Three Woofs for the Dead, White and Blue

by Laura Quinn

  “I should have known you recognized that fabric when you sent me to Simone for more. Who wore a dress like that?”

  “If I knew that, I wouldn’t have had to cast so many hooks. I looked through the society pages and social media accounts, looking for a match. People share everything nowadays.”

  “Let’s put our heads together over dinner to see what we can come up with,” Nick suggested. Claire helped him set the table and unpacked the cartons of Chinese food that Agnes requested. He heated Baron’s four-paw chili and cornbread, sneaking a taste for himself.

  Several ideas were brought up, but proved to be impractical. They needed resolution quickly, before the murderer got a second shot at Agnes. Finally, Claire came up with a plan that had a good chance of working, but required a huge buy-in from Nick. He agreed, but only if officer Vert could be included in the plan and put on standby for protection. Nick knew Randy disliked the chief and assured Agnes that he was safe.

  Claire wrote up a script and read it in the disguised voice she planned to use. It informed the targeted suspect that Agnes was in the hospital on life support. The day before, she gave a sealed package to her niece, Bobby Sue, who was to open it if anything happened to Agnes. If the suspect wanted them to keep quiet, he or she was to meet her in Agnes’ hospital room at the appointed time, bringing the amount requested. In exchange, Bobby Sue would release the evidence she had.

  Nick and Agnes guffawed at Claire’s attempt at a southern accent. Not liking the script either, Agnes rewrote it and insisted she call the suspects herself. She demonstrated with a voice she used for a role she once played. Her present audience was impressed with the raspy stylings of Ruby, Agnes’s lung-cancer-inflicted cousin. Knowing Ruby had a death sentence would create a false sense of security for her victims, Agnes explained. Nick and Claire agreed the actress should make the calls from the hospital, to add authenticity.

  Claire drove to the back of the Golden Oaks Manor, so that Agnes could sneak into her room through the open window. As a distraction, Claire took Baron to the reception area. As usual, everyone crowded around the furry celebrity, taking the heat off Agnes.

  Calling in a number of favors, Nick put out a fake dispatch call and drove an ambulance to the nursing home. He picked up a supposedly unconscious Agnes and took her to the hospital, where he whisked her into a reserved private room on a floor closed for renovation. Officer Vert set up the electronic monitoring equipment in the next room while Nick went down to the main floor, to monitor when the suspects arrived. He volunteered to man the visitor station, eliminating any questions about issuing badges for a non-existent patient.

  Per the plan, Agnes contacted everyone from the hospital bed. Claire drove to the hospital and signed in for an impromptu shift with Baron to comfort patients. She put on his official badge and took the elevator up to the sixth floor. Claire was taken aback when she walked into the private room, fearing that Agnes really did suffer a heart attack. The faux patient put all her acting skills to use, breathing through a cleverly disconnected tube, and generally playing a coma victim. She wore a smudge of non-tainted chocolate on her chin for effect.

  Claire stepped into the adjoining bathroom to put on her wire, then settled in a chair by the door. Baron lay next to her, watching. Four of the appointed time slots came and went with no visitors. Then, Claire’s phone rang.

  “I’ve been made,” Nick said. “Sanjay recognized me from your shop and asked what I was doing at the desk. I told him part of my role is to help out at the hospital. I think he bought it.”

  “Did he leave?” Claire asked.

  “No, he claimed he was here to visit a work colleague named Bob Smith, but didn’t know the room number. I looked up the name, and there were three possibilities. He seemed pretty cool, but everyone knows what a common name that is. There was bound to be at least one. I added Agnes’s room number to the end of his list, just in case.”

  “Ok, thanks. I’ll cue Randy.”

  “Be careful. I wish I could be up there with you.”

  “No, you stay there so we know who else shows up. Forewarned is forearmed.”

  Claire tilted her head towards the hidden wire around her chest and whispered, “Suspect Sanjay Patel just checked in with Nick and is on his way up. I’ll give you the signal when he arrives.” She checked that her shirt showed no trace of the microphone, then turned off her phone’s ringer. She tried to calm her racing heartbeat through deep breaths. Agnes didn’t break character, laying as still as a corpse. Baron stood up, his hackles rising with Claire’s adrenaline. Both sets of eyes were riveted on the door, waiting.

