“I asked around and he was here yesterday. Morring verified they were in a meeting around the time Cindy died.”
I ran my hand through my hair. “Morring? You trust what he says?”
“Barrett didn’t kill them, Missy.” He pulled up a chair from his small table and sat facing me. “I know you want to know what happened, but you can’t go around accusing people of murder. It’s not good for your reputation, and more importantly, your safety.”
He was right. I had to stop accusing people of murder, at least out loud, but I wouldn’t stop trying to find the killer. I couldn’t.
I spent the rest of the day at the shelter. I bathed six of the dogs and found fleas on two.
Mary groaned. “No, please. I don’t have time for that.”
“I’m sure some of the volunteers will come in if we call them.”
Fleas meant a thorough cleaning of the kennel area, and by thorough I meant a full spray of flea killer, then a complete wipe down of the spray—of every single object in the kennel—beds and blankets washed, and baths for every dog.
The dogs would need to stay outside until we finished the kennels and they had their baths. Kerry and I hung out on the turf area, but we had to leave the ones with social issues in the outside kennels. I felt awful, but there were just too many dogs to give them the extra attention they needed. I heard volunteers arriving, heard their car engines, their tires rotating on the almost cleared parking lot, and finally, their doors shut. I relaxed a bit knowing things would get done.
A volunteer came out to relieve one of us from doggie sitting.
“You go,” Kerry said. She realized that meant I’d be cleaning kennels. “If you don’t mind?”
“Not a bit.”
I counted eight volunteers inside cleaning cages, floors, and every surface the flea bombs could touch. I checked the sign in sheet for a quick rundown of their names. I recognized two. A few of the volunteers cleaned the kennels without face masks, but not me. That stuff always did a number on my lungs.
“Hey, I didn’t realize you were on the volunteer list.”
Stacy Halstead handed me a fresh cloth and a bucket of clean water. “I didn’t either.”
A volunteer dumped his bucket of water into the large metal sink and set it inside another one on the floor. Stacy handed him a fresh one with a clean cloth. “But I’d volunteered a few years ago, and I’m on a list somewhere.”
“Thanks for coming. We definitely need the help.”
“I don’t mind at all.” She lowered her voice. “I’m hoping it’ll take my mind off Cindy.”
“I’m sorry. It must be hard for you.”
“I feel awful for thinking she killed George. Now she’s gone, and I’ll never be able to apologize for that.”
“Did she know you suspected her?”
“I couldn’t tell her that, but I know I did, and I have to live with that.”
“I’m sorry.” There was nothing more I could say, not then anyway. Stacy needed time to deal with her feelings, and she may carry that guilt with her for a while. When someone we care about dies, it’s hard to put aside the if only’s and had I’s. The guilt can be overwhelming.”
“I am, too.”
“I’m sure the police will find her killer soon.”
“Killer? Cindy drove off the road.”
“The police think someone forced her.”
“They…they think someone killed Cindy?”
“I don’t have all the details, but yes.”
She held her hand to her mouth and gasped. “That’s awful.” Tears slid down her cheeks, and she wiped them with her sweatshirt sleeve. “Do you think it’s the same person that killed George?”
“They’re treating it as a separate investigation, but that’s really all I know.”
“How can they think that?”
“I don’t know. They really won’t tell me much of anything.”
“Even your friend?”
I nodded. “They know I was with Cindy before she died. They even asked for my alibi.”
“Oh, gosh, that’s my fault. I told them she’d had lunch with you. I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. You did the right thing.”
Her eyes glazed over as she stared toward the back wall of the kennel. “Cindy was a good person. I mean, sure, there were people that didn’t like her, but I can’t imagine they’d want her dead.”
“Did you tell the police that?”
“They only asked about her schedule. It…it didn’t cross my mind.”
“I’m sure they’re going to want to talk to you again. Would you like me to call them for you?”
She handed another bucket full of water and clean cloth to a volunteer. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
Mary asked me to handle the incoming volunteers, so I stayed in the lobby explaining the situation and giving them their assignments as they arrived.
“Beth, thank you for coming. You don’t have to work today?”
“It’s my one day off a week.”
“And you came to help? Thank you for that.”
She hesitated. “The women that called said you’ve got fleas? I mean, I want to help, but am I going to have to treat Manny or anything? I don’t really have the money for that.”
“We’re still washing dogs, but the flea shampoo and treatments should kill any on them, and we’ve already bombed the kennel. Mostly we just need people to help clean everything and get it all set up again. I think you’ll be fine.”
“Um, well…” She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her heavy coat. “Okay.” She scribbled her name on the sign in sheet.
“Here.” I reached out to her. “Let me take your coat. I’ll put it in back. That way it won’t have the flea bomb smell when you leave.”
She stepped back. “No, I’m fine. I’m uh, a little cold still.”
I nodded. I gave her an assignment and sent her off.
Twenty-five minutes later, through the office window, I watched as Detective Bruno pulled into the shelter parking lot with Justin trailing along behind him.
