Gone with the Whisker

by Laurie Cass

  He didn’t, of course.

  “That’s weird,” Luke said. He stopped where we’d taken the turn off the path and danced his flashlight around. “I don’t remember seeing this before.”

  Courtney’s flashlight joined Luke’s. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Because you’re not a deer hunter. Those leaves there? They’ve been turned up in the last few hours. You don’t think—”

  “Mrr!!” Eddie streaked into and through their fields of light, disappearing into the dark on the other side.

  Courtney jumped. “Geez, he scared me!”

  “Just a stupid cat,” Luke said. “Want me to shoot it?”

  My heart froze.

  “Nah.” Courtney turned away and started walking. “Let’s get going. If we want to watch that movie tonight, we need to get this done.”

  When they were around the bend, I tugged on Kate’s hand. “Time to go,” I whispered.

  “But what about Eddie?”

  “He’ll catch up.” At least I hoped he would. If he didn’t, I’d be out here at first light. “Don’t worry about him.”

  I trotted off, measuring in my head the time it would take Courtney and Luke to find the shed empty of Hamiltons. Five minutes? Maybe less. As soon as we left the trail and hit the two-track, I increased my speed and was soon running flat out, with Kate at my shoulder.

  Eddie galloped up behind us as we burst out of the narrow part of the road and onto the gravel proper.

  “Where did he come from?” Kate gasped.

  The better question was, where had he been, but I didn’t have the wind to say it out loud.

  “Hey!” Luke called. “Stop! Stop or I’ll shoot you in the back!”

  “Just do it, Luke,” Courtney shouted. “They’re getting away.”

  “They’re right behind us,” Kate cried. “How can that be?”

  I didn’t know. “Keep running,” I panted out. “Keep running until you get to the road. Someone will help you.”

  “Aunt Minnie—”

  “Run!” I yelled, and slid to a stop. Then I dropped into a crouch and turned to face Luke Cagan.

  Three sets of blindingly bright headlights flashed on all around me. “Police!” a megaphone boomed out. “Hold it right there! Put your hands up!”

  “Not you, Minnie,” Ash said, walking into the light cast by the sheriff’s vehicles. “Those two.”

  “Oh. Right.” I dropped my hands and watched as deputies hurried forward to handcuff Luke and Courtney. I looked around for Kate, and saw her being attended to by a female deputy.

  “Minnie!” Rafe ran out of the darkness. I bleated a bit as he hugged parts of me that hurt, but not very loudly. “You haven’t answered your texts for hours,” he said. “I knew something was wrong.”

  “So you called out the cavalry?” I nestled my face into his shoulder. “So romantic.”

  “I’ll show you romance.” He dropped to one knee and took my hands. “Minerva Joy Hamilton, I love you, you love me, and we belong together like . . . um, like . . .”

  “Peanut butter and jelly?” Ash suggested.

  The female deputy talking to Kate said, “Bogie and Bacall.”

  Another deputy laughed. “With Niswander, it’s more like Abbott and Costello.”

  I looked around. At the deputies, at Kate, at Ash, at the empty expressions of Courtney Drew and Luke Cagan. This was a night that would forever be shadowed by how close Kate and I had come to being killed.

  Putting on a smile, I tugged Rafe to his feet as Eddie, who had again appeared out of nowhere, bumped his head against my shin. “Don’t you dare propose to me like this. I want a marriage proposal we can tell our kids about. Besides, I’m a filthy mess. What I want more than anything else is a long, hot shower.”

  He pulled me tight. “You got it.”

  Two hours later, after all the questions were answered, all the papers signed, and all the necessary phone calls made, I fell into bed. And I never did get a shower that night.

  Chapter 22

  Aunt Frances added another piece of bacon to my plate. “But where did all those medications come from in the first place?”

  Rafe, Kate, and I had walked up the hill for an aunt-cooked breakfast, and I was almost hoarse from telling the story of what had happened the day before. It was now clear that I had to eat before answering any more questions, because if I didn’t, everything would get cold and that was no way to treat my aunt’s cooking.

