Dogs and More Dogs, Another Murder

by Christa Nardi

  “Isn’t that a long commute?”

  He took a drink of coffee and a bite of the coffeecake. “About twenty minutes. Not bad, really. About the same as for Brett.”

  “And Justine?”

  “There’s less in our records about Justine. Justine and Herman married in their late twenties. Her maiden name was Hartfelt. No criminal record. First driver’s license was issued in Roanoke.”

  He shrugged and then continued. “They had two children, Jacob and Helen. They all lived in the house that had been in the Stoneham family for generations with Herman’s parents. Both children went to college and got professional degrees. By Justine’s fiftieth birthday, both of them had moved from Clover Hill permanently. Herman continued to work at the bank.”

  “Have you located either of the children?”

  “I spoke with both of them. Helen should arrive tomorrow and Jacob on Wednesday. Helen shared that Justine and Herman visited her a few times in Seattle – right after the birth of each of the grandchildren. Jacob said the same. He lives in Atlanta. Both indicated they’d occasionally come back to Clover Hill, but hadn’t been back since Herman retired.”

  He shook his head. “They said they were too busy with their jobs and kids. Helen said she called every couple of weeks and talked to Justine less than a month ago. Justine told her Herman was sleeping.”

  “But how did Justine and Herman function?”

  “Ahhh. Apparently, the beauty of technology. When Herman retired, Helen helped them file the paperwork for his pension and social security with direct deposit. She also set up autopay for all the utilities, taxes, Herman’s credit card, and any other recurring expenses. Herman used his credit card for groceries and whatever else they needed. Helen was certain he also kept cash somewhere in the house to pay a housekeeper and a young man to help with the yard.”

  “And we know Dan was the most recent of the young men?”

  “Right. He said he’s been doing the odd jobs around the house for two years now. He gave me the name of the person who did it before him, all through high school. The school counselor passed on the information to Dan when the other person was about to graduate and leave Clover Hill.”

  “What about the housekeeper?”

  “Helen didn’t have any information – and she was a lot more talkative than Jacob. Dan only remembers seeing Herman once, a long time ago. Described him as ‘crotchety’ and he didn’t question where he was. Usually, he only saw Justine.”

  “All very odd. Did the daughter know about the dogs?”

  “No, she was surprised when I asked if Justine mentioned getting a dog. Sounded like Herman wouldn’t allow dogs or cats. She doesn’t know about the condition of the house, either.”

  “Oh, my. She is in for a surprise from what I’ve heard.”

  “That’s for sure. I think they plan on staying there. I asked her to meet me at the station before going to the house – I told her it was still a crime scene.”

  “That’s probably a good idea.”

  “Sheridan, it might be good if there was a woman available when I meet with her and take her to the house. Would you be willing? Maybe you could explain the hoarding thing.”

  His request surprised me, yet it also intrigued me. “I should be able to help out. Just let me know when and where.”

  “Good. With all that, Sheridan, what questions come to mind?”

  “For starters, Atlanta is a lot closer to Virginia than Seattle, so why is Helen getting here first?” He shrugged and shook his head.

  “Okay, we’ll let that go. What happens to the property? Who benefits from Justine’s death – regardless of whether or not they knew Herman was deceased already?”

  “We haven’t located a will as yet, so the estate will go to probate and likely to Helen and Jacob unless someone else comes forward.”

  “Is there any record of someone who wanted to buy up the land? Anyone checking on the deed or who owns it? Maybe someone who wants the land to put up new condos and figures the heirs will surely want to unload it?”

  He leaned back and scratched his head. “I hadn’t thought of that possibility. Definitely something to look into. Thanks.”

  He stood to leave. “I checked by the way. One of those email addresses is Lacie’s at the station. Best guess is the other is a personal account. I have someone doing a complete scan of all her emails and phone calls at the station. How many hits did you get on the rest of the rescues?”

  “A lot. I think we may have some place for most of them. I’m going to Pets and Paws in a little while to figure out which ones and how many are left.”

  He nodded. We walked to the door and he stopped. “Did you hear they found four or five more dogs at the edge of the property hunkered down in a shack. Dr. Barksdale has them now.”

  I shook my head. “We’re due for another freeze. I hope there aren’t more out there.”

  He nodded and left. A glance at my watch, and I realized the course would have to wait until after I worked with Mrs. Chantilly to get more dogs to a new location. With the start of school, she’d lost Luke and many of the other volunteers.

  CHAPTER 13

  Chaos was in full play at Pets and Paws when I arrived. I opened the door and was greeted by three puppies, who all tried to escape. The good news was they were now healthy enough to run around. The bad news, they were running around. I yelled for Mrs. Chantilly and didn’t get a response. Collecting the puppies, I deposited them where they belonged and grabbed the baby gate in the hall to keep them contained.

  Barking got my attention and I hustled over to the other area. Not a great idea – all the dogs greeted me loudly. I spotted two more puppies amidst the crates and moved them to the other room. A quick peek into the last room and it was obvious that no one was watching the dogs in the house. That left the garage, where I found Mrs. Chantilly.

