Murder

by Maddie Cochere

  I rapped on the door, expecting to hear the dogs, but there was no barking. I noticed a doorbell situated higher than usual on the doorframe. I pressed the button, heard it echo within, and waited. There was no answer. Jean must have gone out. Maybe she took her sick child to the doctor or the dogs to the vet.

  I walked around to the back of the house. I didn’t want to leave without trying the back door. Maybe she was in the basement doing laundry or on the telephone. I had come to realize many of these older homes still had a landline in the kitchen.

  The back yard was well kept with a swing set and a section of land already spaded for an upcoming garden. There were two large doghouses at the back of the property but no dogs.

  I stepped onto the porch and rapped on the door. I turned to scan the large yard once more and saw both Rottweilers running full-speed toward me. I froze with fear. If I tried to run from the porch to my truck, they would easily overtake me, and they were close enough now that I could see the murderous look in their eyes. These were not friendly dogs.

  “Boris! Brewster! Halt!” a sharp voice called out.

  The dogs stopped in their tracks. Both stood growling with teeth bared. I turned to see a frazzled Jean behind me. She balanced a red-faced child with a full head of ringlet-style curls on her hip. Her other arm was extended toward the dogs with her palm out.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I didn’t know what-”

  “Get off my property,” she demanded. “The minute I put my arm down, these dogs are going to have you for lunch, and I’ll be using your remains for fertilizer for my garden.”

  I was taken aback by her words. “Ok, I’m leaving. I’m Jo Ravens with Baranski and Ravens Investigations. Give me a call when you’re ready to talk.” I set my business card on the porch rail. I was embarrassed to realize it was damp. My palms and every other pore in my body had broken into a sweat when the dogs came tearing toward me.

  I stepped off the porch. The dogs growled louder, their lips quivering as they showed their teeth. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

  “Wait,” Jean said. “Go inside. Hurry up.”

  I didn’t waste any time getting through the door. Jean put her arm down and said one word to the dogs. “House.” Both took off at a gallop toward the doghouses.

  Jean wasn’t happy with me when she came inside. “Why didn’t you call before coming? What if my husband was home and you showed up? And didn’t you get any of the information I left for you? These are vicious dogs. They’re trained to kill.”

  She sighed and motioned for me to follow her to the front of the house and into an old-fashioned parlor. She placed her daughter on a blanket on the floor. The girl hadn’t moved or made a sound since I arrived.

  “Is she going to be ok?” I asked.

  “She’s teething and running a fever. Her medicine makes her sleepy, and she’ll sleep through anything. I was trying to nap with her when you knocked on the door and rang the bell. I was hoping you’d go away, but when I heard the knock on the back door, I knew someone was going to be lunch for the dogs if I didn’t get up.”

  My voice was sharp when I said, “You have a lawsuit waiting to happen with those dogs. How can you let them run loose like that? Shouldn’t they be chained out there?”

  “Those dogs are big babies and would love you to death as long as you never set foot on the porch. My husband has enemies, and the dogs are for protection. Other than Harvey or me, the only other person who would ever step on that porch would be an intruder – most likely one who would never be missed if they ended up in the garden.”

  I was beginning to feel uneasy as I asked, “What does Harvey do for a living?”

  “Most people think he’s an insurance adjuster, but he’s an FBI Special Agent.”

  Her comments and Harvey’s line of work were unsettling. I didn’t want to get involved in something better suited as a box office hit at the movie theater than happening in real life in Buxley.

  “You think he’s cheating on you?” I asked. She nodded. I pulled my notebook and a pen out of my bag. “Tell me the number one reason you suspect him.”

  “There isn’t any one reason. I just know. That’s why I hired you. I want you to get the proof.”

  I went right for the clichés. “Lipstick on his collar? Perfume on his clothes? Late-night meetings?” My mind drifted. “Does he talk about another woman he works with? Does he laugh when he tells stories about her? Is she prettier than you?”

  I caught myself and shut up.

