by Unknown
Abbie gasped, her mouth falling open. "They were black bags. Isn't that what murderers use?"
"Maybe he did see you and you thwarted his plans to dump the body."
There was only one way to find out, she would have to snoop on the mayor and see what he was up to. One could not just go around saying the guy was a murderer. His family was old money and besides that fact, Abbie had dated him in high school.
"I don't want to think he's a killer. He was my first...you know."
Her friend shrugged. "Maybe you were attracted to him because he's a bad boy. A dangerous man."
"Clark was in the chess club. For goodness sakes, the man doesn't have a dangerous bone in his body. Well except for one maybe," she giggled and hiccupped. "Damn it, I hate this. Every time I get nervous, I get the darn hiccups."
"Is anyone back there? This is horrible customer service." Mrs. Grundy called from the counter. "I can't believe you two stay in business," she snapped when they emerged from the back. Her narrowed eyes went from one to the other.
"Good afternoon Mrs. Grundy," Becka said with a sweet smile. "What can I get you?"
The old lady sniffed and looked down her nose at the scones in the display case. "How old are they?"
"Less than half an hour, Becka just baked them," Abbie told her moving to where the cups were held since the woman always ordered chamomile tea.
"I'll take one. It better be fresh or I'm not paying for it." She shuffled to a table. It was then Abbie noticed a little dog. It looked like a cross between a terrier and some sort of rat. It sat on the floor and looked up at her.
"Mrs. Grundy is that your dog? You can't bring pets in here."
The old woman studied the pitiful creature. "That ugly thing? Of course not. Put it out of it's misery and throw it in the dumpster."
The little dog yapped, each bark making its tiny body bounce off the floor. Then it trotted over to where Mrs. Grundy sat, lifted its leg and peed on her pant leg.
Abbie's eyes flew wide and she bit her lip to keep from alerting the old woman who was too focused out the window to notice.
Before she could help it, she rushed to where the little dog stood and swooped it up. The dog yelped in surprise and snapped at her.
"Be quiet if you want to live," Abbie told it toting the dog across the room to her cramped office and placed him in the empty box she'd carried earlier with her supplies.
She went to the cleaning closet and got an old towel and pinched a piece of leftover scone. Surprisingly the little dog remained in the box so she smoothed the towel on the bottom and held out the treat. The dog ate the offering in two bites, yawned and settled into the towel.
From the table Mrs. Grundy shook her head. "I've half a mind to report you for having that mongrel on the premises. That's Cissie Bloom's dog. That girl is too busy being a slut to watch after her animal."
The older woman drank her tea in silence seeming overly interested in something happening outside toward the center of town where Whisper Park was.
Calling it a park was a bit of an overstatement, but the town referred to the small patch of grass that ran down the center of downtown, with a gazebo and smattering of benches, as Whisper Park since before Abbie was born.
LATER WHEN THEY prepared to close shop, Becka split the remaining six scones. Three she'd take home and the other three she gave to Abbie, who would drop them off either at the sheriff's office or the fire station. Since there were only three, she'd drop them off at the sheriff's since they only had one deputy on duty and another on call.
Mrs. Grundy finally stood and dropped a five-dollar bill on the table. "You should put more butter in the batter," she said and left.
"WHAT ARE you doing with the dog?" Becka asked looking into the box at the slumbering terrier. "He sure is happy in that box. Kinda strange."
"Taking him to Cissie's. It's on my way home."
Becka frowned. "You don't live that way."
"I know. I want to drive past Clark's and see what he's up to."
"I should go with you," Becka said grabbing her purse and keys. "We should find his car and check it out. Maybe the dog can help. Do you think he'll know what a dead body smells like?"
Abbie lifted the box and the little dog looked at her from between the long hair strips that fell over its ugly face. "Maybe. Let's go. I'll bring you back by to get your car."
"Nah, I'll leave it. I'll get my honey bunch to drop me off in the morning."
