Bassets and Blackmail (A Dog Detective Series Novel Book 2)

by Sandra Baublitz

  I took over Shelbee's job of slicing strawberries while she cooked eggs as Jac and Patricia prepared toast and bacon.

  William stepped into the kitchen, running a shaking hand through his hair. “What can I do?”

  Patricia adjusted the temperature on the stove. “Go to the shed and bring in two of the folding tables. Set them up in here.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the police are using the dining room.”

  William saluted her and left.

  “Clarissa, make a fruit salad.” Patricia opened the fridge. “We have blueberries, melons, peaches, pears, and apples to add to the strawberries you’re cutting.”

  Shelbee placed a plate of eggs in front of me. “Here eat this first. Don't want you dying of starvation.”

  Patricia and Jac paused in their preparations.

  “Oops.” Shelbee grimaced. “Sorry. Wrong choice of words.”

  Patricia smiled weakly and closed the fridge door. She went back to frying bacon.

  Jac nudged Shelb's shoulder. “No worries.”

  I gulped down the eggs. They were delicious. I rinsed my plate and fork then placed them in the dishwasher before opening the fridge. Shelves upon shelves of a variety of foods filled the space. This was the largest refrigerator I had ever seen, designed specifically for a commercial kitchen.

  I grabbed several melons and closed the door then set them on the central island. Using a butcher knife, I cut a cantaloupe in half then cleaned out the seeds.

  Jac handed me a melon baller and a glass dish.

  As I scooped small, round balls of melon, I said, “Patricia, what do you know about Thomas Cafferty?”

  “Not much, I'm sorry to say. He reserved a room two days ago. When he arrived, he paid in cash. He never told us that he was bringing someone with him.”

  Jac removed toast from the multi-slice toaster. “I thought the rooms had been booked months in advance because of the murder mystery game.”

  “They had been.” Patricia lifted strips of bacon out of the pan and onto a serving dish. “Every guest here is a last-minute arrival since we had to cancel the original bookings when the roof leaked. The Daytons were the only ones who agreed to change dates. The others booked within the last two weeks. Cafferty booked a room but never mentioned he was bringing Jessica.”

  I finished the cantaloupe and cut open a honeydew. “What did you do?”

  “I told him he would have to pay for her room. He waved that away, saying they would share a room. I told him he would have to pay for her as well. He ordered - can you believe it – ordered me to get my husband for him to speak with. I told him that I ran this B&B and he would deal with me.”

  She shook her head. “He paid her share but insisted on the bridal suite. I relented and let him have it since the honeymoon couple from Arizona canceled at the last minute.” She grumbled, “Should have charged him more for the room.”

  Shelbee snorted. “He was a real jerk.”

  William carried in two tables and unfolded them, setting them up to one side of the room. “What's next?”

  Patricia walked over and wiped the tables with a damp cloth. She gestured to a closed door. “Tablecloths.”

  William opened the door, revealing shelves of linens and supplies.

  “William,” I asked as I scooped out honeydew, “what did you think of Cafferty?”

  I noticed William's shoulder muscles tense. “Cafferty? He was a rude jerk.” He glanced at me. “I probably shouldn't say that with his recent death, but he was.”

  Jac finished stacking toast and put her hands on her hips. “I wonder what he was doing near the basement so late at night?”

  I squinted at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Why go to the basement in the middle of the night? What’s down there? Or did someone lure him there?”

  “You mean to kill him?” Shelbee asked.

  Jac shrugged.

  I nodded. “According to Hal, Cafferty could have been hit on the head. He’ll know more after the autopsy.”

  “Who is Hal?” William glanced at Patricia as he picked out two tablecloths. “Have I missed something?”

  She shrugged. “If you did, so did I.”

  I set down the melon baller. “Hal is the county coroner. I've known him for ages.”

  Jac persisted. “So why was Cafferty in the hall by the basement in the middle of the night?”

  Shelbee turned off the stove. “For that matter why was Madeline Wells in the hall?”

  “And how long did Cafferty lie there before she found him?” Jac looked to me. “Did Hal know the time of death?”

