She took my hands and held them. It was awful of me, but I internally cringed from the handkerchief pressing against my palm. “Thank you for coming. You must understand how I feel.” She glanced around the room. “Of everyone here, you must understand the most.”
Losing someone you cared about was hard. She’d shared a life with George. They had a daughter together, and even though their marriage hadn’t survived, those things meant something. It still connected them somehow, and now she was all alone. “If there’s anything I can do.”
She smiled softly and whispered, “Thank you.”
Max stuck by my side during the short service outside at George’s final resting place. A large marble tombstone sat behind the open ground.
Max whispered, “It’s unusual to have the stone ready this quickly.”
“Not really. Sam’s was ready the day after we buried him. Money has a way of speeding up processes.” I carefully examined everyone standing around the gravesite, scrutinizing their faces, their posture, looking for any signs of a killer, as if I’d know one when I saw him.
Forest Grove Cemetery was the perfect place to lay a body to rest. Brian McDougal picked the location because of the rolling hills and picturesque landscape. He left a good portion of the trees at the edge of the property, giving the space a secluded, private feel. He’d also strategically planted new trees and shrubs around the plots and small winding roads. A few years before his death, Sam and I walked the cemetery searching for the perfect spot for us in what we thought would be many, many years. We’d gone to too many funerals there, and I thought it was silly at the time, but Sam was a planner and wanted to make sure I didn’t have to go through those kinds of details if something happened to him.
Two years later. I watched them place his coffin in the ground.
We did find the perfect plots on the top of a small hill laced with red and white rose bushes. It was stunning how, for part of the year, the sun set behind it, outlining the small hill with a soft, warm glow. Sam was far from George’s final resting place, and my eyes instinctively shifted toward him.
Off to the side, was a small cluster of crepe myrtle trees. The thin, multi-branched trees hibernated during the colder months, leaving their branches barren and making it easy to see through them.
I spotted a woman standing between the trees, watching the burial. She was dressed in all black, that I could tell. But just like the car in my driveway, she was far enough away that even squinting, I couldn’t see her clearly.
I nudged Max in the arm and whispered, “Look between the trees over there.” I flicked my head to the side hoping he’d understand which direction to look.
“Who is that?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see well enough, but it’s definitely a woman.”
“Yes, but I can’t tell who.”
Brian finished his prayer, and friends and family threw roses onto George’s coffin. The crowd moved enough that I lost sight of the woman, and when I looked again, she was gone.
Everyone drove slowly back to the funeral home while the limousine waited for Susan at George’s grave. She placed a rose on her daughter’s grave and buried her head into her hands.
Max and I stood at our cars. “You heading back to the funeral home?” he asked.
“I’d like to visit Sam.”
“Oh, yes. Of course. Would you like me to go with you?”
I shook my head. “I’m okay but thank you for offering.”
He nodded. “You going to the shelter after?”
“The shelter must go on.”
He grinned at my poorly executed joke. “I’ll check in later then?”
I watched Max drive off and mentally prepared myself for my visit with Sam. I’d taken two roses meant for George, and though I’d placed one over his coffin, I saved the other for Sam. I laid it on the grass above him. I knew Sam wasn’t there, that what made Sam had gone to heaven, but knowing his body lie beneath me gave me a bit of comfort. Even though our souls weren’t together, our bodies were close, and that meant something.
I talked to him for a bit, telling him about Hayden and Justin, knowing he’d be pleased they were giving their relationship another go.
I told him about George and Cindy, and I asked him what he thought. “Who am I kidding? I know what you’d say. You’d ask if I had any little feelings about it.” I sighed. “The thing is, I don’t.” I sat with him a while, the ground cold under my long coat. Finally, I said a prayer for him and pressed my hand into the grass. “Stay warm, babe.”
I walked back to my car, passing George’s plot on the way. The tent was still up, and they’d yet to complete the burial process. I figured they’d take care of that after everyone was gone.
