Death By Design

by Abigail Keam

  Matt was standing beside me. “You shouldn’t go alone.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve got to get away from Nurse Ratched for a few hours.”

  “What about the baby?”

  “Franklin can watch her. He’s practically lactating anyway. She’ll be in good hands.” He gave me a pleading look. “Please! I want to do something normal without a bunch of women hovering over me.”

  “Does that include me?” accused Franklin, lounging in the doorway.

  “YES!” shot back Matt. “I just want an hour or two pretending that I’m like I used to be–whole.”

  “I understand,” pouted Franklin. “I’ll keep the baby while you gallivant around town with Josiah.”

  “Thanks, buddy.”

  Franklin smirked. “Josiah, see how low I’ve sunk on the totem pole. I was a boyfriend, then a close confidant, then a casual friend, and now I’m the babysitter. If it gets any worse, I’ll be the dog walker.”

  “Franklin, I wouldn’t trust my baby girl with just anyone. Only special people.”

  “Ooh, listen to that. Special people. Special people who get to change poopy diapers and clean milk spit-up. I’m so thrilled.”

  Matt started to retort, but Franklin cut him off by waving his hand in a flimsy manner. “Go on. I’ll watch the princess. Bring me back some chocolate ice cream, the expensive kind.”

  Matt gave Franklin a loving smile. “You’re the best.”

  If Franklin noticed the intimacy of Matt’s expression, he kept it to himself. “I keep telling you that. Two hours is all you get, buddy.”

  “Received and noted,” replied Matt. He turned to me, “Shall we go?”

  “Take the Bentley. I’ll have one of the boys drive you,” yelled June, meaning the grandsons. “Malcolm’s been begging me to let him drive the Bentley. This is his lucky day.”

  Malcolm burst through the door that led to the kitchen. “You gonna let me drive the Bentley?” Obviously, he had picked up June’s bad habit of eavesdropping.

  “Yes, and bring it back in good condition. It’s going to be yours one day. Treat her like the lady she is.”

  Malcolm grinned, “Yes, ma’am!”

  “Skedaddle, now,” urged Franklin. “I expect you back within two hours.”

  One of the farmhands had carved a gentleman’s cane out of a tobacco stick for Matt, so he gathered his and I gathered my silver wolf’s head cane. We both teetered on our walking sticks, as we followed Malcom out to the garage.

  Matt rode shotgun while I got into the back. Within a half hour we were sitting in front of Bunny’s apartment in Hanover Court, a very old section of Lexington.

  We sent Malcolm in to fetch Miss Bunny. A few minutes later, he came back, but without Bunny Witt of the Philadelphia Witts.

  “Where is she?” Matt asked.

  Malcolm looked worried. “No one answered the door. I knocked real loud. A neighbor poked her head out and said she hadn’t heard Miss Bunny go out today.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” I remarked.

  “We’d better go up again. Rennie, you stay here,” cautioned Matt.

  “Sounds fine to me,” I replied. I didn’t really want to see if something gruesome had happened to Bunny.

  Matt followed Malcolm into the yellow brick pre-WWII building, which had six stunning apartments. It would take Matt a little time to climb the stairs to the third floor where Bunny lived.

  I got out of the Bentley and leaned against the car while perusing the neighborhood for anything out of kilter. Several walkers stopped and admired the car, asking questions about it. I could tell they were just curious about the beautiful machine and posed no threat to me, but that didn’t keep me from having my hand in my coat pocket wrapped tightly around my Taser.

  Who’s paranoid? Not me! I thought I told you that.

  When Matt and Malcolm didn’t return or yell out the window, I became concerned. Pulling out my cell phone, I began to dial Matt’s number when I heard the scream of an ambulance getting louder and louder. It raced into Hanover Court and screeched to a halt in front of the Bentley.

  An upstairs window opened and Malcolm stuck his head out. “Up here. Hurry!”

