by Sofie Ryan
I nodded. “She has a lump on her head and a couple of scrapes on her arm, but otherwise she’s okay. If she had her way she’d already be out of the hospital.” My chest tightened unexpectedly and I had to stop and swallow before I could continue. “Rose is”—I made a gesture in the air—“like family. Thank you for everything you did for her.”
Ashley smiled and the hand on the dog’s head stroked his black fur. “I’m just glad we were here.”
I gestured at the big Lab. “May I?” I said.
She nodded. “Say hello, Casey,” she said to the dog.
I leaned forward and held out my hand, fingers curled into a loose fist. He sniffed it for a moment and then took a couple of steps closer to me, his tail wagging like a flag waving in a stiff breeze. “Hey, Casey,” I said softly. “Thanks for taking care of my friend Rose.”
His big brown eyes seemed to smile at me, and he nuzzled my wrist with his cold, wet nose. I scratched the top of his head.
Michelle was already running Ashley through finding Rose.
“I was in the backyard watering my tomato plants,” she said. She gave a self-conscious laugh. “It probably sounds silly, but I knew by Casey’s bark that something was wrong. He doesn’t bark that much anyway, and it wasn’t his ‘Hey, play with me’ bark or even ‘The mailman is here with a dog biscuit’ bark.”
I thought about Elvis’s ability to seemingly know when someone was lying. “I don’t think it’s silly,” I said.
Casey cocked his head to one side and looked at me, almost as if he were trying to show his appreciation for my vote of confidence—or suggesting that I scratch behind his right ear.
“I came around the side of the house and saw Casey over there by that tree standing next to Mrs. Jackson,” Ashley continued. “I yelled to Keenan—that’s my husband; I’m sorry, he isn’t here right now—to call nine one one and then ran over to her. I thought maybe she’d been walking and got hit by a car.”
“Did you hear or see anything before the dog started barking?” Michelle asked.
Ashley frowned and shook her head slowly. “That’s the thing,” she said. “I didn’t. I don’t remember hearing any cars go by. There were no squealing brakes from someone stopping too fast and I didn’t hear anything that sounded like a car hitting . . . her.”
That seemed to support Rose’s story. I looked over at Michelle but couldn’t catch her eye.
Ashley took a couple of steps forward and pointed down the road in the direction of the Camerons’ cottage. “The only car I saw or heard, aside from the police and the EMTs, was the Camerons’ Jeep—his car; she drives an Audi—and that went by about half an hour before, when we were barbecuing. It’s really hard to miss. It’s Big Bird yellow.”
Michelle asked about the neighbors in the pale blue cottage next door. Ashley explained that they were out of town for the week.
I straightened up, giving Casey one last scratch on the head. He looked up at me and then went to sit next to his owner again. “Thank you,” I said, reaching out to give her arm a squeeze. “I don’t like to think about what could have happened to Rose if you and your husband and Casey hadn’t been here.” The dog lifted his chin and looked up at Ashley as if he wanted to make sure she’d heard the words of praise for him, too.
She smiled at me. “I think she would have been okay. She seems to be pretty feisty.”
I laughed. “That she is.”
Michelle had a few more routine questions; then she gave Ashley her card in case her husband thought of anything he wanted to add and we started back to our cars. I knew from those questions that she didn’t believe Rose’s story.
“Are you going back to the hospital?” she asked as we came level with her dark blue Honda.
I nodded. “I’m hoping Rose will be ready to come home.” I folded my arms across my midsection. “What happens now?” I asked.
She fished her keys out of the pocket of her gray skirt. “I’ll keep trying to contact Jeff Cameron and I’ll verify that investment statement is the real thing in the morning. I’ll talk to the assistant as well. Beyond that, Mr. Cameron is an adult. If he wants to walk away from his marriage, there’s no law that says he can’t.”
“You think he’s alive.”
She sighed softly. “I haven’t seen or heard anything that makes me believe he’s dead.”