  “Oh, Sheridan. I’m so glad you’re here. Cocoa died you know. Lacie was so attached to her. Now, she won’t get another dog. And that Glenn Peabody, does he care? No, he still won’t let her go back to work. So what if some of her sweaters were found in the house. I give clothes to Goodwill all the time. I guess if Justine had been the same size as me, I’d be a suspect.”

  I blinked, confused. Lacie was nowhere in sight. “Hi, Mrs. Chantilly. Is anyone helping you out today? I understand if Lacie’s dog died, she might not want to be here.”

  “Oh, that was a long time ago, don’t you know? I think she’s running errands. Yes, that must be it. I got a call from someone, Francie or Marcy or something like that. Anyway Paisley and Plaid are with a foster. The same folks took a few others, too. I made notes of where they went on the clipboards. Now we have fewer dogs down here.”

  “I have great news. I think I found places for a few more. Let me just check and see which ones have been picked up already. Hopefully, with all the rescues coming forward, the remaining dogs could be moved to the house? How many do you think there’s room for up there?”

  “What a great idea. I don’t think Luke or Susie are coming in until later. I should get back to the house. You let me know if you need anything, okay?”

  She turned around and scurried away. I checked the clipboards and from the times noted I figured out that Luke had been there before school. I confirmed with the rescues there were homes for four more of the dogs and marked their clipboards with the information on who was coming to get them and when. I checked food and water and did quick walks with each of the dogs.

  My goal before leaving was to get some answers and help Mrs. Chantilly figure out next steps. I only had an hour before I needed to pick up Maddie from school. I heard voices as I approached the front door – one of which I recognized as belonging to Blake Buchanan, the other Mrs. Chantilly.

  “Dora, you need to listen. The police are still combing through everything. If Lacie is responsible, she will have to face the consequences. You may not be able to protect her.”

  “So, they found a few sweaters with L
acie’s name on them. She explained she routinely donated clothes when she’d outgrow them. I was always on her about her up and down weight, not eating right, not getting enough exercise.”

  “Listen to yourself. When was the last time you had a heart to heart with her before this whole mess.”

  “Well, it seems like yesterday. I’m going to go lie down. I’m not feeling well.”

  “Dora…”

  And then silence. I decided now was as good a time as any to open the door and collided with Blake.

  “Sorry, so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you all right?”

  “Yes, Mr. Buchanan, I’m fine. Do you know if Mrs. Chantilly figured out if there was room to move the dogs from the garage to the house?”

  He blinked a few times before he answered. “I don’t know. As long as I’m here, why don’t we do a walk through. I’m sure she’ll be back down in a few minutes. She went to … uh…freshen up.”

  He nodded and turned around. We stopped where the crates with the original residents were. “Hmm. Do you think we could fit one more in here? I can check with Dr. Barksdale about it if there’s room.”

  He straightened the crates a bit on one side and then the other. While he did that, I checked all their clipboards and greeted each of them. I’d need to do more than that before I left unless Susie or Luke showed up.

  “I think maybe two. Let’s check the other rooms.”

  At the mamas and pups, I dropped some not so subtle hints. “What we need in here are four very large crates or partitions. A few of these puppies are rambunctious and the mamas aren’t quite up to the job yet.”

  He nodded and laughed as one puppy tried to escape through the opening in the baby gate. “Or at least a better baby gate.”

  The last area on the other side only had six smaller dogs, some of them older puppies. There was possibly enough room for eight more. Once the four were picked up, maybe Luke could move the remaining dogs inside.

  “Sheridan, have you seen Lacie today by any chance?”

  If not for the conversation I’d overhead, I wouldn’t have thought anything of it. I answered cautiously, “Mrs. Chantilly said something about her dog dying?”

  He exhaled and looked away, as if lost in thought.

  “That was a long time ago. Lacie’s dog died in her arms when she was 12. She blamed her parents – she’d told them the dog was sick and needed to see the vet. Her father was a drunk and gambled away all their money. He didn’t care about Lacie or the dog and just tossed the dog in the trash. Then he told Lacie she’d better be careful or she’d join the dog.”

  He shook his head. “She … she became quite a problem at home, in the community, and at school. I always believed it was so someone would take her out of that house. It’s hard to see the scars left by emotional abuse. It took a year and then some time in juvie before she moved in here with Dora.”

  “And she ended up working for the police? That’s impressive. I’d count that as a positive outcome.”

  “I hope you’re right, Sheridan. Unfortunately, there’s a lot of circumstantial evidence right now and all of it points to Lacie.”

  We both turned as we heard Luke’s “hello.” Inasmuch as Mrs. Chantilly hadn’t come back down, I gave him the information on the rescues and fosters. I also shared that it looked like when the next batch were picked up, the others would fit, albeit in close quarters, in the house. That would at least make keeping track of them easier.

  At home, I grabbed the mail and sorted through the after holidays sales, the January sales, the early Valentine’s sales, a few bills, and an envelope with no return address and a typed address label with my name misspelled.

  I was about to presume it was somebody wanting money when I realized it had no stamp. It had been placed in the mail box by somebody, not the mail person. I opened it up and almost laughed out loud. Someone had created an electronic version of the letters people might get in the old mysteries I loved to read with words cut out from other places and pasted together – only electronically with “cut and paste.”

