Misalignment and Murder

by Cathy Tully

  “C’mon, buddy.” Angie shook Caden’s shoulder. “Let’s get going. I’m already dressed.” She looked over at Susannah. “He’s eager to see dogs in costumes, but not as eager to get out of bed.”

  “That’s okay, we have time.” In the kitchen, Princess Leia had put on the coffee, and Susannah grabbed a cup. They had promised to meet Bitsy at seven thirty to help her set up the registration booth and lay out the signs marking the parade route. Caden soon appeared in the kitchen with Angie behind him.

  “Here, take this.” Angie handed Caden a muffin and reached into the fridge for a juice box.

  Susannah’s eyebrows went up.

  “No lecturing me about high-carb meals. At least it’s gluten-free.” She prodded Caden toward the door, and they stepped outside.

  Humid air smacked Susannah in the face. “Ugh.”

  “What’s wrong, Aunt Suzie?”

  “Nothing, sweetie, I just feel a bad hair day coming on.”

  Caden giggled and mussed his newly combed hair. “I’m having a bad hair day too.”

  She glanced at her sister, then winked at Caden. “Why aren’t you having a bad hair day too?”

  “Lots of product.”

  As they arrived at Peachy Things, Bitsy was parking her SUV. She, Jamal, and Apollo all wore Sherlock Holmes capes and deerstalker caps. Andrea, who had been pressed into service to help watch the boys, wore a T-shirt and yoga pants. Jamal examined Caden’s Jedi robes through the cheap plastic lens of a huge magnifying glass. They giggled.

  “Don’t forget, Jamal has a game later on,” Andrea said.

  “I remember.” Bitsy took her car key off the fob. “Just take my SUV when you need it.”

  Andrea led Jamal and Caden through the store and out the back door to the park, which was located behind the strip of stores. The parade would end in the park, where participants would be freed of their canine costumes and allowed to wander in the grass.

  Taking a few signs each, Susannah and Angie situated them along the quarter-mile parade route. They set up the registration table where dog parents would sign in and their fur babies would receive a number like they were running the Atlanta Marathon.

  As the time ticked down, Susannah nervously gazed down the street and tapped her pocket, where she had placed a printout of the Google map. She gave Bitsy a wave and backtracked to her Jeep. She drove down Main Street toward Peachtree Street and Cutz & Curlz. In her rearview mirror, she watched two Peach Grove PD squad cars pull up; Randy and Owen got out. Her heart thumped in her chest even though she knew there would be little danger while Owen was busy at work.

  As Susannah parked at Cutz & Curlz, Maggie opened the door and stepped out, sending Otis, her black and white cat, cowering under a bush. Susannah almost didn’t recognize her at first. Though she was in the same red dress she’d worn for Travis’s funeral, her face was a deathly white and her eyes were circled with maroon-red shadow, giving her an otherworldly, vampire-like appearance. Her hair trailed down in fanciful twists and curls that adhered to her face like a sculpture.

  “Holy cow,” Susannah murmured as she approached.

  “You like?” Maggie curtsied, holding the skirt out. The same zebra-striped sandals with the four-inch heels graced her feet. “Us stylists are good with hair. And I’ll never be able to wear this dress again without thinking about flying Super Plus, so the bloody eye makeup is appropriate.”

  Susannah indicated her approval. “How can you walk in those heels?”

  “Practice.” Maggie grinned, handing Susannah a slip of paper. “I’m driving to Bitsy’s. Not much walking after that. There’s Owen’s address. We’ll keep him busy.”

  Stuffing the paper into a small backpack, Susannah climbed into her Jeep and headed down Peachtree Street. It was eight o’clock. According to Bitsy’s timetable, the roads would be blocked off at eight thirty, and the parade would start at nine. That gave her over an hour to get to Owen’s house and back. Easy peasy. She placed Owen’s address in her GPS and found the drive exactly as Bitsy had described. Down Peachtree Street to a cross street, then left and left again onto Walker Drive, Owen’s road. Susannah thrust her chest out. Maybe she should apply for a private investigator’s license. “Get over yourself,” she murmured, mashing the button to turn on the radio. “All you did was read a map.”