I didn’t say anything.
Michelle looked over at the house. “C’mon, Sarah,” she said, shifting her gaze back to me. “You were in that kitchen. Did you see anything that would indicate a man had been killed there? There was no blood, no evidence of a fight or a struggle. I didn’t smell bleach or vanilla-scented candles or anything that suggested someone had cleaned up a crime scene.”
“That was one room,” I pointed out. “And if he’d been hit over the head there wouldn’t necessarily be anything to clean up.”
Michelle narrowed her green eyes and studied my face. “You actually think Rose saw Leesa Cameron dragging her husband’s body across the floor of that kitchen? Really, Sarah?”
I folded one arm over the top of my head like I was pulling up a hood. “I think she saw something. I won’t go so far as to say that Leesa Cameron killed her husband, but I think it’s a pretty big coincidence that he ran off with all their money and another woman the same night that Rose saw his body being dragged across the floor.”
“Sometimes coincidences happen. You heard what Ashley Clark said about seeing his Jeep go by before the dog found Rose.”
“It doesn’t mean he was driving it,” I said.
Michelle took a moment, as though she was sifting through her words before she spoke. “I think Rose believes she saw what she told you she saw,” she said. “But I think she may have had a small stroke, wandered up the road and then fell and hit her head, knocking herself out. Maybe what she thinks she saw was just her brain trying to make sense of the gap in time, putting pieces together maybe from a movie she watched or a book she was reading.” She touched my arm briefly. “I know how stubborn Rose can be. But I really think you should have her examined by a specialist.”
I bit the inside of my cheek so I wouldn’t say the wrong thing. Thankfully Michelle’s phone buzzed then. She pulled it out, checked the screen and then looked at me again.
I made myself smile at her. “Thank you for coming out here with me,” I said. “I should get back to the hospital and check on Rose.”
“Anytime,” Michelle said. She gave me a hug and I walked back to my SUV. Michelle got in her own car and I waved as she drove away.
I didn’t agree with her. I didn’t believe that Rose had had a small stroke and imagined seeing Jeff Cameron’s body being dragged across the kitchen floor of that cottage by some mystery person dressed in a pink hoodie. It was less than a month ago that there had been a seniors’ health clinic at Legacy Place, the former chocolate factory where Rose had lived before she was “invited” to move and took the third apartment in my house.
Charlotte had been one of the volunteers at the clinic, which had been held in the main entrance of the building Rose still snarkily referred to as Shady Pines. Rose had gone with me to help Charlotte get set up and, she admitted, to catch up on all the gossip. I’d dragged her around for the various tests—Rose did not like doctors. Her blood pressure, pulse and blood sugar had all been lower than mine.
I stuck the key in the ignition and took one last look at the cottage. “I really am turning into Rose,” I said aloud. I couldn’t explain it, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had happened in that little house. The question was, what?
Chapter 5
My cell phone rang then. It was Charlotte. The hospital was ready to discharge Rose.
“I want her to come home with me, but she won’t have any of that,” Charlotte said. “She wants to go home to her own apartment.” Charlotte had a spare room in her litt
le yellow house that Nick had painted and installed new carpet in just a couple of months ago.
Rose’s unwillingness to stay with Charlotte didn’t surprise me.
“We’ll take her home,” I said. “If we have to, you and I and Mr. P. can take turns on guard duty all night.”
Charlotte laughed and I told her I’d be there in about fifteen minutes and ended the call.
Rose wanted to know what had happened to Jeff Cameron and she wasn’t going to rest until she got some answers. She wasn’t going to like the answers I had so far. That persistent streak was what had gotten her involved when Maddie Hamilton had been accused of murder. And it turned out she had a bit of a knack for ferreting out clues, probably because she looked—and baked—like someone’s sweet little grandmother and people just seemed to confide in her. Or maybe it was the cookies. It also helped that Mr. P. had all the computer expertise of a teenage hacking genius. Add to that the fact that Liz knew every bit of gossip going around town and Charlotte, after years of being a school principal, knew pretty much everyone in North Harbor, so it didn’t seem completely crazy that they’d decided to start their own detective agency.
