"There's a flatscreen in the front living room but Aunt Edie definitely didn't have any electronic tablets. She never felt comfortable using a laptop so she wrote all the reservations down in a big book when she ran the house as an inn."
"Did you bring any electronics with you?"
"Yes, but my laptop and other things are all upstairs in my room, right where I slept."
"What about things like silverware? Candelabras? Silver photo frames?"
"Aunt Edie collected a lot of things but I couldn't tell you if any of them were valuable, and even if something were stolen, I doubt I'd even know it was missing."
"Okay, well, if you later discover anything is gone, please give me a call." Detective Logan handed me his card and I tucked it into my jeans pocket. "I and Officer Ortiz will remain here for the morning and you’ll probably see a few other people who will come by too. It's probably best if you confine your movements to the front of the house and I'll be sure to let you know as soon as we're finished."
"Thank you."
He stepped towards the doors then turned back to me, "So, are you just moving in now?"
"Temporarily," I said, nodding.
"Not permanently?"
"I'm not planning to stay long. I only came here to fix it up and put it on the market."
Detective Logan's eyes widened. "You're kidding?"
"No. Why would I be kidding?"
"I just can't imagine anyone giving up a house like this. They hardly ever come onto the market before they’re snapped up like fresh popcorn."
"Logan!"
"I'll come find you after we're done," he said as he stepped outside, careful to avoid the dusted prints on the handle when he pushed the door closed.
He was right about not staying in the kitchen. If someone did break in last night, I couldn't clean up until Detective Logan finished inspecting the crime scene. I knew what he needed to do, and I couldn't wash the moldy kitchenware either since the window overlooked the veranda. Now that there was a dead body on it, I doubted I could ever look at it again without thinking of that.
A dead body!
For the first time that morning, my heartbeat quickened and my breath came in short, sharp intakes. This was no time for a panic attack! The one and only time I had one before was when I became the unfortunate victim of a mugging. It happened at midnight on a Saturday night as I walked toward a taxi. The sound of a gun being cocked in my ear and the masked face have managed to stay foremost in my mind ever since that night. I was so scared, I almost fainted from the fear. I had no plans to repeat that experience ever again.
I hurried out of the kitchen and headed to the front of the house, moving into the living room. The flatscreen television was still there, but as I looked around, I was at a loss to see what else there was to steal. Not unless the robber had an insatiable desire for Edie's garish collection of throw pillows. They were all scattered across the big couches, however, so I knew it couldn’t be that.
Perhaps it was a random burglary like Detective Logan suggested? A transient grifter casing the town and spotting an abandoned house falling derelict. Perhaps he decided it was worth a look around. The few burglaries that happened in Calendar were usually in town, although not many. The local criminals must have known the notorious Edie Swanson house and that the Inn had been empty for many years. What if someone thought there was some petty cash hidden somewhere from the old days of the inn? Or were they looking for somewhere quiet to lie low? No, Detective Logan quite rightly pointed out that there had to be more than one person. So where was the killer and why did he or she shoot their partner in crime? I hadn't heard anyone arguing; much less, a gunshot although I was asleep at the other end of the house. I recalled all kinds of strange noises throughout the night.
Someone knocking at the front door pulled me out of my thoughts. I went over to answer it, expecting to see the medical examiner, but instead, I found my parents standing at the door with lines of worry etched across both of their faces.
"The neighbors called and said there were two police cars out front," said my mom, grabbing me and turning me around. She was checking me for wounds like any good mother. When she was satisfied I was unhurt, she stopped pawing me but continued to grip my arms. "What happened? Did you do something awful?"
"I found a dead body on the veranda," I said bluntly.
Dad edged Mom out of the way. "Ha ha, that sounded like you said you found a dead body on the veranda."
"That's exactly what I said," I replied, nodding.
"What? Well, who is it? Did you have someone over last night?"
"I have no idea who it is, and no! I didn't have anyone over! Well, except for Nate."
"Oh, my God, it's Nate!" wailed Mom, her face crumpling.
