by V. M. Burns
Dixie bristled. “I think you’re despicable. Your poor mother has been devastated thinking you’re dead. What kind of person would do that to his own mother?”
Anger flashed across his face but quickly dissipated. “She’ll get over it. I had planned to tell her earlier, but once you stumbled across the body before Lynn could get there to identify the remains, I couldn’t just walk in and say, ‘Hey, Mom, I’m home.’”
I nodded. “So, Carol Lynn...Lynn was supposed to find the body.”
“Yep, you beat me to it.” She grinned. “But it all worked out in the end.” She grabbed the envelope and the plastic bag from the table. “It would have worked out perfectly if that nosy old geezer hadn’t been snooping and saw us moving Martin’s body.”
I nodded. “So it’s Martin Livingston in the coffin?”
“He claimed he had proof that could cost me my life.” He chuckled. “The United States government is all about free enterprise until they’re the ones getting duped.” He smiled. “I couldn’t stand by and let that happen. Not when we were so close.”
The room grew silent as Aggie gave up on barking and scratching at the back door. She ran down the deck stairs. After a few moments, I heard her barking as she ran around to the front of the house. I had forgotten to get the zip ties to lock the sliding latch on the dog pen, and she must have used her nose to open the latch.
One arm behind my back, I slowly felt for the bottle of wine I knew was immediately behind me.
Carol Lynn picked up the plastic bag. “We’ve been looking all over for this.” She smiled at me. “Dropped it in all of the confusion when we killed Martin.” She looked at me. “I searched this place from floor to ceiling. Where was it?”
I pointed to the golden. “The dog ate it.”
She stared at the plastic bag and gave Rusty a frown. “I never liked that dog.”
“Just grab the stuff, and let’s get out of here.”
“What are you going to do with them? You can’t leave them. They’ll be on the phone with the police before we can get out of the driveway.”
He pondered this for a minute. “We’ll have to take them with us.”
“You can’t be serious. We can’t get out of the country with three women and a dog in tow. Besides, she’s gotten really friendly with that TBI agent.” She pointed to me.
We heard a loud noise at the front door.
It was now or never. I grabbed the bottle.
Everyone turned toward the front door.
Aggie rushed through the laundry room door.
Robert Hansen relaxed when he saw her, which was his undoing. Red rushed through the laundry room door with a weapon aimed at Robert Hansen. He yelled, “Drop it!”
One of Hansen’s arms was still wrapped around Stephanie. With his other arm, he pointed the gun toward Red.
I grabbed the bottle and brought it down hard on top of Robert Hansen’s head as Dixie lunged for him and jabbed the corkscrew into his cheek.
Stephanie gave him an elbow to the solar plexus and wound out of his reach.
Aggie leaped into the air. She pounced at just the right place on his knee, which caused his legs to buckle.
Hansen dropped to the floor.
Aggie attacked his leg.
Hansen shook his leg in an attempt to dislodge Aggie. He looked at Rusty and pointed to Stephanie. “Fass!”
Rusty followed the direction of his owner’s finger.
The word sounded like “fahs,” and I recognized the command to attack from a video Dixie had shown me online when she was explaining Schutzhund dog training.
The color drained from Dixie’s face. “Oh my God!”
Rusty looked from Hansen to Stephanie.
Hansen tried again. “Fass!”
Carol Lynn stood dazed for a moment and then reached down to pick up the gun that Hansen had let slip from his hand.
Dixie kicked the gun out of reach.
Michael and Charity Cunningham crashed through the back door. Guns raised. “TBI! Drop your weapons!”
Rusty slowly walked to Stephanie and sat by her side.
Charity Cunningham took over for Red. She put her knee in Robert Hansen’s back and handcuffed him.
Michael had Carol Lynn bent over the table, hands behind her back.
Officer Lewis and several other policemen, some in plain clothes, some uniformed, poured into the house.
