Saddle Up for Murder

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Saddle Up for Murder Page 9

by C S McDonald


  “Hey!” Vic called after him. Detective Landry turned around. “What’s goin’ on with Romeo Navarro? You think he killed Devyn?”

  “Sheriff Paxton believes he did,” Detective Landry supplied.

  “Ya know, I bumped into Romeo. He said he was comin’ from the casino. We was walking through the stables when we heard the yellin’ and screamin’ about the loose horse on the backside. Someone said it came from Sperling’s stable. We headed in that direction to see if we could help grab the horse, but we ran into Jillian. She told us not to go that way, cuz they’d just found Devyn Youngwood dead and the police was closin’ down his barn.”

  “So where did you go?”

  “We got some coffee at the cafeteria. Romeo took his to go.”

  “Did you tell Sheriff Paxton this?”

  “He’s small-town police, you’re big-city police, I don’t know which is worse. He ain’t never questioned me. Now, what’re you gonna do about it?”

  “Not my jurisdiction. Not my case, Mr. Deveaux.”

  Vic tossed his hands in the air. “Well, ain’t that a bag of boogers.”

  Detective Landry winced. “Something like that.”

  TEN

  A contented hush had fallen over the house. Harriet and Sting were cuddled up on the couch, snoring. The glorious smell of pot roast drifted throughout the rooms. Fiona was certain the meat would be tender and delicious. With a blue linen tablecloth draped over her arm, she found herself staring at the table. She wasn’t absolutely sure how many place settings she’d need because she wasn’t exactly certain how many guests she would have. Yes, Chad would be in attendance, and when Mom heard he was coming, she was thrilled. However, her little brother had never made it clear if her father would be joining them or if he was still in Daytona. Fiona allowed herself to be tentatively hopeful that her dad would show up. How would Mom react if he came?

  Would she be relieved?

  Would she be angry?

  Would Mom be in a forgiving frame of mind?

  Fiona shook her head at the thought. Did she actually believe her mother needed to be in a forgiving mood?

  Did she believe her father was guilty of what Mom was accusing him of? Having an affair?

  With Claire Boyer?

  Seriously?

  Claire Boyer?

  Nooo.

  “Fiona…are you going to put the tablecloth on? I’ve got the plates,” Mom said, breaking through her musing.

  “Oh, sorry.” Fiona quickly smoothed the cloth over the table. “I’ll get the silverware.” When she turned, movement from outside the window caught her eye. She pinched back the curtain. Someone had set up an easy-up tent in the Dingle’s front yard. Fiona let go of the curtain to move to a different window to get a better look. From her new position, she could see Astrid had set up a small card table and was placing Clementine in the middle. Yikes. “Mom, have you seen this?”

  Mom stepped away from the table to look over Fiona’s shoulder. “Yes, I did.”

  “I don’t believe it. What is the woman thinking? Why doesn’t she advertise in the paper or on social media, like other people do? This is just insane. Didn’t you tell me that you used to visit with a fortune teller? Madame Esme, or something like that?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Well, I’ll bet Madame Esme didn’t set up a lemonade slash fortune-telling stand on her front lawn. People are going to think she’s crazy. People are going think…Wait…” Fiona let the curtain tumble back into place. Suspicion rolling through her gut, she spun around to face her mother. “You went to see Astrid, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I did.” Tucking the last napkin next to a plate, Mom retreated into the kitchen. “Seriously, Fiona, let it be. So, the woman is telling fortunes from a tent. Let it go. If you don’t need anything else, I’m going upstairs to take a shower before dinner.”

  Blowing out a frustrated breath, Fiona surrendered to Mom’s rationale. If Astrid wanted to tell fortunes on her lawn, why should she care?

  Not so fast.

  Mom had just confessed to having a session with Madame Looney Tunes.

  Fiona scurried into the kitchen.

  Mom was gone.

  She dashed down the short hallway toward the foyer to catch her mother about to climb the stairs. “Okay, are you going to at least tell me what went on?”

