Doggone Dead (8 page)

Trying to find Adam Cole wouldn’t be too difficult. I already knew he was taking Sunshine to the dog park every day at noon. Zach, Butch and I packed a picnic lunch and headed back over to accidentally-on-purpose run into Mr. Cole. Zach of course, had no idea the sneaky thing his mother was about to do. He was more than a little curious as to why I wanted to go to the dog park when it looked like it was going to rain. At the last minute I threw an umbrella into our bag. Right as we entered the dog park, the sky burst open and a healthy Texas downpour drenched us.

“Mom, it’s raining. Let’s go back home,” Zach said as I scrambled to open the umbrella. We couldn’t go back home. What if this was my only chance to come in contact with Adam Cole and save my dad’s reputation?

“Come on, Zach. Butch doesn’t mind if it’s raining, now do you, Butch?” Butch looked up at me, his little tail between his legs, the water starting to make him look like a large rodent just crawling out of the sewer.

I clutched my picnic basket and headed for the covered benches and tables. The lightning crackled just as we got to the shelter.

“Mom, is this a metal roof? Is that safe in a thunderstorm?”

I tried to ignore my son and the intelligence he was producing from that darned public school education.

“We’ll be fine.” I pulled out our peanut butter sandwiches and tried to make light of the situation. Butch now cowered under the picnic table.

“Mom, are you crazy? We need to get out of here,” Zach pleaded. I was just about to take him up on it when I heard a voice from behind me.

“Betsy?” It was Adam Cole, holding his briefcase over his head and dragging along Sunshine, who was, needless to say, not feeling her name.

“Hi there,” I chirped. “What a surprise to see you here!”

“I could say the same. You must really love that little dog to bring him out in the rain like this.”

“Yes, we really love him ... Uh, and it wasn’t raining when we got here,” I assured him. I ran a hand through my hair, sure the humidity was turning it into a layer of frizz. “So you didn’t get your fence fixed yet?” I asked.

“No, I’ve been pretty busy at work. New job, you know.”

“Yes, new job, new town.” I put on my most seductive smile and then took a little too big of a bite of my sandwich.

“Boy, you must be hungry,” he said, noticing the hunk I had just taken out of my sandwich. That was it! That was my path to getting him to talk about dinner. I tried to answer him, but found the peanut butter wasn’t budging. I muttered incomprehensibly, but he stopped me.

“Take your time, you’ll choke.” He reached over and patted me on the back like I was a four-year-old who had gobbled down too much cookie.

I finally swallowed and took a breath of air. “Yes, I was hungry.” Zach was now looking at me closely, probably wondering if he needed to arrange a nursing home for his loony mother.

Adam Cole turned back toward his dog and tried to push her out into the rain beyond the somewhat dry space we were in. She wasn’t having it.

“I was just saying,” I said too loudly. He jumped and turned around from the dog. “I was just saying to a friend of mine that it’s really nice to eat with someone who’s over eighteen sometimes.”

A look of confusion came over Zach’s face.

Cole smiled. “You don’t get to do that?”

“Well, you know,” I motioned to Zach. “Being a single parent, I don’t get to converse with adults all that much.”

“Oh,” he nodded. I was sure he was going to launch into the dinner invite one more time, but a quiet settled between us as the rhythm of the falling rain pounded on the tin roof above us. This was not happening. My Mata Hari was truly inadequate.

“I’ll go to dinner,” I blurted out.

“Oh, um ... great,” he said. “I didn’t think you wanted to go to dinner. I thought you might have a boyfriend or something.”

“She does,” Zach interrupted.

“Well, we’re just going to dinner, Zach. That’s all. No harm in that.”

Zach folded his arms over and turned away from me. Butch scooted to the other side of the concrete.

Nobody ever said the spy game was easy.

*****

Feeling more than a twinge of guilt for setting up a date with another man, I made a call to Leo.  He came into my life after a long dry spell of waiting for a husband who disappeared. Fearing that he had been the victim of foul play, I raised our son by myself but never quite let go of hoping he would return. When he finally did come back into my life, I confirmed the suspicions I had feared all along. He was nothing more than a con man who had moved on to other lives and other women.

