“She’s out back.” The child in shorts spun on her heel and raced away. “I’ll go get her.”
“No, I will!” The other girl dashed after her.
Since I hadn’t been invited to follow, I waited on the step. The open front door provided a view of a wide front hallway, a curved stairway leading up to the second floor, and an expansive living room. If I’d been a burglar, I’d have been inside in a second.
One minute passed. Then another. Considering that the Bennings’ neighbor had just been murdered in what the police had characterized as an attempted robbery, it was amazing that their security was so lax.
Then Nancy Benning appeared, hurrying down the long hallway, wiping damp hands on her shorts. She smiled tentatively, brushed her fingers back through thick hair much like her daughters’, and pulled the open door partway closed, blocking the space that remained with her body.
Rather like closing the barn door after the horse was already gone, I thought.
“Thank you for waiting,” she said, her words tumbling out in a rush. “The girls aren’t supposed to open the door, but they thought you were someone they knew. Can I help you?”
“I hope so.” I extended a hand and introduced myself. “I was a friend of your neighbor, Sheila Vaughn. I wonder if you might have a minute to talk?”
“I guess so.” She glanced behind her. “Molly, Jessie, you girls go upstairs and play, okay? I’ll keep an eye out for Sarah and let you know when she comes.”
Giggling, the twins fled. Nancy waited until they were gone, then opened the door and invited me in.
“They’re adorable,” I said, following her into the living room. With its hardwood floor and polished antiques, the room was pristine; I could only imagine that the twins did their playing elsewhere.
“They’re a handful. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that two are barely more trouble than one. Nancy perched on the edge of a plump cushion and smoothly switched gears. ”Now then, what can I do for you?”
“The woman who was killed over the weekend was my fiancé’s ex-wife. We were just here visiting her. I guess we’re trying to understand what happened ...”
“I’ll never understand,” Nancy said, her voice low and angry. “The police told me they believe Sheila interrupted a burglary and that the burglars killed her. I don’t think I’ve slept a single night through since. Why did they choose that house and not this one? Because it’s back in the trees? Because she was a woman living alone?”
She paused briefly, gnawing on her lip. “I was here that night. My husband, Don, was traveling, so it was just me and the girls. Sheila’s dogs kept barking. You know, the little Pugs? I would never have imagined they could make so much noise.”
“So it wasn’t normal for them to be allowed to bark like that?”
“Not at all. I almost never heard them. Sheila seemed very conscious of the fact that they might bother the neighbors, and she took care to keep them quiet. If she and I hadn’t met one day out on the road and gotten to talking about it, I would never even have known she had so many.”
“When did the Pugs start barking?”
Nancy thought back. “I don’t really know. Of course, now it seems like it might matter. But then, it was just background noise. I put the twins to bed around nine. The windows in their room were open, and I could hear the dogs barking then. I remember hoping that the noise wouldn’t keep them awake.”
She and I shared a mothers’ smile. Bedtimes are never easy.
“So you didn’t call Sheila and ask her to shut them up?”
“Oh no. I would never have done something like that. Especially knowing how hard she tried to keep the dogs from being a nuisance. Actually, I thought maybe she’d gone out. I couldn’t imagine she was home listening to all that noise. I just figured she’d quiet them down eventually.”
“But the barking kept up all night?”
“Yes. So the next morning I did call, but there was no answer. That’s when I began to think maybe I should go have a look, just to make sure everything was okay. I cut through the woods in back.”
“Your property and Sheila’s are adjoining?”
“That’s right. Most of the newer houses around here are on two or three acres. But Mrs. Andrews—she’s the lady who leased the house to Sheila?—her house was built years ago. It’s got seven or eight, which is really nice for us because the girls like to play in the woods, and we don’t feel like we have a neighbor right on top of us.”
Above us, I heard a loud boom. The ceiling seemed to vibrate, and the movement was accompanied by a loud, delighted shriek. Nancy stood. “Excuse me for a minute, would you?”
