by Krista Davis
Macon pulled up a chair for me. I joined them and told them briefly about the little prank Zelda and I had played on Hank.
“You have to be so careful these days.” Nessie sipped what I thought to be a mint julep, judging from the garnish.
“That’s why Sky and I are here. To make sure our girls don’t get tangled with the wrong men.”
Sky tapped her fingers on the table. “Even though I’m here to protect Maddie, she won’t listen. Why can’t she see that she’s going about this all wrong by lying to this young man?”
“What happened with her old boyfriend, Kyle? You never did tell me.” Nessie sounded like she could hardly contain herself.
“He seemed like such a nice young man. He was polite and good-looking. I thought the world of him. And then he started hitting us up for money. It became painfully clear that he was more interested in the bank of Stevens than in Maddie. She was devastated.”
“That’s so sad. You’d think he would have targeted someone with more money.” Nessie drained her drink. “I have to worry about that. Divorce can cost a bundle. Sky, you tried to tell Maddie to be herself. I hope she listens to you.”
Macon patted Sky’s hand. “I set her up with the right guy. Trust me on this.” He frowned at me. “Where’s John Adele? I hope you’re meetin’ him here.”
“Sorry, Macon. In spite of you, Trixie, and Oma, I don’t believe that match is going to take.” Part of me was sorry to admit that. I wasn’t going to weep about it, but I had been surprised and disappointed to detect John’s clear disinterest when I phoned him.
Macon lifted his forefinger and shook it. “I don’t believe that. I was there with you two last night, and I know sparks when I see them. I’ll have a talk with that young man.”
“That’s very kind of you, but you also matched him to Maddie Stevens. Maybe that match will work out after all.”
“Not a chance. That was to prove to them that my original matches were correct. Do you really think I’m so stupid that I would mismatch people like that?”
Sky’s mouth dropped open. “Why, you rascal. You’re like a puppet master pulling all our strings.”
Macon grinned with pleasure. “Honey, I’m good at what I do. Don’t ever doubt Macon.”
That simple sentence, which I was certain was nothing more than puffery, sent chills up my arms. Randall hadn’t just doubted Macon. He had belittled and insulted him publicly. Had he paid for that with his life?
“So did you set up Maddie with that young man she likes?” asked Sky. “Or was it just a coincidence that they met?”
“Of course I did. They’re perfect for each other.”
“Not the artist?” Nessie turned up her nose.
“There’s much more to making a good match than careers, Nessie,” Macon said.
Sky appeared doubtful. “What happened to good old-fashioned meeting someone and having that marvelous feeling about him?”
“Why, nothin’, Sky. That’s still what happens. I just steer the right people toward each other so they don’t waste a lot of time on the wrong ones. Look around here.” Macon gestured with a wide sweep of his hand. “I can tell which couples are going to work out. The big problem for me is when people lie—when they’re too ashamed to admit the truth about themselves, and they fill out my questionnaires incorrectly. Then I can’t do my job.”
“You mean like where their dog or cat sleeps?” I asked.
“That’s an excellent example. A woman who thinks the cat or dog should sleep in the garage will end up fightin’ with a partner who allows the animals to sleep on the bed. It might not seem like an earthshaking thing, but it goes to fundamental differences. Trust me when I say that won’t be the only thing they disagree on.”
“Macon, I hate to hurt your feelings, but you were terribly wrong about my Celeste and that musician. They would never have worked out. You have to see how happy she is with the doctor I matched her up to.” Nessie pulled out her phone and her face contorted. “Oh no! Someone tried to snatch Celeste’s purse. The doctor punched him out! Look at this.”
She held the phone out to Macon.
“Is she okay?” Macon reached for it leisurely, but when he looked at the photo, his demeanor changed. “Celeste is a beautiful girl, Nessie. You must be very proud of her.”
He handed me the phone, but I caught the concern in his eyes. I took one look and my heart sank. I knew the man with his arms around Celeste. I recognized the cunning grin and cagey eyes. “That’s no doctor. That’s Zelda’s good-for-nothing ex-husband.”
