4 A Dead Mother

by Anna Celeste Burke

  “On the prowl?”

  “The guy was a real wolf. A pack leader. It’s no wonder he’s good at handling dogs.”

  “That’s not good for his prey. I’ve heard he was seeing Beverly’s daughter.”

  “Oh yes. Beverly wasn’t happy about it, either. He sold her a bill of goods about helping Leslie overcome her fear of dogs and used that to make himself a boy toy.”

  “Wow! I never would have pegged Leslie as a woman who would fall for a guy like that,” I exclaimed. Especially given how much she had objected to the idea of her mother getting hooked up with Cedric Baumgartner. He and Matthew Whitaker struck the same dissonant chord in my head.

  “He’s a good-looking guy and she can afford him. Dogs seem to like him. Unlike that mother of his who’s a real Cruella de Vil, if you know what I mean?”

  An image of the dark-haired woman with the red fingernails popped into my head. I’m not sure why. If my memory served me well, that Disney cartoon character had flashy, two-toned hair and wore long red gloves.

  “I guess the dog-whisperer hasn’t been too successful teaching his mother how to overcome her fear of dogs.”

  “She’s not the least bit afraid—just can’t stand them. Susan Whitaker’s ready to fight rather than run. She could do some damage with those claws of hers, too, if she decided to do it.”

  “She’s not the one who hurt Anastasia, is she?”

  “That thought occurred to me, but Beverly never mentioned that Matthew brought his mother along when he trained Anastasia in her home. Mommy Dearest attended some of his public demonstrations and group lessons. I never saw her mix with the dogs, though. She was too busy schmoozing with the crowd, promoting her son, and basking in the glory of his celebrity.”

  “Wow. She’s a real gem, isn’t she?” I hated to do it, but that list in my head of suspects now had another name on it. Rikki might not want another one, either. Technically, Matthew Whitaker was already sort of on it. In addition to training Anastasia, he’d worked as a dog sitter for Beverly Windsor, on occasion. In fact, it was through the Haute Hounds service that Beverly had first met Matthew Whitaker, according to Lucy Daniels. That meant he had a key and it wouldn’t be much of a stretch to assume his mother had access to it.

  For the life of me, I couldn’t fathom how she might be tied into the murder of Beverly Windsor or what she could have been searching for in Beverly’s house. The two of them could have killed Beverly if Susan Whitaker was in the backseat and her son behind the wheel. From that picture, the well-muscled young man would have had the strength to shove Beverly from the car with enough force to send her rolling into a roadside ditch. Why not get Rikki to run a check to see if Matthew or his mother owned a late model Chevy Impala? When we arrived home, I called and left a message for Rikki asking her to call me.

  I could do a little snooping on the Internet or maybe I’d ask Kim to do that, too. Maybe the Chevy Impala would be parked nearby at one of Matthew Whitaker’s many public appearances. Not tonight, though, since we already had a mission scheduled.

  “I’m going to fix us some snacks for the road. One for Peter’s crew, too, so Brien won’t starve.”

  “Good idea. Plenty of cookies, too, that we can use to lure David Madison out of his cabin, right? I’m thinking if we can use those cookies to get inside, if he eats enough of them they may also lull him into a stupor long enough to pack him up and move him somewhere safer.”

  When I’d changed my clothes, with the lovely Anastasia lounging on the foot of my bed, I thought about how easy it had been to strike up conversations at the dog park. Or, just about anywhere I went with Anastasia prancing at the end of her leash. I couldn’t remember a single person who’d avoided us out of fear or who’d given Anastasia a dirty look. Walking a dog was like an open invitation to a party. Maybe that’s what I needed to get close enough to the cabin in the woods where I could have a little heart-to-heart with David Madison.

  “Let’s get some snacks for you, too, undercover dog.”

  30 A Cabin in the Woods

  It was nearly five o’clock when our “undercover team,” as Bernadette continued to call it, assembled in the circular driveway in front of my house. Bernadette had backed the SUV out of the garage. She’d already loaded snacks, a cooler full of drinks including water for Anastasia, and a blanket as though we were going on a picnic. Anastasia had jumped into the backseat and sat there with a big, happy grin on her face.