ABBIE MOTORED past city hall and the library, the mayor wasn't at either place. She slowed down when passing his house and once again no sign of the mayor. Giving up on the obvious places, they drove down Lexington Avenue, which lead out of the center of town. From there it was three miles down to Tall Pines Lane where Cissie Bloom, a real estate agent, lived.
When they passed the Dooly house, a historical home of an old president or some other government position once lived they spotted the mayor's car parked in front. Abbie pulled over just past the gray car and looked to Becka. "Let's take the dog over and go past his car. Pretend we’re out walking the dog."
They climbed out of the car. When Abbie reached for the dog it growled. "Shit I think it's going to bite me."
"Bring it in the box then."
They strolled slowly, pretending to hold a conversation while eyeing the car. The closer they got to the car the more nervous Becka got. Her eyes widened and she wrung her hands. "Oh God what if we see blood drippin'" Her southern accent became more pronounced. "I swear, I'll pass clean out."
"Hush, Becka. Let's just get close enough so the dog can sniff." Once they were even with the trunk of the car she lowered the box moving it closer to the vehicle. The dog stared at her and growled. "Do you smell something boy?" The dog gave her a bored look and settled back into the box.
"I don't think he smells anything," Becka her face shiny with sweat. "Let's go. I don't see any blood dripping either."
Abbie leaned over and sniffed. Beep! A car horn sounded and both she and Becka let out a scream. The ugly dog yelped and tried to bury itself under the towel.
Coy waved happily. "Sorry I didn't mean to scare y'all. " She laughed and kept going.
"Let's go," Abbie grumbled. "Once we get Fugly here home. I am going to Clucky's and stuffing my face.
"I'll call Gary and tell him I'll bring dinner home. I can't pass up Clucky's fried chicken after a fright like that. They continued down Lexington Avenue and hooked a left onto Tall Pines.
Cissie's house was an oversized two-story house with four columns on the front. Abbie pulled over in front of the house and put it in park. "I'll be right back. I sure hope this is really her dog."
She made her way up the walkway. The little dog with it's a paw over the sides of the box looking expectantly to the front door. Before she could knock, Cissie Bloom rushed out and slammed the door behind her. "Beauregard!" She reached for the ugly dog that growled and snarled. "Where did you find him?"
"He walked into my shop. I think he followed Mrs. Grundy in."
Cissie held the dog up ignoring its growls. "He hates going to the groomers. Ran off when I got out of the car in front of Roz's shop. Thank you Abbie." She turned on her heel and hurried back inside once again slamming the door shut.
"That was strange," Abbie told Becka once she got back behind the wheel. "She's usually anxious to show off her house."
Becka stretched her neck and looked at the house. "Maybe she's got something in there she doesn't want anyone to see."
"What are you saying?" Abbie asked narrowing her eyes toward Cissie's home.
"What if she's the random thief?"
Abbie put the car in gear and made a U-turn. "She doesn't need anything. Got plenty of money when her eighty-year old husband died."
"I think he was only seventy," Becka said with a pensive expression. "Think about it. She won't arouse suspicions going to houses any time of day. People know she's a realtor. If caught, she can say she's scouting the property out for a client."
<
br /> "You've got a point," Abbie agreed, her mouth watering at the sight of the red and yellow Big Chick sign. "Let's call it a day. Tomorrow we can regroup and maybe come up with an excuse to go back to Cissie's."
Becka looked down the street to where the mayor's car was parked. "I sure hope there's not a dead body in the mayor's car. Sure would be a shame for the man to end up in jail."
Abbie nodded. "I don't think there is, it would be horrible. Let's not think about it. I'm ready to eat and a romance novel is calling my name. Bed and book for me tonight."
3
"P ull over!" Abbie hollered at Becka the next day. It was late morning. They'd come up with an idea to go back to Cissie's house, after convincing Coy to mind the Teashop for half an hour.
No time to waste they'd jumped into Becka's GMC truck and headed to the real estate agent's car. "Look!" She pointed at a driveway across the street.