  Claire yelped when her phone vibrated with an incoming call alert. She whispered into the open line that she was ok before taking Nick’s call.

  “Sanjay just left. He said it was the first room on the list, but his buddy was asleep, so he left,” Nick reported. “I checked with security, and his car left the parking lot. I think we can cross him off the list.”

  Claire relayed the information to Randy, advising him to stand down. It was unnerving not to get a reply, but radio silence was to be maintained. She felt on edge, worried that Jay might follow the classic double-back routine. As another hour went by, she began to relax. Nick reported no one had entered the building and suggested they call it quits and go home. Claire knew Agnes wanted to keep trying and said they would wait one more hour. Baron lay down and closed his eyes. Claire read online posts about U.S. veterans and their service dogs, losing herself in the emotional stories.

  A candy-striper knocked at the door. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have some comfort items.”

  “We’re ok here, thanks anyway,” Claire said. She hoped she didn’t sound rude, but she was finishing up a particularly touching story and yearned for the happy ending.

  “I’ll just be a minute dearie,” the woman said, pushing a trolley loaded with books, magazines and flower arrangements into the room. She bent over to read the chart, her long grey hair falling forward as she did so. Claire went back to reading her screen when the volunteer’s ample behind bumped the door shut. “Oops, silly me I’m such a klutz.”

  Baron sat up and growled. “It’s okay, Baron. She’s helping…oh my God, it’s you!”

  By the time Claire recognized the disguised woman, Lydia had a pillow over Agnes’s face. “Make one move and I’ll suffocate her. It won’t take a moment.”

  Agnes pushed the call button, but nothing happened.

  “Dearie, my granddaddy built this hospital. I know every device here, and how to dismantle it. You can press that all you want. No one’s coming.”

  While Lydia’s attention was diverted, Claire tapped SOS in Morse code on her chest. She reminded herself that Officer Vert was seconds away. As soon as he heard enough damning testimony, he would burst through the door and arrest Lydia.

  “Don’t hurt her,” Claire pleaded. “She’s probably going to die anyway. Even though she only ate half a piece of chocolate, the doctors said her organs are shutting down.”

  “Really?” Lydia asked. “Then, why isn’t her breathing tube connected? I knew this was a setup as soon as I heard this old woman’s ridiculous plan. The floor is being renovated, not to mention there are no ICU beds here.”

  “You can’t kill us both,” Claire said. She emphasized the word kill, hoping that would trigger Randy’s appearance.

  “I’m not going to kill you, I’m not a monster. But, I do have an insurance policy to ensure your compliance. I lured those chattering dodos John and Jean into meeting me, then locked them in a very secure spot. They’re safe for now, but won’t be for long. Jean’s going to need her insulin soon, I believe.”

  Agnes’s muffled screams and body convulsions were futile. Lydia continued, “After I kill this old nosy body, I’ll leave. Once I’m safely away, I’ll let you know where they are.”

  “I just have to scream and security will be here in a minute,” Claire challenged.

  “This floor is empty, not t
hat it matters. I’m not going to jail; I took precautions for that too.” Lydia held up a small capsule. “If I swallow this, no one finds your lost sheep.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Claire stalled.

  “Is this the part where I’m supposed to confess and you record me? You’re not the hot-shot sleuth you thought you were, hmm?”

  “I never suspected you,” Claire admitted. “Why would I?” Instead of her life flashing before her eyes, missed clues appeared in her mind: Lydia’s proximity to all the murders; the bushels of cherries she used to produce kirsch; her not attending Fourth Fest, but being close to it; the mismatched shawl that must have disguised a torn garment, and her mis-guided advice to Traci. Yet, Lydia never registered as a suspect, with no apparent motive and assumed alibis.

  “I suppose it can’t do any harm to enlighten you. I closed the deal today for the empty land and the funds were transferred to an offshore account. Before you can do anything to stop me, I’ll be safely en route to an extradition-free country as a very rich woman. But first, slide your phone over to me.”