  Since Malcolm had left the keys in the Bentley, I quickly moved it so the ambulance could get closer to the apartment building. After parking down the street, I got out and waited while people emerged from their beautiful nineteenth-century homes and clogged the street gawking.

  Soon a police car arrived, and who should stumble out? Detective Goetz!

  Hadn’t he retired yet?

  I hadn’t spoken to Goetz for a long time, and I didn’t want to speak to him now. I ducked behind a massive oak tree, peeking around occasionally.

  What the hell was going on? What had happened? Where was Bunny? Did Matt have a relapse?

  Whatever was happening, it seemed that Malcolm was taking charge. I saw him talking to Goetz as the grizzled cop took notes.

  I smiled. There was that ratty notebook and nubby pencil Goetz always carried.

  Maybe I should say hello.

  No. That wouldn’t be prudent.

  What would I say?

  Thank you for killing O’nan and saving my life, but I’m sorry–I don’t want to go to bed with you.

  I had told Goetz earlier that year that I didn’t want to see him anymore.

  After I said it, he didn’t say anything. He just gave me a strange look and walked away. I hadn’t seen him since.

  I was grateful to Goetz, but I wish he hadn’t told me he had killed O’nan. I was worried that he would regret telling me and do something about it, afraid that I might squeal. So now I had someone else to worry about.

  Or maybe I was too guilty over Matt getting shot by O’nan to seek my own happiness. If Goetz had taken aim sooner, Matt would never have been hurt. Maybe I blamed Goetz for that.

  I feel bad about Matt’s injuries. Real bad.

  And truth be told, I’m slowly dying. There, I said it. You can’t live without kidneys. But I was not going to snooze in my coffin yet. I needed to help Matt get back to his old life. I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet and felt I still had a lot of living left to do. I wasn’t going to give up so easily. What’s that Dylan Thomas poem about rage, rage against the dying of the light? That’s me.

  I hung around the fringes of a little knot of spectators so I could get closer to the action. At long last, two paramedics carried out a gurney with Bunny on it mewing like a newborn kitten. Next followed Matt offering encouragement.

  Looking around, Matt spied me and beckoned.

  Goetz followed Matt’s look until he found me too.

  I had to acknowledge Goetz now.

  Wriggling my way through the crowd, I finally came face-to-face with Matt, who was in deep conversation with Goetz.

  I heard Goetz tell him, “Matt, that case is still open. We don’t know who shot O’nan. Why?”

  Matt replied, “Because I want to send that son-of-a-gun a case of Pappy Van Winkle bourbon. He saved both Josiah and me that day at Cumberland Falls.”

  “He wasn’t fast enough to save you from a bullet.”

  “I’m positive that once O’nan drowned Josiah, he would have come back on the rocks and finished me off with a shot between the eyes.”

  “I think he would have had to. You were a witness.”

  Seeing me for the first time in months, Goetz asked, “Josiah, who do you think killed O’nan?”

  I stared right at him when I said, “I don’t know, and I don’t care. I’m just thankful that someone put that rabid dog down.”

  Goetz grunted.

  “Goetz, it was great to see you. I’ve given all the information I can about Bunny Witt. Can I go back up to her apartment?” asked Matt.

  Goetz glumly shook his head. “Naw. It’s a crime scene. I’ll have one of my tech boys go over it since Mrs. Witt was attacked. Then I want a look-see myself. Let me know if you think of anything else,”
he replied, walking away without even casting an eye in my direction.

  He acted as though I didn’t exist.

  I don’t know why, but it bothered me.

  7

  “This is so wonderful of you to take me in, June. Thank goodness the doctors said nothing was wrong with me,” gushed Bunny, as she sank into a plush leather couch in Lady Elsmere’s library. Light from the fireplace flickered on the glossy, oiled walnut panels that held thousands of books. Many were expensive first editions and priceless books printed in Europe soon after the invention of the Gutenberg Press.

  I never thought a hot fire in a library was proper conservation of rare books, but it wasn’t my money.