  I ate a bite of bacon and took another gulp of coffee. Aunt Frances’s question was a good one. The array of prescription medications in the shed had rivaled a pharmacy’s, and it had taken Ash, Hal Inwood, and the sheriff herself a fair amount of time in the interview room with Those Two to get the full explanation. They’d been interviewed separately and Courtney had remained silent until Luke had started talking. And talking. And talking.

  I’d been long asleep by that time, but an hour earlier, Ash stopped by the houseboat to give me an update. He’d looked exhausted but satisfied, and what he’d told Kate and me had made the final pieces of the puzzle click into place.

  “Courtney is a home health aide,” I said, adding jam to a piece of buttered toast. “She’s been stealing pills, a little bit at a time, from her clients. Just one or two at a time. Small amounts so you’d think you dropped one, or accidentally took a double dose.”

  She encouraged that, too, Ash had said. If a client mentioned missing medication, Courtney would look all concerned and mention that the client had forgotten something just the other day, and had the doctor checked for signs of senility?

  Ash’s face had hardened. “Ms. Drew laughed,” he’d said. “Said old people are so easy to take advantage of. All you have to do is scare them a little and they’re putty in your hands.”

  “There’s more,” Kate said, glancing at me. I was busy getting the right ratio of maple syrup to pecan pancakes, so I nodded and she continued. “Courtney is apparently well known within her company for lending a hand with end-of-life care. A lot of people don’t want to do that, but she was always volunteering.”

  Otto sighed. “And pocketing all those medications instead of disposing of them properly.”

  “When did Luke Cagan come into it?” Aunt Frances asked.

  I swallowed a spoonful of raspberries. “They’ve known each other since they were kids, so it’s hard to say. The shed was on property owned by Luke’s uncle on his mom’s side, and the uncle is only there during deer hunting season.”

  Aunt Frances nudged the bacon in Kate’s direction. “So the uncle wouldn’t know a thing.”

  “Yep. The shed was originally a sugar shack, but no one in the family has made maple syrup for years.” I eyed the stack of sourdough toast and reached for another piece. “According to Courtney, Luke kept pushing her to steal more and more medications because he wanted to go on guided hunting trips all over the world.” I considered jam options. “Of course, Luke said Courtney was the one who was pushing him to get better prices because she wanted to buy a house on Lake Mitchell.”

  The sadness of the entire saga had weighed heavily on me when Ash had described it. However, coffee, good food, and even better company were combining to push back the darkness, and my spirits were on the upswing.

  “I’m still struggling with the why of it,” Otto said. “Not the drugs, that I understand. It’s the murders.”

  “That’s what was so confusing,” I said. “Nicole, from her back pain, had ended up with an addiction to opioids, and she’d found an Up North supply courtesy of Courtney and Luke. They often sold their pills out on Brown’s Road, right where the bookmobile stopped that day, not far from Rex’s house.”

  Otto nodded slowly. “And Rex saw an exchange?”

  “With Nicole, on the Fourth of July.” Not that Luke was confessing to the murder, but now tha
t his handgun was in evidence, there’d be a ballistics test. “That last day on the bookmobile, Nicole had stayed late on our stop because she’d wanted to connect with Courtney to get more pills. They set up a purchase on the Fourth of July. Rex had wanted to explore more of that road on his bike, and he went back on the Fourth. He saw Nicole with Courtney, and he stopped to talk.”

  “So sad,” Otto said.

  “But why didn’t Rex tell anyone?” Aunt Frances asked. “If I’d seen a drug deal, the first thing I’d do is call the police. Did he even tell his wife?”

  “No,” I said. “But Rex confronted them, right on the spot. And Courtney and Luke and Nicole spun some story that apparently Rex said he’d believed. And maybe he was going to tell the police the next day.”

  “What about Nicole?” Otto asked. “Why on earth did they kill her?”

  “Different reason altogether.” I ate a bite of marmalade-laden toast. “She had to be downstate for some family things after the Fourth of July and didn’t hear about Rex’s murder right away. When she did, she figured straight off that Courtney and Luke had killed him.”