  Claire did as she was instructed and Lydia stomped on the phone until it shattered into pieces.

  “It really was dear Alfie’s fault,” Lydia began, maintaining just enough pressure on the pillow to incapacitate her victim. “Like an aristocratic cliché, my husband lost all his family money and some of mine. If I hadn’t taken drastic steps, his gambling debts would have eaten away every last brick of our estate.”

  “But he died years ago,” Claire blurted out in spite of herself.

  “Yes, but then my foolish brother was taken in by that con man and I spent much of my remaining fortune on his various expenses and taking care of dear Kendall. With the hit I took in the stock market last year, I have nothing left. Selling that property is the only option to preserve my standard of living. When that spiteful bitch threatened my plan, I simply had to make an adjustment. Kim was a terrible person, anyway. The world is better off without her. Just as it will be when this one goes.”

  “Wait,” Claire shouted. “How did you get the glass into the gloves?”

  “Oh, you figured that out, then. Didn’t you think it was poetic justice that she was found red-handed?” Lydia paused for effect, as if she were addressing a society luncheon. “I’ve been a loyal customer of Le Bon’s for years. Simone’s Facebook page about the gloves she ordered for Kim inspired me. When I read the Sunday paper that night, I couldn’t believe my luck in seeing the ad featuring the very bottle that would christen the ship. How could I not take that as a sign?”

  Claire tried to cut to the chase. “And you snuck over to the tent that night to add the poisoned glass?”

  “Of course not, I don’t stock magnums of Veuve Clicquot. After I bought a matching bottle, I mixed the shards with some of granddad’s pills. Amygdalin was shunned by the medical community, but he swore it would cure cancer. He used to make his own stock from our cherry orchard’s harvest remnants, which came in quite handy. Later that night, I snuck out of my party and pedaled over to the tent while everyone was watching the fireworks. Fortunately, they hadn’t transported the gloves to the ship yet, so I slipped in the shards and rode back. It broke my heart to dump my brother’s bicycle in the lake, but it would have been traced to me.”

  With Lydia’s confession complete, Claire watched the door for Randy’s entrance. When nothing happened, she pushed for more information. “What about Larry and Brendan? Why did they have to be adjusted?”

  “That do-gooder accountant was investigating the village’s projects after finding financial irregularities. That’s why the floozy flung herself at him, to stay ahead of the probe and cover her involvement. Kim told him she was being framed by Samantha and Brendan, as they were the ones getting rich from the marina developers’ bribes. Larry made it his vendetta to stop the project and avenge his lover’s death.” Lydia took one hand off the pillow just long enough to make a gagging charade at his notion of chivalry. “I thought my brother buried my connection to the land behind enough shell companies, but that plodding pencil-pusher found me. Having been my accountant for years, he knew my financial situation and I knew it wouldn’t be long before he told the police everything.”

  “And Brendan?” Claire desperately hoped that one last confession would be enough to send in the police.

  “Now that is all your fault, young lady.”

  “What?”

  “Traci was the perfect patsy, and Ken became a bonus scapegoat, thanks to you. Our idiot police chief was satisfied, but you wouldn’t stop snooping. When I heard your chatty employee at the farmers market talk about alternative motives, I knew I had to create a different scenario. Or, what do you marketing types call it nowadays, a new optic? I told him I was interested in buying a lakeside home for Kendall and he suggested we take the yacht out for viewing some neighboring estates. After a little drink of my special vodka, he practically threw himself overboard. I swam back without anyone noticing.”

  “I have to admit, that was genius. Even I was starting to believe Brendan may have been the murderer,” Claire said. Realizing help wasn’t coming, she formulated her own plan. She just had to distract Lydia somehow. “However, Agnes knew you made two mistakes with that murder, which sprung her into action. She was just waiting to pounce.”

  “Mistakes?” Lydia sputtered as she dropped the pillow and spun around to face Claire.

  Agnes took her cue and sprung up, causing Lydia to whip around and yank her back. Claire lunged for the trolley and smashed a vase over Lydia’s head. Baron jumped on top of the falling body, pinning her down while Claire snatched the suicide pill from her pocket.

