Any Meat In That Soup? (Sam Darling Mystery #2)

by Jerilyn Dufresne

  “How?” He got closer as we walked.

  “Did you see those two dogs who got the hot dog and their owner didn’t even know?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That had to be what happened to Clancy. I never let her eat stuff when we’re outside or on our walk. She had to have done it quickly, without me looking. Plus she looked guilty when I asked her.”

  Gus was one of my friends and family who didn’t roll his eyes when I talked about Clancy knowing things. He asked, “What are you going to do about it?”

  “I guess I’ll tell Michael and George.” Omigod. Michael was my boss in the investigation and I forgot to go see him yesterday. Crap. I promised myself I’d call him when we got on the road and see if he had time to meet when I got back to Quincy. I’d call George from the car too.

  But first things first. We got in the car and drove to the first fast food place with a drive through. A bored voice said, “Help you?”

  I ordered a double burger with no bun and no condiments and heard the voice say something about “one of those crazy no-carb diets.” I ignored it because I was in such a good mood. I also ordered a sweet tea for me and a cup of coffee for Gus.

  After I paid for and received the purchases, I handed the bag to Gus, who promptly unwrapped the treasures and leaned around and gave them to Clancy. She did not eat like someone with manners. I could hear the “gulp” and the satisfied belch. I know she would have verbalized a “thank you” if she could have. This was indeed an unusual treat for her.

  The rest of the trip was uneventful. Gus and I sang World War I and II era songs, which is what we did when we first met when I was in grade school. He was one of my oldest friends.

  When we arrived home, Gus hugged both Clancy and me and turned to go into his house. Before he’d taken two steps he turned around and said, “You forgot to call Michael and George.”

  I slapped my head, then thanked Gus for his reminder. I thought about a thing I’d seen on Facebook. “Two things that bother me about aging are losing my short-term memory and losing my short-term memory.” My memory may be suffering, but Gus was in his eighties and as sharp as ever.

  Clancy relieved herself on Georgianne’s plants. For some reason I couldn’t rejoice in that as much as I used to.

  Clancy led the way into our home. I immediately sat down on the couch and called Michael. It was Saturday, but I was sure he wouldn’t mind being bothered.

  The first thing out of his mouth after the hellos was, “Looks like you and Lansing have become quite the item.”

  I didn’t know what to say so I didn’t say anything.

  It was only a short silence, and he broke it. “Interesting.”

  Even though I didn’t know what “interesting” meant, I thought he might be a little upset that I was with George. “You didn’t act like you wanted anything else from me. I mean, you said things, but you didn’t act on them.”

  His chuckle made me smile. “Your directness is one of the things I like about you.”

  I didn’t know what else to say about the situation, and it seemed that Michael wasn’t as upset as I thought, or wished, he’d be. I guessed there would be no duels fought over me, but if truth be told, it was okay. I had George and I loved him.

  I decided to continue. “Who was the woman with you at Joe’s Place?”

  “Just a business associate.”

  I thought he was a one-man operation. Maybe he had others like me who worked as needed for him. And when I say “like me,” I meant only in the sense that we were both women. The resemblance ended there.

  Putting aside those errant thoughts, I said, “I wanted to tell you something I came up with.” I then went through the tale of the hot dog at the therapy dog test.

  Michael said, “Sounds plausible. Maybe meat was poisoned, and somehow made its way to both dogs and humans. Let’s hold onto that and think about it for a while.”

  I disconnected, then wondered what went wrong. Michael always said really nice things to me, and was flirtatious, but never made a move.

  I’d think about that later. I immediately called George, to give him basically the same information. The phone call ended differently however. He thanked me, and then started talking about personal matters.

  He made me feel like a teenager, all mushy and gooey-eyed, when I wanted to concentrate on murder. After we ended the conversation, I sat and thought about two things—George and the murder. My thoughts were convoluted, but both subjects made me smile. George, for obvious reasons, and the murder because I figured out something important.

  Now to find out who poisoned the meat, and how it got to both dogs and humans.