Nessie scooted her chair back so fast that she nearly toppled over. “That is not amusing.”
“But it’s true. Zelda is sitting right over there. You can ask her.”
Nessie hurried over to Zelda with Lulu at her heels. I watched as Nessie showed Zelda the photo.
When Nessie returned, her lips were bunched tight in anger. “I’m putting a stop to this right away. Imagine my baby in the hands of that man. I don’t care if he did defend her from a purse snatcher.” She slapped money on the table. “Sky, you coming with me?”
Sky rose from her seat and added money to the pile. “Sure.”
Nessie was already marching toward the door.
“Good night,” said Sky. She and Duchess caught up to Nessie and Lulu. We heard Sky ask, “What are you going to do?”
“You knew Nessie changed your matches?” I asked.
Macon shook his head and tsked. “She came right out and told me. Said she was a better matchmaker than I. One presumes she might be reconsidering that just about now. Mama Nessie should not have butted in. I would never have matched an innocent young woman like Celeste to a man ten years her senior, and a con artist at that.”
“How did you know he was a con artist?” I asked. “He’s the kind of guy a lot of women find attractive.”
Macon appeared surprised by my question. “I have met some very handsome doctors. But not one of them has ever filled out his or her occupation as doctor. They always write their specialties. You know, cardiologist, radiologist, podiatrist, dentist. In my experience, only the pretend doctors fill in the form with the word doctor.”
I smiled at him. Maybe Macon really did know his stuff.
It was surely getting close to midnight, and I had had a long day on not much sleep. I bid Macon a good night, called Trixie, and walked home to the inn.
Casey greeted us when we entered through the front door.
Twinkletoes dashed by me dragging a blue cloth adorned with white paw prints that did not look like a cat toy. Marmalade was right behind her, grabbing for it with his claws.
“Hey, you two!” I started after them, but they were too quick for me.
“Casey! Have you been letting them tear that?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“It looks like a scarf.”
He shrugged. “It has paw prints on it. I thought it was some kind of cat toy. They’ve been having a lot of fun with it.”
I made sure the other doors around the inn were locked and trudged up to my apartment. When I opened the door, Huey greeted us, his tail wagging like we were long-lost friends. Twinkletoes and Marmalade must have come up through the pet doors because they sat very innocently on the hearth. But I spied the scarf in my dining room and picked it up.
Beat as I was, I stopped in the kitchen to feed the cats. “Salmon?” I asked. “It’s very trendy and popular in fancy restaurants.” From the way they snarfed it, I assumed I had made a good choice.
Huey watched them with a tiny bit of drool edging out of his mouth. Trixie eyed the cats enviously. I dug into the dog cookie jar and found two crunchy cookies in the shape of dog bones. I handed Huey the large one and Trixie a small one.
When the cats finished, I let the dogs lick their bowls, then washed them. I tiptoed to the guest room and peeked in. Ben
snored as though he’d been asleep for quite a while.
* * *
On Saturday morning, I stretched, opened my eyes, and realized that not a single cat or dog lay on my bed. I scrambled into my bathrobe and ran into the living room of my apartment. They weren’t there either. Not again!
I barreled into the guest room. “Ben! Ben!” I shook his shoulder.
“Mmmpf. Whaaat?”
“Did you let the animals out?”
“No.” He flipped over and pulled the pillow onto his head.
I couldn’t believe he had done it again. I ran down the stairs. No sign of the dogs or of Casey.
I heard sounds in the commercial kitchen, though. I pushed the door open.
Shelley and the cook chirped, “Good morning!”
“Morning! Have you seen any dogs or cats walking around?”
They hadn’t seen any of the animals. They didn’t know where Casey was either.
I walked back to the desk in the lobby. “Casey?” I called softly.