Of course, Nick wasn’t happy about his mother and her friends investigating anything. I could still see the look on his face when he learned that Alfred had met all the requirements to get his PI’s license and Rose had begun an apprenticeship with him.
I knew Rose wasn’t going to let this go. I hadn’t totally been joking when I’d told Charlotte we might have to guard the door to keep Rose from going out to investigate.
Mr. P. was watching for me when I pulled up to the emergency room doors. He raised a hand and I waved back to let him know I’d seen him. I came around the front of the SUV and opened the door for Rose. Charlotte was on one side of her and Mr. P. was on the other. She looked well. She’d combed her hair, her color was good and she seemed to be moving without pain. And she didn’t like Charlotte and Mr. P. hovering. Her lips were pressed together in a tight smile.
“Where are we going, Sarah?” she asked as she reached the SUV.
“Home,” I said.
“Whose?” Her gray eyes were fixed on my face.
“Yours and mine,” I said.
She nodded. “Fine.”
Alfred had already gotten in the back. Charlotte hesitated. “I wish she’d just come with me,” she said quietly.
“I know,” I said, putting an arm around her. In flats she was taller than I was. Since I was wearing a bit of a heel, we were the same size. “And if you suggest that, I’m almost certain Rose will jump out at the first stoplight we hit. And you’ll be the one chasing her, because Alfred’s knees aren’t good and I’m not running in these things.” I stuck out one leg so she could see my pretty wedge sandals.
Charlotte laughed and shook her head. Then she slid in next to Mr. P. I hurried around the back of the SUV and got behind the wheel again. Mr. P. touched my shoulder. “Sarah, you’re in a no-parking zone,” he said.
I leaned forward to look out the windshield. The no-parking sign was right in front of me. “I didn’t even see that,” I said. I’d been so focused on getting as close to the door as possible that there could have been a bear standing there holding the sign and I still wouldn’t have noticed it.
“So put the pedal to the metal before someone sees you,” Rose said from the seat beside me. Her hands were folded in her lap, shoulders squared. My own grandmother would have said she was loaded for bear.
I started the car, drove to the bottom of the lot, paid the parking fee and pulled out onto the street. No one spoke.
I glanced over at Rose again. She hadn’t moved. “I’ll tell you when we get home,” I said.
“I didn’t say anything,” she said.
“You were going to.” I touched the brake as a couple of laughing teenagers cut across the street in front of us.
“You don’t know that,” she retorted.
I took one hand off the steering wheel long enough to tap my temple with two fingers. “I’m very smart.”
“You’re very saucy.”
I smiled but kept my eyes on the road. It was quiet the rest of the way home. I pulled into the driveway and we all piled out of the SUV, Mr. P. hurrying around to help Rose out of her seat.
The moment we stepped into Rose’s apartment, Charlotte held up a hand. “No detective work until the tea’s made.” She looked pointedly at Rose.
“Fine with me,” Rose said. “There are chocolate chip cookies in the blue tin.” She started for the cupboard but Charlotte stopped her with a look.
“Sit,” she said, making a shooing gesture with one hand. She had several inches on her friend, along with the bearing and tone of voice that went along with being a former school principal. Rose stood her ground for a moment and then took a seat at the table.
Once everyone had a cup of hot tea and a cookie, Rose turned to me. “You didn’t talk to Jeff Cameron, did you?”
I shook my head. “No, we didn’t.”
“I knew it,” she said, nodding for emphasis. “If you had, you would have said so the moment you picked us up.”
She was right. That’s exactly what I would have done.
“Did you talk to his wife?” Mr. P. asked, breaking a cookie in half and dipping the end of it in his tea.
