“Yes, of course. A horrible accident. I’m going to get Moody before she barks herself hoarse.”
“Good. I’ll clean up out here.”
Kalico watched the girl as she marched into Nancy’s house, and listened as she greeted Moody before she closed the front door. He knelt by the purple bag, and checked its inside pockets—just in case they had missed the EpiPen. He carefully placed sunscreen, mosquito spray, a water bottle, and a packet of Kleenex into the bag. He then picked up the shears and glove, paused, took out a plastic bag from his pocket, and sealed the glove inside of it. After placing the bag in his car, he gathered fallen ligustrum branches and set them on the curb for pick up. Lastly, he returned the ladder to Miss Winterjoy’s garage.
Lynn appeared at his side, a subdued Moody perched on her hip. The little dog’s feathery tail wagged when she saw Kalico who scratched her behind the ears. Lynn inhaled as the detective’s hand grazed hers and their eyes met.
“Strawberries.”
“What?”
“Just strawberries,” Kalico murmured foolishly. “You smell like strawberries.”
Lynn stepped back and placed Moody on the ground. “Thank you so much for your help today. Aunt Emelia is right: we are lucky that you were here.”
“A pleasure to be of service, ma’am.” Kalico grinned and bowed formally, flourishing his hands before him. “We cat detectives have our moments.”
Lynn laughed. “Really: thank you.”
“Welcome.” Kalico walked back to his car. “Lynn, who would know about Nancy’s allergies?”
“Anyone who knows Nancy. She’s allergic to bees—obviously—but also to honey, and nuts, and some citrus, and most perfumes. She has to be so careful.”
“And is she in the habit of carrying her EpiPen with her?”
“Yes. Always.” Lynn faltered. “Ben, you don’t think someone….”
“No,” he responded with more certainty than he felt. “Tell Emelia that I will be in touch.”
As he drove away, Kalico viewed Lynn in his rearview mirror and saw her raise a hand in farewell, before she straightened her shoulders and moved purposefully to the house. He doubted that he had allayed her suspicions and wished he could be honest with her. It was time for Aunt Emelia to come clean with her niece.
Chapter Eight
“M’s, where’s the white board?” Kalico burst into his office and didn’t break stride as he rushed to his desk.
“In the storage room. What’s up?”
“Will you set the board up and find the dry erase markers?” He turned on his computer, attached his phone, and began pulling up and printing pictures as M’s wheeled out the pristine board and opened a new carton of markers.
“Ben, what’s up?” M’s planted herself squarely in front of his desk.
Kalico quickly brought her up to date on the day’s events. He concluded, ”I think we’ve got a real case.”
“Mrs. MacLeod’s not…”
“No. She’s in the hospital and is going to be fine. But I believe we have an attempted homicide.” He waited for M’s response.
Her eyes widened with amazement. “So Miss Winterjoy was right.”
“Looks like it.” Kalico gathered the photographs from the printer’s tray. “Where’s the scotch tape?”
M’s moved behind his desk, opened his top drawer and handed him the tape. “Before you get started, I have a few messages for you. First: your mother called and wants you to pick up popcorn for tonight after all. Apparently, your dad got into the Kettle Corn. And she asked that you be on time.”
Kalico placed Nancy MacLeod’s picture at the center of the white board. “Ben, did you hear me?”
“Yes. Popcorn. Dad’s in the doghouse. Don’t be late.”
“Also Mr. Skifford called. He’s increased the reward for Ghost to $2500.00. Some bad news though—he’s not going to extend your retainer into next week.” Ben dragged his attention away from the white board and looked at M’s. “He said that he’s going to trust the greedy public to find his dog.”
Kalico shrugged. “Go ahead and post the new reward on all of our sites anyway, and send a special tweet to our volunteers.”
“I already did,” M’s confirmed. Before Kalico could disappear into the white board again, she continued. “Two more things. I confirmed your Monday meetings with both the Santigo Insurance Company and the Lawrence, Gunderson, and Reed law firm. I also compiled a list of local law firms and drafted the letter of introduction that you asked for. You just need to proof read it and sign.”