  When Peter arrived a few minutes later, Bernadette brought out an almost identical pack full of snacks and a second cooler. Brien was riding “shotgun” as he did whenever he accompanied Peter on a security ride-along. Peter slid out of the driver’s seat of the nondescript black SUV as soon as he spotted Bernadette loaded down like that.

  Kim, who was in the backseat, jumped out to help Bernadette. The security associate Peter had assigned to us had been sitting near our front door. He had also rushed to assist Bernadette, still chewing as he did, having left behind a plate of goodies the thoughtful woman had prepared for him.

  Brien was the last to disembark. When he did, he drew a round of gasps. Not just because he stumbled and had to struggle to avoid falling onto the ground. He was dressed, head to t0e, in camouflage with odd-looking goggles strapped onto his head. Tufts of blond hair protruded here and there adding to the bizarre effect.

  “You’re supposed to be incognito, Brien. Not inconsciente, which is what could happen if you fall and knock yourself out.”

  “I already told him not to mess with those goggles. They’re expensive with night vision capabilities, among other things. It’s not nighttime, in case you haven’t noticed. Besides, you don’t need to be any more conspicuous than you already are in that getup.”

  “He had on regular clothes when he went to run errands before our mission started,” Kim added. Brien was still wearing the goggles and was moving his head at awkward angles. “A stranger in a strange land.”

  “I sure hope they work better at night than they do now, or you should ask for your money back,” Brien said staring over the hood of the car at Peter. Peter took a step toward the front of the car, going to get those goggles from him, I guess. He stopped when a horn honked and a pickup pulled into the driveway behind Peter’s SUV.

  All eyes turned toward that truck. Another round of gasps followed when Tommy jumped from the passenger seat almost before it had come to a complete stop. That wasn’t the only reason for our surprise. I’m pretty sure I heard Peter’s guy say, “I thought I’d seen it all.”

  “Whoa, fine minds, Dude!” Brien called out. He’d slid those goggles up on top of his head where they stood up like the horn buds on a young ram or a billy goat. That fine minds comment referred to the fact that Tommy was dressed in desert combat fatigues, too. A matching baseball cap on his head instead of goggles, and he sported a bright orange bandana tied around his neck.

  “I tried to convince him not to do it,” Jerry said as he climbed out of the driver’s seat and stood beside Tommy. The ever-sensible PI was dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and a long-sleeved flannel shirt.

  “What? It needed something. Otherwise, it’s so drab,” Tommy said as he tugged at the bandana. “I got one for Anastasia, too. She needs to hide the bling if she’s going undercover with us.”

  “How did this happen?” I wondered aloud. Before I could explain, or anyone could ask me what I meant, a car pulled up. It’s a good thing this driveway is a big one. I recognized Laura’s new Prius immediately.

  “Hey, I’m sorry I’m late,” she said as she exited her car. Laura was wearing dark navy-blue scrubs. “I had to stop and buy a couple of things to restock my first aid kit.” She reached into the backseat of her car and pulled out a parka and a red nylon pack with “First Responder” written on it in bold white letters.

  “Thank goodness, you’re here, Laura!” Bernadette rushed toward her answering that earlier question I’d posed about who had organized the posse.

  “Nurse Stone
reporting for duty,” Laura announced, saluting Bernadette before greeting her with a kiss.

  “You never know when a mission will go sideways,” Bernadette added when she saw my mouth gaping. I stared at the petite woman who was on the move again.

  “Let me get the bait and we’re outta here,” she cried. “Tommy and Jerry, you’re with us.”

  “Yay!” Tommy clapped. “Poodle duty!” He pulled out the bandana he’d brought for Anastasia as he climbed in next to her.

  “Kim and Laura, get in with Peter and Brien.” As she issued that command, she loaded another snack pack into the open bay of her Escalade. This one had a big red bow on it. I shook my head wondering when the soap opera I’d been living had become a sitcom.

