by Krista Davis
Finch gazed at him in horror. “Are you okay?”
Camille placed her hand over his trembling one. “We’ll stand behind you, Jim. No matter what happened. We’re here for you.”
Finch nodded. “We’ve got your back.”
Dave appeared at the door and watched the group.
Rae Rae had stopped eating. “Is there something you’d like to tell us, Jim?”
He rubbed the icy glass across his forehead and took a long gulp of water. “Holly? Will you take care of Pippin?”
Camille’s eyes grew large with fear. “Jim,” she cried, “what’s going on?”
“I didn’t kill Howard. I swear I didn’t.” Jim looked over at Dave. “I don’t know how long I’ll be, Holly. He’s a great dog. Please take good care of him.” He stood up, gave Pippin a hug, and walked to the door with Dave.
Finch jumped up so fast that his chair turned over. “Wait! What’s going on?”
Dave looked back at us. “Jim’s coming in for questioning.”
As Dave escorted Jim out the sliding glass doors, Dave was carrying the bag Jim always had with him. That couldn’t be a good sign.
Pippin watched as if he knew he wasn’t supposed to go with Jim. I walked over to him and tried to reassure him. I stroked his fluffy head and whispered, “It’s okay. He’ll be back.”
Could Pippin tell I was lying? I wasn’t at all sure that Jim would be back.
Jim’s friends sat down at the table and gazed at one another.
Marlee finally spoke up. “I saw Jim at Howard’s house the night before they found him dead. Howard had berated me. He was awful, telling me I would never be an actor. That I was just another pretty face. That he’d met hundreds of girls just like me and couldn’t remember the name of a single one of them and that I would disappear into the mist of humanity just like the others.”
Rae Rae tilted her head. “I’m sorry, Marlee. Don’t believe a word he said. It’s a tough business, but you keep tryin’, sweetheart. Howard was an old fool.”
“Did you see Jim go into Howard’s house?” asked Camille.
“No. He stepped up out of the darkness like he’d been lingering outside, and he told Howard he was a vicious old has-been. Then he asked, ‘Where’s Lucy? What did you do with Lucy?’”
“Who’s Lucy?” asked Finch.
Rae Rae stuffed a miniature cupcake into her mouth and diverted her gaze. Did she know something about Lucy?
“I have no idea. Howard was stoned or drunk or something. He wouldn’t have known who his own mother was. Jim unlocked the door for him, and when Howard was inside, Jim and I walked over to Hair of the Dog. He was so nice to me. I was bawling. We had a drink and then came back to the inn.”
Finch frowned. “I’m no lawyer, but that’s hardly a reason to arrest him.”
“Maybe he was checking up on Marlee,” suggested Rae Rae.
“I don’t think so,” said Marlee. “I had been there awhile. It was the evening Howard invited Camille and me to come over to his house. When I got there, no one answered the door. I thought maybe he was on his way. Running late?”
Camille smiled at her sadly. “You are a true optimist.”
“He invited us! I thought he’d be there,” Marlee protested.
“Did you tell the cop all this?” asked Finch.
Marlee licked her lips nervously. “Yes, but there’s more.”
Finch rubbed his forehead.
“When I came back to the inn, you guys began playing poker. I hung around my room for a couple of hours, but I was still so upset. I left my room, and when I started down the stairs, I saw Jim leave through the front door . . . without Pippin.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.” Finch shrugged. “Each of us has gone out and about without the others. If he’s been taken to the police station for questioning because of that, then they’re just fishing and hoping he’ll say something that incriminates him.”
Camille spoke quietly. “You don’t suppose he actually murdered Howard? It is somewhat suspicious that he emerged from the darkness like he was lurking around waiting for an opportunity to accost Howard. And do you remember them in the bar the first night we were here? Jim was really angry with Howard.”
“That’s right,” mused Finch. “I forgot about that. Jim was insulted at the bar when Howard treated him like a lackey. What did Jim say? ‘I am not your personal servant.’ Something like that.”