She stepped out of the room and walked to the foot of the stairs. “Girls! No jumping on the bed!”
Though she sounded annoyed, I couldn’t help grinning. Sometimes it was nice to be reminded that it wasn’t only the mothers of little boys who had their hands full.
“Okay,” Nancy said, coming back in. “Where were we?”
“You went over to Sheila’s Saturday morning?”
“Right.”
“And when you got there, the door was locked?”
“No, it wasn’t. It wasn’t even closed all the way. When I saw that, I got a really creepy feeling.”
“Did you go in?”
“No. I rang the bell, and when no one answered, I walked around the side of the house. You know, calling Sheila’s name? The Pugs were out back in that fenced area. They must have been pretty tired by then because when they saw me, they ran over to the gate and began whining like they wanted me to let them out.”
“So they weren’t in the house when you got there?”
“No, I just told you that, didn’t I? The Pugs were outside in the yard.”
So much for the random robbery theory.
Sheila had been home when her attacker arrived. She’d probably let him or her inside. Sheila wasn’t stupid; she wouldn’t have opened her door to just anybody.
The police could search all they wanted for a stranger.
I knew we were looking for a friend.
Fifteen
“What’s the matter?” asked Nancy. I looked up to find she was watching me closely. “What do you know that I don’t?”
I debated what to say only briefly. Nancy had a right to know. “Based on what you just told me, it’s highly unlikely that Sheila was killed by a burglar, no matter what the police think.” I outlined what Sam had said about the way Sheila cared for her dogs.
“I don’t know whether to feel better or worse,” she said when I was finished. “Until Sheila was killed, I would have said that this was one of the safest neighborhoods we could have found. This whole thing has really shaken us.”
I could imagine. “How well did you know Sheila?”
“Not very. Like I said, we met for the first time out on the road. She was picking up her mail, and I was driving by. I stopped and introduced myself. This isn’t Donna Reed-ville, believe me. Nobody comes and greets the new neighbors with a homemade cake.
“I invited her to stop by for coffee sometime, but as you can probably imagine, our schedules were totally opposite. I would love to have some company during the week, but of course that’s when Sheila was working. She finally came by one Saturday, but we didn’t get much chance to talk.”
“How come?”
“Don. My husband? He was here when she got here. Let’s just say they really hit it off.”
Her tone wasn’t quite bitter, but close. Call it seriously annoyed. What do you know? Nancy and I had something in common.
“Don’t tell me. Sheila roped him into doing a few things for her around the house.”
Nancy looked surprised. “How did you know?”
“Been there. I thought it was only Sam.”
“I thought it was only Don.”
We both smiled.
“It’s not that I minded Don playing good Samaritan, just that if he was going to do it, he should have started a little soon
er. When Mabel Andrews was living all by herself in that house, she could have used someone looking out for her. She’s in her eighties and the last time I saw her, she was looking quite frail.
“Before she went into managed care, I used to stop by and check on her every few days or so. Mabel always said she was fine, but I think she just didn’t want to be a bother. By the end, even the basic upkeep had pretty much gotten away from her.”
I nodded. That jibed with what Sheila had told me. “The other day, over at the house, I met Mrs. Andrews’s son.”
“Chuck? Mabel used to keep his picture on the mantel, and she spoke about him occasionally. Frankly, if you ask me, he could have been paying a little more attention. Anyway, I don’t want to give you the wrong impression about Sheila. It’s not that I didn’t like her, more that I never really got to know her.”
I heard a giggle, followed by a thump. A small voice whispered, “You go!”
“No, you go!”
Nancy frowned. “Molly? Jessie? Aren’t you girls supposed to be upstairs?”
“We were upstairs.” One of the twins, I wasn’t sure which, slid into the doorway. It looked as though she’d been propelled there by a disembodied pair of hands. The girl batted the hands away, added another slap for good measure, then turned back to Nancy and me with a grin. “We came down to wait for Sarah. She was supposed to be here by now.”
