Buried to the Brim

by Jenn McKinlay

  “How do you do?” I asked as I took his hand in mine. His grip was warm, dry and firm. A perfect handshake.

  “I think the more pertinent question is, How are you, Ms. Parker?” he countered.

  “I’m fine,” I said. I realized my voice sounded somewhat blasé but it couldn’t be helped. Compared to some of the grisly things I’d seen over the past couple of years, Swendson’s unmarked body hadn’t really been that traumatizing. Still, I didn’t want to sound callous. “What I mean is, I’m better now, thanks.”

  He nodded as if he understood. “I’m sorry to have to put you through it again, but are you willing to answer some questions and tell me exactly what happened?”

  “Of course,” I said.

  “Let’s find a quieter place,” he suggested. He directed Harry and me through the door back into the corridor that led to the arena. There were a couple of rooms off the hallway that I hadn’t noticed before and Bronson led us into one of those.

  We found ourselves in a small office with a plaque on the door declaring it the office for the head of security. One of the uniformed officers stationed himself outside the door and Bronson let the door shut behind us. He gestured to the two available seats across from the desk.

  “Mr. Millbank, the head of security, has offered us the use of his office while he and his people are canvassing the crowd to ascertain whether anyone saw anything.”

  “How many people were in the crowd?” I asked.

  “Four hundred, give or take a few dozen,” he said.

  I felt my eyes go wide. With the spotlight on us, I hadn’t really gotten a good feel for the crowd in the stands. I was extremely grateful that I hadn’t known at the time how many people were watching the potential catastrophe. It made me want to find Freddy and give him a hug and a big juicy bone.

  “Can you tell me what happened as you remember it, Ms. Parker?” Bronson asked. He took his phone out of his pocket and asked, “Do you mind if I record our conversation?”

  “Not at all, and please call me Scarlett,” I said.

  He nodded in agreement and I waited until he had the recorder on his phone going. Then I told him exactly what happened from the moment Freddy ran back to the dais to the discovery of Swendson’s body.

  Bronson made a few notes on a small pad on the desk. When I was finished speaking, he steepled his fingers in front of him and then tapped his mouth with his index fingers. His blue gaze locked on my face as if he was trying to figure out how to take my words and hold them up to the light to look for cracks or flaws. Finally, when my nerves were getting stretched to the breaking point, he spoke.

  “Why were you competing in the show?” he asked.

  “Excuse me?” I said. I felt like it was pretty self-explanatory.

  “Liza Stanhope told me you weren’t the original entrant for this competition,” he said. “Why are you here?”

  There was no accusation in his words but I felt it regardless. Harry stiffened almost imperceptibly beside me and I knew he heard it, too.

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” I said. Yup, I was stalling. I wanted him to spell it out for me.

  “What don’t you understand?” he asked. His face hardened. “You were a last-minute entrant. Why?”

  “How is that relevant?” Harry asked. He sounded defensive, which was not going to help us.

  DI Bronson ignored him and kept his gaze on me. His look was stern. This was the face of a man who sifted through lies to find the truth. He wasn’t going to be fobbed off with half-truths or distractions. That being said, I was not about to offer up Aunt Betty on a platter to him.

  I let a coy smile turn up the corners of my mouth. Then I leaned against Harry in the chair next to me and took his hand in mine. I gazed up at him with all of the affection in my heart, there is a lot, and I said, “We should tell him.”

  Harry’s green gaze met mine. He kept his face clear, betraying nothing. You’ve got to love a man who errs on the side of caution.

  “Should we?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said. My voice was decisive. I turned back to the detective inspector. “The truth is, Harry and I are looking to get a dog of our own and Aunt Betty has been teaching me the ropes of the dog show circuit.”

  I felt Harry’s fingers tighten around mine in approval.

  “Is that so?” Bronson’s voice was dubious.

  “Yes,” I said. “There’s a litter that Freddy, Aunt Betty’s dog, sired and we have our eye on one of the pups.”