  The pavement soon ended, and she slowed the Jeep as she took in the wooded landscape. A few houses dotted the road, and all were hemmed in on three sides by trees. Owen’s house was exactly where she thought it would be. Pulling into the driveway, she wondered why they even bothered with the fake deer ploy. It was plenty deserted here. Glancing at the clock, she jumped out of the Jeep. It had taken ten minutes to drive here from Cutz & Curlz. Owen was still working, directing traffic at the Growl-A-Ween Parade. There would be more than enough time to snoop around. A branch rustled, and she surveyed Owen’s yard to see a bushy-tailed squirrel climbing a spindly pine.

  She group-texted Angie and Bitsy. “I’m here.” Bitsy messaged a thumbs-up, but Angie did not reply.

  Susannah stepped into the cement drive and crossed to the house. The front yard was small but tidy, the road silent. After knocking on the front door, she tried the knob, but it was locked. Peeking into a window, she made out a family room with a couch, a TV, and a recliner. Standard furnishings. Nothing here screamed dirty cop. She walked around the house, checking the windows and rear door. The backyard was small, with patches of scraggly crabgrass and hard-packed dirt. The woods were quiet, and she took a few steps into the trees, wondering if she should bother hiking to Maggie’s salon.

  Suddenly, music came through the trees, and she stopped and tilted her head, laughing. “Monster Mash.” Bitsy’s favorite Halloween tune was being played at the parade. That settled it. This property was as close to downtown as she and Bitsy had thought.

  Her theory was correct. Except for one slight problem. There was absolutely no evidence here. No clues of illegal doings. Nothing to suggest that Owen even lived here. Her mouth, which had been dry before, now felt parched, and she walked to the side of the house, where she had seen a garden hose neatly stowed on a reel mounted on the house. Picking up the hose, she twisted the spigot, allowing an easy trickle of water. A few drops leaked out where the hose attached to the spigot and splattered her boots. She stepped back and drank, the cool water soothing her throat. One final sip and she shut off the faucet and hung the hose back up. Glancing down, she noticed a fresh-looking footprint in the soft soil next to the house.

  She bent low and peered at the impression.

  A chill went down her spine. It was a bootprint identical to the hikers Crystal wore.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Downspout Dodge

  Susannah froze, her mouth full of water, and listened intently. Was Crystal here?

  The air was still. Even the sounds of “Monster Mash” had faded away. Forcing the water down, she eyed the quickest way to the Jeep. She had seen no traces of anyone else around, but she was staring at a fresh footprint in the mud.

  It had to be a coincidence. Why would Crystal be at Owen’s house now? Taking no chances, she pulled her keys from her back pocket and clutched them. Grabbing her backpack, she unzipped the top and placed her right hand on her Glock. She was not going to be taken unawares.

  Hugging the side of the house, she tiptoed to the front yard and peered around the edge of the house. Her car was still the only one in sight, but something seemed out of place. Inhaling slowly, she stepped around the rain gutter as a flash of movement caught her eye.

  Crystal was standing on Owen’s brick porch, holding a gun. “Stop right there.”

  Susannah would do no such thing. As she sped down the side of the house, the sound of a bullet shattering wood shingles propelled her along. Wresting her Glock free from its Velcro strap, she ran, her mind racing. She didn’t want to die in a shootout with a crazy woman. The sound of Crystal’s shoes on the brick porch let her know the woman was on the move.
Could she outrun her?

  She flung herself around the back of the house as another shot sailed past. Her heart hammered, keys clutched in a damp hand. Could she beat Crystal around the house and get into her Jeep? As the front of the property came into view, her heart sank. The Jeep sat at an odd angle, two tires flat.

  A noise came from behind her. Propelled forward by a horrible sense of dread, she scampered around the house and leaped onto the front porch. Mirroring the action Crystal had taken just moments before, she quickly jumped down the other side and scurried behind the aluminum downspout where all this had begun. Having circled the house in what felt like seconds, she sucked in a breath and glanced across the street. Past the trees, she made out a pickup truck parked behind some wild privet bushes. Crystal.

