“Doesn’t do much for me either, but whoever it is only seems to want food. Nothing else’s gone missing.”
“Not yet, it hasn’t. But if they come in at night or when we’re gone, what’s to stop them from taking my laptop, camera, or anything else of value?” Bea took a sip of coffee with shaky hands.
“Nothing to stop them. But so far it seems they’re only hungry. Maybe some homeless guy.”
“Maybe we should call Callie and report this. If someone’s breaking in here, maybe they’re breaking into other homes also.”
“Might not be a bad idea, but you can hardly call it breaking in when we don’t lock the doors.”
Bea stood, opened the refrigerator, and took out the bacon and eggs. One of her habits, when she’s upset, either she cooked or ate. Today looked like it was going to be a cooking day. Not that she ate what she made. Nope, for as much as she ate the other times, when she was in the cooking mode, all she did was cook. If he was lucky, she’d even bake a pie or something.
Talk about luck, Bea made a peach pie, chocolate cake, and apple tarts. Who she thought was going to eat all that was beyond Ed. But darned if he’d complain. She could freeze the tarts and even the chocolate cake, but that peach pie was his. He couldn’t wait until it cooled.
Ethel called and invited them to dinner. Said they wanted to talk about fostering a dog. Greg needed more information. Even told them to bring Bixby along. Bea decided to take the apple tarts for dessert. Ethel wasn’t a bad cook, but she wasn’t much of a baker. Besides what were they going to do with all that food?
“Bea, didn’t you just do laundry?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Where’s my blue t-shirt with the pocket?”
“Oh, for heaven sake, it’s right there in the drawer. If it had a mouth, it’d bite you.” Bea pulled open the dresser drawer. “What the heck? I put it right here on top of the yellow one.”
“What yellow one?”
Bea lifted several shirts. “It’s gone, too. Something mighty strange going on here, Ed. Are you hiding clothes now?”
Hiding clothes. Sometimes that woman just didn’t think. “Why in the world would I hide clothes?”
“Well I put them in the drawer yesterday, and today they’re gone. What else am I supposed to think?”
“If I was hiding clothes would I point it out to you? Are you sure you put them in the drawer?” Uh oh, whenever Bea pursed her lips that way he knew he’d overstepped his bounds.
“Are you insinuating I lied?”
“Not at all, honey pot. Just maybe you left the basket of clothes in the laundry room.”
“Don’t you think I’d remember where I left the laundry basket? I put the clothes in the drawer like I always do. When have you ever known me to leave the clothes in the laundry room? I swear, Ed, you out to drive me crazy?”
He pulled a shirt out of the drawer. “Never mind now, we’d better go or we’ll be late.”
Bea looked especially good tonight. Her skin glowed, and she looked younger than her years. “You look like an iron hit you,” Ed said. For some reason, his words didn’t always come out the way he wanted, or maybe he tried to be too humorous.
“What?”
“You look like….”
“I heard what you said, what the heck does that mean?”
The hurt look on her face tore through him, yet he couldn’t help but laugh. Heck, he laughed when he said it. “You’re wrinkle free.” Ed put his foot in his mouth farther than he should have. Sometimes he just didn’t know when to stop. Apparently, this was one of those times.
Bea’s look turned from one of hurt to one of anger. “Wrinkles? Are you saying I have wrinkles?”
“Now honey pot, you know what I mean, those crow’s feet around your eyes.” Yep, he dug a deeper hole.
She crossed her arms and stared him down, a hint of a smile playing about her lips. As Ed said earlier, one thing about Bea, she has a great sense of humor, or maybe she noticed his discomfort and effort to get out of it. On the other hand, she might just have been trying to give him a hard time. She did that on occasion.
“So, you think my wrinkles have been ironed out, is that it?”
“You never looked prettier.”
“Good save.” Bea hugged him and all was forgiven. “Let’s get going, Ethel will have a fit if we’re late.”
Greg was a great guy and more than willing to foster a dog, but he wasn’t too sure about the process. Ed explained it was only temporary and how it was up to the foster parent to interview potential homeowners for the pets. The rescue center would provide the names. “They suggest you meet them at a public place and don’t invite them to your home. Eventually, you’ll take the dog to their home, check it out and make sure it’s a good fit for both the owners and the dogs.”