“Right. You’re the best. Will you please call South Austin Hospital and find out Mrs. MacLeod’s room number? Then have a small bouquet of flowers—no, have a small live plant, perhaps a geranium—sent to her room. Better use my personal credit card. The company card is…well, you know.”
“Will do. I’ll update the pet rescue websites and call the shelters too. We have three cats, six dogs, not including Ghost, and Merry, the hedgehog, on our retrieval list. Pippa’s owner called again in tears.
“Okay. Let’s not take on any more missing pets for now.” Kalico taped a picture of a grinning Connor holding a beer and flashing the hook ‘em horns sign on the board below Nancy.
He didn’t notice when M’s left.
Two hours later, she poked her head into his office. Kalico sat on his heels in front of the white board, now covered with pictures, notes, arrows, squiggles, and question marks.
“Ben, it’s 4:00. I have to get to class.”
He grunted.
“Mrs. MacLeod is in room 323.” She walked over to his computer and placed a post-it note on his screen. “Do you need anything else?”
He grunted again.
“You’ll need to leave for your parents’ house in 90 minutes. Don’t forget the popcorn.”
Kalico waved a hand in acknowledgment.
“Okay. I set an alarm reminder on your phone.”
Kalico’s eyes didn’t move from the board. He began writing something in black, erased it, and began writing again in red. He sat back on his heels.
***
The reception area phone buzzed, penetrating Kalico’s trance. “M’s? M’s, can you get that?” he called, loathe to leave the white board. But M’s had left for class, so he reluctantly picked up the call.
A young, breathless voice shouted into his ear. “Commander Kalico? This is Cadet Freddie. I can verify a Ghost sighting at Dick Nichols Park at 1700 hours. You need to get out here asap.”
“Will do, Cadet. And good work. My ETA is 20 minutes. Do not approach the husky. I repeat: do not approach the dog.”
“Time for a ghost hunt,” he murmured as he rushed to his car. Last month when he was canvassing a neighborhood for a missing Rottweiler puppy, he had founded Kalico’s Crusaders, a youth volunteer group. The children had becomes his eyes and ears for lost pets all over the greater Austin area.
Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into the Dick Nichols’State Park parking lot and jumped out of his Civic, scanning the area for Freddie. A noisy family was enjoying a picnic supper, runners pounded the cement trail, and several people were walking their dogs, but there were no boys around. I’m at the parking lot. Where r u? he texted. The response was immediate: Southwest quadrant. Squinting into the sun, he scanned the lot again. An elderly man was gently lifting an equally elderly, black miniature poodle from his ancient Toyota. A woman with two vocalizing Chihuahuas in her lap pulled into a space in front of him blocking his view. The two little dogs––a handsome tan boy and a petite, black and tan teacup girl––jumped gleefully from the car, noses to the ground. “Max! Kate! Wait!” The woman pursued them with leashes in hand. In the far corner of the lot, he spotted a little girl in camouflage, gazing at her phone.
“Freddie?”
The girl looked up. She was about ten years old, petite, with brown hair pulled back in a high ponytail. Recognizing Kalico, she came to attention. “Cadet Freddie reporting for duty, Commander.”
> “At ease, Cadet.” Kalico smothered a grin. “Report.”
The little girl stood with feet apart and hands behind her back. “Yes, sir.” She pulled out a small notebook and began to read rapidly. “At 1630 Cadet Travis Brown and I began patrol. Our objective was to find Ruffles, a missing Yellow Lab. After making one round of the park, we began to question civilians. The Evans family reported that a huge, white dog stole a package of hotdogs and ran off in that direction.” She pointed toward a wooded area in the center of the park. “We scouted the area. Cadet Travis found the empty hotdog package. We continued up the trail for approximately ten meters, when we saw Ghost.” Freddie’s voice rose in excitement, and she lost her military composure. “Man, he was big and gorgeous. Blue eyes––just like in his pictures, and the whitest coat ever. He just stared at me, then he vanished. I swear.” She held up her right hand. “One minute he was in front of us, and the next—just gone. I wish he were my dog. Mom won’t let me have a dog. She says that they’re too much trouble, but I’d take care of it.”