  With no neighboring homes deeper in the woods, it was just her and Crystal.

  She jammed her keys into her pocket. Both hands now free, she gripped her Glock and racked the slide. Time seemed to slow as she listened for Crystal to come around the front of the house. But she heard nothing. Suddenly, the hair on her neck stood up, and she spun as Crystal rounded the back of the house, gun in hand.

  Susannah shot, and shot again. She was sure her aim was wild, but Crystal fell and crawled behind the corner of the house. Susannah sprinted across the yard and into the woods to Crystal’s pickup. She threw open the door and cheered out loud when she saw the keys in the ignition. Thank goodness for small-town habits. She jumped in the pickup and sped off.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Schrödinger’s Crystal

  Drumming his fingers on his desk, Randy scowled. Detective Withers pushed her hands deep into the pockets of her khaki pants and said, “Tell me again.”

  Susannah rolled her eyes. “I’ve already told you three times. I found out where Officer Chaffin lives and went to his house to look around. While I was looking around, Crystal Keene flattened the tires on my Jeep and then shot at me. I shot back, and I might have hit her.”

  “And then she lent you her truck to come here,” Detective Withers said placidly.

  Susannah knew what she must look like after the chase around the house. Her hair was wild and her camouflage T-shirt was smudged with dirt and white streaks of paint from the downspout. “I ran into the woods to get away from her and saw her truck. I thought she might have left a spare key somewhere.” She shrugged, suddenly feeling exhausted. “But the keys were in the ignition, so I jumped in and left.”

  “That’s some story, Doctor,” the detective said.

  There was a knock on the door, and Detective Withers opened it. Susannah ignored the whispered conversation and sipped at cold coffee from a Styrofoam cup. If they were going to arrest her for trespassing, they should get on with it. She didn’t think they would charge her with interfering with an investigation because there didn’t seem to be any interest in investigating Owen. When she’d first suggested that Owen could have known Travis and Gus, Randy ground his teeth so hard she thought a vein would burst in his neck. Detective Withers’s bored expression hadn’t changed much, and Susannah soon felt ridiculous for mentioning it.

  At the door, the detective waved for Randy to follow her. As he passed Susannah, he placed his hand on her shoulder. “Stay here. I’ll have someone bring you fresh coffee.”

  Susannah pulled her phone from her backpack and found twelve messages from Bitsy and three from Angie. She sent a quick thumbs-up to their Everything okay? messages. As she had careened down the dirt road in Crystal’s F-150, she had been terrified that Crystal would dive into the street and take potshots at her. That hadn’t happened, and she didn’t know if Crystal was lying behind Owen’s house, wounded, or if she had crawled away to hide. When Susannah got to the Peach Grove PD, Little Junior had stopped her midstory and walked her straight to Randy’s office. Too terrified to use her phone while in the truck, she was playing catch-up now.

  There was a tap on the door, and Little Junior entered with a steaming Styrofoam cup. As he leaned in to hand it to her, he whispered, “I texted Bitty for you.”

  Susannah suppressed a laugh. She had forgotten that Bitsy’s Aunt Eunice called her Bitty, and Little Junior followed suit. “Thanks.” She waved her phone at him. “I’m answering her now.” Sipping at the bitter coffee, she pondered how to explain to Bitsy and Angie that her plan had backfired. As she stared at her phone, collecting her thoughts, Randy returned alone, shutting the door behind him.

  His gaze riveted on her, he placed his hands on the back of his chair. “Dr. Shine, I want you to know that we have taken your report and sent a car out to check on your story. An officer searched the property, and there was no sign of Ms. Keene. We’ll keep an eye out for her. Your Jeep was found with two flat tires, so the officer had it towed. You can pick it up this afternoon from the city impound lot.” He leaned across the desk and handed her a sheet of paper with the address and phone number of the lot.

  Waiting for more, Randy just gazed at her. “That’s it?” she asked. “What about the bullet hitting the house? There must be some evidence of that.”

