safety when considering a potential draft.

  She seemed satisfied by his suggestions and said she was leaning toward having a working fireplace installed to create a nice and cozy heated room. Then, she led him into the dining room, which she wanted to expand. She also wanted new windows installed.

  It was already a large room, but if she was expanding her family by having a baby, then she might want extra space.

  “It’s always nice to have extra room in the dining area,” he said, hoping she would elaborate and mention the baby. “Especially if you’re planning on having others join you.”

  Tiffany nodded. “I’m hoping friends will visit me, so I don’t feel quite as alone without Lee.”

  He answered her questions about window frames for a few minutes and then steered the conversation back to Lee.

  “I’m surprised that Lee wasn’t handling these renovations himself,” Griffin said, trying to sound offhanded.

  “I was happy to take care of this,” Tiffany said.

  “It’s just that he knew so much about buildings, you know, because of his job,” Griffin said, trying to keep the conversation going.

  Tiffany continued to look at the current window frame as she let out a little laugh. “It’s partly because of that job that I was handling the renovation side of things here. He was very busy and successful. I should know. I was his assistant.”

  “Oh. I heard that you might have stopped being his assistant?”

  “Did you? Well, it was only temporary,” Tiffany said, turning to him and smiling. “We loved working together.”

  “But not around the house?”

  “Lee was amazing at so many things,” Tiffany said. “But he did have a tendency to let minor things go. He was so busy. Not only with work, but with his activities around town. He was so involved with the community. It was just easier if I did this, so our home would be perfect, and he could focus on his other commitments.”

  “Right,” Griffin said. He wasn’t sure how to keep the conversation going, so he followed her into the kitchen and listened to her renovation ideas.

  He decided that Lee couldn’t have been involved in any of her renovation preparation. If Lee was, he would never have agreed to let Tiffany contact Griffin about being her contractor. Was he not as invested in the house as she was? And did that have any bearing on his murder?

  Griffin followed her around several rooms. He tried to figure out a way to entice Tiffany to talk about her pregnancy without being blunt.

  “Many people like to record their children’s heights on these frames, so you might want to have a material that is flat and easy to write on.”

  Tiffany agreed and said she was happy to look at different materials. Then she added, “Lee would have made such a great dad.”

  Griffin waited eagerly for her to continue, but instead, she led him upstairs to look at the bedrooms. After they had looked at two of them without any mention of the nursery, Griffin was starting to get annoyed. Was she intentionally avoiding the subject of the baby? Did she somehow figure out that he was investigating the murder?

  Tiffany’s phone rang and again she ignored the call.

  When they reached the third bedroom on their tour, Griffin couldn’t contain it anymore. He had to ask outright. “And is one of these rooms going to be turned into a nursery for your impending bundle of joy?”

  Based on the confused expression on Tiffany’s face, he could tell he jumped the gun. He stood there awkwardly, putting his hands in and out of his pockets.

  “I’m not pregnant,” Tiffany said.

  Griffin was open-mouthed. He tried to push his brain into motion to figure a way out of the situation, but he felt helpless.

  “It’s all right,” Tiffany said, kindly cutting him a break. “It’s not your fault to jump to conclusions. I did question other contractors about a nursery. I wanted to try for a baby with Lee, but it didn’t work out.”

  “I’m sorry,” Griffin said.

  Tiffany sat down on the edge of the bed. At first, Griffin thought she was going to cry, but then she let out a laugh.

  “It’s ironic,” Tiffany said. “I wanted a baby with Lee, but I’d actually been withholding sex from him lately. I thought that was the only way to get a ring from him. I thought I was close too. I had thought that he bought a ring, but I guess he didn’t.”

  Griffin wasn’t sure if he should move closer to be supportive or if that would stop the flow of her confession. He decided to nod in an understanding manner.

  Tiffany continued. “I was so desperate for an engagement ring, but by trying to force Lee to give one to me, I wasted our finals days together. We could have kept things the way they were. Then, we could have had a few more days of happiness instead of fighting.”