  It was a slight, very slight, exaggeration. I really did want a puppy, and I would take one of Freddy’s litter. I just didn’t mention that Viv had forbidden it and that the puppy was already taken by Aunt Betty. I also left out the part where I had really taken Aunt Betty’s spot because she’d been bounced by Liza Stanhope. I told myself that they were just details that would not play out well for Aunt Betty.

  “Is that the only reason?” Bronson asked. It was clear he knew about the hullabaloo from the cocktail party.

  “No,” Harry said. I looked at him in surprise. Was he going to tell all? “I also asked her to take my Aunt Betty’s place since Aunt B is getting up there in years and I thought it might be too much for her.”

  Bronson nodded. “Indeed? So it had nothing to do with Liza Stanhope banning your aunt from the competition?”

  “Ban her?” I asked. “That’s news to me. Given that Aunt Betty was here coaching me I don’t see how she could be considered banned. As I recall, Ms. Stanhope expressed a dislike of corgis, if you can believe that, and she made her preference clear to everyone at the registration table. Still, here I am.” I glanced at Harry. It occurred to me, we needed more than this, so I went there. “Also there was a note.”

  “A note?” Bronson asked.

  I glanced at Harry out of the corner of my eye. He nodded in agreement. Our best line of defense was sharing the information about the threatening note Aunt Betty had received.

  “Aunt Betty received a note that read, ‘If you persist in competing in the dog show, I will poison your dog.’ We turned it in to her local police but they had no idea what to make of it,” I said.

  “The officers I spoke to were Read and Colby at the Notting Hill Police Station,” Harry said.

  “Seems to me someone is out to harm Aunt Betty,” I said. “And she’s not the only one. Richard Freestone received a note, as well as some other competitors. Maybe these situations are related.”

  Bronson stared at me as if taking my point into account. He was quiet for a moment and then he nodded. When he rose to his feet, Harry and I did as well.

  “Thank you for your time, Ms. Pa—Scarlett,” he said. “If you could leave your name and phone number with the officer at the door, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Of course,” I said. I waited a beat and then asked, “We are free to go, then?”

  “Yes,” he said. He glanced at Harry. “But first I’ll want to talk to your aunt.”

  Chapter 9

  To his credit, Harry didn’t flicker so much as an eyelash. “Certainly.”

  Bronson left us with the officer in the hallway and disappeared into the room holding all of the contestants. Oh, man, what if he asked Aunt Betty about Swendson and she went off again?

  “What if—” I started to say as much to Harry, but he was already on his phone.

  I turned to the officer, who looked to be somewhere in his twenties and way out of his element, judging by the mildly panicked look in his eyes, and gave him my name and number. When I turned back, Harry was ending the call.

  “It’s fine,” he said. He pulled me close and whispered in my ear, “Alistair is here with Aunt Betty. I told him not to let her answer any questions and informed him of our deep desire to adopt a puppy.”

  “Smooth,” I said. With our backs to the officer, I felt confident enough to give him a discreet
knuckle bump.

  In a matter of minutes, Bronson returned. Viv and Alistair flanked Aunt Betty, and Freddy trotted by her side as if they were on their way for a walk in the park. Aunt Betty looked nervous but when she saw Harry, her expression cleared.

  “After you, Ms. Wentworth,” Bronson said, gesturing to the open office door. He went to follow her and Freddy, but Alistair slipped in between them. Bronson frowned and closed the door after them, making it clear that the rest of us were to wait here.

  “Is she going to be all right?” Viv asked.

  “She’s with Alistair,” Harry said. “She’ll be fine.”

  Viv nodded. I wondered what she was thinking. I also wondered what she’d said, if anything, when Alistair arrived. Knowing Viv, she had said nothing.

  I supposed that I needed to let it go. Just because I saw all that was good in Alistair didn’t mean she needed to date him. Honestly, he deserved better than a woman who was lukewarm about him at best and if that woman was Fee, well, good on her.