Pippin whined. Everyone turned to look at him.
“He knows Jim is in trouble,” said Zelda.
I suspected it wouldn’t be difficult for a dog to pick up on the tension in the room. They all probably realized that something was up.
“I suggest that we stick together,” said Finch. “If we leave the inn with one another, we’ll have witnesses who knew where we were and what we did.”
“The buddy system!” Camille grinned. “I love that. Just like camp.”
Rae Rae smiled wryly. “Finch, sugar, I fear the time for that kind of precaution has passed. Unless, of course, you expect someone else to turn up dead.”
Twenty-six
“That was just plain wicked,” exclaimed Camille. Her eyes narrowed as she gazed at Rae Rae. “After all, if I’m not mistaken, you’re the only person in this entire town who knew both of the victims.”
Her sentence hung over us like a dark fog. It was true. As much as I liked Rae Rae, I had to admit that if I were Dave, I would be taking a hard look at her and her whereabouts when the murders took place.
In spite of Camille’s pointed accusation, Rae Rae remained calm. “An astute and most likely accurate statement. But I didn’t murder anyone. What I’d still like to know is who Lucy is. That might lead us somewhere.”
At that moment, I truly missed Holmes. It would be nice to have my old friend around to talk to. Holmes would undoubtedly tell me to concentrate on known facts.
Pippin’s entourage broke up at that point and went their separate ways.
Finch paused to ask, “Should I take Pippin?”
“Thanks. That’s nice of you. But he’s no trouble. He can hang with Trixie and me.”
I did notice that Camille stayed back waiting for Finch. They walked away together.
Zelda cleared the dishes while Mr. Huckle and I put away the tables.
“Mr. Huckle, did you ever hear anything about Diane having an admirer?” I asked.
“She was a most attractive woman. I’m sure she must have had many admirers in her life.”
“I meant here, in Wagtail.”
His mouth twitched with a hint of a grin. “You know I don’t gossip.”
“Someone murdered her, Mr. Huckle. It isn’t gossip anymore. Rumors could lead to her killer.”
“Well, when you put it that way . . . I did hear someone speculating that she may have been a very close friend of Mr. LaRue.”
I nearly dropped my end of the table. “Nooooo!”
“That was the scuttlebutt.”
“But she was so refined and he’s so”—I searched for a word that could describe him—“rustic.”
“He’s unusual but most intelligent. I must say that I quite enjoy his company. And he’s an excellent cook.”
“When are you in his company?”
“Not nearly so often as I should like. He’s very well-read. And knowledgeable about the stars and ancient people. All around a fascinating fellow.”
I still couldn’t imagine Diane being interested in him. But sometimes people were attracted to each other for reasons that weren’t immediately obvious. I wondered if Dave and Oma had known about Diane’s relationship with LaRue. Perhaps that was the reason they had seemed reluctant to say much about him.
Mr. Huckle and Zelda went home, and Oma went out to run a quick errand, leaving me to watch the inn. I felt a little like the Pied Pipe
r with four dogs following me around. They ran ahead of me to the main lobby, and I thought it was lucky that Pippin and Stella had been spending so much time with Trixie and Gingersnap. The two of them probably felt much more secure with their new pack. If they had been alone, this would have been a more difficult time for them.
I found Rae Rae sitting on the terrace by herself watching a sailboat glide by on the lake. The dogs surrounded her and brought a smile to her face. She leaned forward in her chair and stroked each of them.
“Could you use some company, or would you like to be alone?” I asked.
“By all means, please, join me.”
Rae Rae had changed for dinner. She wore a white dress adorned with chunky rhinestones along the neckline. “I was just sitting here thinking that Jim seems like such a fine young man. I never would have pegged him as a murderer. It’s sort of mind-boggling. One minute I’m having a grand time with him out on the lake, laughing and water-skiing, and all the while he might have been planning another murder, for all we know.” She looked over at me. “Do you know what they have on him? DNA evidence? Witnesses?”