Logan Porter dragged a huge box from his car to the front door. He straightened, wiped his brow and looked to both sides before bending to pull the box again. They slouched down in their seats and waited until he finally managed to get the box inside.
"He's all sweaty now," Becka said with a wide grin. "Maybe you should go over there, knock and accidentally fall on top of him."
"He does look good glistening like that," Abbie said and then shook her head. "That's not why we're watching. We didn't sit here to see his muscles flex or his face glisten with sweat."
Becka scowled. "Really? Cause that's what I was doing."
"Think about it." Abbie motioned to her temple. "What's in the box? Why is he dragging a box into his house this time of day when he should be at his clinic?"
"Oh yeah," Becka said and slid another look to the vet's house. "No one would suspect a hunky new veterinarian of being the random thief. People would assume he creeps around yards because he's looking for strays."
"Exactly!" Abbie exclaimed and yanked the door open. "Come on, let's get a look. Maybe we can find out what's in the box."
Becka got out of the truck, rounded it and stopped. "I'm dressed too brightly. He'll spot me a mile away." Today she wore a fuchsia dress, lime green scarf and striped tights. "I'll hide and you peek in."
“Change it to muted colors.”
Becka paled. Damn okay. She waved her arms, turned in a circle and her dress became orange, her scarf yellow and her tights a combination of grey and beige. “How’s this?”
"You hide and I’ll peek," Abbie said silently praying Logan felt a sudden desire to take off his shirt.
They skulked across the street and flattened against the side of the house. The porch was high, which meant so were the windows. They slid closer only to see the window bottom was too high for them to peer in.
"Dang nab it," Becka said and jumped in an effort to look inside. "It's too darn high."
Spotting a cinder block, Abbie grabbed it and dragged it closer. "I'm going to balance on this and peek in. If I whistle, it means we're running and making a clean getaway cause we've been made."
"Maybe we should just make up something. Like that we're judging for the yard of the month.
Abbie let out a huff. "Okay that works. But I don't plan on getting caught." She set the cinder block up on its short side and stepped up on it. She wobbled until she held her arms out to get balance.
"Be still, I'll hold your legs," Becka whispered and put her hands on both sides of Abbie's thighs. "Move slowly so he won't see you."
Abbie leaned sideways and peered through the blinds. Logan sat on the floor cross-legged. Unfortunately, he still wore a shirt. He'd made short stacks of plates and cups on the floor and pulled another plate out. After inspecting it, he put it on top of a pile. Once again he returned to the box and this time he pulled out a wad of yellowed newspapers. Something must have crawled over his hand because he threw the paper down and scooted away from the box, his eyes darting all over the floor. Abbie couldn't help giggling at the hot guy being scared of a little bug.
She covered her mouth to muffle her laughter.
"What's so funny?" Becka asked.
"A bug scared him," Abbie told her. "He's digging out dishes...and...oh - oh."
Abbie tried to whistle, but all that came out was air. Logan came toward the window and she tried to scramble off the brick, but Becka held her legs tight.
When Logan lifted the window Abbie went into a full panic mode and pushed at Becka. "Let me go. We've been caught." Her elbow hit Becka on the side of the head.
"Ouch!" Becka cried and hit Abbie's leg, then realizing her mistake, she tried to catch her as she tumbled to the ground. Both fell in a heap under Logan's window.
The man watched, his eyes wide. "Don't move, I'll be right out. I have a first aid kit."
"Get off me," Abbie hissed pushing Becka off. She jumped to her feet and began hurriedly dusting her clothes off and ran her fingers through her hair.
Becka was slower, she took a moment to glare at the ground. "What the hell? I think I sprained my ass."
"I don't think you can sprain your butt. Get up, here he comes. You do the talking."
They stood next to each other. Becka pulled a small notebook and pen from somewhere in her multicolored outfit and looked to Logan with expectation.
He looked at them, and then at the cinder block, which lay on its side now.
"Sorry about that," Abbie said. "We're on the judging committee for yard of the month."