  Aware that the officer standing by the door was watching us, none of us spoke. Harry, being the restless sort, began to pace. He had to navigate his way around people who kept entering and leaving the corridor but he didn’t seem to care. Viv and I stepped out of the way and leaned up against the wall on the opposite side of the hall.

  The cement was cold against my back and I shivered. Viv pressed closer to my side as if to share body heat. I said nothing and neither did Viv. I shifted my weight from foot to foot as the time dragged on, and I began to feel the stirrings of unease.

  “They can’t honestly think that Aunt Betty harmed Swendson,” I said. “It’s preposterous.”

  “True, but they could theorize that she had someone do it for her,” Viv said. She cast a side-eye at me. “Someone younger and stronger.”

  “Me?” I asked. I was outraged. How could she even suggest—

  Viv snorted. “No, not you.” She tipped her head in Harry’s direction. “But a scrappy rugby player might fit the bill, don’t you think?”

  I felt my heart drop into my shoes. “No, they can’t possibly think Harry would have anything to do with it.”

  Viv shrugged.

  “It makes no sense,” I insisted. “Besides, there wasn’t a mark upon him—Swendson, I mean. If Harry had hurt him, he would have been banged up or bruised.”

  “Well, that means he was killed by other means, like poison or suffocation,” Viv said. “Anyone could have done that to him, including a petite, elderly woman.”

  “Oh, no,” I said. The ramifications of Aunt Betty’s situation were slowly sinking in.

  “Exactly,” Viv agreed.

  My mind raced. We needed to know what had killed Gerry Swendson and when, so that we could make certain Aunt Betty had an alibi that stuck. It occurred to me that Bronson wasn’t likely to make any details, like cause of death, public for precisely this reason.

  Harry paced by me. He turned on his heel at the end of the hallway and came back the same way. His expression was grim and I knew he was worried.

  “Hey,” I said. I grabbed his hand and held him in place. “It’s going to be all right.”

  “Maybe,” he said.

  “She has Alistair,” Viv said. “He’ll look out for her.”

  I gave her a look, and she tipped up her chin.

  “Just because I don’t want to date him doesn’t mean I don’t think he’s a good attorney,” she said. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask why she didn’t want to date him but now was not the time.

  “He is that,” I agreed. I squeezed Harry’s fingers with mine. “Aunt Betty is your father’s sister, right?”

  “Yes,” Harry said. “His little sister. She never married or had kids of her own, so she always made time for her nieces and nephews. She’s like a second mom to us all.”

  “Why didn’t she marry?” Viv asked.

  I was surprised, as Viv is not one to ask anyone personal questions. We both turned to Harry.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “She never found anyone she fancied enough, I expect. I know there was one tragic love affair in her twenties that held her enthralled for years but then it ended and I don’t think she ever dated again.”

  “Ever?” Viv asked.

  “I imagine it becomes a habit,” I said. “Keep rejecting offers and eventually it’s just second nature to say no even when it’s someone you might actually like.”

  Viv let out an exasperated breath and turned away.

  I leaned into Harry. “Was I too obvious?”

  “Subtlety is not your gift, Ginger.” He gave me a small smile. “I’m dreading telling the family about this.”

  “Maybe you should wait and see how it goes,” I said. “Perhaps Gerry Swendson died of natural causes.”

  “And stuffed himself under the award dais?” he asked.

  “He might have had a stroke and thought he just needed some shut-eye. Maybe he got confused and crawled in there for a nap,” I said. It sounded as flimsy as cardboard even to me. Both Viv and Harry gave me a pitying glance that I tried not to take personally.

  The office door opened and Alistair stepped out, holding it wide for Aunt Betty and Freddy. I glanced past them to get a look at DI Bronson’s face. His eyes looked grim and his mouth was set in a hard line. Whatever had happened in there, he hadn’t gotten what he wanted.

  I shot Alistair a grateful look but he was busy staring at Viv, who, per usual, ignored him. He ripped his gaze away and turned to Harry.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  Harry nodded. He stepped up to Aunt Betty and asked, “Are you ready, Aunt B?”

