“But if he didn’t?” Cecilie asked.
“The disappearance of Lucas Cross shortly before his next release was bound to send sales into the stratosphere. She figured she might need to cut her losses and run. She was hoping to get a big score before that was necessary,” Lia concluded.
“Poor Leroy,” Alice said.
“Poor Leroy, hah!” Debby said. “He ran off with that hussy.”
“Citrine?” Alice asked, mouth gaping.
“No, the one that kidnapped him. They made that little side trip to Toronto so they could give us Carol as their going away present.”
“No!” The other women said in unison.
“Carol’s plan backfired,” Debby continued. “He says he got his rhythm after the first week of being chained to a laptop and has decided he’s a writer.
“Remember Nick Russell from AustinCon? Leroy and what’s-her-face headed off in her RV to meet up with Nick and his wife in Minnesota. Nick has promised to mentor him while they travel around the country.”
“But our launch!” Cecilie wailed.
“He said it was time we stood up to take our bows, and the notoriety will carry us through until our fans get used to us.”
“I don’t know if there can be an us without Sarah,” Cecilie mumbled.
“Maybe we need to reinvent ourselves. I miss my quirky villagers. I’d like to get back to that series,” Alice said.
“I’m tired of that Koi bitch,” Debby said to Cecilie. “What say you and I kill her off in a spectacular way.”
“We could toss in Colt for a twofer,” Cecilie said. “They meet, fall in love, and get blown to bits on the honeymoon.”
“Now you’re talking.”
Epilogue
Saturday, August 6
It was the voices outside that woke Peter. That and slamming car doors. This would have to be the Saturday of the damn community garage sale.
He’d had too much paperwork to catch up on the night before, and slept through his usual Saturday morning at the dog park with Lia. The sun was high and laser hot where it shot through the crack between the curtains, hitting him between the shoulders. He started to pull the pillow over his head, but Viola nosed in next to him, frantically licking his face with an “uh, uh, uh.”
Dog. Walk. Right. A pair of shorts hanging from a doorknob were handy and still wearable. He grabbed a tee shirt, pulling it over his head on the way out while Viola whimpered at his heels. As an afterthought, he grabbed a pair of sunglasses with the leash. Self defense.
People streamed in and out of the house two doors down, entering with boxes from the lopsided stacks towering by the door and exiting with the same boxes filled to overflowing. The stacks threatened to topple over every time a box was removed, due to the enthusiasm of the customers.
A woman sat on the porch, surveying the activity. She was flanked by a golden retriever and a schnauzer. Viola whuffed hello to Honey and Chewy, causing Lia to look around, smiling.
“Isn’t this wonderful?” she asked Peter as he plopped down in the chair next to hers.
“I’ve never seen such an organized ring of burglars,” Peter said. “I never knew you were a criminal mastermind.”
“Smarty. Alma’s inside with Jim. Bailey and Jose are with them.”
“What the heck is this?”
She pointed to a sign on the lawn declaring “Everything Free.”
“When did you come up with this?”
“You’ve been so busy catching up on case files. I had a chat with Alma about the house last week. I knew she could get so much more for the property if it was cleared out. She didn’t want the hassle, so I suggested letting people take what they wanted for free in order to empty the house. She and Jim are inspecting the contents as they are uncovered, just to ensure Ruth didn’t hide a collection of Tiffany eggs in with the Tupperware.”
“I had a look at the inside last month. You’re more likely to have the Ark of the Covenant stashed in there.”
Lia nodded at a construction dumpster sitting at the curb. “Bailey and Jose are hauling out trash. I bet they wouldn’t mind some help.”
“What’s the pay?”
“Pennies in Heaven.”
Peter sat back, arms folded. “Seriously?”
“This is for Alma.”
“I don’t see you hauling trash.”
“It was my idea. We’ve only be at this since eight, and the house is half-empty already.”
“You’re doing a good thing here.”
“This place is so lovely. All that leaded glass, the turrets, and the sunroom out back. The light is terrific.”
“It does have good bones. Foundation is solid.”
“You know, I’ve been thinking.”
“And?”
“I love this house, I’d buy it, but I need a tenant.”
“Really?”
“I could make a really good deal on rent if someone would help me with maintenance.”
“Thinking about asking Jose?”
“Are you going to make me spell it out?”
“Spell what out?”
“Helena Bonham Carter and Tim Burton. They were a couple. Did you know that?”
“You reading ‘Us’ these days?”
“I should be that bored. Anyway, they were together for 13 years, but they never lived in the same house. They lived next door to each other. Like a duplex, I think.”
“That so?”
“So I was wondering …”
Peter waited her out.
“How much do you know about home maintenance?”
“I’ve been known to change a furnace filter or two. Why do you ask?”
“Geezlepete! Do you want to share the house with me or not?”
“Oh? Were you asking?”
Lia punched him in the shoulder.
“Ow! That depends. Do I get the upstairs or the downstairs?”
“Upstairs.”
“I’d feel better if you were on the second floor. Second floor is always safer.”
“Take it or leave it, Kentucky Boy.”