I drove the winding road back to the parking lot of the funeral home, and as I did, I noticed a blue car parked off one of the turns from the path. I recognized the car immediately. It was the one leaving my driveway. I looped around and took the connecting side street from the other side knowing I’d pass right next to the car to get back to the main road.
The license plate was missing, replaced with a simple piece of cardboard with the words license applied for written on it.
“It figures.” At least I knew I was right before. It was a Honda, an older model Civic.
I glanced at its right side and saw nothing out of the ordinary. No markings, no dents. I checked the rearview mirror, but there weren’t any distinguishable marks on the front of the car, but it was missing the driver’s side mirror.
I took my phone from my purse and called Justin, but my call went to voicemail. “Of all the times,” I said. “Justin, I found the blue car. It’s at the cemetery. It’s a blue Honda Civic. No plates, and it’s missing a driver’s side mirror.” I examined the area. “Near the large monument for the Henderson family. Call me back.”
I didn’t know what to do. If the car was there, the person driving it had to be, too. I took my gun from my purse and placed it on the seat next to me. I stayed in my car, driving ahead, hoping the owner either didn’t see, or didn’t know it was me driving by.
Other than a few volunteers clearing the old flowers from graves, the cemetery was empty.
Justin called back. “Are you still there?”
“Yes. What should I do?”
“Leave. Whoever owns the car may have seen you.”
“I know, I thought of that, but I don’t see anyone except the women that clean up the old flowers.”
“Listen to me, Missy. Please. Come to the station. I’ll have someone waiting, and I’ll call you in a bit.”
He disconnected the call before I had a chance to tell him I would go to the shelter. The shelter would be safe. There were several volunteers there, and if the person who left the bomb did see me, they’d have a hard time getting out of the cemetery without their car. I had some time. I could pick up the dogs first and then go to the station if I hadn’t heard from Justin.
Chapter 10
Mary tapped on the office window. “Glad you’re here. We got three new intakes today. Kerry’s with one, but you might need to work your magic on the poor thing. He’s really struggling.”
She didn’t know about the bomb incident, and I decided to tell her later because I knew she’d worry more about me than the dogs, and the dogs needed her more than I did. “I need to change and check on Allie and Bandit, but then I’ll go check and see what’s going on.”
“Thanks. I’m giving the other two baths. Don’t want another flea issue like before.”
I agreed. “Please God, no. Allie and Bandit are here. They’d hate me if they had two baths in a row.”
I’d brought a pair of jeans, a camisole, and a sweater along with a pair of Timberland boots for after the funeral. I heard a car pull into the lot and adjusted the blinds on the window in case someone could see in. It took me a few minutes to change, and when I finished, I went back to the office to grab some of the special dog cookies in the jar on the desk.
&nbs
p; Mary walked out of the cat lounge and into the office.
“Thought you were going in back?”
“I was.” She pulled off a pair of leather garden gloves. “But I had to break up a cat fight first.”
“Fun.”
“Most of the volunteers are outside with the dogs. Barely anyone’s here today. We have two with them, and two in the intake rooms. I think some of them are afraid to come back because of the flea issue.”
“I can understand that. Kerry’s the best we’ve got for the intakes though, so that’s good.”
She smiled. “She is. I’m glad to see Beth Logan here, too. She’s really gone through a lot, but I think coming here helps, you know?”
“I don’t know what happened to her.”
“What do you mean? You’re the one that told me first.”
I cocked my head. “I don’t—what? Am I missing something?”
“Her stepbrother. He’s the one that shot Sophie Watson and then shot himself.”
My eyes widened. “What? Who–how do you know that?”
“She came in the other day and she seemed, I don’t know, upset I guess. I asked her if something was wrong. She said George’s death brought back a lot of feelings she thought she’d processed.”
“I didn’t know Beth was Bobby’s stepsister.”
“You didn’t? Oh, I thought you did.”