“I don’t have any idea. But it does appear that he may have known Diane. He paid her a visit the day you arrived.”
Rae Rae stared at me. “I don’t know what to think. Of course, that alone doesn’t mean he killed her. How could he know her? Does this mean he killed both Diane and Howard?”
“Who knows? Dave must have something on him.”
“I should be thankful it was Jim who was taken in for questioning and not me. I thought for sure I would be the prime suspect.” Rae Rae studied her manicure. “You know, I’m going to miss having Jim around.” She stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to meet Donna.” She shook her head. “I’d have bet Marlee was the killer.”
I enjoyed the cool evening air for a bit before going to the private kitchen to rustle up some dinner. To my surprise, Oma was there, looking happier than she had in days.
“Holly, could you take this up to Mr. Mason’s cabin?” She pointed to a large insulated package.
“Sure. Is he ill?”
“Actually, I think he’s quite well. But he doesn’t cook much. And take all the dogs with you. I would like people to see that we are not afraid they will be stolen. Ja?”
“Who wants to go for a ride?” I asked enthusiastically.
All tails wagged and Gingersnap barked. I hoped no guests were around, because they romped through the hallway and out to the golf carts like they thought they were going to a dog park. I secured the package on a large golf cart, and they hopped in with panting smiley faces.
We drew a good bit of attention as I drove through the streets of Wagtail. Oma would be pleased about that. People waved at us, and a few dogs yipped greetings. We left Wagtail behind and began the slow ride up the mountain but away from the location of Pippin’s Treasure Hunt. People and houses became scarce. Most of the cabins were on sizable lots for privacy and the enjoyment of nature.
When I pulled up to Mr. Mason’s A-frame, flames blazed in a square outdoor firepit constructed of stone. Several rustic chairs surrounded it, but Mr. Mason wasn’t outside.
The dogs hopped out, and all of them, except for Pippin, made a beeline to the cabin door as though they thought they would be rewarded with treats.
The door opened and they shot inside.
I hoped they hadn’t knocked him over! Mr. Mason had to be in his eighties. I ran to the doorway and found Holmes on the floor with Gingersnap, Trixie, and Stella whining and vying for his attention. “Holmes? What are you doing here?”
He grinned as the dogs waggled and licked his face. “Hiding from Sugar McLaughlin.”
“I brought food for Mr. Mason . . .” As I gazed around, I realized that Mr. Mason’s furniture was gone.
Holmes scrambled to his feet and planted a big kiss on me. I tingled straight down to my toes. “I can’t believe you’re finally here!”
Still holding me in his arms, he said, “Mr. Mason moved into the town of Wagtail. He knew I was planning to come back here, so he wrote me and asked if I wanted to buy his cabin. What do you think?”
“I think it’s great! But you could let a girl know you were coming.”
He brushed back the sandy hair that waved in his face and chuckled.
Oh no. Oma and Holmes’s grandmother were best friends, and they had been trying their best to throw us together. “Our grandmothers set us up again.”
He laughed. “They set you up. I was expecting you.”
“Apparently, I brought dinner for us.”
“Is that Pippin?” he asked, releasing me to hold his hand out to Pippin.
“That’s the real Pippin. Not a knockoff or a look-alike. I’m, uh, taking care of him for the moment.”
Holmes carried the food outside to a table next to the firepit. He opened it and whistled. “There are even cocktails in here! And dinner for the dogs, in bowls and ready to be served.”
Over watermelon coolers, shrimp crostini, London broil, herbed Dijon potato salad, and cheesecake squares, I told him everything about the stolen dogs, the murders, and the guy who tried to take Trixie. The only thing I didn’t mention was Sugar McLaughlin’s criminal history. In the first place, I wanted to confirm it with Dave before I mentioned it to anyone else. In the second place, I didn’t want to be the woman who spread the details of Sugar’s less-than-stellar past. Holmes would probably find out about it sooner or later. It had nothing to do with the murders or the missing dogs. Unless . . . Sugar and Stan were stealing dogs to sell them. Could they be the dognapping ring? Could Stan be so heartless that he would sell his own mother’s beloved dog?
