Foal Play: A Mystery (10 page)

Charlie’s eyes darted back and forth between the reporter and Colleen like a panicked child caught dumping his meat loaf dinner in the garbage when he thought his mother wasn’t watching. Colleen slowly moved her index finger over her lips to signal him to be quiet. Charlie imitated her gesture, winked, and then ran away behind the church. Yeah, Colleen thought, crazy like a fox.

“I think that means ‘no comment,’” she said to the reporter and suppressed a grin.

“What about you, Chief?”

She looked straight into the camera. “I’d like to invite everyone out to the firehouse this Saturday from eight to twelve for our pancake breakfast to raise money for the junior lifeguard program. The crew will be flipping up the best pancakes on the island and giving tours of the station. And, as always, we’ve got Bingo Night tonight starting at eight. Thank you, Mr. Anderson, for this opportunity to speak with everyone. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said, breezed past the reporter and his cameraman, and strode toward her vehicle.

“Chief McCabe, I’ve got a few more questions,” the reporter said as he tried to keep up, his cameraman in tow.

She picked up her pace. As she reached the middle of the lot, the doors to the chapel swung open and the bell began to toll. Colleen grinned. As she had hoped, the reporter quickly forgot about her and was now preoccupied with getting statements from mourners emerging from the church.

Bill exited and headed toward the road to direct traffic. He stopped when he reached Colleen. Would he resume their earlier conversation? “Where’s Charlie?” he asked, scanning the lot.

“Charlie?” she said, temporarily thrown and a little disappointed. “Oh, he took off when the reporter started asking questions.”

“I’ve got a few of my own to ask him,” Bill said. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You had a rough … ride out of the church.” Bill’s lip quivered and then he burst out laughing. “Giddyup, horsy,” he said between chuckles.

“Stop it,” Colleen said, trying to be stern but unable to contain a giggle of her own.

It felt good to laugh with Bill again. She had missed that. As it subsided, however, the awkward tension that had been between them all week returned. Bill spotted mourners getting into their vehicles and put his sunglasses on.

“Well, I’d better direct traffic.”

“Right,” Colleen said and forced a smile.

Bill strolled toward the road. Colleen sighed, then donned her sunglasses and strode to her SUV. She hopped in, started the engine, and pulled out before the rest of the mourners. As she approached the parking lot exit, Bill waved her out onto Corolla Village Road. She watched Bill’s image diminish in her rearview mirror. She hoped at some point she could repair her relationship with him and that the rest of the day proved less eventful than the morning.

“All the 4’s,
Droopy Drawers, 44!” Colleen heard Kenny Ward, one of her firefighters, cry from inside the station as she slammed her driver’s-side door closed. “3-0, Dirty Gertie, blind 30!… All the 5’s, Snakes Alive, 55!” came a second and third call as she crossed the parking lot. Colleen smiled. Kenny Ward was busy practicing his calls for their weekly Bingo Night. All had returned to normal.

Colleen avoided Kenny and instead found Jimmy working on one of the tankers around the side of the building. “Hey, Jimmy,” she said, not wanting to startle him.

“Hey, Chief,” he said, putting down his tools. “How was the service?”

Colleen told Jimmy about Myrtle’s memorial service and her bumpy ride from the chapel, warned him that the scene would likely make the news, and told him that they should expect the press. It took Jimmy several minutes to stop laughing. She tried to appear irritated but couldn’t. Jimmy’s reaction was to be expected. If she hadn’t been the one bouncing around on Charlie’s back she’d think it was funny, too. She knew already she’d be teased by her men. There was nothing they liked better than a good ribbing.

After speaking with Jimmy, Colleen called Sparky and they quickly headed down Dolphin Street to the beach. She didn’t want to be around as the story of her ride on Charlie’s back spread through the station. The salt air would help her think and right now she needed to figure out how to tell Myrtle about being upstaged at her own memorial service. Besides, Sparky was happiest when he had a job to do and chasing the sandpipers would fit the bill. Sparky found the boardwalk between two beach houses and disappeared over the dunes. Colleen followed and made her way across the sand. She waved hello to one of the lifeguards and continued up the beach. Sparky galloped in front of her, his tail swinging happily in circles as he splashed after the birds.