  Sitting in a leather chair opposite June and Bunny, I gazed through the French doors to watch the sun setting across the well-manicured fields that made up June’s estate. Farmhands were leading the mares into the barns for the night, their foals following contentedly beside them.

  The mention of my name brought my attention back to Bunny’s prattle.

  “Jo, take your tea,” commanded June.

  A tea cup was thrust into my hands. I followed the arm holding the tea cup and caught a worried look from Charles.

  “Oh, sorry, Charles. Thank you,” I replied as I took the tea cup.

  Knowing which tea cakes and biscuits I liked, Charles filled a plate and set it on the stand next to me.

  I spied the laden plate with glee. Yummy!

  June asked, “Jo, are you listening?”

  I could tell she was put out. “My apologies again. I was just watching the horses being brought in for the night. It’s so lovely this time of day. I think the old-timers call it the gloaming.”

  June glanced out the French doors. “Yes, it’s lovely. Bunny, you’re going to have to start over. Pay attention, Josiah.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, stuffing a bite-size chocolate-raspberry tea cake in my mouth. “Go ahead, Bunny. I’m all ears.”

  Bunny gave me a cautious glance, as if she didn’t really believe me, but started droning her story over again.

  Aw, geez.

  “Well, I arrived home yesterday, and everything seemed fine. This morning I went to get groceries, and when I got back, I noticed some of my things had been disturbed.”

  “Like what?” I mumbled with my mouth full.

  “I noticed that the pillows on my couch had been moved. They were out of order.”

  “Okay. Then what?” I asked.

  “I must have cried out. Then I heard someone behind me, and as I was turning, I got hit on the head. I don’t remember anything until I came to in the apartment with two men standing over me calling for an ambulance.”

  “You left some things out, Bunny,” I said.

  “Did I?”

  “You made at least two telephone calls before you were hit. You made one to my house, and then to Lady Elsmere’s house where we talked.”

  Bunny looked fearful. “I don’t remember. I truly don’t.”

  June interceded, “Josiah, it’s common for people not to remember details after an accident.”

  “I know that, but it’s important that Bunny try to remember as much as possible. Let’s go over everything again.”

  “If you think it would help.”

  “Well, Bunny, it’s not me that’s getting conked on the head. If you’d rather not, that’s fine by me. I’ve got other things to do.”

  Bunny grabbed my arm, which was holding a cup, causing me to spilled a spot of tea on the carpet.

  June’s mouth tightened, but hey, it wasn’t my fault.

  “Let’s start when I last saw you in New York.”

  “All right.”

  “Did you tell anyone where you were going?”

  “No.”

  “Did you tell your girlfriend?”

  “No.”

  “Not even your assistant?”

  “I did exactly as you told me, Josiah.”

  “You got on the plane.”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you see anyone on the plane that you knew or that you noticed?”

  Bunny thought for a moment. “No. I didn’t see anyone who caused alarm.”

  “Which flight did you take?”

  “The direct night flight from New York.”

  “The 8:15?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you get to your apartment?”

  “I took a cab.”

  “Did you notice anyone following you?”

  “No, but I wasn’t looking, either.”

  “What happened when you got to your apartment?”

  “It was a late flight. I went straight to bed.”

  “Did you notice anything out of whack?”

  “Nothing. Things were how I had left them.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “The next morning I went to the store, and when I got back, I noticed the pillows on the couch were out of order. I notice things like that.”

  “You called me at home, and then you called here.”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Did you call anyone else?”

  “No.”

  “How did you make the call?”

  “On my new cell phone. The new one you told me to get.”

  “Would you get your phone for me, please?”

  “You want to look at my phone?”

  “Yes, Bunny, I do. Right now.”

  “Very well. It’s in my room.” Bunny reluctantly got up to fetch her phone.

  Once she left the library, I peeked into the hall to make sure she was out of earshot. “She’s lying,” I told June. “Bunny keeps changing the details of her story.”

  “What makes you say that, Josiah?”