  “Fighting?” Griffin asked, trying not to scare her off from talking.

  Tiffany let out an angry laugh and leaned back on the bed. “Oh, yes. The biggest fight we ever had. He actually fired me! But I wanted to stay. I hate that the last things I said to him were in anger. Why did he have to disappear that night after our fight? I wish I had stayed with him. I wish we had made up. Instead, I went out to drink my sorrows away and flirted with whoever came my way.”

  Tiffany sat up suddenly and covered her mouth. “I can’t believe I told you that.”

  “It’s okay,” Griffin said, moving closer. “It’s probably something that you needed to get off your chest. I completely understand.”

  “Do you?” Tiffany said, getting upset. “Because I don’t. I was loyal to the man I loved for years. We had a fight, and I got drunk at a bar on the night he was killed. And I know that I was flirting with some guy because I keep getting calls from someone I saved as Donald in my phone. I don’t remember him at all, but he just keeps calling.”

  Her cell phone rang again, and this time Griffin was close enough to see the caller ID say “Donald.” Tiffany ignored the call and started to cry. She wrapped herself up in a blanket from the bed.

  Griffin made his exit after learning the name of the bar that she went to and promising to get back to her with a finished estimate.

  He practically sprinted out of the house, but as soon as he was free, he took out his cell phone. He had so much to tell Willow, where was he going to start?

  “Hey, Willow. Do you feel like getting a drink?”

  15

  Willow arrived at the bar, trying to remember the last time that she had been out for drinks. It felt like an eternity ago. She would have to remedy that situation and see if Wednesday wanted to go out with her another time. The perk of going out with her sister is that Wednesday could help her with her outfit too. Willow was feeling a bit underdressed in her sweatshirt and jeans, but she’d been walking Telescope when Griffin called and hadn’t felt like changing.

  However, when she stepped inside the bar, Willow felt like her casual outfit fit in fine. She had never been to this bar before. She hadn’t been old enough to drink legally when she left home the first time, and since this bar was in the next town over, she had never ventured here on her visits home.

  It was large enough that no one would feel cramped in the space, but still felt cozy, as if you were at a friend’s house sharing a drink. Music was playing, and a few patrons milled about.

  Griffin waved at her as she entered, and she joined him at a table.

  “Would you like a beer? I ordered two in case.”

  Willow climbed onto her barstool and accepted the drink. “Is this a celebratory beer?”

  “
We’re actually going to do some investigating while we’re here,” Griffin said. “But first I need to catch you up on what I’ve learned from Tiffany.”

  “You did talk to her?” Willow asked. “I’ll drink to that.”

  Griffin smiled and tapped the tip of his bottle to hers. They each had a sip, and then he launched into his story. He told her that Tiffany wasn’t pregnant, that she wanted a ring, and that she had a big fight with Lee Hunter the night he died.

  “She’s really not pregnant?” Willow asked, stunned.

  “That’s what she said.”

  “That throws a wrench into the works.”

  “It still sounds like she might have had a motive,” said Griffin.

  “True,” Willow agreed, mulling it over. “Tiffany wanted a ring and a baby, and Lee Hunter wasn’t willing. He also fired her from her job, and they had a big fight about it. Maybe the fight escalated later that night, and she killed him.”

  “There’s also that life insurance policy,” Griffin reminded her. “But I think we’ll be able to find out whether she is our murderer or not very shortly.”

  “What do you mean?” Willow asked, looking around the bar.

  “This is the bar that Tiffany went to that night,” Griffin said, smiling as he took another sip of beer. “If she was as drunk and flirty as she thought she was, then the bartender should remember her. He’s on break right now, but he should be back soon.”

  “That is excellent detective work,” Willow said, impressed.

  “Thanks,” he replied. “But I’m not sure I’m made for this work long term. That consult was one of the most embarrassing things that I’ve been a part of.”

  “Why?” Willow teased. “Because you accused a woman of being pregnant when she wasn’t, listened to her confessions about being drunk, and watched her cry?”