As she passed vacationers boogie boarding in the surf, Colleen wondered what she was going to tell Myrtle about the memorial service fiasco. Normally, she’d carefully edit out the details that might cause someone pain or alarm, but she was fairly certain the entire incident had been caught on video and was currently being edited for broadcast on tonight’s local news. She could naïvely hope that Myrtle wouldn’t see the story, but after being cooped up at Colleen’s house for a week Myrtle had become addicted to television and adept at programming the digital video recorder. Myrtle would have undoubtedly recorded any coverage her memorial service received.

Colleen had discovered Myrtle’s TV addiction a few nights ago when she saw the red light on her DVR come on to signal a recording was in progress and realized Myrtle had set the machine to record a celebrity drug rehab show in place of Colleen’s favorite crime drama. Myrtle had also become an expert on celebrity gossip and regaled Colleen with the details each night at dinner. If she didn’t figure out soon who had tried to kill Myrtle—and succeeded in killing someone else—Colleen worried that next week Myrtle would be on her computer blogging about the trials and tribulations of being held captive by a former third-grade student nicknamed Leenie Beanie. She needed Myrtle out of her house and she needed her out pronto.

Sparky barked. Colleen squinted up the beach. The dog gingerly approached the overturned shell of a dead horseshoe crab. Sparky’s head was down and cocked and his back haunches raised in true Border collie fashion. The canine inched toward the shell and pushed at it with his nose as if herding the ancient sea creature.

“Sparky, heel,” she said, trying to get him away from the corpse.

Sparky responded by rolling on his back, his legs flailing happily as sand sprayed around him. Despite his disobedience, she couldn’t help but smile. At least one of them was having a good time.

Colleen reached Sparky frolicking in the sand. She allowed him a few more minutes to enjoy himself, then snapped her fingers to signal it was time to return to the station. Sparky popped up and shook himself, sending sand flying everywhere. The dog was going to need a serious bath. “Sparky, station, now,” she said and he took off back to the firehouse.

By the time Colleen made it to the station, she had decided that when she got home after Bingo Night she would tell Myrtle the whole bizarre story about her memorial service without any omissions. There was just no getting around the truth.

Colleen welcomed the cool air of the station and quickly bounded up the stairs to her office before any of her men saw her. She had a lot of paperwork to catch up on and e-mails and phone calls to return. She plopped into her desk chair, turned on her computer, grabbed the mound of paperwork and messages on her desk, opened a file, and began making her way through the stack.

*

Colleen heard the click of nails on the stairs and the panting of a hot and hungry dog. Sparky made his way to her desk and put his head in her lap. Was it time for dinner already? She glanced at the clock on her computer and was surprised to discover that several hours had passed. Bingo players would be arriving soon. She closed the folder she was working on, stretched back in her chair, and rubbed Sparky behind the ears.

“How about you and I get something to eat?” Sparky wagged his tail and trotted toward the stairs. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, stood, and followed him.

“Giddyup, Charlie!” “Yeehaw!” “When’s your next rodeo, Chief?!” came the whooping calls from the firefighters as Colleen reached the first floor where the bingo tables were set up. The men laughed and hollered. Colleen felt her face grow warm and searched the room for Jimmy.

“Sorry, Chief,” Jimmy said with a shrug and a smile.

“No, you’re not,” she said, grinning and swatting at his arm. The men were loving her humiliation and there was nothing she could do about it. It was going to be a lively Bingo Night.

She was thankful to see the first bingo players arrive. The game would take the focus off her and the chapel incident. The room soon filled up, mostly with regulars and a dozen or so vacationers. Colleen worked the crowd, greeting locals and visitors with equal regard. Bingo Night was always good for public relations.

Colleen watched Nellie enter and pause before taking a seat at the end of the table where she and Myrtle usually played together. As Colleen made her way across the room to say hello to Nellie, Bill entered. He surveyed the room and spotted Colleen. She forced a smile and a wave. He gave a slight nod before his attention was diverted by an elderly woman requesting help finding a seat.

“Are we ready for bingo?!” came Kenny’s loud and enthusiastic cry. The crowd erupted in spirited cheers and a few playful jeers. Colleen grinned. No wonder Kenny lived for Bingo Night. The players loved him.