“So how did you get Bixby so soon? No one came to your house, did they?”
“No, but that’s because we’re only fostering. If someone wanted to adopt him, we’d have to interview potential homeowners. Not that it’s going to come to that. No way Bea or I would give him up now. It’s only a matter of time before we apply for adoption.”
Bea and Ethel disappeared into the kitchen to finish making dinner and more than likely to plot out their next course of action at the dog shelter.
“What if we decide we want to adopt a dog?” Greg drank a beer while they talked.
“Simple, you adopt it. Just like us. Bea’s really taken to Bixby. Never saw her like that before. She even lets him sleep with us.” Bea really had taken to Bixby. Hardly ever let him out of her sight. “She took him for walks several times already. Never lets him out alone. Said she was afraid of coyotes or something hurting him. I would have liked a bigger dog, but I must admit Bixby is all dog. First time I took him out, he chased a leaf, barking ferociously. He obviously has what they call the “Napoleon Complex”. Guess I should be happy Bea even wants a dog after all this time. Luckily her cat, Floozy, gets along with Bixby.”
“Ethel said something about a beagle she has her eye on. I’d rather have a German Shepherd, but I won’t complain. Never thought she’d want a dog either. Tried like hell to get one when the kids were younger and she’d have no part of it.” Greg took another swallow of beer. “So, that’s all there is to it, just take them in, take care of them and interview potential owners.”
“Pretty much the way I understand it.”
Bea and Ethel set dinner on the table. Bea didn’t eat much, not that it surprised Ed. She really was upset about the idea of someone breaking in. Even made him lock the door when they left. He couldn’t ever remember doing that before. She insisted they do it from now on, and hid a key under the doormat in case one of them forgot theirs. Not that he expected that to happen. Their keys were on key chains and if they left home, they usually drove. Granted, they walked the dog, but he hardly found it necessary to lock the door then. They didn’t go that far. Bea worried about Bixby getting tired.
Ed couldn’t wait to get home to have a piece of that peach pie. The tarts were good, but his mouth watered for that pie. They left Ethel’s with Greg agreeing to join them at the shelter over the weekend to find out more about the foster care.
“Hopefully, they’ll let me work in the office this time,” Bea said.
“I’m hoping to walk some dogs for a change. I can use the exercise.” Besides, there were a couple Shepherd mixes he’d love to get to know better, not that Bea would let him get one, but it’d be more fun walking the dogs than feeding them and cleaning out the pens.
“I’m going to take Bixby for a walk,” Bea said when they pulled in the drive. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Fine by me. My mouth’s watering for that peach pie.” Ed kissed Bea’s cheek and unlocked the door.
Bea followed Ed in. “I want my warmer jacket and boots.”
Snow had started to flurry as they pulled in. First snow of the season usually didn’t stick, but you never knew. He hadn’t listened to the forecast s
o had no idea what to expect.
“Bea, where’d you put the peach pie?”
“It’s on the counter next to the chocolate cake.” Bea zipped up her jacket. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Ed looked around the kitchen. The chocolate cake sat on the counter, but no pie. What the hell? He looked in the refrigerator. Not there. Even pulled open some of the cabinets, not that he really thought he’d find it in there.
Bea came back a few minutes later, scooped up Bixby and took off his leash. “What’s wrong?”
“The peach pie is gone.”
“What do you mean it’s gone? The door was locked.”
“I know the door was locked, but the pie is gone. Unless you hid it.”
“Seriously? You’re not joking around? Edward Leroy Eberhardt, you didn’t eat that whole pie, did you?”
“I’m telling you the pie’s gone. I didn’t eat any of it.”
“That does it. I’m calling Callie.” Bea grabbed the phone.
“What are you going to say, someone stole a pie? She’ll think you’re nuts.”
“It’s not just the pie, Ed. What about the other food? What about your shirts? Someone’s breaking in. It’s only a matter of time before they steal something valuable.” Bea punched in the numbers.