  “What went on, when?”

  “When you went to see Astrid. What did she say? What was your fortune or future or whatever?”

  “We never got that far,” Mom supplied.

  “Why not? What happened?”

  Mom sat down on the steps. “Let’s just say things didn’t feel right, and then things went terribly wrong. I know who was at the root of it all, Gram.”

  Uh-oh.

  “I’m not surprised.” Fiona took a seat on the stairs next to her mother. “What happened?”

  “It doesn’t really matter what happened. I didn’t get my fortune told. I have to admit, I was miffed…then after I thought about it for a while, I remembered why she felt so strongly about fortune-tellers.” Mom glanced up the staircase, then her gaze met Fiona’s. “I don’t think I ever told you this before. The summer before I graduated from high school, we went on a family vacation to Atlantic City. Your Aunt Jeanie and I were enthralled by the boardwalk, all the shops, the Ferris wheel…and the fortune-tellers. Jeanie and I couldn’t wait to have our palms read. I have to say, that trip got me hooked on visiting with Madame Esme when I went to college the next year. Anyway, we talked Gram into having her fortune told.”

  Fiona snorted. “I would think she’d be game. She always seemed to embrace new things.”

  “Um, we had to do some coaxing, but finally, on the last day of the vacation, she agreed. Well, the fortune-teller strongly hinted that something bad was about to happen. Gram was shaken to her core. She barely said a word all the way home. To tell you the truth, we were surprised how seriously she took the fortune-teller.”

  Pressing her hand to her chest, Fiona let out a gasp. “Oh! The year you graduated from high school?” Mom nodded yes. “Isn’t that the year—”

  “Your grandfather died, yes. Well, your grandmother felt it was all her fault. She should have never gone to see the fortune-teller. I think that’s why she has been having all those unpleasant reactions toward Astrid that you’ve told me about.”

  “Did Gram know you visited with Madame Esme?”

  “I never told her.” Mom pushed from the step and glanced up the stairs. She knows now. That said, be assured, I’m done with fortune-tellers. Now, I’m going to get that shower before your fa…I…I mean before everyone starts arriving.”

  Watching her mother climb the stairs, a stab of sorrow pinched Fiona’s heart. It seemed Mom was expecting Chad to bring Dad along. Where are you, Dad? She pulled her cell phone from her pocket to check her messages. Nothing. She started to thumb a message and then stilled.

  What use was yet another text message?

  Dad would either show up or not.

  At this juncture, there was positively nothing she could do, other than start making the biscuits. Good idea, baking would get her mind off…

  Who was she kidding? Baking wouldn’t help one bit.

  Grabbing the square newel at the base of the stairs, Fiona hoisted herself to a standing position, then made her way into the kitchen. Fresh and sassy from their nap, Harriet and Sting were wide awake and prancing along on her heels. After all, she was on her way to the kitchen. Upon entering the kitchen, she immediately noticed an open bag of Cheetos on the counter. Mom had been doing a lot of snacking since she’d arrived. Not good.

  Fiona opened the pantry to grab the mixing bowls Gram once used and the supplies she’d need to make the biscuits. She carried the items to the counter and set them down only to knock the bag of Cheetos to the floor.

  Ugh!

  Of course, the dogs were as quick as furry little ninjas to get at them. She let them have the cheesy treats that had spilled a
bout the floor while she set up her supplies, but soon, they had gulped them down and were taking turns sticking their heads into the open bag to get more.

  “C’mon, guys, let’s not make ourselves sick,” Fiona scolded, scooping up the bag and lobbing it onto the kitchen table. She rinsed her hands off, then returned to her task. The dogs flopped down on the floor and pouted up at her with orange little snouts.

  As Fiona put ingredients together, mixed, and cut out the biscuits with a round cookie cutter, she did manage to unwind a little. She was gently arranging the biscuit dough onto a baking sheet when Chad’s voice called from the foyer. “That pot roast sure smells good. When do we eat?”