When he saw me, the detective pursed his lips. “What a surprise. Ms. Kingston’s here.”
I cringed. “Stacy asked me to call you.”
“Of course she did.”
Justin smiled at the cats in the cat lounge. “I need to get me one of those.”
“Hayden’s allergic.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“Now you do. I’ll grab Stacy.” I headed to the kennel area and waved her over.
“Will you stay with me? I don’t like talking to the police.”
“Sure.”
Detective Bruno took notes as Stacy detailed out the few people she thought might have issues with the Cindy. “What about the mayor? How was her relationship with him?”
“Tense. She hadn’t made it official yet, but Cindy planned to run against him in the next election.”
Detective Bruno had taken me seriously, or at least considered my theory, more than I’d thought. “Um, the mayor was in a meeting when Cindy died.”
Justin dropped his head back and groaned, while Detective Bruno’s eyebrows practically hit his slightly receding hair line.
“Max told me,” I said, leaving out my little run in with Mayor Barrett.
Bruno nodded to Stacy. “Thank you for the information, Ms. Halstead. We’ll look into it.”
“Um, Detective, do you think the person that killed George Watson killed Cindy?”
“We’ve already made an arrest in the Watson case, ma’am.”
“Yes, but Cindy and George knew the same people, and isn’t it possible their murders are related?”
Bruno shifted his eyes to mine and furrowed his brow. I bit my lip. He looked back at Stacy. “We’ll look into it, ma’am.”
As the two men turned to leave, Justin watched the cats once again. “Bruno, go on without me. I’m thinking I might look at a few of the cats.”
“Co
ps get dogs, not cats, Johns, but you do you.” He laughed as he walked out the door.
Stacy stood there for a moment. I flicked my head toward the kennel door.
“If there’s nothing else,” she said.
“No, I think it’s all good,” I said.
“Great. I’ll head on back to the kennels then.”
I stood next to Justin and giggled at the cats in the lounge. “You’re not here for a cat.”
“They’re pretty cute.”
“I’ve spent a lot of time with you over the years, and you’ve always said you wanted a dog.” I knew he hadn’t stayed to discuss cat adoptions. “So?”
He faced me. “How’d you find out the mayor’s alibi?”
I didn’t want to tell him of my meeting. “I asked Max to check his schedule. He said the mayor was in a meeting with Rick Morring.”
“So, it looks like your connection theory failed.”
“George needed that additional vote for the expansion, remember?”
“Yes.”
“I still think he went to Morring for that.”
“I thought you said you didn’t think Morring did it?”
“I’m not so sure now.” I spoke as the thought formulated in my brain. “What if he and the mayor planned the whole thing and made themselves each other’s alibi?”
He laughed. “You and your theories.”
I sighed.
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but maybe it’s time to leave this to us. Looks like it’s pretty busy here now anyway.”
“Because I still think whoever killed George killed Cindy, too. I don’t understand how the detective can’t see that.”
“I know, but I can.”
“That’s because you’re a cop. You all think alike.”
“No, I meant I can see the two might be connected.”
My eyes widened. “You do, really?”
“I can see it’s possible, but that doesn’t mean it’s how things went down.”
I didn’t get home until after midnight. Allie and Bandit gave me the cold shoulder the whole ride home because they’d been subjected to flea baths. Neither liked baths of any kind, but most dogs didn’t. I apologized profusely but to no avail. That night, in rebellion, they slept on their beds in the keeping room instead of upstairs with me.
There was a message on my cell from Stacy the next morning. “Missy, thank you so much for helping me yesterday. I appreciate it. I know I’ve dragged you into a hot mess, and I’m sorry for that, but I think Cindy would be happy to know someone other than me cares about what happened.”
I doubted Cindy would appreciate me caring about what happened.
I fed the dogs and scrambled two eggs to divide up between their bowls. Rebellion aside, I felt awful for their ordeal. Other than inhaling his food, Bandit didn’t breathe until he finished. Allie took her time, savoring the egg pieces and licking her bowl completely clean.
I sipped my coffee and switched on the news, but I didn’t hear a thing they said. Filled with thoughts about the murders, I didn’t even hear my digital doorbell. Allie’s ferocious bark though, that I heard. I followed her to the door. “What’s got you spooked girl?”
I checked out the window and caught a glimpse of a blue car pulling down my driveway. I peeked at the porch floor and saw a box on the ground. Allie barked like crazy. Bandit had trucked outside immediately after eating, but when he heard Allie, came bursting through the dog door and slid into the back of my legs. He barked along with his sister.
I opened the door and picked up the package. “Pups, it’s okay. It’s just a delivery.” I closed the door and walked back to the kitchen. The box wasn’t labeled, there was nothing on it. No postage, no handle with care stickers, nothing. It was just a small taped moving box.
I stared at it on the kitchen counter.