As Kenny began calling the first numbers, the players’ eyes focused intently on the cards in front of them. Now would be a good time to feed Sparky and give him a bath. Colleen searched the room. No Sparky. She knelt and scanned the sea of legs under the tables.

“Looking for something?” Bill asked.

Colleen straightened. “Sparky. He’s in desperate need of a bath. Have you seen him?”

Bill inspected the room. Just then a visitor entered with Sparky at his side. “I believe he’s just arrived,” Bill said. “And he’s brought a friend.”

Colleen blinked in surprise. Sparky was not prone to befriending strangers. In fact, he was typically shy with people he didn’t know. The man rubbed Sparky’s ear. Sparky wagged his tail with pleasure. Colleen’s eyebrows raised in amazement at seeing her dog lean affectionately into the stranger’s thigh.

Colleen studied the man as she crossed the room to retrieve her dog. He was rather stocky, perhaps even a little doughy around the middle. He sported a short haircut and a peculiar, wispy black mustache that didn’t quite match the color or texture of his graying hair. And there was something oddly familiar about him. What was it? The hair? The posture? The clothes? Colleen took a few more steps, then stopped in her tracks. The clothes. Where had she seen that Hawaiian-print shirt and straw fedora before? It took her a second and then her mouth opened in shock. That was her father’s shirt and hat from her guest room closet! The man standing in the entrance with her dog was no man at all. It was Myrtle in disguise!

Colleen stared at the disguised Myrtle in dumbfounded astonishment. The sounds of the bingo game turned to white noise. She locked eyes with Myrtle.

“Is something wrong?” Bill asked.

“What? Oh, no, I, uh…” Colleen said, dazed.

“You want me to take care of this?” Bill asked, his hand reflexively reaching for his gun.

“No! I mean, he’s, um…” she stammered as, much to her horror, Myrtle approached.

“I’m her uncle,” Myrtle said and thrust her hand toward Bill. “Mitch Connelly. You must be Sheriff Dorman.”

“Yes,” Bill said and took Myrtle’s hand.

Colleen fidgeted as Myrtle vigorously shook Bill’s hand. Bill smiled at Colleen, amused at the hearty handshake. She forced a weak smile in return.

“You didn’t tell me you had family in town,” he said.

“Yes, well, my Uncle Mitch has been staying with me. His visit was … unexpected.”

There was an awkward moment of silence and then Bill burst out laughing. Colleen’s heart sank. The jig was up. He knew it was Myrtle.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, afraid to hear the answer.

“The other night … when I came over … after the fire…” Bill said, tears of laughter streaming down his face.

Colleen raised a quizzical brow at Myrtle. Myrtle shrugged. What was Bill finding so amusing? Then she got it. Bill was laughing because he thought the man he had heard the other night at her house was her uncle, not a romantic interest. She smiled with relief. Myrtle forced a hearty chuckle. When Myrtle’s laugh got to be too much Colleen’s smile disappeared, certain Bill would see through the disguise.

“I owe you an apology,” Bill said. “I thought your uncle was … well, I thought he was a—”

“Boyfriend?” Myrtle asked. “Come on, Sheriff. You know my little Colleen hasn’t caught herself a buck yet,” she added, pouring on the machismo.

Colleen’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Would you excuse us? I’d like a word with my
uncle,
” she said through gritted teeth.

“Not at all,” Bill said, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Nice to meet you, Mitch.”

“Nice to meet you,” Myrtle said before Colleen dragged her outside and away from the bingo game and Bill’s watchful eyes.

“Are you insane?!” Colleen asked once they were out of earshot.

“What?” Myrtle said, feigning innocence.

“What do you think you’re doing? And what gave you the crazy idea to dress up in this ridiculous costume?”

“For your information, I was president of the thespian society in college. I played all the male roles. And in case you didn’t notice, this ridiculous costume fooled Sheriff Dorman,” Myrtle said, her fake mustache flapping with each breath.

“It didn’t fool me … or Sparky.”

“I’m tired of being locked away. There’s only so much television one person can watch. When I saw the news broadcast of my service—”

“About your service—” Colleen interrupted, ready to apologize.

“What a hoot! I almost peed my pants. Can’t stand those stuffy, weepy funerals. It even made the news. Wait till you see yourself bouncing around on Crazy Charlie.”