  Randy’s light blue eyes turned gray. His voice pitched louder than Susannah thought was necessary. “I said we have all we need. You can go.” There was that jaw grinding again. He came around his desk and pulled open the door. As the door momentarily wedged him into the corner of the room, he raised his eyebrows and whispered, “For your own safety, don’t talk about this.” He threw the door wide and folded his arms.

  Across the room, an officer she didn’t know stared at her. She folded the sheet of paper and pushed it into her pocket. The muscles in her neck stiffened as she thought about Crystal. If they hadn’t found her at Owen’s place, that meant that she was on the loose somewhere. Susannah stopped. How had Crystal gotten away without her truck?

  Little Junior gave her a nod. “Doctor.”

  She left the building half expecting Bitsy to greet her from her SUV, but the parking lot was deserted. A sour taste settled in her mouth as she thought about warning Bitsy and Maggie. Even more urgent, she had to get Angie and Caden home as soon as possible. Across the parking lot and past the municipal building, she trudged head down. On Main Street, she met more decorative scarecrows and costumed canines. A Pekingese in a red wig and Little Mermaid tail yapped at her. She scanned the street for Owen and Crystal but didn’t see either. There wasn’t any police presence at all. That was not a good sign. Phone in hand, she checked the time, disoriented when she realized it was almost three o’clock. How long had she been at the police station?

  At Peachy Things, Bitsy ran to her, her Sherlock Holmes cape flapping. “Where have you been?”

  Susannah looked around. “Where’s Angie and Caden?”

  Bitsy looked out the window, craning her neck to see around the scarecrow that was blocking the view. “Over there.” She pointed toward the Scarecrow Village, which had been set up on the green space across from her shop. “The Trunk-or-Treating is all finished, and Caden wanted to look for Apollo.” Pouting, she hung her head. “That’s the last place we saw that bad dog after he stole a little boy’s candy and ran off.”

  “I bet you’re wishing for squirrels right now.”

  Bitsy grinned. “Except for the Apollo incident, Growl-A-Ween was a success. Miss Shirleen Carter won the costume contest. She was dressed as Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz and her dog, Jack—”

  “Don’t tell me,” Susannah interrupted, “he was dressed as Toto.”

  “Now how could a boxer pull off a Toto costume?” Bitsy asked, her hands on her hips. “He was dressed as the Tin Man. He had a cute little funnel hat.”

  Susannah smiled.

  “Kinda like Apollo’s deerstalker cap.” Bitsy teared up. “Only we never got to the costume contest because he ran away. He was my practice puppy and he ran away. I’m a terrible fur parent.”

  It was Susannah’s turn to comfort her friend. She gave her a hug and patted her back. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. He was probably hungry.”<
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  “I know.” Bitsy sniffed. “His psoriasis meds give him a big appetite.”

  Over her shoulder, Susannah looked out the window to see Angie holding Caden’s hand as they wandered through the Scarecrow Village. Caden, wearing the light brown Jedi costume with a dark brown hooded robe, blended into the straw and autumn-themed colors. Angie’s flowing white Princess Leia robes stuck out.

  “We’ve got to get this dog search on the road.” Susannah gave Bitsy one final pat and backed up, holding her at arm’s length. “Crystal was at Owen’s house and took a shot at me.”

  “Crackers Crystal. I knew she was dangerous.”

  “Let’s find Apollo and get everyone home.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Canine Canter

  Across the street in the Scarecrow Village, Angie and Caden were doing a cursory search of the straw men for any sign of Apollo. Susannah kept an eye out for Crystal.

  “Where’s Owen?” asked Susannah.

  “The police left as soon as the Growl-A-Ween parade was over.” Bitsy jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “The Trunk-or-Treat don’t need a police presence.”

  “I’m not sure Owen’s our killer.”

  “What about the Tussahaw Junction connection?” Bitsy fingered a small rubber mouse that sat on a hay bale, part of the Pest Arrest Extermination Company’s display. It incorporated a scarecrow who stood upright via a thick stake and wore a back pack pesticide sprayer. The scare-pest-control-man pointed a nozzle at the bale.

  Susannah thought. “Yeah, that still makes sense. But then why was Crystal shooting at me?”