Thank goodness that when the truth was finally revealed to me, I was already involved with Leo. Through all of my mishaps, Leo seemed to be supportive and understanding. A guy like that doesn’t come along every day, but to be truthful I wasn’t totally sure how I felt about him. He lived in another city, so our time together had been scattered. Still, although I found myself wishing he were around more than just a weekend here and weekend there, if we lived in the same city together would the chemistry be the same, seeing each other day after day? Could I deal with having a father for Zach when I had been doing the job for so many years? There was so much unknown about our future that I felt the anxiety creeping in, coupled with an overwhelming feeling of fear that I could lose this wonderful man.

I punched in the Dallas number. It was still early in the hurricane season, so he shouldn’t be too overtaken by work yet. When Leo talked about the tropics, he wasn’t eying the beaches thinking of relaxation and a margarita. He was eying those swirling clouds that formed off of Africa and then calculating if they were heading for the Gulf. What a romantic. What he lacked in beach etiquette he made up for in everything else. He was for sure the one guy I wouldn’t mind being stranded on a deserted island with. Well, maybe him and air conditioning and that margarita, I thought as I felt the heat of July beating through my kitchen window.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Betsy.”

“Hi there. Nice to hear your voice on this overcast summer day.”

“Yours too. We found Zach’s dog.”

“Oh, that’s great. Tyler’s been bugging me to come down there to meet him. Now I guess we have a reason.”

“You didn’t need the dog to come down.”

Leo chuckled. “Nice to know.”

“He was kidnapped by the people whose fence he ran under. They just kept him. I would never have known, but I went back to the locked gate, and there he was running around in their courtyard.” I took a breath before I added the last part, “And I, uh, found a body.”

It was quiet on the other end. This was the third time this had happened, and I was trying to gauge his response. From the silence that followed, I would have to predict an oncoming storm.

“Leo?”

“Betsy? What is the crime rate in that town? My God, was there some sort of aerial crop spraying that got out of hand or something and turned half the brains of the residents to mush?”

“No,” I answered. “At least I don’t think so.” I continued to tell him the story of the dead butler and Libby Loper.

“So you climbed over the fence?”

“Yes, I did. Aunt Maggie helped.”

“Your partner in crime.”

“She’d like hearing that,” I replied. “Well, I just wanted to let you know I was thinking of you and that we found Butch.”

“Now that I know your latest adventure, I’ll be thinking and mostly worrying about you,” he said. “I might be able to get away a little earlier than the fourth with Tyler. It’s so hard to keep an eye on you when we’re three hours apart.”

I thought about the dinner plans I had just made with Adam Cole. If Leo showed up, it would be pretty hard to explain why I was “dating” the new guy in town. It would be better to keep him in Dallas until the fourth.

“No, we’re fine. Honest. You need to work and not be running down here every time I  ... every time I ...”

“Find a body?”

“Well, yes.”

“Okay, we’ll be in then on Saturday morning for the big day. Can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too,” I said, a slight quiver in my voice.

“Stay safe,” he added.

“Of course.”

The next day, after a short phone call to Libby Loper, I reported for duty to help clean up the mess Hunter Grayson had made of her house. I thought she would balk at the thought of some stranger wanting to come in, but she welcomed the help, especially when I enlisted Maggie to come along.

Maggie opened a tattered cardboard box. “Now what in the world would a man need with all of these vases? Was he going to be openin’ a flower shop?”

“I have no idea. The general plan is, make a stack of items for Libby to look through, and what she doesn’t want we either try to return or sell.” I had set up three areas to organize the items – one to throw away, one to donate and one to keep.

“Some of this stuff looks like it has been here for years. I don’t think they’ll be lettin’ you return it.”

I dusted off an unopened box and opened it with a carpet knife. Through a blanket of Styrofoam peanuts, I pulled up another vase. “Another vase. I’ll put it in the donation pile.”

“Again I say, who needs all these vases? Been to the Goodwill store? The clothes get bought, and the vases get dusty,” said Maggie.

“Just be sure to keep all the paperwork with each item,” Libby Loper said as she leaned into the door with a cup of coffee. Now sober, she looked like a completely different person. Her stringy hair was now cut, curled and sprayed thanks to the wonders of Miss Ruby at the Hair House. She wore a green silk blouse over white slacks, and her wrists clinked with coordinating bracelets. If I had to guess the stores she bought that outfit in, I would have to say Nordstrom’s or Neiman Marcus.