There was silence as they waited for him to say something. When he remained quiet Becka held up her notepad. "We didn't know you were home and heard noise, so thought we'd check and make sure someone didn't break in."
"My car is in the driveway," he pointed to his blue Dodge Charger.
"Oh is that what you drive?" Abbie attempted to flutter her lashes. "I thought you drove a white van."
Logan frowned. "Why would this yard be a contender. It's barely got any grass."
"A contender for what?" Becka asked and Abbie elbowed her. "Oh right. There's a competition for most improved. So next year, you might win that."
They moved backwards toward the street. Abbie gave him a bright smile. "See you soon. Stop by for a cup of coffee, it'll be free since we startled you."
He remained in the driveway scratching his head as they drove off. Abbie let out a breath. "I don't think he believed us."
"Oh he didn't, but he likes you so it's okay."
"You think so?" Abbie's chest felt lighter. "He is cute isn't he?"
Becka nodded and looked at the clock. "We better head back. You can drive by Cissie's on your way home. After the town hall meeting."
That evening by five, people were squeezed in the small auditorium at Whisper Library. The random thefts made for a full house. Abbie sat next to Coy who'd saved a seat for her.
Coy craned her neck to see who else walked in. "Haven't seen this many people since someone painted a pecker on the water tower."
"It was supposed to be a canon," Abbie said motioning for Becka and Gary to join them.
Becka leaned over and whispered into her ear. "Just had a quickie. I'm ready to go criminal hunting. All rev'ed up."
"Eew. Do you have to share every time?" Abbie snuck a look to Gary who had a goofy grin on his face. "Why do you two always have sex now?"
"Doctor said I have to exercise and lose weight. Sex burns more calories in five minutes than running will do in half an hour."
Abbie shrugged. "Oh yeah, that makes sense."
The mayor tapped on the microphone, leaned forward and the PA system screeched. Everyone began to talk at once about the sound. The mayor tapped again, everyone quieted and the PA system screeched again. After repeating it twice more, someone finally did something and the screeching stopped.
Clark Carter cleared his throat and the room quieted. Except for two women who knitted in the back and continued talking oblivious to being overheard. "Honey I would just use vinegar and rinse it out. Let him complain about the smell all he wants. I bet he'd rather not h
ave clogged pipes."
Someone laughed and Clark gave a droll look. "Good evening. By the large number of citizens here, it's obvious the recent rash of thefts alarms everyone. I wish to assure you that the Whisper County deputies are working diligently to find whoever is responsible for this. Once we do, I will personally push for swift and harsh punishment."
The room went silent.
The cicadas outside seemed to get louder and Becka snorted when she tried not to laugh.
Clark continued. "With that said. Deputy Kiser would like to give you some pointers to avoid being targets." He looked to Jimmy who straightened and moved to stand in front of the microphone.
While Jimmy Kiser talked about locking windows and bringing expensive items like lawn chairs inside, Abbie searched the room for Cissie. She stood to the side, near a doorway, her arms crossed, on her face a look like that of a cat that just finished off a full bowl of cream. She nudged Becka. "Take a look at Cissie, tell me she doesn't look guilty."
"Uh-huh," Becka agreed watching the woman.
Just then old lady Mrs. Grundy whacked her cane on the mayor's podium. "You can't catch this thief. Too crafty. Too smart for the one and a half deputies we got in this sorry town." She got to her feet, wobbled a bit until someone reached out and steadied her. She glared at the good Samaritan and whirled to face the mayor and deputy. "I tell you what is needed. A new city council." For effect she lifted her right hand like a magician. "Since I was voted off as head chairman of the festival committee, not only will the Whisper Festival Day go to hell in a hand basket, but a crafty thief is stealing us blind!"
Once again the sound of the cicadas seemed to crescendo as everyone looked around in obvious discomfort. The mayor tapped the microphone again.
"Thank you Mrs. Grundy. Anyone else?" He looked visibly relieved when Coy raised her hand.
