The Squeaky Clean Skeleton

by R A Muth

  “And if ye have some flashy gold jewelry, you’ll look like a right Irish traveler.”

  This term, I recognized from a reality show featuring gypsy weddings. I snapped my fingers and said, “That’s a great idea, and I have the perfect pair of earrings. They’re silver stars that dangle inside of big, gold hoops.”

  “Brilliant!” Rune clapped.

  They were a gift from my former mother-in-law, and I always thought them a bit gaudy compared to the delicate rhinestone studs, which were more my style. Guilt refused to let me throw them out before, but now I was glad I hadn’t.

  “We should get some sleep. Let me show you to the spare room.” Beckoning with one hand, I led Rune down the hall to the extra bedroom. As it was on the opposite side of the house, it was safe enough to let him use it for the night. Digging around in the back of the closet, I pulled out a pair of sweats, the only things I’d kept of Duffy’s after he died. “There’s a bathroom with a shower through that door, and here are some spare clothes. I can wash them tomorrow if you like, or I guess we could have them dry cleaned.” Unable to hold back a yawn, I covered my mouth with my hand. “Oh, excuse me.”

  “Ye must be exhausted. Get on to sleep yerself. Ye’ve made me more than welcome, and on short notice to boot.”

  “Well, as you pointed out, it is my fault you’re here.” I stuck out my tongue in playful defiance, but to show him I was a proper hostess, I added, “Seriously, though, please let me know if you need anything while you’re here. Goodnight, Rune.”

  “Goodnight, lass.” His eyes gazed into mine.

  Before I could say anything sappy that I might regret in the morning, I turned and fled to the safety of the master suite and locked the door behind me.

  Going through my bedtime routine seemed to take twice as long as usual. By the time I crawled beneath the blankets, every nerve was on edge. Despite the wicked eventful day, my eyes closed almost before my head hit the pillow, and they didn’t open again until the light of day.

  Chapter 21

  The smell of food roused me from the cocoon of blankets on my bed’s ultra-plush pillowtop mattress. Replacing the bed was one of the first things I did with what remained of Duffy’s life insurance policy after paying for his funeral, and I loved that it held no memories of our marriage.

  It was true what they said about removing negative energy from a space. Between the new bed and not having to listen to Duffy’s snoring, I was more rested than I had since before we married. I might sound horrible, speaking ill of the dead, but if you’d have met Duffy then you’d understand.

  Burrowing beneath the covers for as long as possible held a certain appeal, but a stranger was in my home. I jumped out of bed and pulled my plush, terrycloth robe over my flannel pajamas before venturing into the kitchen. Rune was at the stove, shirtless, his back to me.

  “Good morning,” I said cautiously, holding my questions for now. On the one hand, seeing my houseguest in his human form proved I hadn’t dreamt up the events of the previous day. On the other hand, however, it meant he could turn into a cat the moment anyone else was around. Not to mention that I’d still have to perform a fake séance later that night.

  Spinning around, spatula in hand, Rune grinned. “Top of the morning! Are ye hungry?”

  “What are you doing, Rune?”

  “I’m using this cooker to fry our breakfast. You have a big day ahead.”

  “How did you figure out how to use my stove?”

  Rune pointed the spatula at the laptop sitting on the counter. “You showed me the Goggle, and when I couldn’t sleep, I goggled how to use the cooker.”

  “You mean you Googled it?”

  “Aye, that’s right. I hope ye’ve got a mouth on ye, as I’ve prepared a feast. Go on, sit.” Rune held out the same chair I occupied the night before.

  Pulling my bathrobe around my pajamas and knotting the belt a little tighter, I sat. Within seconds, Rune sat a plate of eggs, sausage, and pancakes in front of me. “This is awesome. I wish I had an iPad for work so I could leave the laptop with you. You’ve taken to it like a duck to water.”

  Rune peered at me. “Why would ye need an eyepatch?”

  “No, no, an iPad. It’s like the laptop but smaller,” I explained, gesturing with my hands to indicate the size.

  Setting a glass of orange juice in front of me, Rune commented, “How curious.”