  I put down my toast and spoke quietly. “Nicole was using Rex’s murder as a way to get free pills.”

  Aunt Frances reached over and squeezed my hand. “Addiction is a horrible thing, my dear. We can only hope that someday there will be a better way to cure it.”

  I nodded agreement and tried to focus on breakfast.

  It had been thanks to my own big mouth that day at Rupert and Ann Marie’s house, that Courtney had known I was curious about Rex Stuhler’s murder. Which explained why she and Luke wanted me out of the picture, and probably explained the air conditioner episode, but the timing didn’t work for my fall into the street, so maybe that had been an accident after all. And it had turned out that neither one of them had known of Violet or Julia’s existence, a fact for which I was extremely grateful.

  Ash had also followed up on the other information I’d passed along. What he’d seen that day on his phone was that Violet had a criminal history. It was a college shoplifting prank, done on a dare during sorority pledge week, but she attributed all the things that had gone wrong with her life to that single episode.

  “She plays the victim card like a champ,” Ash had said, shaking his head. “Not at all like Mason Hiller.”

  Turns out that Mason had intentionally shorted customers on their change on July 3 because he’d just got the news that he needed to purchase new gas tanks to stay in compliance with some new state regulations. He’d come to his senses the next day, had already paid the people back, and was trying to find a second job to afford the hideously expensive tanks.

  “So it’s all over?” Aunt Frances asked.

  “Mostly,” I said. “Hal Inwood and Ash are trying to track down the people who were buying from Luke and Courtney.” I had no idea what crime they might be charged with, but Ash had seemed determined to follow the trail wherever it might lead.

  Rafe held up the coffee carafe. I smiled at him gratefully, and stood to pick up my newly filled mug. “Aunt Frances,” I asked, “would you mind coming out on the porch with me a minute? I want you to see something.”

  My aunt gave cleaning-up directions to the men, grabbed her own coffee mug, and followed me outside, trailed by Kate, who’d opted for two generations of aunts instead of kitchen chores.

  “Can I sit?” Aunt Frances asked, a smile quirking up one side of her mouth.

  “Sure. This might take a few minutes.”

  The three of us settled down, Aunt Frances and Kate on the cushioned love seat facing the street, me on a rocking chair. It was late morning with a glorious blue sky above; birds were singing, the sun was shining, people were out and about. I breathed deep of the fresh air and thought grateful thoughts.

  Last night Kate and I had come far too close to death, and it would likely change both of us in ways we now couldn’t imagine. Upon my insistence, she’d called her parents before she’d gone to sleep and she’d tearfully told them the entire story. My brother had sighed and said something along the lines of, “I suppose all’s well that ends well.” Jennifer had cried, but not for very long, and she’d laughed when Kate had said she’d have the best ever “What I Did on My Summer Vacation” essay when school started.

  “Nice morning,” Aunt Frances said. “But what are we doing out here?”

  I used my tiptoes and started my chair rocking. “Waiting.”

  “For what?”

  Partly for an opportunity to fit Florida’s state motto of “In God We Trust” into the conversation. “Just waiting.” I nodded in the direction of her coffee. “All will be revealed before that gets cold.” At least I hoped so.

  She shrugged and raised her mug. “Hope this isn’t an odd aftereffect of yesterday’s trauma. That you can’t stay indoors for more than an—” She stopped talking and squinted across the street. At the boardinghouse. “Well, that’s interesting,” she murmured.

  The three of us watched a thirty-ish couple laden with backpacks hurry down the front steps, climb into a car topped with two stand-up paddle boards, and drive away.

  “Wasn’t that Amy and Zach?” Kate asked.

  “It certainly was.” I watched their taillights disappear. “A couple of weeks ago they were kiteboarding, but they’ve moved on. I hear they’re talking about renting a catamaran next weekend.”

  Another couple came down the stairs. In their mid-fifties, they went at a more sedate pace, but they, too, had their hands full. Though they had picnic baskets, not backpacks, the contents were undoubtedly similar.