“Callie, it’s me. Aunt Beatrice Lulu. Someone broke in. Can you come over?” Bea hung up. “She’ll be over in a few minutes.
Ed cut himself a large slice of chocolate cake. He loved chocolate cake, but his mouth still watered for peach pie. Chocolate cake wasn’t going to cut it. He ate it anyway, having a sweet tooth and still hungry. He had to admit it was the best Bea ever baked. Rich, moist, and chocolaty. Melted in his mouth. He dropped a small piece on the floor and scooped it up just before Bixby got it. Couldn’t risk him eating chocolate and getting sick.
“Aunt Beatrice Lulu, are you okay?” Callie rushed in and hugged Bea. “Uncle Ed, what happened? What’s going on?” Callie looked around, checked the doors and windows. “You said someone broke in.”
“More than once, apparently.” Bea took Ed’s empty plate to the sink.
“What do you mean more than once? I don’t see any signs of a break-in. What are you talking about?” Callie didn’t bother to hide her annoyance.
For some reason, Bea irritated her. Ed never could figure out why. “Food’s turned up missing more than once.” Ed interrupted. “First it was peanut butter and bread. Then some milk. Today it’s a peach pie.”
“Don’t forget the roast and your shirts,” Bea added. “I’m not crazy, Callie, and I know these might seem insignificant to you, but the fact remains, someone has been in our house without our knowledge. I feel desecrated.”
Callie turned to Bea, sympathy evident on her face. “You’re right, Aunt Beatrice Lulu. I’m sorry. Do you know how they got in?”
“Normally we don’t lock the door, but since stuff’s disappeared, we’ve been locking it.” Bea rinsed the dish and set it in the dishwasher.
That woman always had to be doing something. Never could sit still. Ed shook his head.
“You’re sure it was locked?” Callie looked at him for confirmation, ignoring Bea.
“I locked it myself.” Ed stood and poured a cup of coffee. “Unfortunately, we put a spare key under the doormat. I know. I know.” He raised his hand to quiet her objections. “It’s not smart, and I’ll remove it.”
Callie looked around. “Are you sure nothing else is missing. Anything of value? Not that food isn’t valuable, but you know what I mean.”
“So far nothing.” Ed raised a cup to Callie. “Coffee?”
“No thanks. When do all these break-ins take place?”
“So far when we’re not home. I think it’s a homeless person.” Ed set his coffee on the counter. “Homeless and hungry.”
“Could be, but I’ve not seen any strangers around. No reason for them to steal food, though, the church has a food bank.”
“Well someone’s stealing our food. One of Bea’s peach pies disappeared tonight. You know how I feel about Bea’s peach pie.”
“She does make the best peach pie. I’ll have my people check into it.” Callie nudged Ed to follow her. “I’ll check back with you later, Aunt Beatrice Lulu.”
Ed walked Callie out to her car. “What’s going on? Did they catch Butch yet?”
“Not yet. Listen, Ed, I don’t like this. I’ve had a guy watching your house since Butch escaped. They’ve not seen anyone going into your house.”
“Well, someone’s getting in and stealing food. You don’t think it could be Butch, do you?”
Callie shrugged. “At this point I’m not sure what to think. But why would he steal food? If he was after Aunt Beatrice Lulu, surely he’d have done something already.”
“Unless he’s biding his time, waiting for the right minute to strike.”
“Maybe. I’ll keep in touch.” Callie gave Ed a quick hug and got in to her car. “Stay close to her, Ed. She means a lot to us.”
“I will, don’t worry.”
Chapter 6
Either Callie didn’t believe Beatrice Lulu’s story or she thought Butch was stealing the food. It’d be just like her to conceal it. Why did everyone think she was so fragile? Okay, so she freaked out in court, but she’d recovered. She was fine now. Did they honestly think Butch hadn’t entered her mind? She wasn’t a moron. Heck, he was her first thought. But why would he steal food? Surely, he wouldn’t hang around and risk getting caught. Butch didn’t strike her as the type to play games. He was more like the get it done and get out of town type. Nah, it wasn’t Butch. But then who?