I thought I heard something, crossed the room, and flung open the door to Oma’s kitchen. Casey napped in an easy chair, surrounded by Huey, Duchess, Gingersnap, Trixie, and Lulu. Twinkletoes and Marmalade were curled up on the hearth. Not in the chair next to Casey?
The dogs wagged their tails at the sight of me, but none of them bothered to get up. They appeared exhausted.
On a hunch, I left the room and checked the dog and cat food storage room. I couldn’t believe it. The door was wide-open, and they had had another party. How had they done that?
I got out the broom and dustpan and, once again, swept up the kibble mess on the floor. I took the time to make a quick inventory of the bags that had to be replaced.
My frustration with Ben grew as I worked. I knew I had not opened any doors during the night. It had to have been Ben who’d let the dogs out. Why would he do that? Was he sneaking out at night? As I fumed about it, I realized that he might not want to admit it to me if he was slinking out to spend his nights elsewhere. I had seen him in bed, but he could have had a rendezvous after that. A normal person would slip in and out without allowing the dogs and cats to escape, but Ben was inept and not used to animals. Maybe he couldn’t control them.
But how had Gingersnap, Lulu, and Duchess gotten out? I started laughing and bent over double as I realized what must be happening. It was matchmaking week! A whole lot of people were sneaking around at night. No one cared if they didn’t sleep in their own beds—after all, they were adults—but by escaping, the animals were giving away their nocturnal escapades!
Where had Ben been going? To Laura’s room? And which of the snoopy moms was sneaking out—Nessie or Sky? And my own Oma!
I tried to control my laughter. Happily, Mr. Huckle had arrived. I stole a chocolate croissant and a mug of tea and headed upstairs. I didn’t see the point in waking Oma, Nessie, or Sky, because all the dogs were safe. Besides, they all probably needed their sleep. I did close their doors, though.
When I returned in a sleeveless white top, belted red skirt, chunky necklace, and drop earrings, guests were already drinking coffee in the dining area and out on the terrace.
The dogs hadn’t budged from Oma’s kitchen, and they certainly weren’t getting any breakfast after their midnight buffet, so I let them snooze.
Shelley bustled up to me. “Is it true what they’re saying?”
I blinked at her. “About what?”
“About Bob Lane.”
“The pharmacist?”
She tilted her head. “Do you know any other Bob Lanes? Of course I mean the pharmacist. Do you think he murdered that guy Randall?”
“Why would anyone think that?”
Shelley lowered her voice. “Because he slugged Randall.”
“That seems unlikely. Bob is such a mild-mannered man. I can’t imagine him punching anybody.”
“That part is for sure. There were witnesses. The question is whether he killed Randall that night. You’re always in the know. Did he?”
“Obviously, I am woefully behind, because I knew nothing about this.” But I was sure going to find out.
Shelley raised her chin as though she was looking at something behind me. “Ask your grandmother. I’ll be right over with coffee.”
I turned around. Oma and Gustav were taking seats at a table. I wasn’t sure whether I should join them or not, but Oma waved me over.
Before I could sit down, Gustav greeted me with an unenthusiastic good morning, and Oma asked, “Do you have my Gingersnap?”
“She’s fine. The dogs had another party in the pantry last night. They’re all sleeping it off in the private kitchen.”
“I don’t understand. How could she have left my apartment?”
I wasn’t about to embarrass her in front of Gustav. Not to mention that he might have been the one who let Gingersnap slip out. “I don’t know.” It was the truth. I really didn’t know.
“Can you pick up more kibble after breakfast?” asked Oma.
“I already have a list.”
Shelley set a basket of breakfast breads on the table and poured coffee for everyone. “Did you ask about Bob Lane?”
Oma looked at her. “News goes around this town far too fast. Dave just called to tell me that he will be questioning Bob.”
Shelley’s eyebrows raised. “I always thought he was such a nice guy. You can’t trust anybody!”
Poor Gustav. He hadn’t managed to get a word in other than good morning.
“What’s for breakfast, Shelley?”