Red stared at me with a wild look in his eyes. “You okay?”
Unable to speak, I nodded.
He looked for a few more seconds, then turned and said, “Secure the premises.”
Chapter 24
It took hours for the police, EMTs, the TBI, and a host of other law-enforcement people to finish asking questions, even after Robert Hansen and Carol Lynn Hargrove were taken away.
We’d answered the same questions so many times, my answers became automatic.
After the initial shock of the situation wore off, my teeth chattered, and I noticed my hands shaking.
Red was standing nearby. “That’s enough,” he said to the officer questioning me. He inclined his head toward the door, and the officer packed up and left.
I stared in awe. “Thank you.”
Stephanie headed to her bedroom. “I’m going to lie down and call Joe.” She looked at the golden. “Come on, Lucky. Let’s go.”
“Lucky?” I asked.
She smiled. “I’m so lucky to have him in my life.” She looked at Dixie. “You can change a dog’s name, right?”
Dixie nodded. “Yep. I think Lucky will be the perfect name for him.”
They walked into the bedroom and closed the door.
Dixie stared at the door. “That’s one lucky girl too.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Dixie shook her head. “That dog was trained in Schutzhund. You saw how well trained he was.”
I nodded.
“I’ve never known a well-trained dog to disobey a direct order from his handler, but Lucky did.”
I took in a deep breath. “So I wasn’t mistaken.”
Dixie shook her head slowly.
“I wish someone would fill me in.” Red looked from me to Dixie.
Dixie looked at me, but I couldn’t have spoken if my life depended on it. She took a deep breath. “Robert Hansen gave Rusty a direct command to attack Stephanie: Fass.” She paused for the weight of her words to sink in.
“But he didn’t attack?” Red looked from Dixie to me.
She shook her head. “He didn’t attack.”
I found my voice enough to whisper, “Why?”
She shrugged. “If I had to guess, I’d say something changed. In that moment, he switched from being Robert Hansen’s dog to Stephanie’s. His allegiance changed, and he went from Rusty to Lucky.” She shrugged again. “Dogs are very sensitive. Maybe he smelled that something wasn’t right about him. Or he might have sensed Hansen was evil and knew what he was asking him to do was wrong.” She paused. “All I can say is that in all of my years of training dogs, I’ve never known a dog who was trained as well as Rusty to deliberately disobey a direct command from his master.”
We sat in silence for several moments and allowed the impact of her words to settle in. After a few moments, she shook herself and stood. “I’d like to stay and hear all of the details, but I’m worn out.”
“Maybe you should stay over. I don’t know if you should try driving up that mountain after everything you’ve been through.” I looked to my friend.
“Nope. I’m fine. I’m going home and get in the bathtub and soak. I may not leave until tomorrow night when it’s time for class.” She hugged me. “Good thing you forgot the zip ties.” She smiled at Aggie. “But you will need to get her trained. Don’t forget, we’ve got obedience class tomorrow.” She grabbed he
r purse off the counter and left.
I got up and went to the sink and wet a towel. We had removed the glass shards from the bottle I broke over Robert Hansen’s head, but the wine had dried and left a sticky film on the floor. Aggie had tried to lick up as much of the liquid as she could before I picked her up and confined her to her crate. According to Dixie, grapes were poisonous to dogs, and I didn’t want to take a chance on the effects of the toxins or fermentation on my six-pound poodle.
I scrubbed the floor to the best of my ability. When I rose, Red was staring at me.
“You okay?’
I nodded but realized I wasn’t and shook my head. I didn’t realize I was crying until the first tear fell. Once the tears started, the flood gates opened, and I stood in the kitchen bawling. I wasn’t one of those pageant contestants who was able to cry and still look cute. So I put my head down and turned away.
Red’s hands rested on my shoulders as he turned me toward him. His arms locked around me as he held me close.