  Between Baron’s barking and Agnes’s and Claire’s screams, the hospital security team raced to the room, followed by several nurses. Assessing a probable concussion, a gurney with handcuffs was ordered to remove the woozy murderer. Nick was just minutes behind, sprinting up the stairs as soon as he heard the order over the radio.

  Agnes was examined first and advised to stay overnight in the hospital for observation. “Are you crazy? I was nearly killed here,” she protested. “I’ll stay with that hunk. He can watch over me.”

  “I’ll watch over all three of them, if that’s ok with you, Baron,” Nick said, receiving a tail wag in response.

  “Just a minute,” Chief Pete barked. He and his officers arrived in time to take full credit for the arrest. “We’re going to need statements from them.”

  Nick lunged at Randy. “Where the hell were you?”

  “I set the equipment up, but then the chief got wind of your plan and ordered me back,” the young officer replied.

  “You could have warned me,” Claire snapped. “I kept stalling to get more information, thinking you were there listening.”

  “The system was supposed to send an alert to my phone as soon as the recorder was triggered. Bro, I would have called you and the security team immediately, I swear.”

  “So, what happened, boy genius?” Claire said. “Did you forget to turn it on?”

  He stared down at his shoes and croaked out the truth. “I didn’t charge my phone last night and the battery died. I switched it to airplane mode so it could charge faster.” The room erupted at his incompetence, but the officer stayed put and pulled out his phone. “I know you’re all pissed, but the good news is that it worked. See? Here’s the alert, which means the system recorded everything that was said. As long as you didn’t block the microphone, that is.” Claire glared at him. “Which of course, I’m sure you didn’t, so I’ll go next store and download the file.”

  Agnes stood and walked directly to the chief. “You’ve got what you need, Bozo. We’re leaving.”

  Chapter 20

  Saturday, July 16

  A groggy Claire awoke in her bed, with Baron curled up next to her. Nick was asleep in the corner reading chair, one cat on his chest and the other on the velvet-upholstered arm. She tiptoed out of the room; she needed caffeine, a long shower, then more
caffeine. Baron accompanied her to the kitchen, which awoke the cats, who awoke the household.

  Marti was the first to emerge from the guest room, running to embrace her friend. Bob followed closely behind, wearing a Posh Pup t-shirt over his boxers. Clarence and Darrow bounded off the bed and sniffed Baron from head to tail. Penny hissed when Darrow came too close to her dish of tuna.

  “Are you ok? We were so worried about you,” Marti said.

  “Nick told us everything, but you were asleep by the time we got here,” Bob continued.

  “I’m still trying to get my head around it,” Claire admitted. “Everything happened so quickly.”

  “You caught a murderer,” Nick said, still wearing last night’s outfit. He let the three dogs out in the backyard to play while the humans caught up.

  “I’ve got coffee started, but I was planning to grab something for breakfast on the way in,” Claire said.

  “You can give your statement later. In fact, I’ll call the chief right now to tell him to buzz off,” Marti said. “Bob, get my phone.”

  “Oh, I forgot about the statement,” Claire said, looking at her watch. “I’ve got to get to the shop. We have the big veterans’ event today, remember?”

  “Barbara’s got everything handled,” Bob said. “She’s already there finalizing the setup and the kids will be there soon. Even Peggy volunteered to work the full day when she heard what happened.”

  “As soon as I shower and get ready, my monsters and I will be there, so there’s nothing to worry about,” Marti said.

  “I reckon you could use a good long rest,” Nick said. Baron yawned his approval.

  “No way,” Claire said, gulping down the first cup of java. “Those veterans gave everything for our country, I am not going to stand them up. No way.”

  Nick tried to say something, but was interrupted by a third “no way” from the determined blonde. Marti and Bob knew her friend well enough not to try to change her mind, offering their help instead. Nick insisted she at least have a full breakfast before going in, and he raided her pantry for ingredients to make his firehouse special of pancakes, eggs and bacon. Claire went upstairs to get ready, while Bob checked in with his assistant and Marti played with the dogs.