Beth had come to town after Bobby Watson killed himself. I didn’t know how long after, but I’d seen her at Riverwoods and the shelter. I darted to the front door and flung it open.
The blue Honda Civic with the missing drivers side mirror sat in the corner of the parking lot. I rushed back to the office window. “Where is Beth? Where’d you put her?”
“In the intake rooms, why?”
I grabbed my cell phone from my purse and unlocked it. “Call Justin Johns and tell him the blue Civic is here, and it’s Beth Logan. Tell him she’s Bobby Hall’s stepsister.” To get outside to the turfed area, Mary could either walk through the kennels and loop around out back or go straight out the front door. I didn’t want her near the intake rooms, and I needed her outside, safe, and to make sure the other volunteers stayed out there, too. “Then go outside, and don’t let anyone in.”
“Missy, what’s going on?”
“Beth, she killed George.” I grabbed my gun from my purse and stuffed it into the back of my jeans. “Please, call Justin.”
I bolted out of the office to find Kerry, not responding to Mary’s pleas to stop.
The kenneled dogs heard everything, and to stop their constant barking, we kept the door to the hallway leading to the intake rooms and kennels closed. I carefully twisted the handle, trying so hard not to make a sound. I didn’t want the dogs to hear me.
The door was old, and creaked as I pushed it open, setting off the chorus of dogs. As I pulled it shut, I heard Beth laugh.
“Oh no, that’s okay. Don’t leave,” she said. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Kerry stood in front of her with Beth’s arm wrapped around her neck. Her eyes as big as saucers. “Missy, help me—”
Beth tucked her forearm under Kerry’s chin. “I told you to keep quiet.” She flicked the gun toward the intake door beside her. “In here.”
I shut the door behind me and caught a glimpse of the little terrier mix shivering in the corner.
Beth and Kerry followed behind me. She shuffled along the side of the exam table, dragging Kerry with her and pressed her back against the wall. “Close the door and lock it.”
I reached back and twisted the lock but twisted it back again and took a step back hoping to block Beth’s view.
She wiggled the gun at me and then at the wall on my right, the opposite side of the terrier. “Stand over there.” She pointed the gun at Kerry’s head. Kerry gasped and tears fell down her cheeks.
“Beth, please. You don’t have to do this.”
She sucked in a breath. “Yes, yes, I do. You know. You saw at the funeral. I’m sorry, but I…it has to be this way.”
I kept my voice low and steady. “Please, let her go. We can talk this through, okay?”
She shook her head and tightened her arm around Kerry. “In the trees. I saw you staring at me in the trees. You even pointed me out to Max Hoover. I was watching you. I saw you.”
“Okay, okay. Yes, I saw someone in the trees, but I didn’t know it was you, and Max couldn’t see clearly enough either.” I gripped the sides of my legs to stop my hands from shaking.
“Keep your hands up. I don’t want to kill her, but I will if I have to.”
“Beth, please.”
Tears fell from her eyes. “I should have never told you about volunteering at the women’s shelter.” She laughed, but it was a hopeless, frustrated one. “You caught on then, didn’t you?” Her nose dripped and she quickly wiped it with the arm holding the gun. “That’s why you had lunch with that witch Cindy Truelson at Riverwoods. You wanted to make me uncomfortable. See if I would break.”
I raised my hands slowly. “I…I—”
She pressed the gun into Kerry’s head. “Put your hands down.”
I did as she asked. “Okay. It’s good. We’re good.” I cleared my throat. “Did you kill Cindy to frame me?”
She laughed, but that one was pure evil. “She deserved to die.
She squeezed her eyes shut. I made eye contact with Kerry, ready to make a move to get the gun, but I couldn’t. Beth shook her head and pressed the gun against Kerry’s head. “Just…just stay there.”
I stepped back and waved my hands toward the ground. “Okay. Okay.”
“I’ll kill her. I will.”