  “No coffee?” I blurted, immediately regretting it. Rune went through all this work, and the question made me sound ungrateful.

  “We have juice,” he countered. I started to push my chair back when Rune sat a coffee mug next to my plate. He winked. “And we have caramel lattes.”

  “You made lattes? Are you sure you aren’t my wish come true?” I said with a laugh. Lifting my fork, I used it to cut a bite-sized portion of meat away from the rest of the sausage patty. When the food hit my mouth, I moaned. “Oh my God, this is delicious. What did you do to it?”

  A feline meow drew my attention to the kitchen floor as behind me the back door inched open.

  “Yoohoo, how was your first night with your new friend?” Hazel’s voice called as she entered my home. When she saw the food on the counter, her mouth dropped open. “You cooked? It looks and smells delicious, girlfriend. And you made enough for both of us!”

  “Um, I sure did. Grab a plate and sit.” Poor Rune. He fixed this wonderful meal, and now he wouldn’t get to have breakfast with me. It wasn’t like I could explain to Hazel, though. “How was your dinner with Sven?”

  “What can I say? He loved my cooking, as always.” Hazel preened.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. Before I could respond, however, Rune hopped onto the counter in one swift leap.

  Hazel gingerly lifted my cat and returned him to the floor. “No, no, kitty. If you’re on the counter around food, your hair might get in it, and that would be yucky-wucky.”

  I suppressed a giggle as she continued a stream of baby talk directed at my cat while helping herself to the food on the stove and took the seat across from me. If she only knew. Without Rune, there would be no breakfast, and we’d be stopping off at Mocha Joe’s for something deep-fried and covered in chocolate.

  “So, how did séance planning go?”

  “We were awake until midnight researching, but we put together a solid outline of what to do. And Rune suggested some items to add to the dress to make it look more authentic.” Oh, crap. What had I said? I looked up, and sure enough, Hazel was staring at me from across the table. Playing it off, I asked, “What’s wrong? A woman can’t have meaningful, late-night conversations with her cat?”

  “If anyone had told me that becoming a widow would turn you into an authentic cat lady, I would have never believed them.” Hazel took a bite of the sausage and gave a little moan.

  “Well, that makes two of us. How’s your breakfast?”

  “You’ve been holding out on me! When did you learn to cook like this?”

  At the moment, the whole truth wasn’t an option, so I settled for as close as I could get without lying to my bestie. Waving my fork toward the counter where the laptop sat open, I replied, “Behold, the power of Google.”

  “So, tell me about the plan for the séance we’re putting on for Marci and her cousins.”

  As we discussed the outline Rune and I had put together the night before, I sneaked bits of sausage and egg under the table to his kitty self at every opportunity. How could I not share with my houseguest when he leaned against my leg and looked at me with such a forlorn expression?

  “Using your new cat in the séance is genius, by the way.”

  “Oh, it was pretty much Rune’s idea.”

  At her look of disbelief, I gave a big wink. We shared a good laugh, which almost covered the sound of a grouchy feline hiss coming from beneath the table.

  Hazel and I continued discussing the fine details about the séance over breakfast. She reviewed my notes and nodded approvingly.

  “Wow, this is g
reat. If I didn’t know better, I’d think we were going to call Christine Livingston back from the dead for real.”

  “Let’s hope not.” I shuddered, remembering Rune’s comments from the previous night about how horrible woman was in life.

  “You don’t think that would be cool? Then we’d find out for sure who killed her. Plus, imagine what a relief that would be to Marci and her cousins.” When I didn’t answer at once, she asked, “So, how can I help clean up from breakfast?”

  “That’s okay. I’ve got it. I’m going to put these leftovers in the fridge. Hey, should I bring my laptop today?” I eyed the device, hating the thought of packing and lugging it to another location.

  “Nah, leave it here.”

  “Alrighty. If you’d like to refill our coffee, I wouldn’t refuse another cup.”

  “We’re going to need it. First on today’s agenda is a trip back to Asher’s.”