  “Bert and Yvette,” I said, and waved. “Have a good day!” I called.

  They waved back as they placed their baskets into the bed of Bert’s pickup truck. Yvette smiled. “We’re taking that road you recommended, the one out past the state forest land. Think we can get lost this time?” she asked Bert, turning her face up for a kiss.

  “Get a room, you two!” Canary called as she walked out the front door. She was followed by Walter, who closed the door behind them.

  “Well, if it isn’t Minnie.” She beamed. “Walter and I are headed to that wonderful toy store. Your friend Mitchell ordered us a new jigsaw and we just got a call that it’s in.”

  “Better get going,” Walter said, “or someone might buy it out from under us.”

  Canary laughed, but let herself be pulled along, and the elderly couple headed off briskly in the direction of downtown.

  “Hmm.” Aunt Frances sipped her coffee, which was still steaming.

  “Exactly,” I said. “Despite the appearance of no matchmaking, there is a significant amount of pairing going on.”

  “How . . .” My aunt shook her head. And laughed. “You know what? I don’t care how. But you know what? It makes me happy.”

  And if my aunt was happy, I was, too.

  The three of us sat there for a few minutes, breathing in the morning air, feeling the easy peace of summer.

  “So what are you two doing today?” Aunt Frances asked. “After yesterday, I’d say nothing is in order. And if you want to include me in that, I’m ready and waiting.”

  Kate smiled. “I can do nothing until noon, but I’m scheduled to work at Older Than Dirt.”

  “You sure you want to go in?” I asked. “I can call Pam and explain.”

  “Aunt Minnie, I’m fine. What would I do all day anyway? And please don’t tell me pick raspberries.” But she said it with a smile.

  Soon, she went off, as did Rafe, who said he had things to pick up before working on the house, and though Graydon had texted that I could take the day off, I decided to stop by the library to check e-mail. Three days of unanswered e-mails and I’d spend half of Monday reading and answering. As it was, I’d spend a good share of Monday morning telling the Shed Story, and there were things I needed to get done.

 
I slipped in the side door and, looking left and right, scurried into my office, closing the door without anyone seeing me.

  Knock, knock.

  Then again, it was entirely possible I wasn’t as stealthy as I’d thought. I’d have to ask Eddie for lessons.

  My door opened and Graydon poked his head in. “Morning.” He glanced at his watch. “Yes, still morning, barely. Glad I caught you, I didn’t think you’d be in today.” He gestured at my office’s empty chair and, mentally waving good-bye to the productive hour I’d planned, I nodded for him to sit.

  “This won’t take long,” he said, getting comfortable. “Did you know the board had a special meeting this morning?”

  “Did not.” I felt my brow furrowing. They’d heard about yesterday’s escapade. Once again, I’d made a name for myself and not in a good way. Moral turpitude was included in my employment contract’s termination-for-cause section and they were going to fire me. What was I going to do? I hadn’t finished paying off my student loans, I needed to help Rafe pay for the house, and I didn’t want to sell my houseboat. Plus, I had the best job in the world and couldn’t imagine doing anything else, ever.

  Graydon crossed an ankle over his knee. “It was an emergency meeting. Trent called it yesterday morning.”

  I put my hand to my forehead and tried to smooth out my skin. Okay, not going to fire me. At least not for what had happened out on Brown’s Road. The library board’s bylaws allowed for emergency meetings, but they were only allowed under special circumstances. “What was it for?”

  My boss inspected the sole of his deck shoe. “The attorney advising the board on Stan Larabee’s bequest is in town this weekend, and she wanted to give the board her final recommendation.” Graydon smiled. “Which they voted to adopt, all in favor.”

  “You look pleased,” I said cautiously.

  “Every penny will go into the Stan Larabee Endowment. There’s enough capital to generate healthy annual dividends and the board, with oversight from Mr. Larabee’s attorney, will make decisions on how to use that money, with Mr. Larabee’s wishes regarding the bookmobile a guiding principle on disbursements.”