I rested my head against his chest and cried until I had nothing left inside. I had no idea how long we stood there, me crying and him silently comforting me. When all of my tears were spent, I sighed. “I’m sorry.”
He reached down and lifted my chin so I was forced to look up. “Don’t apologize. If you hadn’t started crying, I might not have had the courage to do this.” He bent down and kissed me on the lips. At first his kiss was gentle and questioning.
It had been quite a while since I’d been kissed, especially by someone who wasn’t my husband. However, after the initial shock, my response was ardent. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my body closer. What started off as tentative turned into a passionate heat, which left both of us panting.
Red was the first to pull away. He stared into my eyes, and I saw a fire kindling inside. “Wow.”
I smiled. “Wow, indeed.”
The doorbell rang.
Red swore under his breath, and I giggled.
I started toward the door but stopped when he grabbed my arm and pulled me behind him. Momentarily puzzled, I looked at him.
His face was solemn. He removed his gun from its holster, motioned for me to remain where I was, and headed for the door. He cautiously approached the door and then looked out the peephole. After a beat, he lowered his weapon. His shoulders relaxed, and he unlocked the door.
Officer Lewis entered. The two men exchanged greetings.
I waited while the men joined me in the kitchen.
“I wanted to let you know Robert Hansen made a full confession.”
I sighed. “That’s good, right, so I won’t have to testify in court?” I motioned for Officer Lewis to sit.
“The district attorney and all the military lawyers are working on a plea deal. If Hansen spills his guts, he can spend the rest of his life in a prison cell courtesy of the state of Tennessee, rather than facing a harsher trial and penalty through the military.”
“What about Freemont Hopewell and Carol Lynn?” I asked.
“Hopewell had already started to sing. When he found out we had Hansen, he sang even louder.” Officer Lewis shook his head. “He claims he didn’t know anything about the killings.” He shrugged.
“I don’t think he did,” I said. “I think he told us the truth when he said he forged documents for Hansen. However, Freemont would never want to get his hands too dirty with something like murder.”
Red joined us at the dining room table. “And the girlfriend?”
“Claims she didn’t actually pull the trigger. She embezzled the money from the association and helped Hansen take the body into the woods, but she claims he’s the one that killed Martin.”
“She may not have killed Martin, but she did kill Theodore Livingston.”
Both men stared at me. Officer Lewis broke the silence. “How can you be sure?”
“She was there. I met her when Red and I were walking. She seemed flustered and angry, but that was mostly a show. The meeting to oust her as treasurer had already happened. I’d never seen Robert Hansen before the day he showed up to claim his dog.”
“He could have been in a car,” Red suggested.
I shrugged. “Maybe, but I remember at the association meeting when Theodore Livingston made a comment, ‘I know all the dirty secrets.’ I didn’t think much about it at the time. I thought he was just being his normal, hateful self. Now I think he was sending a message to Carol Lynn.” I stared from Red to Lewis. “Besides, I don’t think Robert Hansen would risk running into someone who recognized him after he was supposed to be dead.”
“He took a big chance coming for the dog,” Red said.
I nodded. “That’s why he was so skittish. When you threatened to take him to the police, he took off. He couldn’t risk you running his fingerprints and finding out who he really was.”
We sat in silence for a few moments. Officer Lewis’s gaze darted around as though he couldn’t figure out who to look at. Eventually, he took a deep breath and blurted out, “I’m sorry.”
I stared. “For what?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you when you said you hadn’t killed Robert Hansen or Theodore Livingston.” He sat up straight and looked at Red. “And I’m sorry for the things I said to you at the community building. I was out of line.”
Red’s lips twitched, but he got them under control. “No apology needed.”
The two men looked at each other, and some type of exchange took place. Officer Lewis rose. They shook hands, and then Red showed him out.
“What just happened here?” I asked when he returned to the table. “You two just had some kind of silent male bonding moment or something.”
He smiled. “Let’s just say we came to an agreement. He was wrong. He apologized. I accepted his apology, and now we’re fine. No harm done.”