  “He didn't mention it, but we didn't have long to talk.”

  William cleared his throat. “I don't know about Madeline, but my guess is Cafferty wanted to search the wine in the basement.”

  “Really?” Shelbee scraped the last eggs out of the pan and onto a plate. “He was disdainful of the wine you served at dinner.”

  “True,” William said. “But he was interested in the Chateau Haut Brion, and he knew that I returned it to the basement.”

  “He wasn't the only one interested in that wine,” Patricia pointed out as she and William draped the tablecloths over the tables. “Donna Dayton knew the value of it.”

  Jac said, “I'm surprised Mr. Dayton didn't know.”

  “Maybe he did,” I said, “but was too drunk to remark on it. What I wonder is who stole the wine from the basement and why leave it in the mulch?”

  Patricia shifted nervously while William shrugged. He said, “The mulch pile is a terrible place to hide wine. Too hot and humid. Whoever stole it, if it was stolen, doesn’t know wine.”

  “Or needed to hide it quickly,” Jac said.

  Patricia waved away our conversation. “Best get this food served. I wonder how long the police will be here?”

  I finished arranging the bowl of fruit salad. “Hard to say. Sounds like Harry is still interviewing.” I could hear a murmur of indistinguishable voices through the closed passthrough door.

  William grunted. Patricia observed his expression. “Didn't it go well?”

  I assumed she referred to his questioning.

  William shrugged. “Could've gone better.” He glanced at the rest of us then turned back to his wife. “We'll talk later.”

  Rats. I was hoping to learn what Harry and William had discussed.

  Jac picked up a plate of toast. “Who's going to inform the guests?”

  “I'll do it,” William answered as he strode to the door to the hall.

  Shelbee nudged me. “What about Harry and his officers?”

  “We'll take them coffee and pastries. That way the guests can eat in peace.”

  Jac sat a carafe of orange juice on one of the folding tables. “You two take food to the officers. I'll stay here and help Patricia serve the guests as they arrive.” She winked at us which meant she'd listen to the guests and gently question them.

  “Hmm,” Shelbee said. “Some of the officers and techs are gathering evidence around the mulch pile.” She gazed at me with a quirked eyebrow. “Why don’t we offer them some coffee? Maybe learn something?”

  I smiled broadly. “Good idea.”

  Shelbee grabbed a carafe of coffee and paper cups while I carried a tray of the same pastries Jac had offered the guests earlier. It felt like ages ago but was only a few hours.

  I motioned with my chin to the backyard. Shelbee nodded, but instead of crossing the hall to the private kitchen and its back door, she hung a right.

  “Harry won't want us to interrupt the basement crime scene,” I warned as I balanced the tray.

  “Not my plan.”

  “Then where are we going?”

  Shelbee maneuvered past the officers by the basement door, cut across the foyer, and to the living room. Karen Taylor passed us in the doorway with Officer Banks following her. In the living room, James Dayton sat hunched in the same position as earlier. Officer Heldman stood guard.

 
; Shelbee nodded ahead. “Through the French doors.”

  The French doors opened onto the side of the house, facing the parking lot. “Why this way? The private kitchen and back door are closer.”

  She rolled her eyes. “And the dogs would knock you over and eat those pastries in a minute.”

  My mouth formed an “O.”

  We stepped out onto the stone patio, closed the door firmly behind us, and turned the corner of the house. I gazed across the lawn to the three police officers who were combing the area around the mulch pile. All wore latex gloves.

  Shelbee led the way, waving to the officers as we approached. “Would you guys like some coffee?”

  Rob Barnes, one of Harry's deputies, waved back. “Sure would.”

  The other two officers peered over their shoulders at us. They both wore jackets emblazoned with “Dockers PD” on them. Harry must have the neighboring sheriff for support.

  Rob motioned to us. “They're okay. Clarissa,” he indicated me with a wave of his hand, “is the Chief's niece.”

  Both men nodded and stood to accept a cup of coffee from Shelbee. One took a pastry from my tray while the other declined. Rob grabbed a cruller and gulped the coffee Shelbee handed him.