  If I could, I’d tell Hazel to reschedule. Spending the day with Rune sounded much more inviting, but I doubted the bank and utility companies would understand if I failed to pay my bills. After all, my life was like the often-misquoted line from Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. I owe, I owe, so off to work I go.

  I followed Hazel out of the house but made an excuse to go back for my tote bag. Rune, in his human form once more, leaned against the counter and glowered at me.

  “Rune, I am so wicked sorry. There wasn’t much I could do, under the circumstances. Breakfast was delicious, and there’s plenty left.” A blush rose in my cheeks as he stared at me. What was it about him that had this effect on me?

  “No need to be scunderated.” He reached over and patted my shoulder. Before I could ask him what the word meant, the sound of Hazel blowing the minivan’s horn sounded loud and clear across the yard and into the house. Rune tilted his head in the direction of the door. “Go on, lass. Yer other lass awaits.”

  Chapter 22

  The temperature was a good ten degrees higher than the day before, and the wind blowing in from the coast was blissfully absent. The rays of sunshine fighting their way through a smattering of wispy clouds formed by lingering fog created an atmosphere that was almost balmy compared to the previous morning.

  I felt terrible about abandoning Rune for the second day in a row, but if he could figure out how to cook that delicious breakfast with the sparse contents of my fridge, then I was sure he’d find a way to occupy himself--likely with my laptop again.

  Glad I had the sense to wear a hooded sweatshirt beneath my parka, I ditched my heavy coat in Hazel’s minivan and donned my apron.

  From the moment I stepped out of the car, the muscles around my shoulders and neck tensed up. Something about the sheds behind the brewery gave me a wicked creepy vibe. It was like the moment in horror movies when the killer’s next victim takes the first step into a dank basement lit by a single incandescent bulb on its last legs, the dim light creating more shadows than it dispelled. The audience knows the person should turn back and leave, but this was real life. There was no one to tell Hazel and I what we’d uncover in the sheds, and, like the blissfully unaware victims in horror movies, my best friend seemed oblivious to my wariness.

  Then again, maybe we wouldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. Perhaps I was still keyed up from the day before, and that was why I was paranoid. There was nothing like seeing a decomposed corpse in an attic to help you overthink your career choice, right?

  “You okay?” Hazel asked as if finally sensing my doubts about the project looming before us.

  Was I okay? That was an excellent question. Yesterday we discovered a decomposing skeleton. Right now, there was an Irishman--or cat, whatever--in my home. And tonight, we would perform a fake séance to try and snoop out clues about who killed our previous client.

  No, I decided, I was not okay. Although I did not doubt Hazel knew the answer before asking the question, for the sake of getting the job done, I plastered on my biggest, fakest smile and said, “Never better.”

  “Atta girl. Let’s get this done so we can get out of here.” Hazel handed me an iPad and said, “This should help speed things along.”

  “You got an iPad for the business?”

  “It’s business-related, but it’s yours--to keep, forever.”

  “Wow, Hazel! I’m not sure what to say, except thank you! An iPad? This gift is so generous of you.” I hugged her tightly.

  “I wish I could take credit, but it was Sven’s idea. He got me a new one, too!” She returned the hug before pulling a second device from her bag. “And look, he already synced it with mine for when we use our inventory software, and the changes go live on both devices no matter if you or I input the details. And if you link your cloud storage details, we can share folders with images and notes about each job.”

  “Please pass along my thanks.” Although I still had no desire to dig into the sheds, I was pretty excited to use my new technological toy. “I can’t wait to show it to Rune! He might enjoy it, too.”

  “Whoever heard of a cat using an iPad?” Hazel laughed. “Let me guess. Are you going to watch cat videos on YouTube while snuggling in bed together? Teach him how to call your phone from the iPad so you can stay connected when you’re not together? Can’t say that I blame you. That old tomcat is one handsome fella.”

  Oh. My. Goodness. What had I done? Until the word “tomcat,” I was paranoid that she meant Rune-the-human and not Rune-the-cat. The shock must have registered on my face because Hazel was quick to ask her next question.

  “Who did you think I meant?” One of her eyebrows rose into her forehead.