"It's not Nate, Mom. I don't know who it is. I found him this morning when I came downstairs to start cleaning."
"Did he have a heart attack or something? I didn't see an ambulance. Did they take him away already?" asked Dad.
"No, he's still over there. He was shot in the head."
"Shot?" yelled both my parents in disbelief. I ushered them inside before Detective Logan came around the front and arrested them for disturbing a crime investigation. I was pretty sure once all my neighbors were awake, there would be no more peace. Everyone would have to know why the two police cars were parked at the curb and once they found out, the Calendar phone tree would start buzzing. By noon, the whole town would know that a dead man was found on my veranda. I wasn't particularly worried about the gossip so much as the subsequent plummeting of my potential sale price. Who would want to live in a place where someone was found murdered?
"We should call Tammy and tell her not to come," Mom said to Dad. "She can't bring the kids here. They could be traumatized for life."
"Good plan," I agreed. "Tell Tammy not to come. At least, not for two weeks."
Mom narrowed her eyes as she pulled out her phone and started tapping it. Before she could finish, she walked right through a gigantic spider web and dropped to the floor, screaming. Dad hastily tried to help her up, but Mom kept batting her arms around, and kicking her legs wildly. She rolled onto her back to go under the dusty web, thereby preventing Dad from helping her. A new scream was audible and I realized it came from the phone.
While my parents battled with the gossamer, sticky strands, I grabbed the cellphone. "Hello?"
"Why is my Mom screaming? What’s happening over there? Is she dying?" yelled Tammy. "Who is this?"
"It's Vanessa."
"Why is Mom screaming? What did you do?"
"She walked right into a spider web at Aunt Edie's house. Now she's flailing around like the spider is attacking her."
"Ugh," said Tammy. I could imagine her rolling her eyes. "I hope you clean that up before we get there. I just had my hair styled yesterday. No way do I want a dusty, old spider web getting caught in it."
"It's probably better if you don't come today. Something happened."
"What happened?"
"Can I call you back?" I asked as Detective Logan ran into the hallway, his gun drawn. I couldn't wait for my sister to answer and I hung up.
"What's all the screaming about?" he asked, assessing the scene quickly. Mom stopped thrashing and allowed my dad to help her into an upright sitting position. Dad offered her his hand and tugged her to her feet.
"Spider webs," I told him, trying not to sigh.
"You sure?"
"Is there really a dead man outside?" asked Dad.
"Yes, sir," said Detective Logan. "And you are?"
"Gus Wright. This is my wife, Michelle. We're Vanessa's parents."
"I'll leave Vanessa to fill you in until I get back. If you could keep the screaming down to a minimum, I'd sure appreciate it," he added as he holstered his weapon. He gave me a pointed look and stalked back to the kitchen.
"Detective Logan is often called grumpy for a reason," muttered Mom. She dusted off her arms and legs. "This house is just filthy!"
<
br /> "Yeah, about that." I turned to face her. "You told me it needed a little painting! The whole house is a dump! Everywhere is filthy with dust and I mean everywhere. It's like no one walked in here since Aunt Edie left."
"No one has," said Mom.
"I made a list of things that need to be done but now I hate to think what I might uncover. There's no way I can get this place on the market in a few weeks."
"Why don't you call Nate? He's very busy with his construction firm but I'm sure he'll make time to help you. It's so nice to hear that he already came by to see you. I don't know why you two didn't stay best friends!" said Mom.
"I think cleaning this place up is the least of your worries right now," said Dad. He thumbed in the direction of the kitchen. "Dead bodies aren’t good features when it comes to selling property."
"I wasn't planning to include him with the deed!"
"Everyone will start to call this the corpse house," said Mom.
I dropped my face into my hands. "I plan to get this place all cleaned up and sold before the news even has time to sink in," I told them. "And I am absolutely not calling Nate Minoso or asking for his help. I don't want to see him at all!"