“Yes, Ma’am, we’ve been putting the invoices inside the vases.”

“Do you have any idea how much Hunter Grayson spent here?” I asked.

Libby shook her head. “He went on the Internet and ordered something every day for two years. I’ve just retained a new attorney to rewrite my will. Whoever this Irving Spalding guy was, he was hired by Hunter. He didn’t seem to be too worried that my signature was obtained while I was under the influence of sedatives.”

“Amazin’, isn’t it?” Aunt Maggie said.

“I’m just sorry he’s dead.” Maggie and I exchanged glances as Libby continued. “I would have liked to cart that man off to jail.”

The doorbell on the first floor rang. Libby smiled and said, “I guess I’d better get used to getting the door myself for a while. You ladies are doing a wonderful job.” She ran her hand over a cardboard box and left the room. I counted two diamond rings and a diamond watch just on that hand. It wouldn’t be too long before she had “help.”

I stretched my aching back and looked around at the boxes we still had to open in this room. It was surprising he could get this much stuff in here. I bet the UPS guy could give us more details about Hunter Grayson than anyone else in the entire town. Grayson was probably his kid’s godfather they had to be spending so much time together. Libby returned to the packed room holding a white casserole dish covered in foil. Behind her stood the vet, Dr. Springer.

“Surprise, Dr. Springer brought us some lunch,” she said cheerfully. The aroma from the casserole started drifting over, and the idea of lunch seemed pretty good. Behind Libby walked both Jean Springer and her intern, Allison.

“This is our day off from the clinic. We thought we might come over and help, if that’s okay.”

“Okay? I think it’s a great idea. More hands make less work,” said Maggie as she handed Allison a carpet knife. “You can start opening those boxes over there, dear.”

“Wow, this certainly is a lot of stuff,” Dr. Springer said, stating the obvious.

“Yes. Betsy is an efficiency expert, and she graciously volunteered to help me straighten it up,” Libby said.

“I had no idea.” Jean Springer turned to me and placed her hand on my sleeve. “How is Butch?”

Libby’s eyes registered something that could have been jealousy. I wasn’t sure. It had to be painful hearing about him – after all, he was her dog for a week, even if she had been traipsing in and out of reality.

“He’s fine. Glad to be home.” I stopped there, not wanting to hurt Libby.

“It was unfortunate that he came to me the way he did,” Libby said quietly.

“I know it must have been tough giving him up, but one of the reasons I came by was to tell you about all of the pets we have available for adoption. Butch was a rescue dog, and we would love to help you find another.”

Libby smiled. “No, I’m a little old to be wanting a puppy, don’t you think?”

“You’re never too old for a puppy,” Aunt Maggie said.

“Maybe so,” Libby said, hugging the warm casserole dish. “We all know the man thing didn’t work for me, so maybe a dog?”

“At least they’re loyal,” Dr. Springer said, patting her shoulder. She would have to use the word loyal, making me remember my guilt over seeing Adam Cole for dinner. I realized that if I hadn’t been trying to help my dad, I never would have considered going out with Adam. I blew the dust off of a cut-glass serving dish.

“After we finish in here, we’ll start cleaning out Mr. Grayson’s closet.”

“That will be a fine haul for Goodwill. Hunter only wore the finest cashmere, linen and wool. Even his pajamas were pure silk,” Libby Loper said. Just how much he had done for her? Had there been more than a butler/lady of the house relationship?

“Ladies, each one of you grab an empty box and put all you want in it,” Libby said. “Saves me the time and trouble of getting rid of some of this junk.”

Maggie picked up a box and handed it to me. “Here, Betsy. You take this one, and I’ll grab the one over there. We ought to find some real nice stuff here. Thanks, Libby.”

“My pleasure,” Libby returned. Dr. Springer and Allison each picked up their empty boxes.

“What’s this I hear about Judd being in some sort of trouble?” Dr. Springer asked me. “Your father has always been so kind. He brings us strays sometimes before animal control gets to them. He knows we can find homes for them through our rescue operation. I was shocked to see his picture in the paper.”