  Dropping the last biscuit into place, Fiona spun around with great anticipation in her heart, only to be disappointed by the sight of her brother, and only her brother, stepping into the room. “Oh, it’s just you,” she muttered.

  “Good to see you too, big sister,” Chad groused.

  “I’m sorry,” she said then kissed him on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re here. I was just hoping—”

  “I never said Dad was coming, Fi.”

  “What is he doing, Chad? I know you know. Their anniversary is coming up quickly. I want an anniversary, not a divorce.”

  “C’mon, Fiona, can you even imagine Mom and Dad getting a divorce? I’m thinkin’ no.”

  “You’re right. Mom probably made him super mad, and he’s trying to teach her a lesson. Good luck with that. Have a seat. I need to get these biscuits in the oven,” she said, turning back toward the counter.

  “Whoa, Fiona, Mom must have you under a ton of stress. Most of these Cheetos are gone. You’re gonna be a real load before this is all said and done.”

  With the baking sheet in hand, Fiona glanced over her shoulder just in time to see him pop several Cheetos into his mouth. She opened her mouth to stop him, but then thought better of it. “Yeah…I’ll have to keep that in check.”

  Chad looked down. Harriet and Sting were sitting up pretty. He tossed several of the cheesy pops to the pups. He chuckled. “Looks like I’m not the only one who gives the dogs treats. They’ve got cheese all over their snouts.”

  Snickering quietly, Fiona placed the biscuits in the oven. She’d no sooner set the timer when Nathan walked through the front door.

  “I can taste that pot roast melting in my mouth right now. How soon ’til we eat?” He called from the foyer. He stepped into the kitchen, gently lifted Fiona’s hair and kissed her neck.

  Fiona let out an enchanted sigh.

  Chad let out a groan.

  Nathan turned. “Hey, Chad, how’ve ya been?”

  “Can’t complain,” Chad added under his breath, “Until just now.”

  Nathan pulled up a seat at the table with Chad and then slipped his hand into the bag of Cheetos to grab a few. Fiona swiftly snatched the bag from his reach.

  “No!” Promptly, she chucked the bag into the trash. Noticing Nathan and Chad’s shocked reaction to her nimble move, she cleared her throat and softened her tone, to add, “You’ll ruin your dinner.” In her peripheral view, she saw Chad raise an eyebrow while glancing down at the cheesy-faced pups. Narrowing his eyes, he ran his tongue over his teeth.

  ELEVEN

  The pot roast was as delicious as everyone had anticipated, and Mom’s disappointment over Dad’s absence was as apparent as anticipated. Yep, Dad’s empty chair was the big fat elephant balancing on one foot in the middle of the table.

  Mom picked at her food.

  She moved her meat from one side of the dish to the other.

  Letting out an unsettled sigh, she’d manage a tiny bite of her mashed potatoes, followed by a louder sigh.

  Meanwhile, Fiona, Chad, and Nathan swapped uncomfortable glances.

  Finally, Nathan muddled up, “So, Chad…how’s work going? I know you started that new IT job not long ago. For an accounting firm downtown, right?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been there about five months. Good…it’s going really good. I like it. It’s good.”

  “That’s good,” Nathan said.

  “Good. So, how’s your father, Chad?” Mom asked. There was a bite in her tone that Fiona was certain no one had missed.

  Chad stopped chewing. His eyes met Fiona’s. She smirked. He said, “Um…I really haven’t talked to Dad recently…er…I haven’t talked to him in the past day or two. Actually, I haven’t talked to him much at all.”

  Mom pitched him a look. Both Fiona and Chad were most acquainted with the look. Mom was wearing the classic don’t mess with me look. “So, which is it, Chad? You haven’t talked with your father recently, in the past day or two, or not much at all?”

  Chad’s jaw worked, but nothing was happening.

  Fiona nibbled on a cuticle. She was so thankful it was Chad in the hot seat and not her.

  Nathan pushed up from his chair, made his way to the far corner of the room, picked up an antique floor lamp, adjusted the lamp to shine directly on Chad’s face, then turned the light on.