  I smiled and handed him a napkin. “How's the investigation going?”

  The other two men lowered their brows, no doubt prepared to tell me that was confidential. Rob had no such concerns.

  “Early days yet,” he said. “We'll soon be finished here, and when they get done questioning, we'll clear out.”

  “Find anything more?” I motioned to the mulch.

  “Only what you found.”

  One of the officers cleared his throat. Rob glanced at him and shrugged. “She's solved murder cases before.”

  The officer raised an eyebrow then went back to sipping his coffee.

  Rob turned back to me. “But that's all I'm telling you. Chief doesn't want you involved, you know.”

  I sighed. “I know.”

  Before I could wheedle any more information out of Rob, Officer Heldman strode toward us.

  Shelbee, who had been conversing with the other Docker's officer, held up the coffee carafe. “Want some?”

  Heldman nodded and hurried over. Shelbee poured him a cup. He took a long drink then smacked his lips. “That's good coffee.”

  “Harry done with the interviews?” I asked as I held the tray out to him.

  Officer Heldman, Steven to his friends, replied, “almost” as he took a Danish. “Banks is finishing with the Taylor woman, and Harry is questioning James Dayton.”

  Rob finished his cruller. “I better gather up our equipment because the Chief will want to leave when he's finished.” He strode off toward the house.

  Both Docker's officers finished their evidence gathering and strode after him.

  I turned to Heldman and opened my mouth to speak, but he interrupted me. “I won't answer your questions.” He shook his head. “Rob talks too much.”

  I pursed my lips in frustration.

  Heldman nodded to the house. “He said he told you to go home. I advise you to get your dog and do it.” Then he strode back to the house.

  “Humph,” Shelbee said next to me. “He's no help.”

  I shrugged. “Not surprising.”

  As Heldman went to walk through the French doors, he paused. Jac stepped out and smiled at Heldman. He nodded then went inside.

  Jac strode over to us. “Any luck?”

  “No,” I said then paused to listen.

  “Woof.”

  I recognized that bark.

  Shelbee turned to face the back of the B&B. “They're restless. They can sense the tension emanating from the guests.”

  Henry joined Paw, wooing his displeasure. Answering barks came from Bitsy and Samuel.

  “Let's let them into the garden again.” I strolled to the back door.

  Shelbee and Jac followed me, Jac saying, “Most of the guests have left.”

  “What?” Shelbee stopped and stared at her. “The Chief wants them to stay in town.”

  “They didn't leave town, just the B&B. They didn't check out either. I don't know where James or Donna Dayton is. Neither came for breakfast.”

  I said, “Heldman said Harry was questioning James Dayton.”

  “Jessica grabbed toast and swore she was going to find somewhere else to stay,” Jac added.

  I turned the doorknob, and Samuel and Bitsy rushed out to Shelbee. Bitsy stood up against Shelbee's leg while Samuel pushed his nose against her side.

  Paw pushed through next, and I gave him a big hug. “Sorry, boy. I promise to spend more time with you.”

  “Woof.” He licked my cheek, coating me in doggie drool.

  Henry scooted past us, woo-wooing in delight at newfound freedom. I grabbed a towel, to wipe my face and the dogs' leashes.

  Jac was bent over talking to Henry when I got outside. “Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

  Henry's tail was wagging a mile-a-minute.

  I snapped on Paw's leash and handed Henry's to Jac. “Did anyone else leave?”

  Shelbee pulled leashes from her pocket and attached them to her dogs' collars.

  Jac stood up. “Yes. Karen Taylor made an egg sandwich and announced she “had to get out of this madhouse.” I watched her leave through the front door. Madeline Wells shrugged at her friend's dramatics, finished her breakfast, and climbed the stairs to her room. But Robert left to check on Pedro.”

  Pedro was Robert Roberts’ pet parrot. He was a talkative bird that had helped on a previous case.

  Samuel pulled at his leash, sniffing the grass. Shelbee let him take the lead. She looked at Jac. “Did you learn anything from the guests during breakfast?”

  “No. All Ms. Wells wanted to talk about was the murder mystery game. I think she thinks we're going to continue with it.”