“Holly?”
“Hmm? Oh, sorry. I got distracted.”
“Let me see if I have this straight. Rae Rae was the only person who admitted to knowing both of the murder victims. And she had a motive, although it’s a very old grudge. Jim was seen arguing with Howard, was sneaking around outside his house the night Howard died, and paid Diane a visit on arriving in Wagtail, but you don’t know any reason he would kill Diane.”
“But Dave took him to Snowball for questioning. He must be on to something that I don’t know about.”
“And, of course,” said Holmes, “the two murders don’t have to be related. It could be that Jim killed Howard and someone local murdered Diane.”
“Holmes, what do you know about LaRue?”
Holmes perked up. “He’s the coolest guy ever. He never hangs around in town, but he’s very interesting to talk to. There are all kinds of rumors about him, but I think most of them are the result of imaginations running wild.”
“Like what?”
“That he’s wanted for some heinous crime and is hiding out from the authorities here. Or that he’s the leader of an online cult. There are people who think he’s in the Federal Witness Protection Program because he testified against some Mafia types.”
“What you’re saying is that no one knows.”
“Pretty much.”
“I suspect Dave and Oma know. They’re very closemouthed about him. Any chance he was seeing Diane?”
Holmes nearly spilled his drink. “If there’s one thing I have learned in this life, it’s that the oddest people are often attracted to each other.”
“I gather you never heard any rumors to that end?”
“Nope. Can’t say I did. I’m guessing from these questions that you don’t think this Jim murdered Diane?” Holmes asked.
“I don’t know. Why did he go to see her? Why was Stella with Diane when we found her? Did the attacker mean to steal Stella but she got away?” I paused and reflected. “Jim is very good to Pippin.”
Pippin raised his head and looked at me.
“You’re being a very good boy, Pippin. It’s not as though people who are kind to animals can’t murder a person. Bu
t as you say, maybe someone else killed Diane, and Jim was somehow outraged by Howard and lost it. It’s getting late. I’d better get back to the inn.”
“Holly? Would you do me a favor and not tell anyone where I’m living?”
“Sure.” That was odd. “Are you in the witness protection program?”
He laughed. “I need to be in the Sugar McLaughlin protection program. If she finds out this is where I’m living, she’ll be hanging out at my doorstep day and night. While I was in Chicago, she drove my parents nuts by sticking around their house.”
He was probably right. “If she sees you in town, she’ll follow you out here.”
Holmes chuckled. “Should we bet on how long it will be before she discovers where I live?”
I laughed aloud. “Okay. Loser buys dinner at the Blue Boar. And I bet she knows where you live in the next twenty-four hours.”
“Oh, come on. I’m smarter than that. You don’t think I can fool her for at least a week?”
“Why don’t you just tell her you’re not interested?” I asked.
“Hah! You think I haven’t done that? Sugar does not listen.”
“I heard she used to date Stan Hoover. Maybe we can get them back together again.”
“Or maybe she’ll be attracted to that new doctor, Engelknecht. A doctor is a million times better than an unemployed architect.”
“I won’t say a word about your new house, but I will enjoy that dinner at the Blue Boar.” I gave him a big smooch that was long enough for the dogs to start pawing us to get our attention.
“Come on, you guys. Let’s head back.”
The four dogs hopped on the golf cart. I waved at Holmes as I drove away.
It was past midnight, and we had the tiny mountain road all to ourselves. I could hear a great horned owl calling, “Hoo hoo hooooo.” It must have upset Stella, because she barked and leaped out of the moving golf cart!
I hit the brakes and yelled, “Stella!”
She stood at the side of the road, holding her head high, as if she were listening.