Women have an intuitiveness men don’t. Maybe since we carried and then raised babies, we had some special sixth sense of something, I wasn’t sure. I just knew what I knew when I knew it. Sam never believed in that, but after years of ignoring my little feelings, as he called them, only for them to be right, he finally accepted the fact that for no reason whatsoever, sometimes I just knew things. I stepped back in time to one of those moments.
“Casey wants me to invest in a liquor store.”
“Okay.”
“So, do you think I should?”
“Are you asking me if I have a little feeling about it?”
He groaned “Yes, babe. Tell me what your psychic powers say.”
“I don’t have psychic powers.”
“Whatever you call it, it’s usually right whether I like it or not.”
“Ooh, can I get that on recording?”
“No.”
“You’re no fun.”
He stared at me with steely eyes. “Do you think I should?”
“No, I don’t.”
Sam didn’t invest in the liquor store, and when it went under six months later, he thanked me for my little feeling.
That little feeling told me not to open the box and call the police, so I called Justin.
He answered the phone on the first ring. “What’s up?”
“Someone just delivered a box to my front door.”
“And?”
“And there’s nothing on it. No postage, no labels, nothing. Before eight o’clock in the morning.”
“Did you touch it?”
“I brought it inside.”
“Was it heavy?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe a pound? Should I pick it up—”
“Just leave it where it is. Are any sounds coming from it?”
I hesitated, but I leaned down and put my ear close to the box. “No.”
“Okay, this is what I want you to do, and I mean it, okay?”
“I’m listening.”
“I need you to get out of the house. Get in your car and drive to the street. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Do you think it’s a—”
“Missy, go. Now.”
He disconnected the call. I grabbed my coat but before heading to the garage, grabbed a family photo off the fireplace mantel. “Come on pups, let’s go.”
I stood leaning against my car with my arms wrapped around my coat waiting. I heard the sirens before I saw the trucks.
I told a fireman where the box was, and before pulling over on the road, he said, “Thanks, ma’am. The bomb squad is on the way. We’re here just in case.”
Just in case my house blows up, I thought. Years of memories, pictures of Sam, things of his I’d yet to donate, were inside. My life, my family…I couldn’t lose it all.
Justin swung his car around the fire engine and jumped out as a black truck parked behind him. Men dressed in black suits resembling costumes from a science fiction movie slammed out of the back of the truck and took off running toward the house, carrying heavy packs along with them.
The dogs barked.
My eyes welled up with tears. “I can’t lose my house, Justin.”
He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tight. “I know. I know. They’ll take care of it. You’re not going to lose your house Missy, I promise.”
I held onto Justin squeezing as hard as I could. He understood.
“Missy, are you okay?”
I let go of Justin and gave Max a quick hug. “How did you—”
“Justin called me. He thought I should be here for you.”
The five minutes it took the bomb squad to diffuse the bomb felt like five hours.
One of the men explained what they’d found. “We see those kinds of bombs a lot in insurance fraud cases. They’re easy to get, and not that complicated to make if you’re good with your hands. Glad you made that call ma’am. Had you waited a few more minutes, it would have been too late.”
Max kept me steady with his strong hands on my shoulders.
“It was my dog. She heard the bell. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“G
ive that dog a treat then, ma’am. He deserves it.” He smiled at me and then walked back to his truck.
I couldn’t move. My body trembled and a chill ran up my spine, overwhelming me enough my entire body shivered uncontrollably.
“Missy?” Max voice echoed from a distance. “Missy? Are you okay?”
“I’m…I’m…” I tried to focus on Max, but I could barely see him, his body morphing into a curved mass of muted colors. “Max, I…”
And then everything went black.
Chapter 8
A bright light burned into my left eye. I tried to block it, but something forced my hands away. “It’s okay,” a man whispered. “I’m just checking your pupils, Ms. Kingston. Everything’s going to be fine.”
The light disappeared, and I opened my eyes to a mouth full of crooked teeth and a fat, red nose. “Where am I?”
“You’re in the ambulance, ma’am,” the toothy man said.
“It’s okay Missy,” Max’s voice was soft and calm.
“Max.” I followed the sound of his voice and turned my head. “What happened?”
He squeezed my hand. “You fainted. The nice paramedic here says you’re in shock, but you’re going to be fine.”
I removed the little mask on my mouth, but the paramedic with the teeth put it right back on. “Let’s keep that right there, okay? We’ll let the hospital decide if you need it.”
“Hospital? You’re taking me to the hospital?”
“Don’t worry,” Max said. “I’ll come along.”
“It’s procedure, ma’am, and I’m sorry, but unless you’re family sir, you’ll have to drive yourself.”
I grabbed Max’s hand. “He’s family.”
Max smiled down at me. “It’s okay. I should have my car there anyway. You’ll need a ride home.” He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. “I’ll see you there.”
I tried to push myself up, but the paramedic stopped me. “My dogs.”
Max smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of them.”
City council members had pull around town, and Max used that pull to have me seen by the doctor right away. I didn’t know any of that until days later, but according to Justin, Max had been my hero that night, and I believe him.
Hounds, Harvest, and Homicide Page 12