“I did,” I said. “She claims he left her for another woman and cleaned out their accounts.”
Rose set her cup down. “You don’t believe that, do you, Sarah?” The skepticism in her voice made it clear what she thought.
I took a bite of my cookie to buy a little time before I answered. “I don’t know,” I said, finally. “It seems like an awfully convenient coincidence.”
“Coincidences do happen,” Charlotte said.
I nodded. “I know. And Leesa Cameron did show us—well, Michelle—the text she got from her husband and a bank statement that showed their investment account had been emptied.”
“Those things can easily be faked.” Rose glanced over at Mr. P., who nodded in confirmation.
“Michelle is going to check with the bank in the morning. Leesa also told us that her husband had an assistant, Chloe Sanders. She’s also going to talk to her.”
“I had a Chloe Sanders as a student,” Charlotte said. “She was on the debate team. Do you think it could be the same person?”
“Maybe,” I said. “I know she went to Cahill.”
“That sounds right,” she said.
I rattled off the phone number I’d memorized when Leesa Cameron had showed it to Michelle. “Will you see if you can contact her in the morning? Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
Charlotte nodded. “Of course.”
“You’re a pretty good judge of people, Sarah,” Alfred said. “What’s your impression of Mrs. Cameron?”
I sighed and played with my cup, turning it around and around in the saucer. “She seemed genuinely hurt and angry,” I said. “If she was lying, she’s a darn good actress. And it looks like she has an alibi. She said she was with her husband’s sister.”
Beside me Rose made a frustrated sound.
“I saw Casey, by the way,” I said. “He’s a beautiful dog.”
She smiled at that. “Yes, he is. Tomorrow I’m going to make him some dog biscuits.”
“For what it’s worth, Ashley Clark said she didn’t hear or see any cars go by right before the dog found you.”
“That’s because I wasn’t hit by a car,” Rose said. “If I had been, I’d have broken ribs or at least bruises on this part of my body.” She patted her midsection with one hand. I didn’t know anything about injuries from being hit by a car, but it made sense to me.
“There is one problem, though,” I continued. “Ashley says she saw Jeff Cameron’s vehicle go by about half an hour before Casey found you.”
Rose drank the last
of her tea. She made a move to get up, but Charlotte immediately got to her feet and headed for the cozy-covered teapot on the stove. She poured a fresh cup for Rose and topped up her own. Mr. P. and I both shook our heads to more.
“Thank you, Charlotte,” Rose said, reaching for the milk jug. “Did Ashley say Jeff Cameron was driving?” she asked.
I reached for another cookie. “No.”
“It doesn’t prove anything, then,” Charlotte said. “It could have been Mr. Cameron who was driving or it could have been someone else entirely.”
“So Detective Andrews will start investigating tomorrow?” Rose said. She added sugar to her tea and stirred. It seemed like an innocuous question, but I had a feeling Rose already knew the answer.
“Like I said, she’s going to check with the bank.”
“And?”
I pushed my cup back and shifted in the chair to face her. “And you already know the answer to that, Rose. The police aren’t starting any investigation. They don’t think there’s anything to investigate. As far as they’re concerned, Jeff Cameron left his wife and left town.”
Rose’s lips pulled into a thin, tight line. “So how does Detective Andrews explain what happened to me? What does she think happened? I hit myself over the head?”
I’d let myself get backed into this corner. There was no way out except to tell Rose what Michelle had said. I put both hands flat on the table and closed my eyes for a moment. It didn’t change anything.
“Michelle thinks that you might have had a small stroke and fallen and hit your head. You were dazed and you got as far as the Clarks’ house before you passed out. She . . . uh . . . thinks you should see a specialist.”
“What a load of balderdash!” Rose exclaimed, gray eyes flashing. “She thinks I’m some feeble old fuddy-duddy, doesn’t she?”
“She didn’t say that. I think she’s genuinely concerned about you.”