“All that passed in that brief look?”
He chuckled. “Men don’t need to talk as much as women. I don’t need to hear about his feelings. It’s all good.”
I playfully punched him in the arm. “Fine.” I stood up and stretched. “Okay, I’m going to bed. See you tomorrow.” I released Aggie from the crate I kept in the kitchen.
She stretched as though she’d had a hard day. I looked at her and smiled. She was a fierce little dog and had fought valiantly. She deserved some extra treats and a lot of extra love tonight. I foresaw a trip to the pet store in her future.
“Wait. You’re just going to walk out?” He paused. “Just like that?”
I shrugged. “Why not? I’m tired, and it’s late.” I picked up Aggie and snuggled her close.
He stood. “Just like that.”
“Just like that.” I moved closer to the bedroom.
“But you can’t. We have to talk.”
“What’s left to talk about?”
“Oh, I don’t know. How about that kiss?” He smiled.
“I thought you didn’t want to hear a lot of talk about feelings?” I joked.
He walked over to me. “Okay, very funny.” His gaze searched my face. “Are you okay? Are we okay, I mean...I didn’t ask for permission, but you responded, and I assumed...I mean, I hoped that maybe you felt...” He sighed.
“Did anyone ever tell you, you talk too much?” I reached up and kissed him.
“So, this means...we’re okay?”
I nodded. “We’re okay.”
He smiled. Aggie was between us, and she reached up and gave his face a lick.
He smiled and scratched her ear. “This is one tough little poodle you have here.” He looked at me. “Just like you.”
I snuggled her close. “She is tough.”
“I think I better go home.” He kissed me again. “How about dinner tomorrow?”
I nodded.
He turned to leave but stopped. “Oh, I forgot, you have t
raining class tomorrow.” He gave Aggie another ear scratch. “You’ve done a great job already training her.”
“Actually, I think she’s the one who’s training me.”
Mystery bookstore owner Samantha Washington is trying to keep her grandmother from spending her golden years in an orange jumpsuit...
The small town of North Harbor, Michigan, is just not big enough for the two of them: flamboyant phony Maria Romanov and feisty Nana Jo. The insufferable Maria claims she’s descended from Russian royalty and even had a fling with King Edward VIII back in the day. She’s not just a lousy liar, she’s a bad actress, so when she nabs the lead in the Shady Acres Senior Follies—a part Nana Jo plays every year in their retirement village production—Nana Jo blows a gasket and reads her the riot act in front of everyone.
Of course, when Maria is silenced with a bullet to the head, Nana Jo lands the leading role on the suspects list. Sam’s been writing her newest mystery, set in England between the wars, with her intrepid heroine Lady Elizabeth drawn into murder and scandal in the household of Winston Churchill. But now she has to prove that Nana Jo’s been framed. With help from her grandmother’s posse of rambunctious retirees, Sam shines a spotlight on Maria’s secrets, hoping to draw the real killer out of the shadows...
Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of
V.M. Burns’s
THE NOVEL ART OF MURDER
now on sale wherever print and e-books are sold!
Chapter 1
North Harbor, Michigan
“What the blazes do you mean I didn’t get the part?” Nana Jo’s face turned beet red, and she leapt up from her chair.
I had never been so happy for a slow morning crowd at the bookstore as I was at that minute. My grandmother was about to blow a gasket, and while it might prove entertaining, I preferred keeping the drama contained to family and friends.
“Josephine, calm down.” Dorothy Clark was one of my grandmother’s oldest friends, which was probably why she was nominated to break the bad news to her.
“Don’t tell me to calm down. I am calm. I’m always calm.” Nana Jo pounded the table with her hand. The mugs shook and splashed coffee on the table. “If I want to kick up a ruckus, I’ll kick up a ruckus.” She pounded the table again and then marched over to the counter and grabbed a dishcloth to wipe up the mess.