  EIGHTEEN

  I woke up the next morning, and decided to skip Sunday church. I felt guilty but had a good reason. I was going to snoop.

  I put on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, filled a vacuum mug with coffee, put Clancy on a leash, and set off. There was no coherent plan. That’s not what I was good at. I was good at impulsive and sometimes stupid behavior…‌but it got the job done. Kind of.

  Shaking off any doubts, I talked to Clancy out loud, making my plan as we went. “I think Loretta goes to the Full Gospel Praise the Spirit Church of Divine Love.” I could feel Clancy’s doubt. “I’m not making this up.”

  I thought I’d go to her church. And then do what? Well, I hadn’t gotten that far yet. I’d go to her church and wait. That’s what I’d do. I told Clancy as much. No response from her. That must mean I was on the right track.

  Right track or not, that’s what I was going to do. And since Clancy was riding shotgun, that’s what she was going to do too.

  I had no problem finding the church because I’d volunteered there earlier in the month, debriefing some kids and families after a traumatic event in the community. Even though I poked fun at the name of the church, the members were the warmest and most welcoming people at any church I’d been to, including my own.

  So I parked. And waited. And waited. And waited. I’d forgotten that this church had long services. We Catholics knew which priest took how long saying the Mass. And if we were in a hurry we went to the half-hour version, and if we really felt like worshipping we went to the full hour Mass. Nothing like this.

  I scooted around in my seat, wishing I’d brought water for Clancy and me, but then I’d have to find a bathroom. As it was, I was just bored, but not uncomfortable. “Sorry, Clancy. I’d forgotten how boring stakeouts were supposed to be. The only other one we did was much more exciting, wasn’t it? A half hour from start to finish, and we caught the murderers at the end.” I smiled at the memory, conveniently skipping over the part where I almost got killed.

  My reverie was interrupted by a pounding on my car window. It was Loretta, and she was steaming. I imagined her blood boiling. I put the window down and she stuck her head in. Because I still had my seatbelt on I couldn’t move very far away. As usual I could count how many cavities she’d had repaired. What was up with this woman?

  My vibes were in high gear as I started sweating, and the dizziness almost made me swoon. I tuned in to what she was saying rather than what I was experiencing and caught her in mid-sentence, “…‌and just who do you think you are? Just because your sister is the boss in the ER doesn’t give you the right to follow innocent people like me. Get the hell away from here.”

  She pulled her head out and gave my car a push forward. It appeared she actually thought she could make my car move. In her current mood, I had no doubt she could do it.

  “Now, now, Sister Johnson, what seems to be the matter?” Dr. Simmons’ soft voice had a calming influence on both of us. This demeanor belied his preaching ability. He was able to “raise the roof” when he was on the pulpit. Outside the pulpit he was the calmest man in town.

  Loretta hesitated, then said, “I was just asking her politely to leave. She’s blocking the fire hydrant.”

  I wanted to scream, “Liar, liar, pants on fire,” but caught myself in time. I was sure Dr. Simmons
had already heard what Loretta had really said, but was just being diplomatic.

  Loretta had the sense to at least look sheepish. She looked at the ground and said, “Sorry, Pastor. I get worked up sometimes.”

  “Yes, sister. Use that energy for the Lord instead of for whatever you were doing.”

  “Yes, Pastor, I will.”

  Dr. Simmons turned to me, “Hello again, Sam. What brings you to church this morning? You’re a little late for the service.”

  What could I say? I couldn’t lie to Dr. Simmons. So I told the truth. “I’m following Loretta.”

  Her “So there!” look pissed me off. Now she knew what I was up to, and there was nothing I could do about it.

  When I told Dr. Simmons that Loretta was a subject in a murder investigation he started laughing. I wanted to tell him what I suspected, but couldn’t, with her standing right there.

  I pulled away, with Dr. Simmons still laughing and Loretta still fuming. I was really good at this investigating stuff.