  Jean looked disgusted. “No. None of those things. I’m telling you, I just know. Go find out why I feel this way.”

  “I can’t very well worm my way into an FBI office and start asking questions. Do you have any idea where I should start?”

  She stood, walked to the front door, and opened it for me to leave. “No,” she said.

  “Is there any reason for me to talk with your new employee at Faye’s? Does she know your husband?”

  Jean looked directly into my eyes and said, “No. Jasmine has her sights set on a police officer.”

  I left the house feeling dejected, knowing I hadn’t done a very good job. Jean’s parting shot was downright mean, but I probably shouldn’t have asked the question about her co-worker in the first place. I definitely wasn’t going to share any of the details of our meeting with Arnie. I didn’t need him thinking I wasn’t ready to come back to work yet.

  I climbed in my truck and called it a day. I headed back to Pepper’s. I wasn’t waiting until tomorrow to throw Clay out. I was staying in my own house tonight.

  ~ ~ ~

  Nothing eventful or exciting happened over the next two days.

  Every time Nancy saw me, she broke into a grin. It was obvious she was ready to burst with our secret. I finally told her to knock it off. I was already regretting my impulsive request to have a double wedding. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to get married when they did, but I was wishing I had waited until the issue with Barbie had been resolved before asking her. For all I knew, I would be in jail in June and miss the wedding altogether.

  I met with Kay Walker about her disappearing items in Mama’s flea market. She said no one else appeared to be missing anything, so she knew someone was targeting her. Mama gave me one of her many spare keys, so I could go into the building tonight and watch Kay’s space.

  And I discovered Harvey Young worked out of a nondescript office building in Patterson. I’d made the twenty-minute drive to the FBI office twice in the past two days and planned to go back again this morning. There was nothing to report to Jean yet. Harvey had shown up for work, left at noon to have lunch with two male colleagues, and had gone directly home after work. He wasn’t exhibiting the behavior of a cheating husband.

  I poured coffee in a to-go cup, grabbed my bag, and walked outside. Across the cul-de-sac, Buck was standing next to his pickup truck. He glanced at his watch and yelled toward his front door, “Hurry up! I want to be on the road in half an hour.”

  Keith ran out of the house with a book bag slung over his shoulder. Kelly lugged a suitcase behind him. Buck tossed the bags in the truck bed while the kids climbed into the back seat. They didn’t see me until they backed out of the drive. Buck honked the horn, all three of them waved, and they were off on their adventure. Sunday dinner at Mama’s next weekend was going to be a hoot when they were home with stories to tell of their travels, or travails, whichever the case may be.

  I looked back over to their house and saw Pepper standing in the driveway. She walked toward me. I met her in the middle of the street.

  “How are you doing?” she asked sincerely.

  “I’m ok. It feels good to be back in my house.”

  “That’s not what I meant. How are you doing without Glenn? I’m sorry I wasn’t more supportive. None of this would have happened if I would have listened to you.”

  “What are you talking about? Nothing that happened was your fault. Glenn and Barbie are an item now, and no matter
what you think, there was nothing I could do to stop it. And you know I’m fine on my own. I’m not losing any sleep with Glenn out of my life.”

  The lies rolled off my tongue with ease. I always was a good liar. Mama said when I was little, I used to lie for no reason at all. I think I was trying to make life more interesting.

  “I’m working at Chummy’s tonight,” Pepper said. “I get off at midnight. It’s Dee’s turn to drive, so she’s giving me a ride in, but why don’t you pick me up after my shift? We can stop and grab snacks and you can stay at my place tonight.” She quickly added, “In a bed – not in the basement. It’ll be like old times. We can talk all night.”

  The last thing I wanted to do was crash at Pepper’s and talk all night, but I sensed it was important to her to know things were back to normal between us, so I agreed to the sleepover. I could always slip out during the night and walk home. I attempted a genuine smile and told her I’d pick her up at midnight.

