Pineapple Pack II

by Amy Vansant

  Seamus motioned to Emmitt and called to the others. “Make him hold up his feet so she can count his toes.”

  “This is insane,” said Carolina.

  Declan assisted Emmitt as he held up one leg and then the other.

  Dinah gaped. “Then why is there a toe in our house?”

  “Come out of the bleedin’ bus and we’ll tell you.”

  Dinah jerked several times on the driver’s side window until it opened. She stuck out her head.

  “Are you okay Emmitt?”

  Emmitt nodded. “I’m fine.”

  “They didn’t try to kill you?”

  “No.”

  “It’s safe for me to come out?”

  “Yes.”

  Dinah pulled in her head and then thrust it through again.

  “Are you only saying that because they’re holding a gun to you where I can’t see?”

  Emmitt sighed. “No.”

  Dinah exited the bus a moment later, giving Seamus as wide a berth as possible.

  “You’ve wrecked The Reptile,” said Seamus, inspecting the back of the bus.

  Dinah positioned herself on the property line between the two houses, twenty feet from the others.

  “Let’s go inside and get everything cleared up,” said Charlotte.

  She turned and led the group back inside until only Seamus and Dinah remained outside.

  “After you,” said Seamus.

  Dinah scowled and stomped up the stairs.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Inside, they freed Emmitt and shared the story of Seamus’ break-in, Emmitt’s defense of the home and Chuck’s karate skills.

  “I knew you were a bunch of lunatics,” said Dinah, still appearing unsettled. “And none of that explains the toe. Julia just about fainted.”

  Charlotte stood to remove the top of the butter dish. Seeing the contents, Dinah yipped and covered her mouth.

  “You could have handled that better,” said Declan.

  “Sorry. I’ve gotten so used to it.” Charlotte put the lid back on the dish, the cut glass obscuring the contents once more.

  “Was that an ear?” asked Dinah from behind her palm.

  Everyone nodded.

  “We’ve been finding body parts since we arrived. We think the squirrels have been bringing them in. Maybe the cats.”

  Dinah gasped and dropped her hand to her chest. “My cats?”

  Charlotte nodded. “So you can understand when we suspected Mr. Marino had been killed, we also thought you had a body stashed somewhere.”

  Dinah’s gaze shot to Emmitt.

  “They know about Marino,” said Emmitt, answering the question before it could be asked.

  “It was a paperwork accident that worked in our favor. James bullied Emmitt into keeping the money,” said Dinah, her eyebrows tilting to show her concern.

  “Don’t worry. We’re not running to the police with your benefits scam,” said Seamus.

  “We’re not?” asked Carolina.

  Seamus fixed a pointed gaze on Emmitt. “You’ll make it right. Right?”

  Emmitt nodded, petting his swollen nose. The areas beneath his eyes had darkened like thunderclouds moving across his face.

  “We’re a little more concerned by the body parts than the benefits scam,” added Charlotte.

  Dinah nodded. “I could see that. Thank you.”

  “Well, the storm looks about done,” said Darla, who had moved to stare through the large sliders that led to the back porch. “I imagine we’ll be able to call in the police soon and let them take care of everything.”

  Charlotte grimaced. She hated that they’d been unable to solve the mystery.

  Emmitt stood and thrust a hand toward Seamus. “I’m going to head back to the house. You have my word we’ll fix the paperwork. I appreciate you giving me the chance to correct our moment of greed.”

  Seamus stood and shook. “I appreciate you not killing me.”

  Dinah shook her head, her jaw clenched. “Greedy, that’s what James was. Always greedy. I warned you.” She shook a finger at Emmitt.

  He nodded. “I know. You did. You warned me.”

  “I told you he used to hit on me when I first brought Momma there. He thought I had more money than I did. But I told him I wasn’t falling for his funny business.”

  Emmitt put a hand on Dinah’s shoulder and gently guided her toward the front door. “You know that isn’t possible.”

  “I’m telling you, he was after me. He was greedy.”