“Excellent report.” The girl snapped back to attention. “Where is Cadet Travis now?”
“His mother called him home for dinner,” Freddie sniffed in disgust, as though she was reporting a deserter.
“Do you have your parents’ permission to, uh, patrol here? It’s almost sunset.”
“I do not have to report home until 1800 hours.”
Kalico’s phone alarm began to chime: 5:30. He was supposed to be at his folks’ house. He sent a quick message to tell them he would be late. “Okay, show me where you saw Ghost.” He was alarmed at the girl’s willingness to go off alone with a stranger. He made a mental note to remind Freddie about stranger danger—after she led him to the missing husky.
Freddie took off down the paved trail with Kalico jogging behind her. She veered to the left onto a narrow dirt path, slowing her pace. They moved quietly through a grove of cedars and live oaks that suddenly opened up onto a grassy meadow, filled with wildflowers. The angled sunlight made the Texas primroses, Mexican Hats, and Indian Paintbrush glow.
“He ate the hotdogs here.” Freddie pointed to a spot just off the trail where they could see bits of yellow and red plastic.
“Quiet.” Kalico held up a hand took the lead. “We don’t want to spook him.”
They progressed down the trail in silence. Freddie tugged at his sleeve to signal stop. She pointed. “He was just there by that little tree,” she whispered.
They continued up the trail until it intersected with the pavement. The light was growing dim and the air, chilly. “We’d better get back,” Kalico said, but did not move. Freddie was still and as silent as a statue beside him. Suddenly, the hair on Kalico’s arms stood on end. Was it the cold or something else? He held his breath and listened. A soft rustle of branches. The wind or…?
“Ghost,” he called softly. “Come here, boy. Ghost…”
Eyes glinted in the brush across from him then vanished.
He released his breath. “Let’s go,” he said in a normal tone.
Freddie marched dejectedly beside him. “Sorry,” she said. “I thought we’d get him.”
“You did a great job.” The little girl looked doubtful. “No, really. You came closer to Ghost than anyone else so far. Exemplary work, Cadet.”
Freddie beamed. “Really? Thanks.”
“Thank you. And I bet he stays in this area—there’s food, water, and shelter.”
“I’ll patrol this weekend and after school,” the girl pledged.
“But not by yourself. Cadets always go on reconnaissance in teams. It’s a matter of safety and accuracy. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” She began to skip.
“And do not go off with strangers,” he added.
“I know better than to do that,” she scoffed, insulted that the commander would consider her such an ignorant baby. “Besides, I know you.”
“You do?”
“Sure. I check your website hourly. We just gotta get lost pets to their people.”
“We do,” Kalico affirmed. “So your dad’s in the military?”
“Yes. Mom too. How did you know?” Freddie looked at him with admiration.
“High powered detective skills,” he laughed.
“Grandpa Jim is a Vietnam War hero. He took apart bombs. I’m gonna do that when I get older.”
The parking lot came into view. “Are you okay going home alone? It’s almost dark.”
“Sure. I just live across the street.”
“Okay, then. And, Freddie, again good job.”
The girl grinned and saluted. “I’ll be on duty here all day tomorrow,” she promised. “We’ll find the Ghost for his person.”
He watched as the girl safely crossed Escarpment. The western sky glimmered pink and peach and gold as Kalico drove to a convenience store to buy popcorn and made his way to his parents’ house. The Kalico clan had saved pizza for him and were eager to hear about his ghostly adventure. If he retrieved the husky, he would share the reward with Freddie.
Chapter Nine
Emelia Winterjoy watched the sun set through the horizontal blinds of a third floor hospital room window. For a moment a few clouds were touched with brilliant colors, then they faded to gray and white, and night descended. Isn’t this a metaphor for life? she thought. She tucked a strand of short white hair behind her ear —hair that a young man had likened to rich mahogany a thousand years ago.
“We have to stop meeting this way,” a hoarse voice whispered behind her.