  “She said on her phone call to me here that she went to check on her dresses first, and met with the director. That means she came in on an earlier flight and not the direct flight from New York, which leaves at 9:40 and not the 8:15. That flight gets in at midnight. Why would Bunny lie about her flight time?”

  Saying nothing, June took a sip of tea. I could tell she was thinking over what I said.

  “Since you were eavesdropping, I’m sure you heard her say that. Bunny is not the only one fibbing. Liam is not in Ireland seeing his family. What happened? Did you two have a fight and you kicked him out?”

  Putting down her cup, June said, “My tea needs a little shot of bourbon. Join me?”

  “Why the hell not?” I rose to get the bourbon decanter that was sitting in a book cubby. (Such decanters were strategically located throughout the mansion.) I poured a little into June’s cup.

  “Oh, honey,” she purred, “just dump the damn bottle in the pot.”

  “Okey dokey,” I replied, more than happy to oblige and defy my doctor once again.

  We sat happily sipping our “tea” waiting for Bunny to come down with her phone. She took a very long time. By the time she entered the library again, I can’t say I was soused, but I sure was in Happy Land.

  “Here it is,” she said, handing me the phone.

  “How many numbers and messages did you erase? I know what you were doing. It doesn’t take that long to tinkle and gather your phone.”

  “What?” she blurted, startled.

  “Write down all the numbers you erased.”

  Bunny whined, “June!”

  June shrugged her shoulders. “There’s no use lying to Josiah, my dear. She’s like a hound. The truth will out. It’s too bad that nosy nose of hers never worked with her husband, Brannon.”

  “Don’t bring him up,” I cautioned. “I’m doing you both a favor, so don’t tick me off.” I rose from my chair.

  June held up her cup and saluted me. “Where are you going?”

  “You don’t need to know. I’ll be in touch.”

  “You’re taking my phone?” cried Bunny.

  “Just use the landline here,” I suggested before I swept out of the room. I headed down the massive hallway and into the kitchen, where I found
Charles feeding a half-starved, mangy mutt.

  Charles looked up. “Found him on the farm. Looks like he was dumped.”

  “Maybe he has a chip.”

  “Taking him to the vet tomorrow to see. Right now, he needs a bath and warm place to bed down.” Charles pointed to some dark spots on the dog’s reddish fur. “Looks like bite marks to me.”

  I leaned over to see. “Yep. Maybe he was used in dog fighting.”

  Charles seemed furious. He hated to see animals mistreated. “I’ll know better when I take him to the vet.”

  Bess walked in with a basket of freshly-picked spring greens. “Daddy, get that nasty dog out of my clean kitchen. We have lots of barns where you can take him. I don’t know why you’d bring that filthy animal here.”

  Charles hurriedly picked up the animal and scurried out of the kitchen with me following. I got into my golf cart. “Charles, hop in. I’ll take you to a safe haven.”

  “Take me to Barn Three. It’s got hot water. I can give him a nice, soothing bath there.”

  I looked down at the dog clinging to Charles as though he were a life jacket. “Charles, are you going to continue raising racehorses after June passes?”

  “I don’t know, Josiah. I’d kind of like to take some of the pastures and at least one of the barns to make a home for distressed animals. That’s my real passion, but I love the racing game too. I guess I haven’t made up my mind yet. Just mulling it over.”

  I looked at the dog’s pleading eyes staring up at Charles. “I’m sure you’ll make the right decision, whatever you decide, Charles.”

  I stopped in front of Barn Three. “You know, Charles, if you want to bring rescue animals here now, June wouldn’t mind. She wants you to start making your own decisions on what to do with the property.”

  “She’s very frail. I don’t want to do anything that might upset her.”

  “I don’t think a couple of rescue goats and llamas grazing next to her racehorses is going to throw June into a tizzy.”

  Charles got out with the trembling dog. “I’ll study on it.”

  “Where’s Liam, Charles?”

  “Can’t say. That information needs to come from Her Ladyship.”

  “But you know?”

  “Can’t say that either.”

  “What happens in the Big House stays in the Big House?”