  The sky was overcast this morning. By the time I pulled into the parking lot of a professional building across the street from Harvey’s office, a light drizzle was falling. It was going to be a dreary day.

  I grabbed a pair of binoculars from my glove box and set them on the seat beside me. I knew the model and color of the car Harvey drove, and I knew what he looked like, but I liked having a close-up view to avoid any instance of mistaken identity – especially when it came to infidelity.

  Harvey pulled in at nine o’clock on the dot. I checked to be sure it was him, made the notation in my notebook, and settled back in my seat with a new crossword puzzle book. I had graduated from the easy variety to medium puzzles, but I was ready to go back to the easy ones. What in the world were the five letters for a violinist’s stroke? And four letters for chicanery? I didn’t know any of the words in the entire upper-right quadrant of the puzzle. I was going to have to look at the answer key – again.

  I glanced up and saw Harvey come out the front door and jog to his car. He hopped in and quickly left the parking lot. I scrambled to start my truck and take off after him. He was definitely in a hurry.

  The morning rush of traffic had died down, and I was able to keep him in sight with only one car between us. I did worry that as an FBI agent, he would be alert for tails and spot me, but I only had to follow him a few miles before he turned off onto the airport road. I slowed and dropped farther behind. If he was leaving town, there wasn’t any reason to stay close to him and risk being caught.

  I pulled into the lot for short-term parking and took my time making my way into the terminal. Harvey didn’t know me, so it wouldn’t be a problem if he happened to look my way.

  After taking a quick walk through the areas open to non-flying passengers, and not finding him, I sat on a bench near the main entrance. I didn’t want to presume he had gone through security to take a flight, but I was mad at myself for not staying closer to him. If he was leaving town, he might have had a suitcase or travel bag with him.

  I pulled the morning newspaper out of my bag and pretended to read it. Ten minutes later, I folded it and shoved it back in my bag. Harvey hadn’t exited the men’s room, and he hadn’t come back through the airport. I pulled my notebook out of my bag and made a few notes. A man sat down beside me and made a quick turn to look out the window behind us. His shoulder knocked my arm, and my pen flew out of my hand.

  I gave him my best what-the-hell-buddy look and stood to pick up the pen. It had slid a good ten feet across the slick floor. Before my brain could fully comprehend what happened, the man and my bag were out the front door and running into the parking lot. Harvey was a blur as he raced past me to give chase.

  A stunning blonde in tight black pants, a low-cut black top, and a short black jacket stood gaping after Harvey.

  My brain caught up and began saying my favorite swear word repeatedly in my mind. I desperately wanted my bag back, but why did Harvey have to be the hero? I hated the thought of going back to Arnie and telling him that he was going to have to take over, because I blew the surveillance on this one.

  The blonde came over to stand beside me.

  “Did you see that?” she asked.

  Her voice was high-pitched and squeaky. My perception of her went from classy to bimbo just like that.

  “Not really,” I said with sarcasm. “I kind of had my back to him when he grabbed my bag and took off.”

  “Chuckie will get him for you,” she said.

  “Chuckie? Who’s Chuckie?”

  “My fiancé. He’s the one who ran after that guy. He’ll get him. Chuckie always gets his man.”

  I needed to get a better poker face. My eyes not only flew open, but my jaw dropped. She wasn’t looking my way, so I hoped she didn’t notice.

  “When are you getting married?” I asked.

  “Tomorrow. We’re eloping to Virginia. Chuckie has some work to finish up here first.”

  I wanted to ask her more questions, but she suddenly squealed and clapped her hands while doing little bunny hops beside me. I looked out toward the parking lot and saw Harvey shoving my thief ahead of him, while pinning the man’s hands behind his back. My bag hung from Harvey’s shoulder.

  A security officer met them at the door and whisked the thief away. Harvey walked over to Bunny and me and gave me my bag.