  What they didn’t know, however, was that I waited a few blocks away, in an alley, hoping that Loretta would drive my way.

  And a few minutes later my hopes were answered when her little green sedan passed by. I waited a moment before pulling behind her. Again, I wished I had a special, nondescript car for surveillance. My beloved blue Bug stuck out like a butterfly at a caterpillar convention.

  I decided to just stay close to her, since she’d probably already suspected I’d be following her. She even waved at me a few times as we drove through the city. When she arrived home at a neat little frame house, I parked behind her. She opened her trunk and I craned my neck to see what was inside. I even undid my seatbelt to give me a better stretch.

  Inside the trunk was a bag full of something or other. It kind of looked like the bag I saw Dougie carry from Holtschlag’s Feed and Grain Store. I’d need to get a closer look so I’d know for sure.

  So, before I had a chance to think things through, I jumped out of my car and said, “Hey, Loretta.”

  She’d known I was there already, but probably hadn’t suspected that I’d get out of my car. She glanced down at the contents of her trunk and quickly closed it.

  Damn. I still wasn’t 100% sure it was rat poison, but it did have the same colors as the bag Dougie had carried—red and yellow.

  She didn’t say anything, but walked to the house. This was the first time she hadn’t gotten in my face to talk to me, and I rather enjoyed it.

  As I got back in my car I started talking to Clancy. “It looked like the same bag. But what does that matter? There’s no arsenic in rat poison anymore. Is this significant? Or was Dougie just buying rat poison for his mother’s rat problem?” My head hurt from the possibilities and improbabilities. Clancy calmed me with her presence as she was normally able to do. Soon my adrenaline had slowed and I was breathing normally. “Thanks, Clancy.” She smiled. Clancy would make an excellent therapy dog.

  “That reminds me. I’m going to put in a formal request tomorrow for you to work as a therapy dog at the clinic. Sure hope they say yes.”

  I could tell she hoped so too.

  I called George as I pulled into the courtyard at home. I left a message inviting him to come over, that I had some news for him.

  Then I decided a nap was in order. Clancy and I slept until my phone rang. George said he was on his way over, and I couldn’t tell him I had a nap face. So I said okay.

  I jumped up, ran my fingers through my hair and licked my lips. This would have to do.

  The doorbell rang shortly thereafter, and I was glad I hadn’t been home long enough to mess up the place too much.

  Opening the door, I grinned stupidly. Then I really did feel stupid when it was Carter Callahan from the hospital.

  “Er…‌hi,” was all I could come up with.

  He gave his usual nod and began to step through the doorway.

  “Um, Carter, I’m kind of busy. What do you want?”

  “I’m here to tell you who killed the people.”

  NINETEEN

  I quickly changed my attitude. “Why are you standing outside? Come on in.” As I started to close the door I saw George’s car pull in next to mine. Carter must have taken the bus again.

  I left the door open for George and ushered Carter into the living room. George came in and I gave him a peck on the cheek.

  He looked me up and down until I blushed. Finally he said, “You don’t have any pants on.”

  Crap. I’d taken off my jeans to take the nap and forgot to put them back on. I quickly excused myself, ran to my bedroom and fixed the situation.

  When I got back to the living room I saw Carter and George each drinking a beer.

  George looked up, “That’s better.” He smiled that smile. “Carter was waiting until you got back. He said he knows who killed those patients.”

  Carter nodded, as he usually does. I sat down, noticing that George had gotten a beer for me. A mid-afternoon Sunday beer. Seemed like a good idea to me.

  I didn’t want to spook Carter, so I held back a little, which meant I gave him about a minute to tell us what he wanted to say before I asked.

  “So, uh Carter…” He didn’t take the hint, so I had to ask, “What did you want to talk about again?”

  “I thought I’d tell you who the killer is. I kept telling you it was right under your nose, but you didn’t seem to get it.”