  “Okay. Okay.”

  Emmitt flashed an apologetic smile to the group and then winced when it made his nose move. With a final wave, he closed the door on Dinah’s continued protestations.

  “I guess it isn’t Mr. Marino,” said Charlotte after they’d left.

  “Are you sure you believe them?” asked Darla.

  Charlotte nodded. “You know, I really do.”

  “Though the cops will want to check with the funeral home, just in case,” said Seamus.

  Mariska picked up the butter dish and moved it to its place on the kitchen counter.

  “Who are you in there?” she asked it.

  “It’s a dead person, not a pet, Mariska,” said Carolina.

  “My money says that’s James in the dish,” said Chuck.

  Bob nodded. “We should place bets. I’ll take Marino. I think they’re lying.”

  They reached for their wallets and Carolina clucked her tongue, glancing sidelong at her sister.

  “Couple of degenerates we married.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Charlotte suspected the police would be able to reach them by the next day. The ocean had decided to go back to being ocean and stop pretending to be beach. Knowing her chance to identify the body and killer slipped farther away with each tide, she spent the remaining day scouring the yard and the beach. She posited that the body had to be out there somewhere, or the animals wouldn’t be able to use it as an all you can drag around buffet. If she could find more body or even evidence of digging...

  She found nothing.

  Seamus and the boys spent the bulk of their day extracting The Reptile from between the trees and doing their best to minimize the damage. From her bedroom window, Charlotte watched them try and buff a scraped bumper. Cranky and dejected by her failed search, she’d tried to take her mind off the case by packing her clothes. The group had unanimously decided to call the trip off, a week early. As soon as the beach was dry enough to drive on, they planned to hit the road.

  Not that they had a choice. All their handiwork would soon be wrapped in crime tape.

  Declan passed her open door on his way to his room and stopped.

  “Driving you crazy, isn’t it? That you don’t know who the body is or who killed him?” he said, propping himself against the door jamb.

  Charlotte turned and smiled. “Absolutely bonkers.”

  Darla sat in the bed, sipping her evening coffee and scrolling through her Facebook timeline. She sniggered.

  “You people are crazy. We spent this whole time worried about body bits when we should have been trying to enjoy ourselves.” She held up her phone for Charlotte to see. “This is what a vacation is supposed to look like.”

  Charlotte glanced at the screen. Brenda again, the background tropical.

  “Have you been able to reach her?” she asked.

  Darla shook her head. “No. She won’t even respond to emails about dead people in her house. She is off the grid.”

  In the photo that Darla held aloft, Phil sat behind Brenda, wearing his familiar smile.

  His very familiar smile. Phil only had one expression, and it was “not impressed.” He didn’t seem to be enjoying the vacation quite as much as his wife.

  “Phil always has that same look on his face—”

  Charlotte fell quiet as the sound of tiny footfalls scurried above them. All heads tilted back and they stared at the ceiling.

  “Did you hear that?” asked Declan. />
  “That didn’t sound good. It sounded like rats,” said Darla, clenching her fists against her chest.

  They heard more footsteps followed by a growl, a yelp and what sounded like a tussle between two angry creatures.

  “There’s some sort of animal Fight Club going on in the attic,” said Charlotte.

  “I don’t think this vacation could get worse if it tried,” said Darla, her chin dropping to her chest.

  Declan pivoted back into the hall, still scanning the ceiling. “Here it is,” he said.

  Charlotte followed to find Declan pulling a cord that hung from the ceiling. “I thought I remembered seeing attic access out here,” he said.

  “Oh, don’t pull that until I get a weapon or something,” said Charlotte, grabbing his arm.

  Declan paused. “Hm. Good point. I need some light, too. I was doing a little night painting the other day. I think I’ve still got a flashlight in my room.”

  Releasing the cord, he jogged down the hall and returned with a long red flashlight. “This thing is heavy. It can serve as weapon and light.”

  “Perfect. I think I’ll still hang a few steps behind you to be safe.”