  “His getaway car was locked, and his keys were in his pocket. The extra fumbling was all the time I needed to catch up to him.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate your help.” I looked him in the eye, tried to do a mind meld with him, and said slowly, “You’re a good man.” I wanted him to feel guilty that he was a good man doing a bad thing with Bunny.

  He smiled a charming smile. The mind-meld apparently failed.

  Bunny grabbed his arm with both hands and said, “You’re so brave, but let’s go. They didn’t give us anything to eat on the plane, and I’m starving.”

  They moved toward the door. “Wait,” I said and began fumbling through my bag. I knew I had a loose twenty-dollar bill in the bottom. I was surprised to find some of the contents were damp.

  I looked up at Harvey with a questioning look on my face.

  “It wasn’t zipped all the way,” he said. “A few things fell out when I grabbed the guy. I think I managed to get everything back inside.”

  Some of the damp items were business cards. I looked up at Harvey again. The look on his face let me know he knew who I was. I grabbed the twenty and held it out to him. “I want to give you something for your trouble. I’m sorry I don’t have more cash on hand.”

  Harvey protested, but Bunny grabbed the bill and shoved it into her jacket pocket. “Thanks, doll,” she said and rushed Harvey out the door.

  They didn’t look back. I watched them walk toward the right side of the parking lot. My truck was several aisles over to the left. I bolted out the door and took off running. Whether Harvey knew I was there for him or not, I had no idea, but I was going to try to redeem myself and follow them. I needed a better report for Arnie.

  I hopped in my truck and started the engine. Nothing about Harvey and Bunny made sense to me. I needed more information. I needed pictures. I waited until they made the turn out of the lot, and I pulled out after them.

  Chapter Seven

  “Take a message,” I said to Nancy.

  Jean Young was on the telephone, and there was no way I was talking with her yet. Nancy sighed and walked back to her desk. I slumped lower in the chair in Arnie’s office. He had a look on his face.

  “What?” I asked defensively. “What am I supposed to say to her? Your husband is running with some tramp named Bunny and intends to marry her tomorrow, so I don’t think you’ll ever see him again. Would that be good?”

  “You don’t know the broad’s name. Give Jean the facts without making shit up and being so melodramatic. Let her draw her own conclusions.”

  “The house,” I said. “Did you check to see who it belongs to?”

  I was almost as crazy for Jean a
s I had been for myself when I thought Glenn was cheating on me. I had followed Harvey and Bunny back to Buxley to a beautiful house at the front edge of one of the new developments on the north side of town.

  I managed to get the address and a picture of the house, but nothing more. I didn’t have any shots of Harvey with the woman. They had exited the car and walked into the house while I was parking my truck at an apartment complex across the street.

  To make matters worse, I would occasionally look in my rearview mirror and watch people coming and going from the apartment building directly behind me. I thought it unusual for one building to have so much traffic on a weekday. I was shocked when I saw Barbie Cane and a man come out together, climb into a Porsche, and drive away. It was a weekday. Barbie should have been out patrolling with Glenn.

  I pulled my phone from my bag and hit his speed dial number. He answered on the first ring.

  “Hey, Sherlock. How’s it going?”

  My heart skipped a beat to hear the tenderness in his voice. I missed him desperately. I was ok as long as I kept busy, but when I heard his voice, it took everything I had not to beg him to let me come home.

  “It’s going great,” I said with a hint of sarcasm. “A dirtbag at the airport stole my bag this morning, and the man I’m surveilling chased him down and got it back for me. Now he knows who I am. I’m a pro at this private eye stuff.”

  He chuckled. “You are a pro, and don’t you forget it. Did you need something, or did you call because you missed me?”

  “Both. I just saw Barbie. Why isn’t she working with you today?”

  “She took a personal day. Said she was running over to Patterson to see her doctor for a yearly checkup. Female stuff.”

  “I’m at the Chestnut Ridge Apartments. I just saw her come out of one of the buildings with a man. Maybe mid-fifties or early sixties. Salt and pepper hair, business suit. Not much taller than her. They got into a Porsche and left.”