“And those side lights are a security risk. Anyone could smash one and open the front door from the inside. They need to be removed.”
“Not on your life. I’ll stick a pair of cactuses behind them.”
“Not enough light for cactus.”
“I’ll make fake ones, but the sidelights stay. See, this is what I mean. Conflict.”
“I thought we were engaging in creative negotiation.”
“If I had a tenant who was just a tenant, they’d have no business telling me what floor to live on or what I need to do to my sidelights.”
“How much fun would that be? Would you settle for a security system with glass sensors and a double-cylinder deadbolt?”
“I might. I don’t know if we need the alarm system. We have dogs.”
“Well then.”
“Dourson?”
“Yes, Babe?”
“First glimmer of plumber’s crack, and I’m booting your ass out.”
“I can live with that.”
Chewy's Song
Let’s go for a walk
I don’t mean a stroll.
I’ll pull on my leash
And mark on the trees.
* * *
I’ll bark at a squirrel
And sniff at some poo.
I’ll pee on some tires
And kiss babies, too.
* * *
Let’s go for a walk.
Let’s go for a walk.
Let’s go for a walk.
I want a walk!
Author's Notes
SCOOP is real, as are their 88 occupants. I was privileged to tour their sanctuary, and am amazed at the quality of care these special needs cats receive, funded by garage sales, the occasional fund-raiser and Sarah’s knitting. Soon they will have a live feed in one of their rooms, so you can spend time with the cats as well. If you would like to learn more about the work SCOOP
does with the feral cat population, go to http://www.scoop.org or follow them on facebook, http://ww.facebook.com/scoopcats/.
In 2002, a cow jumped a six-foot fence at a slaughterhouse in Camp Washington, fleeing to Mount Storm Park, which abuts District Five. It eluded capture for 11 days, though there were many reported sightings (later, a rumor spread that a couple who lived adjacent to Mount Storm gave her sanctuary). The cow’s escapades received international attention. Peter Max donated $18,000 in paintings to the SPCA in exchange for custody of the cow, whom he named Cincinnati Freedom. Cincinnati Freedom lived out her days in a sanctuary in New York.
I refer to “pony kegs” in Bailey’s report of her search for Leroy in Chapter Six. These are a dying breed of mom and pop corner grocery store that can still be found in older neighborhoods. Pony keg refers to the small beer kegs that were once sold in these stores.
Ricard Lopez was an American artist/pest control officer obsessed with Icelandic singer Bjork. Upset by her relationship with another musician, he decided to kill her and commit suicide so they would be in the afterlife together. He sent her an acid letter bomb. Then he shot himself while videotaping the event, complete with an explanation of his motives. He left behind a nine-month video diary of his obsession. Authorities were able to intercept the letter bomb.
During his presidency, Bill Clinton had an affair with White House intern, Monica Lewinsky. Clinton’s denial of the affair became the basis for his impeachment trial. Monica’s possession of a dress stained with presidential bodily fluids was a critical issue during the proceeds.
A photograph of two-year-old Quincy Kroner meeting his biggest heroes, the neighborhood garbage men, created a brief internet sensation in 2015.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to Sarah Schellenger and the ladies of Knot Only Knitting, for many hours of delightful companionship, and for letting me use them as the basis for this book. Ditto to SCOOP and their inspiring work. Apologies to Sarah for not using her suggested music for the funeral. I just couldn’t write Queen into such a solemn event.
To my extensive editorial team: K. e. Neal, my editor; a plethora of volunteer beta readers, who are too numerous to name and whose efforts stunned me; and to She Who Refuses To Be Named, who, as always, is my last arbiter of proper English.
To my compatriots at The Retreat. I love taking this ride with you. Thanks to Russell Blake, George Wier and Nick Russell for allowing me to poke fun at them.
To Billy Kring for your-know-what.
To Elizabeth Mackey, my amazing cover artist.
And lastly, to the morning crew at the dog park, for continual inspiration.
About the Author
Carol Ann Newsome is a writer and painter who lives in Cincinnati with two former street urchins named Shadda and Chewy, and a furry piranha named Gypsy. She and her hooligans can be found every morning at the Mount Airy Dog Park.
* * *
Carol loves to hear from readers.
* * *
Sign up for C. A.’s News if you would like to be notified about future releases by C. A. Newsome. Members of the C. A.’s News list receive exclusive access to Carol’s online file of deleted scenes. Other perks from the dog park: dog tips, recipes from Lia, safety tips from Peter, spiritual musings from Jim, quotes from Terry, and the occasional dog meme.
Carol can be reached at:
CarolNewsome
CANewsome.com
[email protected]
Also by C. A. Newsome
A Shot in the Bark
Drool Baby
Maximum Security
Sneak Thief
Muddy Mouth
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When a Machiavellian voice professor has his department in a stranglehold, who doesn’t want to kill him?
Fur Boys
Spring, 2017
Thank you for reading Muddy Mouth. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
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Please consider helping others find this series by leaving a review where you purchased this book (You can use the links above). Every one counts, whether it is three words or three hundred.
Muddy Mouth: A Dog Park Mystery Page 21