“I know! The food is mediocre and the accommodation not at all luxurious,” she responded lightly, walking over to Nancy MacLeod’s bed and picking up a tall plastic water glass. She placed the straw beneath her friend’s lips and held the glass as the patient drank.
“Thanks, Em. Now isn’t this just a fine kettle of fish?” Nancy frowned at her swollen right hand and forearm that nestled in a foam contraption. Her face and eyes were still red and swollen.
“Three hospital visits in as many months are a bit excessive, Nancy.”
“Agreed! I should be accident-free now for a good long time.” She smiled optimistically. “You know what they say: third time’s the charm.”
“From your lips to God’s ears.” They’ll be no more accidents if I can help it, she vowed silently. Aloud she asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Ready to go home and sleep in my own bed.” She attempted to sit up, then sank back into her pillow. “Oh, you brought my throw.” She ran her left hand lovingly over the rich greens and blues of the hand knitted throw. “And my pictures!” In the first, her late husband, Gareth, posed with their son, Patrick, who was proudly holding baby Connor in his arms. In the second, Gareth was playing tug of war with Moody. In the last, four ladies in Sunday dress were toasting Nancy.
“Lynn brought them by earlier when you were napping. And see your flowers?”
“They’re lovely. Will you read the cards to me?”
Emelia placed her reading glasses on her nose. “These white daisies are from Lynn. The card just says, ‘Bee-have and you’ll be home before you know it!’ She spelled behave with two e’s—very punny.” Nancy laughed. “This garish bouquet is from the book club girls. The card just says, ‘Love you!’ Margie’s handwriting, of course! And this pink geranium is from Benjamin Kalico.”
“So thoughtful!” Nancy sighed.
“Connor was here too,” Emelia reassured her friend. He had finally shown up late in the afternoon. To do him justice, he had seemed genuinely upset and explained, inarticulately as usual, that he’d turned his phone off during an exam and forgot to turn it on again. “Do you remember?”
“Yes, vaguely. Poor dear. He just hates hospitals—ever since his grandpa….” Nancy shook her head as if to remove a painful memory.
“Connor had to leave for work, but promised that he’d see you tomorrow during visiting hours.”
“Good. He cannot risk losing his job. He’s trying so hard to be respo
nsible.”
Emelia did not comment but looked skeptical.
“No, really, he is. Who has not acted rashly in their youth? He has turned a corner and is making up for his mistakes now.”
“I don’t recall that we ever acted foolishly.”
“Then, Emelia, your memory is failing you,” Nancy asserted. “Remember that time on 6th Street….”
The two old friends chatted comfortably. At 7:00 a nurse bustled into the room to check Nancy’s temperature and blood pressure; an orderly delivered a bland chicken dinner with banana pudding—which Emelia ate. Kalico called for an update on Nancy’s condition, and Lynn called to wish her a good night.
“Emelia, you should go home and get some sleep.”
“I will, dear. I’ll just keep you company until visiting hours are over.” Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down to read a text from Kalico. It contained a single question.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Just Lynn telling me that the dogs and Perdita are fed. Moody misses you,” she prevaricated. Then thinking of Kalico’s question she added, “Lynn mentioned that there was a big box of books in your foyer. Did you want it moved into the garage or taken to Half Price?”
“Heavens, no. The girls brought the books over this morning on their way to bingo. They’re for our Reading is Fundamental program. Every child will receive a brand new book.” She smiled. “Oh no. Did someone call the library?”
“Yes. They know you will not be in tomorrow.”
“But who will take over the Saturday story corner? I hope it’s not Marion; she just can’t create character voices. I do wish….” Nancy plucked at her sheets nervously.
“Nancy, you need to stop worrying. Remember your blood pressure. I’m sure Story Corner will survive without you this once.”
At 8:30 Miss Winterjoy wished her friend a good night and made her way out of the hospital. Stepping into the crisp March air, she felt the weight of the day lift momentarily. She texted Kalico: Nancy secured for the night. Box delivered by book circle group. I expect your report first thing in the a.m. Then she went home, cuddled her dogs, and, although she disapproved of drinking alone, poured herself a glass of red wine.
Maybe Murder Page 7