I paused, not sure how much he would want me to share about the situation.

Maggie spoke up before I could. “He didn’t do it. Clay Bonnet accused him of planting evidence on that wild boy of his. As if anything needed to be planted with that kid.”

Allison nodded and sliced open a box. She started pulling out what looked like a purple velvet shower curtain.

Aunt Maggie went over and felt the fabric. “Oh my, I think I might have to put that in my box. This is just beautiful.”

“Well, I think it’s terrible, about Lieutenant Kelsey, I mean,” said Libby Loper. “How did they ever get a picture like that? Someone had to be there at the farm that day to get it and then turn it into the newspaper. Who would do that?”

“I did it,” I replied meekly.

The room went quiet as the ladies tried to figure how to politely get themselves out of this awkward situation.

“Let me explain,” I said. “I took the picture for a series of articles we are doing for the upcoming Watermelon Festival. My dad just happened to be in the picture, and Rocky used it.”

“So,” Aunt Maggie said as she slit open a box. “Judd could of been picking flowers for all we know, but Rocky Whitless decides to put it in the paper as planting evidence.”

“That’s terrible,” Dr. Springer said, fingering her glasses that hung on a pink-and-green beaded chain.

“You have grounds to sue him, you know,” Allison added.

“We could, but Rocky is an old friend,” I said.

“Old friend or not, he could have just ended your father’s career.”

“No, my dad is innocent, and hopefully the district attorney will see that.”

“Clay Bonnet is nothing but trash,” Maggie said. “I wish you’d gotten a picture of his son Coop lightin’ one up. That would have stopped all this.” The ladies laughed as my aunt imitated someone smoking a joint.

“Aunt Maggie, stop that,” I said over the noise, holding back a giggle.

Libby looked around the room. “I can’t tell you how much you are doing for me, organizing all of this. I really look forward to the day I can enjoy my home again. I just had no idea he was stockpiling all this.”

“Can I take this down and put it in your kitchen?” asked Dr. Springer, reaching for the casserole dish.

“Oh, yes. I’m sorry. It smells delicious. Why don’t we have a little break then and all enjoy some of the casserole?” Libby said.

“I’d love a piece,” my aunt said, inviting herself. “How about you, Betsy?”

“No, I think I’ll work just a little longer. I may have to leave early to get Zach.”

“Suit yourself. Allison?”

“No, thank you. I had a big breakfast,” Allison said, pulling tiny glass figurines out of a box. The other three ladies left us alone to dig through the dusty mess. I opened a desk drawer and pulled out a large journal. It had blue and gold flowers on the cover and seemed to be filled with poetry. Bad poetry.

“What did you find?”

“Oh, it seems Hunter liked to write poetry,” I said. Allison laughed.

“Ugh, please don’t read any of it to me,” she said. “I had enough of that in boarding school.”

“I’ll bet it didn’t sound like this.” I began reading, “In the glen there is a secret, one I cannot, will not tell. In the glen there is a secret, for the ones who cannot see.”

“That’s ... really bad. Who was he writing that stuff for, anyway?”

“Who knows. I need to take it to my dad. This is the kind of thing he will look at and figure out.” I stuck the floral notebook in my box.

“Your dad is going to interpret poetry and solve the case?” she asked.

“Sure, what cop doesn’t enjoy a little iambic pentameter?” I countered. “I just hope I can remember to take it out of my car. Maggie will be glad to tell you that I have the messiest car in the family. I tend to get distracted and forget to bring the groceries in sometimes.”

I searched through the rest of the desk stuffed with receipts and bills, which I started stacking in piles. Allison started breaking down some of the boxes and folding them in the corner. I knew this would be a good time to talk about Danny.

“Allison, Danny just loves working with you.”

“And I love working with him,” she answered.

“Yes, well sometimes, when he’s around somebody who is young and pretty and ...”

“I get it. He has a crush on me?”

I felt relief flooding through me. “Yes! He has told me how wonderful you are.”

“He’s told me that, too.”

“Will you let him down easy?” I asked.

“Yes, I’ll tell him I have a boyfriend. That ought to help.”

“If you do, just promise you’ll do it very gently.”

“Of course,” she said and then hugged my shoulder. Danny was in good hands.