  “Hey, at least it’ll be dark by the time we get to Lake Arrowhead. Unless he stands under a lamppost you won’t be able to see that bright orange thingy at all,” Peter said.

  “Yeah, well, I want to see how you’re going to keep those night vision goggles away from the GI Joe dude.” Peter had a hearty laugh as he got into his SUV.

  “Get in, Jessica. Peter set the coordinates for us. Let’s roll.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I replied, saluting as Laura had done.

  It was indeed dark when we arrived at a truck stop near our destination. The drive had been uneventful, although Brien and Tommy both had bouts of the “are we there yet syndrome” like a couple of kids. The men had fled to the restrooms. I’d complimented Bernadette before taking Anastasia for a short walk. “Good plan, keeping Tommy and Brien apart.”

  “There’s no telling what those two would do cooped up in a small space like that for almost two hours. That would be asking for trouble and we’ve gotta keep our heads cool.”

  On our way back to the car, Anastasia had gone on alert. It was almost as if she was posing with her new orange bandana covering the sparkly, rhinestone-encrusted collar she wore. Then she growled! I couldn’t believe my ears and searched the enormous truck-stop parking lot. A medium-sized sedan exited the parking lot onto the highway before I could check the make, model, and color or catch a glimpse of the license plate. When Peter sauntered our way, I told him what had happened, pointing in the direction the car had gone.

  “That’s away from where we’re headed,” he commented. “If you spot it again, or if any car seems to be getting too close, call me.”

  “Brien and I got a free coke,” Tommy announced when he and Jerry returned to the car a minute later.

  “Why?”

  “Because of our military bearing,” Tommy replied.

  “Will you translate, please?”

  “Sure,” Jerry replied. “They have free items for service men and women in there. As unbelievable as this may seem, even though Tommy and Brien told the young woman at the register they’re not members of the military, she gave them free drinks and chips anyway.”

  “Why?” I asked again.

  “She said she liked the way they walked—‘real military bearing,’ even if they aren’t real military,” Jerry added with a shrug.

  “That’s what I said. Even after clumsy Brien missed a bag of chips she tossed to him and had to pick it up,” Tommy offered. Then, it was as if a light bulb suddenly went on. “She never took her eyes off him as he bent down to do that. Why that little wench! She didn’t make me do that!”

  As he spoke, we all caught sight of Brien in a pool of light from a lamppost towering above him. A plastic bag dangled from one hand as he sipped from a cup held in the other. It must have gotten warm in Peter’s car because Brien had stripped out of the bulky camouflage jacket. Instead, he wore what looked like the top to a pair of thermal underwear hunters often wear. Skintight, his muscles bulged, even his well-defined abs were visible through the knit cloth of that clingy shirt.

  “She had baring of some kind in mind,” I said making eye contact with Bernadette. She nodded and then went into commandant mode again, speaking of military bearing.

  “Stage one is complete. Let’s move on to stage two.”

  There wasn’t much to stage two. We were going to drive the remaining distance to the cabin. Once we turned off the main highway onto what appeared to be a winding paved road, we’d get as close as we could to that cabin without scaring the bejeebers out of David Madison, I hoped. If he didn’t run out onto his porch pointing a shotgun at us, I intended to walk Anastasia to the door and knock. When the accountant answered, I’d try to get him to let me inside with my gift basket of goodies.

  Peter insisted that he’d do a bit of reconnaissance first. He wanted to make sure David was there alone and, preferably, unarmed. I wasn’t sure how he intended to make those determinations, but those goggles probably had something to do with it.

  When we were on the road that led back to the cabin, the entire area appeared to be deserted. Dense woods lined both sides of the road. It was a little spooky creeping along the deserted road in the dark. I’m sure it hadn’t been more than twenty minutes since we’d left the truck stop, but it felt like it was much longer.

  Peter was leading the way, driving slowly. When a white mailbox came into view a couple of hundred yards ahead of us, he switched off his headlights and slowed to a crawl. The inky darkness closed in around us when Bernadette did the same following almost on his bumper. When he pulled over and stopped, she did too.