“I’m sure she’s coming any minute, Jessie. Were you listening when you weren’t supposed to be?”
“No!” This accompanied by an emphatic shake of the head. Then she ruined the effect by adding, “Are the police going to catch the man who hurt Mrs. Vaughn?”
Nancy and I exchanged a look. I had no idea what she might have told the twins about the murder. Probably not much. “Did you know Mrs. Vaughn?” I asked.
“Sure,” said Jessie, as Molly appeared to stand beside her. “We used to see her all the time.”
“You did?” Nancy’s eyes narrowed. “When?”
“When we were playing in the woods. Her house is right back there. Sometimes she let us pet her dogs. Once she gave us each a cookie.”
“We liked her a lot,” said Molly. “But we didn’t like the man.”
“What man?” Nancy and I asked together.
“The mean man.” Jessie made a face. “He came to visit, and made her unhappy. Sometimes he yelled.”
Brian? I wondered. Not necessarily, but his was the first name that came to mind.
“What did the man look like?” I asked.
“He was tall,” said Jessie.
“Way taller than us,” Molly added.
That wasn’t saying much.
I looked at Nancy. “Do you have any idea who they’re talking about?”
“None. I didn’t even know that they were visiting Sheila through the woods. I guess I should have been paying more attention.” Her gaze focused steadily on the two girls. “Is there anything else going on that I should know about?”
Both heads shook back and forth in unison. If I hadn’t seen the same innocent expression on Davey’s face when I knew full well that he was up to something, I might have been tempted to believe them.
“Kids.” Nancy sighed. “You can’t keep watch them every second of the day. And until recently, I had no idea I needed to.”
A car horn tooted outside. The two girls shrieked, and ran to the front door. “Sarah’s here!” cried Molly, as Jessie unlatched the door and threw it open. Immediately, they both ran out.
“I know you spoke to the police,” I said to Nancy as we followed them. “But did they ever talk to your girls?”
“Of course not. Detective Holloway didn’t ask, but even if he had, I wouldn’t have allowed it.”
“But considering what they just said—”
“No,” Nancy cut me off firmly. “There’s absolutely no way I would ever allow the twins to get involved. My husband, Don, is a lawyer, and between the two of us, we would block any attempt to make them part of the investigation.”
We’d reached the front porch. In the driveway, Sarah’s mother had pulled her car up behind mine. Sarah was already out of the backseat and running in the yard with Molly and Jessie. Her mother sketched a cheery wave out the window.
“I guess you’d better move your car,” said Nancy. The dismissal was clear in her tone.
I fished my car keys out of my pocket. “Thanks for your time.”
“No problem.”
Nancy turned away and strode over to the car behind mine. Ducking down, she leaned her head in the window and began to talk to Sarah’s mom. Feeling vaguely guilty about having wrecked her day, I slid behind the wheel of the Volvo.
I understood how Nancy felt, but unlike her, I couldn’t just stick my head in the sand. Somewhere, a murderer was still free. She might be able to ignore that fact, but it sure gave me the willies.
Back on the road, I considered my options and headed south. If nobody was going to take their information to the police, then I figured I was going to have to do it for them. However, there were two immediate problems with that.
First, I knew from past experience that the police were not likely to jump for joy when handed proof that someone had been meddling in one of their cases. And second, I had no idea where the state police barracks in Somers was located. Actually, I knew nothing about Somers at all, except that it was north of North Salem. I learned that from the map. Davey’s soccer camp was south, and the afternoon was passing.
I probably don’t have to draw you a picture.
So I headed home. I figured I could call Detective Holloway just as easily as talk to him in person. Besides, considering that I was going to tell him I was doing legwork that his men should have covered, I wouldn’t mind having some distance between us.