  He grabbed the cord once more. “Ready?”

  Not really. She winced and nodded.

  “Hold on,” said Darla, who had been peering around the corner from her room. She shut the door.

  “I think she’s got the right idea,” said Charlotte.

  “I know I do! You two are out of your minds!” yelled Darla from behind the protection of her closed door.

  With one last glance at Charlotte, Declan pulled the cord. A two-by-three foot section of the ceiling creaked open to reveal a folded ladder bolted to the opposite side.

  They paused, listening for tiny clawed footsteps.

  Nothing.

  “I don’t hear anything,” whispered Charlotte.

  “Me neither.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?”

  Declan sighed. “Yes. Unless it means it’s there, crouched, waiting to jump on my face.”

  Charlotte nodded. “Right. Unless that.”

  Declan reached for the ladder while Charlotte cowered, preparing for something to fly out of the attic.

  “Something smells,” said Declan, unfolding the ladder.

  Charlotte sniffed. “Ooh. You’re right. That’s terrible. Smells like one of them lost critter fight club.

  “A while ago.”

  Flicking on his flash light, Declan mounted the ladder and climbed until his eyes were just above the edge and he could see into the attic.

  “Do you see anything?” asked Charlotte.

  He raised his arm to shine the beam into the attic.

  “Do you see anything?” she repeated.

  He backed a step and looked down at her.

  “No. But I’m also scared to answer you with my face in the attic. It might draw the attention of whatever the heck is up there.”

  She moved to the ladder. “Sorry. Tell you what—you go. I’ll follow you up.”

  He grimaced and climbed into the attic. Charlotte waited a moment to see if he was attacked and then followed.

  She wasn’t too proud to use him as a scout.

  “It reeks up here,” she said, pinching her nose as she joined him in the attic.

  “I know.”

  She looked up and noticed roofing nails hanging from the ceiling. It looked as if they’d entered a medieval torture device. “No matter what happens, don’t stand up straight or you’ll be lobotomized.”

  Declan rubbed the top of his head. “I know, I already got poked when I first stood. It’s killing me.”

  “Ouch. You didn’t yip or anything.”

  “I was trying to look tough for you.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “No problem.”

  Due to the sloping roof on either side, they could only stand on one wide beam in the very center of the room. Even then, Declan had to duck.

  Declan shone the light around the small space. On either side of the plank on which they stood, pink strips of insulation sat tucked between the beams. Scattered on those strips was a menagerie of superfluous household items. Lamps, Christmas decorations, miscellaneous lumpy trash bags and other items light enough to not crash through the dry wall beneath the insulation, nested on the fluffy pink stuffing.

  Declan shuffled down the length of the plank. “The smell gets worse down here.”

  “Great.” Charlotte followed, using the ceiling to steady herself and trying her best to avoid impaling her palms on the roofing nails.

  A small window marked the end of the line. Declan reached it and shone the flashlight down.

  “It looks like there’s a hole under—”

  A flash of movement made them both scream. Charlotte caught a glimpse of a black and gray, ringed tail before Declan backed into her and her weight shifted too far left. She caught herself on a beam, but not before her left foot slipped off the plank and planted into the stuffing.

  For a moment, all felt right with the world. Then her foot burst through the drywall below and she sank like a runaway elevator, one leg plunging down while the other hung up on the plank on which she’d been standing.

  Declan grabbed her flailing arm just as her knee disappeared into the room below, stopping her fall. Beneath her, she heard Darla scream.

  “Charlotte, why is your leg sticking from the ceiling? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Charlotte called, aware that it might be a lie. She hung from Declan’s grasp, panting, her nails digging into his flesh.

  “Ow,” he said.

  “I’ll fall if you let go.”

  “I won’t let go. I’m going to lift you back up. Ready?”

  She nodded.

  With a mighty jerk Declan lifted her back to her feet.

  She put her arms around him and clung there a moment, catching her breath.

  “That was scary,” she said.