Bea tried to put the thought out of her mind. No sense worrying about something she couldn’t control. She had enough problems trying to find out what or who was making the dogs sick. She didn’t need to deal with another mystery.
No more had Callie left than their new Assistant Pastor pulled up. Ed hadn’t been to church for a few weeks and hadn’t met him yet. Young guy about 35, good-looking and big. Big as in muscular. Single, too, which the younger women liked. Who knew, maybe they’d even pick up a few new members. Beatrice Lulu let him in and he followed her to the living room.
“Ed, this is Reverend Patrick O’Neil.”
Before Bea had a chance to complete the introduction, Pastor reached out and shook Ed’s hand. “Ed, it’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Pastor, I’m so glad you’re here, she’s being mean to me.” Ed pointed at Bea.
Pastor’s mouth dropped open. He looked between Ed and Bea in horror, at a loss for words.
Not everyone understood Ed’s sense of humor. Fortunately, Bea recovered quickly and laughed. “Ed, you promised not to tell. Besides, you wouldn’t know mean if it hit you with a stick.”
Pastor laughed. Thank goodness, he got the joke. They had a very nice visit, talking about everything under the sun. Sports being the main topic, as everyone seemed to enjoy the fact the Cleveland Cavaliers won the championship and the Cleveland Indians came close to winning the World Series. They’d get it next year.
Pastor finally got around to the purpose of his visit. “I’ve not seen you in church since I arrived, Ed.”
Ed squirmed in his seat. “Guess I’ll have to put in an appearance. “
Pastor stood. “Good, I look forward to seeing you.”
Bea walked him out. “Thanks for visiting, Pastor. I’ll see you Sunday, hopefully with Ed in tow.”
At the rescue center the next day, loud voices came from the office. Ed grabbed Bea’s arm, holding her from going inside. “Whatever’s going on is none of our business.”
Not that it mattered. Bea shrugged off Ed’s hand and went straight inside. Not to be out done, Ethel followed. Ed almost turned around and left, but sense of duty stopped him. If nothing else, he had to keep Bea out of trouble.
An older, bald gentleman, maybe mid-70s, stood in front of Louise Jensen’s desk. Big, giant of a man. “If you can’t keep those dogs quiet at night, I�
��m calling the police.”
His deep gravelly voice grated on Bea’s nerves. True to form, she stepped up before Louise had a chance to say anything. “Now look here, Mister, it’s impossible to keep dogs quiet. Maybe someone’s snooping around where they don’t belong. The dogs are just sounding the alarm. Matter of fact, maybe someone’s snooping on your property, and they’re saving you from being robbed.”
Ed had to give her credit, she stood her ground, hands on her hips and stared the guy down, or should he say up. She’d have been nose to nose if she could’ve reach him. Not that his height mattered, not to Bea, she didn’t care how tall, how big, or how important. When she defended someone or something, size didn’t matter. For someone who didn’t like dogs, she’d certainly taken to defending them. Ed always knew she had a heart of gold, just never expected to see it in defense of dogs.
Louise looked at Bea with a new-found respect. The old guy’s mouth dropped open. He turned on his heels and left. “You’ve not heard the last of this.”
“Who was that guy?” Bea sat in the bench across from Louise.
“Phineas J. Culpepper the Third, ornery old cuss and neighborhood whiner. Complains about everybody and everything. Lives next door. Lived there for years and never heard anything from him. Quiet man, kept to himself. But that was before his wife died, almost a year now. He’s been complaining about the dogs barking for months. It wouldn’t be the first time he called the police. They’ve warned me once already. If he complains again, they might shut this place down. There’s no way I can keep the dogs quiet.”
“I know that name. Didn’t he have something to do with politics?” Ed sat on the only chair in the office, besides Louise’s.
“Yes, a councilman. Made a run for Mayor but didn’t make it. Some said he was too soft-spoken, didn’t have the stamina for the job.”
“Boy, he sure has changed.” Beatrice Lulu said. “You don’t suppose he’s feeding the dogs something to make them sick, do you?”
Nothing Ventured Nothing Gained Page 5