  I couldn’t let it go. “Well, I figured out how the dogs might have gotten poisoned. It was right under their noses.” I waited, but he didn’t say anything, so I continued. “This is what I called you about yesterday, “ I looked at George when I said it. “I know how the dogs were poisoned, especially Clancy. She must have picked up some meat when I wasn’t looking. I noticed it at the therapy dog test. Some dogs were able to grab a piece of meat off the floor when they were walking with their owners, and the owners didn’t even notice it. That had to have happened with Clancy, and maybe the other dogs.”

  Neither guy reacted.

  “C’mon, you guys. That has to be what happened.”

  George looked pained as he said, “You already told me that last night. I didn’t want to burst your bubble, but that’s kind of obvious, Sam.”

  “Not to me,” I blustered. “I know Clancy doesn’t eat anything that I or someone else she knows doesn’t give her. So this was a huge deal when I came up with it.”

  I saw the look on George’s face. “Don’t you dare give me that condescending look!”

  And then to Carter, “Tell me what you want to tell me or get out.”

  He stood up and started for the door.

  “Wait!” I grabbed him by the back of his shirt and pushed him back onto the couch. “Tell me!” This was the first time I wasn’t worried about scaring him off.

  Carter had absolutely no emotion on his face. Just like always. He shrugged his shoulders and said, “It’s Loretta.”

  “I knew it. That’s what I think too.”

  George remained calm. “How do you know it’s Loretta? Carter first.” He was in his police detective mode.

  Carter answered, “You know how sometimes I sit in the corner and no one knows I’m there?”

  George and I nodded in unison.

  “Well, I was doing that when Loretta and Dougie came in. Loretta said something about she was sorry it happened, but Dougie better not say anything. And Dougie said he didn’t know if he could keep quiet any longer, that he felt guilty. Then they noticed I was there and both left real fast.”

  “Great. I just knew it was her. Because she’s so short and stands so close to me, she is literally right under my nose. Nice clue, Carter. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “You’re getting paid to figure this all out. I thought I’d give you a clue to help, but I wasn’t going to do your job for you. It’s taken so long that I thought I’d tell you.”

  I couldn’t believe it. “How do you know I’m getting paid to snoop?”

  He gav
e a little smile and said, “I sit. I listen.”

  George’s turn. “Sounds to me like it could be either one. Or both. Sam, what made you think that Loretta is the murderer?”

  “Okay, this may not be enough for you, but I saw Dougie buy a sack of rat poison at Holtschlag’s. Then I saw the same bag in Loretta’s trunk. At least I think it was the same bag. Looked like it anyway.”

  “That’s circumstantial, but it does give me something to follow up. Again, it points to both of them, not just Loretta.” He paused a moment, then continued, “You do remember that there’s no arsenic in rat poison, don’t you?”

  I could do nothing but say, “Yes.”

  “Still it’s something for me to check out. Is that why you asked me to come over?”

  “Part of the reason…”

  “What’s the other part?” His voice got a little huskier.

  I moved my head toward Carter. Once again, he was sitting somewhere unnoticed.

  Carter said, “The buses don’t run at this hour. Guess I’ll have to walk home.”

  Unhappily, and with great disappointment, I said, “George, maybe you can take him home.”

  George didn’t look happy either. “Yeah. Okay.”

  He let Carter out the door first, then partially shut it. George grabbed me and gave me a smooch of which songs are written. I had never experienced one like it, and only hoped I had a future full of them. They just kept getting better and better.

  “See ya later,” he said.

  I couldn’t talk.

  TWENTY

  I cleaned up the house a little. Then I noticed Clancy staring at me. She’d never seen me in this state over a man. I ignored her stare and told her it was time for bed.

  Normally I’d find it hard to sleep because pieces of the murder puzzle would be floating around in my head and I would be problem solving. Tonight was different. George occupied my mind. Just George. How could I have let all this time go by without forgiving him for a teenage wrongdoing? I wasted so much time.

  Perhaps this was the way it was supposed to be. Meeting again in our mid-40s, at a time when we were more sensible, more settled. At least George was. I was feeling like a teenager with a giant crush on the coolest guy in school.