  With no moon, it was pitch black out there. The cabin was barely visible—a dark blob in a clearing behind the mailbox. I searched for any glimmer of light coming from that cabin. Nothing.

  “Do you think he’s in there?” I asked anxiously.

  “I don’t see nothin’. It’s too dark.”

  “We need those goggles Brien had on,” Tommy said peering into the darkness.

  “He could be in there with the blinds drawn if he doesn’t want passersby to know the cabin’s occupied.”

  “What passersby?” Tommy asked. “This is the boonies of the boonies, don’t you think?”

  “Boonies is a good thing. No passersby is a good thing, too. We just want to find David Madison and nobody else,” I said, lapsing into an uneasy silence.

  Suddenly, Anastasia whined. I went on alert.

  “What is it?” Tommy asked. Anastasia whimpered again and then a low, guttural growl rose from her throat. I shivered in the cold, even though I was wrapped in my parka. We let out more than gasps when someone rapped on my window. Peter’s face appeared, illuminated by a flashlight held beneath his chin. I rolled down my window.

  “Don’t scream like that! I could hear it even with the windows closed,” he whispered.

  “Don’t sneak up on us like that,” Bernadette admonished also speaking quietly. “You almost gave me a heart attack. I thought you said this stakeout part of undercover work was going to be boring, Jerry.”

  “Anastasia tried to warn us he was coming,” Tommy said. “Good dog!”

  “Shh!” Peter whispered. “We’ll discuss it later. Jessica, there’s a fire going in there. One occupant—a male. He’s sitting in an armchair with one small lamp nearby like he’s reading, maybe. No sign of firearms or munitions. This is your chance. Go for it. I’m staying out of sight, but I’ll be right there. Brien, too.”

  “Show time,” I said with butterflies in my stomach. While we were at the truck stop, I’d retrieved the gift basket and it was sitting on my lap. I’d heard the snap a moment ago that told me Tommy had hooked Anastasia’s leash onto her collar.

  Peter carefully opened my door and then shut it again making almost no sound. Then he did the same with Tommy’s door and Anastasia sprang from the car. Peter took the end of the leash from Tommy and handed it to me. I winced at the crunching sounds my shoes made on the ground.

  “Let’s go, girl,” I whispered to Anastasia who led the way, straining at the end of her leash. A couple of times, she stopped and sniffed the air before moving again. I picked up the pace as a cold breeze whipped at the fur fringe on the hood of my parka. The poodle came to a halt, her nose pointed into the bree
ze. She whined briefly as she edged closer to me.

  Peter was nowhere to be seen as I hustled to the cabin. I trusted he would have ushered me away if he’d spotted danger nearby. Still, as I mounted the steps to the door my heart was pounding wildly. I could see a hint of light seeping out from under the door as I knocked. I stood there waiting for someone to answer. Nothing. I knocked again, this time a little louder and heard a rustling sound from inside the cabin.

  Anastasia whimpered. “It’s okay, girl,” I said not at all sure that was true. A noise from inside was closer now. “David?” I called out, still speaking in a low voice. “David Madison, it’s me, Jessica Huntington. Can we talk, please?”

  Someone on the other side of the door slipped a lock back. I heard the sound a deadbolt makes when you’re sliding it open. The door opened a crack and Anastasia poked her nose into it.

  “What the… a dog? Is that Beverly’s dog?” The crack widened and I handed him my card. He took it as flickering light became visible.

  “Yes. It’s cold out here. Will you let us in?” It must have dawned on him that keeping the door open wasn’t a good idea.

  “Come in. Quickly, please,” he said as he opened the door wide enough for us to enter. He shut and locked it behind us. I caught a whiff of smoke from the fire as the flames danced, playing with light and shadow in a rather sinister way.

  “This is for you from Bernadette,” I said, shoving the gift box toward him. “She thought you might need comfort food.”

  “Bernadette?” David asked as he stood gaping at me. “Does she know where I am, too?” He took the lid off that box and wonderful aromas poured out of it. Not just the spicy sweetness of Bernadette’s cookies, but I recognized the scrumptious scent of her mac and cheese. I relaxed slightly as David took a step away from the door.