  I forced a giggle. “The cat, of course. It’s still a shock to realize I’ve gone from being a widow living alone to crazy cat lady in less than twenty-four hours.”

  “I bet. You poor thing, having to deal with all this business with the Livingston mansion. Once the situation wraps up, we should plan a spa day. It can be your birthday gift! We can get mani-pedis and buy new purses.”

  Before I could respond, a feminine voice called, “There you girls are. I wondered if you had a change of heart about working with my sweet boy.”

  We continued following the path until Elizabeth Sparrows came into view. Parked in a patio chair near the rear of the brewery, the woman held a knitting project in her lap.

  “Of course not! Tori adopted a cat yesterday, and the little fella is still settling in,” Hazel explained as if taking a cue from an orange-striped, overweight tabby batting at the frayed edge of a loose section of yarn brushing against the dew-covered grass.

  Way to throw me under the bus, Hazel, I thought. Aloud, I took the blame with as much grace as possible. “That’s me. Cooper’s Cove’s newest crazy cat lady.”

  “There’s nothing crazy about having a cat, dear. If you recall, I have sixteen.” Mrs. Sparrows flashed me a knowing grin.

  Oh boy, how could I forget it? Mrs. Sparrows was one of my and Hazel’s first clients. The stench of the older woman’s furry friends, coupled with too few litter boxes, was putrid enough. The woman lived amidst a hoarding situation in a one-bedroom cottage, however. The memory stayed with me, and I had doubted that it would fade anytime soon. Having a pet was great. Hoarding pets without the means to care for them was terrible for everyone, most of all for the animals. Fortunately, after buying the orchard, Asher and Thom convinced her to relocate the bulk of the cats to a smaller barn behind the brewery where they kept the mice population to a minimum.

  “How are they enjoying their new life in the barn?” I forced a smile, hoping to further distract her from our delay in arriving.

  “The cats love living here. There’s so much space, and I have my horticulture projects in the barn. It’s nice having so many of them nearby while I work.” As she spoke, she finished knitting the row on her project and started a new one. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like the same thing she was knitting back when we cleaned out her home.

  “That’s awesome. Speaking of work, Tori and I s
hould get started now.” Hazel nudged my elbow with hers and tilted her head towards the shed.

  I smiled at the older woman. “Nice talking to you.”

  “The shed’s already unlocked and waiting,” she called after us. “And remember, your work is limited to the sheds alone. If we need your help elsewhere, Asher or Thom will tell you. I’m going to work on my recipes in the brewery kitchen, and you can find me there if you need anything.”

  Chapter 23

  Following Hazel along the path to the sheds, I accessed the inventory software on the iPad. Giddiness surged through me. I always planned to buy one of the tablets, as it was more convenient than lugging my laptop around, so this was a wish come true. Kind of like Rune, a little voice nagged at the back of my mind.

  Out of nowhere, the memory of taking the bottle popped into my mind. As much as I hated to admit it, the enjoyment of the past twenty-four hours--Had it only been a day?--outweighed the guilt over my petty theft. Removing the bottle from Christine Livingston’s home was worth the adventure. After all, if Rune were a serial killer, he probably would have killed me in my sleep last night. I mean, that’s what I’d have done if I was a murderer. The image of Christine Livingston’s bedroom came to mind. Is that what happened to her?

  “Tori, are you okay?” Hazel asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “I’m all right, thanks. Just overthinking yesterday’s chain of events.” It was as honest as I could be at the moment.

  “Hey, I get it. I’m having a tough time, too. If we need to go see someone, we can do that.”

  “See someone?”

  “A professional. We could talk it out, get in touch with our emotions, those kinds of things.”

  “Thanks, girlfriend. I’ll tell you if it gets to that point.” Pushing the thoughts aside, I concentrated on the job at hand. The door stood open, and the contents appeared untouched from the previous day.

  “It looks like they’re using it to store horticulture products along with the items from the previous homeowners.” Hazel set the plastic jugs outside of the shed, using one to prop the door open. “But if these are gardening products, why wouldn’t they leave them in the barn?”