“Okay. I’m not moving. See? Stiff as a board.”
“You stay there.” She sucked in another breath, like she was trying to control her crying, but struggling.
“Beth, tell me what happened to Cindy Truelson.”
“She doesn’t care about people. She just cares about money. She wanted that stupid shelter moved. I heard her talking to George about it at the fundraiser. She wanted to build some big thing with fancy apartments to make a buck off of. I talked to her. I asked her to put something else there. Something that would help people like Bobby, but she wouldn’t listen. She said my brother deserved to die.” She shifted her stance and pulled Kerry over to her right side. The little dog barked in the corner. “Shut up, dog.”
“It wasn’t his fault. He was sick. He didn’t understand. Nobody understood. He loved her. I know he didn’t mean to kill her, and that’s why he killed himself, because he couldn’t live with what’d he’d done.”
“Your stepbrother terrorized Sophie.”
Her head bobbed up and down frantically. “See, I knew you knew. All that fake talk, acting like you liked me. You’re just like them.” The gun shook in her hand. “I won’t let my brother be remembered as a killer.”
“Beth, give me the gun. Your brother wouldn’t want you to do this.”
“Yeah, yeah, he would. Because he didn’t mean it, I know he didn’t mean it. And George Watson acted like his daughter was so special. Like Bobby meant nothing. I lost someone, too. My life changed forever because that girl wouldn’t help my brother, and now he’s dead. And big George Watson just makes it all about his kid, and people listened because he’s rich and smart, and nobody cares about people like me, like my family. Nobody even tries to understand. My brother was sick, and those women at the shelter? They’re idiots. I volunteered there. I saw them, and I saw George. He thought they were all innocent. That they didn’t deserve what happened to them, they did. If just one of them tried to help their man, maybe their lives would have turned out different. You know? If Sophie would have supported Bobby instead of pushing him out of her life, maybe they’d both be alive, and they could still be together even. Have a family, be happy. He just needed help.”
Beth was as sick as her stepbrother. “I can get you help, Beth. Just let Kerry go, and I’ll take you to the hospital myself. Okay? How abou
t it? I’ll get you help, and I’ll make sure the police understand.”
“I don’t need help.”
A barking chorus echoed through the walls. Someone was inside the kennel. It had to be Justin. Kerry and I stared at each other. I edged a centimeter closer to the door. The little terrier scurried over to me and leaned against my leg.
“I told you not to move!”
I froze. “He’s scared Beth. Just like Manny was when you adopted him, remember?”
She blinked.
“I’m just going to pet him, okay?”
She watched me closely as I pet the dog. The barking hadn’t stopped, and I tried to listen for the sound of people, but I couldn’t hear anything over the barking. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t reach for my gun. I couldn’t take that chance.
“Get up,” Beth said.
I stood slowly, watching Beth’s head shift back and forth. “Those damn dogs. I…I can’t think.”
I made eye contact with Kerry and then I charged toward the exam table, pushing it toward the women with all of my strength. Beth growled and the two of them fell to the ground. Beth didn’t let go of the gun, but I had the advantage.
I whipped my gun out from the back of my jeans and pointed it straight at her head. “It’s over Beth.”
She moved, and I stopped her. “Don’t. I’m not afraid to shoot you.”
Justin kicked the door open, pointing his gun inside.
He moved aside to let the two officers behind him in. “Cuff her,” he said, pointing at Beth. As the officers flipped Beth onto her stomach, Justin stuffed his gun back into the holster on his side.
My hands shook, Justin carefully took my gun, clicked the safety on, and put it in the side of his belt. “Hayden’s gonna kill me.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Bobby Hall’s stepsister.” Max leaned against the ambulance. “How come nobody knew that?”
“Bobby didn’t take his stepfather’s last name. That’s why we didn’t make the connection.”
“You were right. It was about love. I feel sorry for her.”
Hounds, Harvest, and Homicide Page 14