"That's a shame," said Nate, his voice uncomfortably close behind me. I heard a trace of disappointment lacing his words. "I'm already here but if you prefer, I'll just go away and mind my own damn business."
Chapter Five
My parents insisted on staying all morning, even after Nate turned on his heel and stormed off. Not that there was anything for them to do. Detective Logan had given explicit orders not to clean anything until he and his team were finished in the kitchen. I surmised my father wanted to hang around just so he could watch the police work since a murder was an unusual event in Calendar. Unfortunately, that meant Mom needed to be convinced that the house was still safe to stay in or she would insist I move into my childhood bedroom immediately.
I was sure Nate would have plenty to say to say about the dead man. He took one harsh look at me and told me I obviously wasn’t injured before he walked out of the house without giving me a chance to apologize. I could kick myself for my poor choice of words. I hurt his feelings. Yes, it was true I didn't want to see him but I didn't want to hurt him either. It wasn't because I disliked him either. I just didn't want to deal with the fallout from our run-in when I left town years before. I was fine not dealing with it, and had been for the last nine years.
"We're done," said Detective Logan. He appeared in the doorway looking tired.
"You're done?" yelled Mom. She jumped up from where she perched on the edge of the couch in the formal sitting room. "What about my daughter?"
"She's not under arrest."
Mom reached for me, her eyes wide. "You were going to arrest her? Honey, he was going to arrest you!"
"I never had any plans to arrest your daughter, ma'am," said Detective Logan. He sounded resigned to the probability he would hear endless tongues gossiping about the non-fact, and he appeared ready to explain himself multiple times if necessary.
"You know for a fact she didn't do it?" asked Mom.
"Yes, ma'am. all indications point that way. So far, Mrs. Wright..."
"Miss Wright," interjected Mom with a pointed look at me. "Vanessa is single."
"Okay," said Detective Logan slowly while I quietly died a thousand deaths inside. "Miss Wright discovered the body but she doesn't appear to have any other connection to the victim or the circumstances at this time. It occurred on her property and that’s about it. The M.E. took the body away a few minutes ago and we'll continue our work on establishing an identity as well as how the deceased ended up here, at this house. I'll be back to ask a few more questions in the next day or two so please don't leave town."
"Don’t worry, I'll be here," I told him.
"What do you mean 'at this time'?" asked Mom. "Are you accusing my daughter of a crime?"
"No, ma'am."
"She's smart, educated, beautiful, and single, and just recently, she became a home owner. She's certainly not a murderer!"
"I'll be in touch," said Detective Logan. He nodded to me as he left by the front door rather than walking all the way around the back.
"Mom, what was that all about?" I asked without masking the irritation I felt.
"Don't mind your mom, she's just looking out for you," said Dad. He tucked an arm around my shoulders and pulled me against him in a warm squeeze.
"She tried to set me up with the detective."
"He's single too," said Mom. "You're single. It only makes sense."
"No, it doesn't! Besides, I'm not staying in town. I didn’t come back here to date. I'm only here to fix Edie’s house up."
"You should ask Nate to help you with that," said Dad. "He is the best."
"Knock knock," cooed a voice from the door. "Anyone home?"
I ducked out from under my father's arm and jogged over to the door. Framed inside it were the Petersons, a family who lived next door for as long as I could remember. With them was my old friend, Tia, and she looked as lithe, healthy and athletic as I remembered her. "Vanessa," she shrieked on seeing me. She hastily nudged past her parents, grinning as she hugged me. "Is it really you?"
"In the flesh," I replied, hugging her back.
"I can't believe it. It's been too long. We heard you inherited Edie’s house but I didn't think you'd come back and live here. We need to catch up; it’s been too many years. I can't wait to hear all about everything!"
"Absolutely... Wait. What are you doing here?" The last time I heard from Tia Peterson, she was in Vermont, working as a ski instructor for the rich and famous.