  The message was simple. “Mind your own business lady.” I carefully set it down, with the envelope, out of the way of my food preparation. When Brett got home, I shared the letter with him. He shook his head and used tongs to put both in a plastic bag. Maybe the person left fingerprints. Although there were no threats, whoever had left it knew where we lived.

  CHAPTER 14

  I poured myself a cup of coffee, my wake-up fix. Brett cleared his throat. “I’m glad you’ve helped Mrs. Chantilly get the dogs all squared away, but until this murder is solved and Lacie exonerated, I’d feel better if you weren’t involved in the investigation itself.”

  I bristled at this recurring theme. “I’m not ‘involved’ in the investigation, Brett. I’m only helping the Chief with his meeting so there’s someone there if she gets upset. My only ‘investigation’ has been to figure out where all the dogs came from. As for Lacie, I barely talk to her except about the care of the dogs in the garage. The only information she shared was for me to mind my own business.”

  He groaned. “What is your take on her? As a psychologist? Do you think she’s the one who sent the letter?”

  I tried not to smile. He always wanted me not involved and then asked my opinion. “Blake told me she was emotionally abused by an alcoholic father, rebelled, and that’s how she ended up with Mrs. Chantilly. From what I’ve seen, she’s withdrawn and doesn’t choose to interact with people beyond what’s absolutely necessary. Definite trust and betrayal issues. I guess that works as a dispatcher – just the facts, no small talk. On the other hand, she’s … Willie called her a ‘dog whisperer’ and that fits. She communes with the dogs, calms them, and they respond to her.”

  “You get along with the dogs. So does Nedra. How is she different?”

  I glanced away and tried to find the words to explain it. “These dogs. All abandoned. She’d talk softly and they’d stop whining or howling or growling. It was as if she soothed their pain, their suffering, and their fears, one at a time, effortlessly. Nedra and I? We loved on them, cleaned their cages and made friends, but it wasn’t the same ‘peace’ she gives them in an instant, and we didn’t always know what the problem was. She did. They spoke and she heard what they said.”

  “Could she get them to act on her behalf? You know, prompt them to attack someone?”

  I cringed at the thought. “They didn’t act protective of her or react when any other dog growled at her.”

  I hesitated, knowing I hadn’t answered his question. “I suspect she is capable of training them to attack or herd or anything else. And then, yes, they would respond to her prompt. Of that I am sure.”

  He scowled and glanced at his watch. “Time to go. Stay safe and remember the daughter and son aren’t just victims, they’re possible suspects.”

  He cut my eye roll short with a quick kiss goodbye. Maddie bolted out of her room and with a quick “I’m late” disappeared out the door. Thankfully, she managed to catch the bus. I cleaned up and then headed to the station to meet the Chief and Justine’s daughter.

  At the station, I noticed a woman about my age sitting on a bench. She had reddish brown hair, cropped, and wore glasses with dark rims. She had a heavy coat and boots. Nice boots. Engrossed with her phone, she didn’t seem to notice I was studying her. She shook her head at whatever she read and her shoulders slumped.

  I checked with reception and was advised the chief would be with us promptly now that I arrived. I toyed with the idea of introducing myself but decided to let the chief explain my presence. It would be better coming from him. I no sooner sat down and the door to the back opened and Chief Peabody appeared.

  “Mrs. Wharton?” The woman nodded and stood. “I’m Chief Peabody. Thank you for meeting with me. I’ve asked Sheridan Hendley to sit in as she may be able to help in some way.”

  I joined them as he said my name. At her puzzled expression, I offered, “Glad to b
e of help, Mrs. Wharton. I’m a psychologist though mostly I teach at a local college. I also volunteer with the local dog shelter.” She nodded but her tight lips indicated she wasn’t thrilled.

  “I have coffee set up in the conference room. Shall we?”

  I nodded and followed behind Mrs. Wharton to the conference room, which was not too fancy and not too shabby. I immediately zeroed in on the coffee pot. To feel useful, I played hostess and poured everyone coffee. Once we were settled, Chief Peabody cleared his throat.

  “Mrs. Wharton, this is an informal meeting, however, I’d like to record the interview. My note-taking skills are not all that great. Is that agreeable with you?”

  She nodded. He turned on the recorder and provided the date and identified the three of us before beginning. He scribbled something on his notepad as well.

  “Mrs. Wharton, as I explained on the phone, earlier this past week your mother, Justine Stoneham, was found, deceased, at the family home. Subsequently, we located the grave for your father, Herman Stoneham, in the backyard.”

  “How? What happened? I’m having a hard time understanding this.”

  The chief started at her questions, his face showing his surprise. “As I explained, as best as the coroner could determine, your father died of natural causes, approximately twelve months ago, maybe as many as eighteen. This is consistent with the last time anyone actually saw him or talked to him as far as we can determine.”

  “That can’t be right. I spoke to my mother just a few weeks ago. I called at least once a month to check on them.”

  The chief leaned forward. “And when was the last time you actually spoke to your father?”