  “Yes, please,” she said. She reached out with an age-spotted hand that trembled and handed him Freddy’s leash. She was definitely rattled. Viv, Alistair and I fell in behind them. We decided not to go back through the contestants’ room but rather to exit out a side door at the end of the hall.

  We were almost there when I heard my name called and felt a tug on my arm. I turned and there was Andre, still holding his camera but looking much better than he had when we’d discovered Swendson.

  “Did you hear?” Andre asked.

  “Hear what?”

  “Liza Stanhope has decided to carry on with the dog show,” he said.

  “What?”

  “She just made the announcement,” he said.

  Our group staggered to a halt.

  I looked at Harry, who had clearly heard Andre’s news as his eyes were wide. We exchanged a look of understanding and I knew without him saying it that I was going to have to continue to compete because to withdraw now would make me, or more accurately Aunt Betty, look guilty, as if our only motive to be in the competition had been to murder Gerry Swendson. Damn it.

  * * *

  * * *

  When Viv and I got back to Mim’s Whims, it was to find Fee helping four customers at once. We jumped in to assist and as soon as the last lady had left with her newly boxed hat, we collapsed onto the navy blue upholstered chairs while Fee rushed to lock the door.

  “Not that I’m not thrilled with the business but it was nonstop today. Who’d have expected such a rush in February?” she asked. She slumped into her chair and put the back of her forearm on her forehead. “Never leave me again, yeah?”

  “Not until tomorrow, at any rate,” I said.

  “What?” she asked. She dropped her arm. “Explain.”

  I glanced at Viv and asked, “Where to begin?”

  “So many choices,” she said. “Aunt Betty getting banned? Finding the dog food king’s dead body? Being questioned by the police?”

  “Or being told the dog show is continuing and that I’ll have to continue taking Aunt Betty’s place?”

  “What?” Fee sat up. “Wait. I need tea. Anyone care for a cuppa?”

  “Me,” Vi
v said.

  “Me, too,” I said.

  “Let’s take this to the workroom,” Fee said. “I think I’m going to need a biscuit or four to listen to this tale of woe.”

  We rose as one and turned toward the workroom, which had a small kitchenette that we kept fully stocked for our late-afternoon tea. There was a knock on the shop door, and I glanced back to see Harry there. He had a key but it was just as easy for me to let him in.

  He had taken Aunt Betty home, saying he would meet me here to talk about the situation after he got her settled. I hurried across the room and turned the dead bolt, pushing the door open to let him in.

  “Hi,” I said. He had clearly stopped at home to change and was wearing jeans and a Fair Isle sweater in shades of blue under a thick black wool coat. As soon as he stepped inside, bringing a burst of cold air with him, I shut and locked the door and then turned around to hug him.

  The bite of cold clung to him but I brushed it off as I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my warmth against him. He held me close and kissed the top of my head. Then he took me by the upper arms and held me away from him. He looked into my eyes as if to assure himself that I was okay.

  “I’m fine,” I said. I hoped I removed all doubt. “How’s Aunt Betty?”

  “Worried,” he said. “She even talked about dropping out of the dog show.”

  “Really?” I asked. “But that might look suspicious, plus Freddy is at the top of the leaderboard.”

  Harry grinned. He threw an arm around me and said, “Look at you, getting all competitive. Don’t worry. Her friend and neighbor is with her and they’re going to talk it out over some cottage pie.”

  “Are you two joining us for tea?” Viv called from the workroom.

  “On our way,” I said. I had recently bought some decadent All Butter Viennese Swirl biscuits from Marks & Spencer, and I felt as if today was the day to bust them open. I shrugged off Harry’s arm, took his hand and half led, half dragged him into the back room.

  “What did Alistair have to say about the situation?” I asked. “Does he think they’ll come after Aunt Betty? Should you call your parents? What about Freddy? Should he be subjected to going back to that place? What if it damages his dog psyche?”