“Specials today are ham steak with fried eggs and hash browns, Belgian waffles with mixed local berries and cream, and three-egg omelets with mushrooms.”
After we ordered and Shelley was gone, Oma asked Gustav, “How do you feel?”
“I have been better.”
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“The hospital only gave Gustav a few pain pills when they released him. Maybe you could get his prescriptions filled when you pick up the dog food?”
“I would be happy to. Do you have the prescriptions with you, Gustav?”
He pulled two of them out of his pocket and handed me cash. “This is very nice of you, Holly. When I was younger, I would have told myself to work through the pain, but when one is my age, being slammed to the ground takes a toll. I am very stiff and so grateful that your grandmother has loaned me a golf cart to get around. I love to hike, but I’m not sure I can do it without the pills to help my achy bones.”
“Gustav, perhaps we should cancel our hiking plans.”
“No, no, no. After I take the pills, I will be fine.”
When Shelley brought our food, I ate my mushroom omelet quickly. It was still early, but Heal!, the local drugstore, would be open.
I excused myself and dashed upstairs to brush my teeth and grab my purse. On my way out, I stopped by Oma’s private kitchen and poked my head in. “Anybody want to go for a ride?”
Trixie and Gingersnap jumped to their feet. Huey did, too. Duchess and Lulu were already gone, so I assumed Sky and Nessie had found them.
I took a golf cart to transport the heavy bags of kibble to the inn. All four of us sat on the front bench. The dogs lifted their noses into the wind. I wondered what interesting scents they were picking up.
It was a gorgeous, crisp summer morning. Not a cloud marred the stunning blue sky. The electric golf cart made so little sound that I could hear birds chirping in the trees.
I turned the golf cart right on the street where Zelda lived. A few people sat on their front porches with mugs that I assumed contained coffee. They waved at me as we drove by.
And then, without any warning whatsoever, Trixie, who had ridden in the cart like a champ, barked in her frantic tone, scrambled past Gingersnap, leaped off the moving golf cart, and ran like crazy.
<
br /> Gingersnap and Huey bounded out after her.
The day hadn’t started well—and now this. I could see them running through front yards on the right side of the street. I gunned the golf cart, but the dogs dodged behind a house and disappeared.
I pulled over in front of Zelda’s place.
Trixie barked like a crazed dog in the tone that I dreaded so much. It meant something was horribly wrong.
Nineteen
I ran through Zelda’s side yard, screaming, “Zelda!” The grass was still wet with dew, causing my sandals to slip and slide.
Trixie continued to bark, and Gingersnap let out a long sad howl that set off other dogs nearby.
And then I saw a hand on the ground.
“Zelda!” Her name rose from my throat involuntarily. Not Zelda!
As I neared, my breath came nosily. The hand lay palm down. Surely Zelda’s hand wasn’t that large. It looked like a man’s hand to me.
Trixie, Huey, and Gingersnap sniffed around the base of a pine tree, the large branches hanging over their backs. I fell to my knees. My gaze followed the blood-spattered hand to an arm clad in a short-sleeved black T-shirt.
I pulled aside a low-hanging branch and peered in the shadows beneath the tree.
He lay on his stomach, his face turned toward me. There was no doubting the bloody mess that was Hank’s neck. His eyes were wide-open, his expression one of surprise. I didn’t think there was any point in CPR, but I felt his wrist for a pulse out of an abundance of caution.
It was cold.
Shuddering, I pulled away from the grisly scene and, for the first time, noted blood on the grass.
“Trixie? Holly, is that you?”
I looked over my shoulder to see Zelda stumbling toward me. Her long blonde hair was mussed, as though she had just rolled out of bed. She wore an oversized T-shirt long enough to cover her rear. “Holly, what are you doing?”
She screamed when she saw the hand. “Who . . . who is it?” she whispered.
“I’m sorry, Zelda. It’s Hank.”
“What?” She must not have believed me because she knelt on the grass and looked under the tree branches. She pulled out fast, a trembling hand covering her mouth. “He was massacred!”