  I stopped as Paw sniffed around a garden bench. Patricia had placed several throughout the garden for guests to rest. “Why would she want to continue the game? She was shaking this morning from the discovery of the body.”

  “I don't know why, but she sounded passionate about the game. She kept asking when it would begin. I think that's one of the reasons Robert left. He didn't even stop to find Kathleen.”

  Shelbee, pet-sitting professional that she was, asked, “Where is Kathleen?”

  Jac adjusted Henry’s leash. “Patricia put both cats in her apartment.”

  Shelbee's shoulders relaxed. “Good. They'll be happier there.” She paused a moment in thought. “Maybe we should go on with the game.”

  “Why?” I asked as I untangled Paw's leash. Somehow, he always managed to wrap it around objects. In this case, the bench.

  “If we continue with the game, it will keep the guests here as your uncle wants. Perhaps the killer will slip up and reveal his, or her, self. And we can use the game to question them.” She shook her head. “Of course, that could be dangerous if the killer figures out what we're doing.”

  “If Cafferty’s death was murder.” I reminded her, “Hal didn’t confirm it was murder.”

  “True,” Shelbee said, “but he didn’t deny it either. And someone moved the wine bottle to the mulch pile. It’s too coincidental that the wine went missing at the same time Cafferty died if you ask me.”

  I freed the leash from around the bench. “It's worth a try as long as we are careful. Robert will have to agree since he plays the key role in the game, but I think the actors from the theater who were going to take part should be kept out of it.”

  Henry rolled over, scratching his back in the grass. Jac rubbed his belly. “But we need one more person to fill out the roles.”

  Paw leaped to his feet and lunged, stretching the leash to its full extent. “Woof!”

  Samuel, Bitsy, and Henry all stood and barked as well.

  I dug in my heels to hold on to Paw and glanced in the direction he was looking, then grinned. “I found our replacement actor.”

  Chapter 7


  Shelbee and Jac turned to look in the direction I was staring. Shelbee rolled her eyes while Jac laughed, saying, “If you can get him to do it.”

  Bruce Severs strode toward us, his long legs crossing the distance with ease. He winked at me and patted Paw on his shoulder. “My two favorites.”

  “Hey,” Shelbee teased, “what about Jac and me?”

  “And the dogs,” Jac added pointing to our canine companions.

  Bruce crossed his arms and studied them. “Well...”

  Shelbee playfully slapped his arm and turned to Jac. “I get the impression we're not wanted. Let's go inside and let the lovebirds have a moment.”

  Jac giggled and followed Shelbee and the dogs into the house.

  I urged Paw to sit then hugged Bruce. “This is a surprise.”

  “We were to meet this morning. When I went to your house and didn't find you, I thought I'd try here. You are playing in the mystery game, right?” He turned to look back at the house. “You didn't tell me Harry was participating. Those police cars add a realistic touch.”

  I sighed, knowing Bruce would have a fit when he found out that I was involved in another murder investigation. “They aren't part of the play. One of the guests died.”

  He whipped his head back around to me. “How?”

  “Fell down the basement stairs.”

  Bruce groaned. “Don't tell me. You're involved in another murder.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “I resent your tone. Bruce, I can't help it if people die.”

  “But you can stay out of the investigation.”

  I glared at him. “Would you?”

  He grunted.

  “I could use your help.”

  Bruce just stared at me without answering.

  Paw stood and head-butted Bruce's leg.

  “You want me to help her, don't you boy?” He ruffled Paw's fur.

  “Woof!”

  “Yes. We have to take care of our best girl.”

  Paw wagged his tail.

  I stayed silent, biting back a retort that I could take care of myself. “Good. You can have a part in the mystery game.”

  Bruce raised one eyebrow. “Game?”

  “The murder mystery game that we planned. Shelbee, Jac, and I are going to suggest the game be played.” I raised a hand, palm out, when Bruce opened his mouth to speak. “I know it seems in poor taste with Cafferty's death, but one of the guests has been asking if the game will continue. The girls and I think that playing the game may reveal a killer.”