Faith was waiting for me in the front hall, and her dark, almond shaped eyes were filled with reproach. Usually I take her with me almost everywhere. Now that she was pregnant, however, I was trying to cut down on the amount of stress she was exposed to; and that meant leaving her home. The house was cool and quiet, and she should have been napping. Instead, I could see by her anxious expression, she’d been waiting for my return.
“What’s the matter?” I asked. “Did you miss me?”
Faith woofed her reply. Then she turned and raced toward the back door. That signal was clear. Faith needed to go out. Now. By the time I flipped the latch, she was whining softly under her breath.
As soon as the door was open a crack, the Poodle dashed down the back steps and squatted immediately. A wave of guilt washed over me. Single mothers get used to juggling everybody’s needs, but Faith was usually so easy I’d gotten into the habit of taking her for granted. Obviously I was going to have to start trying harder.
And if Faith herself hadn’t just managed to convey that thought, the message that was waiting for me on my answering machine would have.
“It’s me,” said Aunt Peg, secure in the knowledge that I would recognize her voice. “Why aren’t you there? Who’s watching Faith? Do you have her with you? Have you started to take her temperature yet? I hope you’re keeping records.”
I grimaced at the barrage of questions. No doubt Aunt Peg would find my answers highly unsatisfactory.
“I’m calling to tell you that I’m stopping by later with a whelping box for Faith,” she continued. “It’s high time you started to make preparations.”
“Yes, Aunt Peg,” I muttered dutifully, as Faith scampered back up the steps. I got a biscuit out of the box in the pantry and handed it to her.
“I’ll be there about five-thirty. Don’t worry about dinner. I’ll bring something with me. I hope Davey likes Chinese. By the way, have you lined up a supplier for goat’s milk yet?”
Goat’s milk? I spun around and stared at the machine.
Like it was going to offer me answers. No dice. Instead it clicked off, signaling that Aunt Peg was done giving orders. For the moment, anyway.
Since I still had some time before D
avey got back, I dialed information and got the number for the state police in Somers. So far, so good. Then I called and asked for Detective Holloway.
I sat on hold for three minutes, plenty of time to calculate how much money I was spending in long-distance rates to listen to dead air. By the time Holloway picked up, my patience was wearing thin. Maybe I should have written him a letter.
“This is Detective Holloway,” he said brusquely. “What can I do for you?”
“My name is Melanie Travis. I’m calling about Sheila Vaughn. You met my fiancé, Sam Driver, at her house on Saturday.”
“Yes?” The single word didn’t sound encouraging. More like he wished I’d hurry up and get to the point.
“Sam told me it was your impression that Sheila had interrupted a burglary, that she was killed by someone who broke into her house.”
This time when I paused, Holloway didn’t bother to reply. He simply waited. All at once, none of the interesting things I’d planned to tell him seemed very interesting.
“Sam told you about Sheila’s Pugs, right? That they wouldn’t have been outside unless she was home?”
“Yes, I believe he did mention that.”
“So that meant that Sheila let her killer into the house.”
“Not necessarily. What if the robber arrived first and let the dogs outside himself so that they wouldn’t be in his way?”
“I guess that’s possible,” I conceded. “But it doesn’t seem very likely. If you were looking for a house to rob, would you choose one that was filled with guard dogs?”
“Guard dogs?”
I couldn’t see Holloway, but I swear I could hear his smile.
“You are referring to the Pugs, aren’t you?”
“Yes, of course,” I said huffily. I wasn’t getting anywhere and we both knew it. The heck with it, I thought, and went in another direction. “Are you aware that Sheila recently became partner in a magazine whose primary function is to expose the sordid secrets of the dog show world?”
There was a brief moment of silence. I heard the sound of papers being shuffled, then Holloway was back. “Woof!, right? Brian Endicott is the other managing partner, and I met him on Saturday as well.”
Unleashed (A Melanie Travis Mystery) Page 12