"I meant to email you and tell you that I came home just about a month ago. I'm working at March's Outdoors and Camping Supplies, thanks to Melissa. She introduced me to her father-in-law, who owns it. So I'll be there for the summer and then I'm taking up another job as a ski instructor right here in Calendar. I'm living with Mom and Dad next door for now," explained Tia.
"And we're tickled to have her home," said Mrs. Peterson. Like her daughter, she had a healthy, pink-cheeked face and wide eyes that always looked slightly surprised. But Tia had a pixie crop of dark blond hair while Mrs. Peterson cut hers in a chic bob. The three were tall and imposing and I never met a more warm-hearted family than the Petersons. "We hate to ask, but what are all those police cars doing outside?"
"We got a glimpse of the body," added Mr. Peterson, who was usually content to let his wife and daughter do all the talking.
"Hasn't Detective Logan been around to see you yet?" I asked, ushering them inside. The Petersons' faces quickly reflected their opinions of the house. Tia sniffed and wrinkled her nose before she sneezed. Mrs. Peterson's eyes widened at the thick layer of dust and her husband whistled nervously.
"No way! What happened?" asked Tia.
"Vanessa found a body on the back veranda this morning. He wasn't there last night and no one seems to know who he might be," explained Mom. "Detective Logan was already here."
"He's single, you know," said Mrs. Peterson, leaning in to whisper before casting a look at Tia. Tia rolled her eyes at me and I suppressed a giggle. I was very familiar with our mothers’ intentions of seeing both of us married.
"I know," whispered Mom. "Except that he's friends with Ava March, I don't think I've ever seen him out with a woman."
I cleared my throat and Mom and Mrs. Peterson nodded at each other, which I suspected was their secret communication to further discuss the details later when Tia and I weren't around to spoil their matchmaking fun. "Anyway, this poor man was shot!" continued Mom. "Right between the eyes!"
"No!" gasped Mrs. Peterson. "When was he shot?"
"Detective Logan said it happened sometime between midnight and seven," I told them.
"This is just terrible," said Mr. Peterson. "With all the other murders happening around here lately, anyone might think there's a serial killer on the loose."
"A serial killer?" I asked in uncon
cealed alarm.
"It's all right, honey. There isn't really a serial killer in Calendar. Just a few unreasonable people who resorted to murder instead of diplomacy," said Dad.
"It's no news that a lot of unreasonable people live here in town," said Tia as she looked around. "Why is this place so dusty? I had a fight with a blackberry bush just to get on the path. Do you know those things have almost taken over the entire front yard? They're out of control! Edie used to be so proud she had the most colorful and nicely manicured yard on the whole street."
"We wondered when someone would finally tackle it. You are planning to do that, aren't you, Vanessa?" Mrs. Peterson loomed in front of me, her eyebrows rising in expectation.
"Yes, I am," I told them. "And I'm sorry the house and the yard are such disasters. I’ll begin cleaning today and I’ll get the yard taken care of as soon as I can. You won't recognize it next time."
"I don't recognize it now," said Mr. Peterson dryly. "Is that Detective Logan outside? I'm going to talk to him and see what he makes of this business. Great to have you home again, Vanessa!" He clapped my father on the back and kissed my mom's cheek as he waved before he left.
"Really great to have you home," added Mrs. Peterson. "I better keep him from grilling the detective. He takes so much interest in solving crimes lately."
I called after her as she left, "I'm not really home. I'm not staying long," I added in a lower voice as I watched Mrs. Peterson navigating the path. She was dodging the thorny blackberry bushes on her way to join her husband and the detective.
"You're going to clean this place up all by yourself?" Tia asked as soon as my dad left. He announced he had to double check the backyard and my mother insisted on accompanying him in case he vanished, got murdered, or both. I shook my head when they left, glad they were finally leaving us both alone.
"That's the plan," I replied. "But I never expected to find this much work. I cleaned one bedroom last night just so I could sleep in it. I woke up filthy even after I cleaned it. The entire house needs to be sanitized. I don't think anyone has been inside it since Aunt Edie left."
Alibi in April (Calendar Mysteries Book 4) Page 4