  “Though I lost you there for a second,” said Declan, chuckling.

  “What was that? A raccoon?”

  He nodded. “Sorry. It jumped right at me and I backed into you before I could stop myself.”

  “Charlotte, are you okay?” called Darla.

  Charlotte peered down through the hole left by her leg. Darla stared up at her, sputtering and wiping her face as a fine cloud of plaster showered down.

  “I’m fine. There was a raccoon but it’s gone.”

  Darla put her hands on her hips. “So is half the ceiling!”

  Seamus’ face appeared beside Darla’s.

  “What are you two doing up there?” he asked.

  Charlotte heard Darla explaining to him about the animal noises and as she returned her attention to Declan.

  “Is that what stinks? The raccoons?” she asked.

  He’d already started to inch his way back to the end of the plank.

  “Probably Though it smells worse than animals. It smells like—”

  Declan swung the beam of his flashlight to the right and froze. Charlotte gasped and slapped her hand on her mouth. She wasn’t sure Darla could take any more screaming.

  This was going to be tough, though.

  Declan’s light revealed a human arm reaching from a dark green contractor bag. Three fingers had been gnawed away.

  Declan swept the beam and Charlotte could see two more bags, one torn, one intact. Hanging from the torn one was the edge of a hacksaw and another shiny object.

  “That answers where the saw went. I imagine the pliers are in there too,” said Declan.

  The thought of how the tools had been used made Charlotte shiver.

  “Is that the shiny thing? Pliers?” she asked.

  “I don’t think so. That looks like a knob or—”

  Charlotte realized the shape of the object was familiar. “It’s the salt shaker. It’s the pepper’s missing mate.”

  Declan scowled “Why would they hide that?”

  Charl
otte shook her head, her gaze drifting back to the arm thrusting through the other bag. “The real question is, how many bodies are up here?”

  “Don’t ask me to count. I’m just glad the chilly weather kept the smell and maggots down.”

  “Gross. I’m done with this.” Charlotte inched her way back down the beam toward the exit. “I might have to leave the rest of this to the police.”

  Declan followed. “I might have to sleep in the bus tonight.”

  “Take a pillow for me.”

  They climbed down the ladder. Declan folded it and closed the attic trapdoor before Seamus entered the hall.

  “We’ve got raccoons?” asked Seamus.

  Declan nodded. “Among other things.”

  “Rats?”

  Declan shook his head, his eyes wide as he tried to telegraph the severity of the problem to Seamus without saying it out loud.

  Darla entered the hall with her suitcase. “Thank goodness I’m already packed. I’ll sleep on the sofa if I have to, but you’re not getting me back in a room with a hole that leads to raccoon land above my head.” She stopped at the top of the stairs and looked back at them. “And something stinks in there now.”

  Darla headed downstairs and Seamus turned to Declan and Charlotte.

  “What’s up? Something is clearly up.”

  “There are bags of body parts up there,” said Charlotte, thinking of no easy way to break the news.

  Seamus’ eyes grew wide. “Bags?”

  “Trash bags full of bodies. That’s the smell. The raccoons were tearing through them and dragging pieces outside,” said Declan.

  “Dinah will be glad to hear there is even more evidence her cats are innocent,” said Charlotte.

  “You said bodies. More than one?” asked Seamus.

  “We couldn’t tell, and didn’t stay to figure it out,” said Declan.

  “We’ve got to get the cops here if we have to helicopter them in now,” said Seamus.

  Declan headed for the stairs. “I’ll go down and get a hunk of plywood to put over that hole. We don’t want the raccoons dropping things through there.”

  “And to keep the whole house from reeking,” said Charlotte.

  Seamus nodded. “Good point. If the others get a whiff of that stench they’ll be wantin’ to know what’s going on. We can’t have them all panicking while we’re stuck here.” Seamus retrieved his phone from his pocket. “I’m going to call the police and let them know to get here ASAP. I think if properly motivated, they’ll be able to find a way here by tomorrow morning.”