  Yeah, literally the hot seat.

  Chad scowled.

  Fiona snorted under her breath.

  Mom asked, “Well, which is it, Chad? I know you know what’s going on. So, just fess-up. Is your father having an affair with Claire Boyer?”

  “I know he bought a ring.”

  Mom’s eyes grew as big as cue balls. Fiona gasped. Chad bit down on his lip hard as if he’d revealed something he shouldn’t have.

  Returning to his seat at the table, Nathan reached for the gravy boat.

  “Oh, would you look at that,” Fiona began. “The gravy is almost empty.” She snatched the gravy boat before Nathan was able to wrap his fingers around the handle and headed for the kitchen.

  There was a knock on the door. Fiona hesitated for a moment. She noticed Harriet and Sting completely ignored the summons. They were far too hopeful for scraps from the table.

  Chad leapt from his chair. “I’ll get it!”

  “Thanks,” Fiona called over her shoulder.

  Chad jogged out of the dining room, through the living room, and into the foyer to open the door where a strange-looking woman stood. Her hair was loosely tucked up under a purple turban. A long black cape lay over the porch floor behind her, and underneath, she was sporting a long purple dress. “Can I help you?”

  “Hello, I’m Astrid Dingle. I’m the next-door neighbor. Are Fiona or Nancy about?”

  Chad blinked back. “Charlie Dingle got married?”

  “I’m his sister.”

  “Oh, okay. I’m Fiona’s brother, Chad. C’mon, this way.” Chad led Astrid into the dining room. “Hey, Mom, you’ve got a visitor.”

  Mom’s eyes widened. “Astrid…what a surprise. Um…have a seat, why don’t you?”

  “Thank you, I will.” Astrid glanced around the table. Rather than take the empty seat without a place setting, she sat down next to Nathan, at Fiona’s full plate of food. “This looks wonderful. I do so miss family dinners,” she said, picking up the fork and stabbing it into a piece of roast. “It’s just Charlie and I nowadays. Most of the family is gone. I’m having a bit of success at keeping in touch through seances, but it’s just not the same.” She stuffed the meat into her mouth. Around the mouthful, she moaned, “Ooh, that is absolutely yummy. Can you pass the pepper, Fiona’s boyfriend? I’m so sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

  Handing her the salt and pepper, he replied, “Detective. Nathan. Landry.”

  She took the spices from him with her right hand but grabbed his wrist with her left. Gasping, she exclaimed, “Oh! I’m getting a strong sensation from you, Nathan.” Closing her eyes, she lifted her face toward the chandelier, while breathing in deeply through her nostrils. She opened her eyes and shrugged. “Meh, now it’s gone. Sometimes that happens, it comes, and it goes.” With that, she began to pepper the mashed potatoes.

  “Astrid. What are you doing here?” Fiona asked, succinctly, as she made her way toward the table balancing a full gravy boat. Na
than reached for the boat only to have Astrid take it from Fiona. She poured a generous portion over her potatoes.

  “I dropped by because Clementine has sent a message for Nancy.”

  Nathan turned to Fiona. “If you’re hungry, you’ll need to get a plate.”

  Fiona plopped into her father’s vacant chair. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

  Snorting, Chad asked, “Who’s Clementine, and what kind of message does she have for Mom?”

  “Clementine is Astrid’s crystal ball,” Mom put in. “I’m not sure I’m interested, but I did pay you twenty-five dollars, so let’s have it. What great vision has Clementine had that involved me?”

  “She claims you’re going to get married.”

  Mom blinked back. “I am married, Astrid. I know I told you that.”

  “Well, maybe you’re gonna get re-married. Honestly, sometimes Clementine can be infuriatingly vague,” Astrid explained.

  “Oh, my God! Maybe it’s not me who’s getting remarried. Maybe it’s Garrett! Chad said he bought a ring!” Mom yelped.

  Everyone at the table sat straight in their seats staring slack-jawed at the fortune-teller. Fiona’s annoyed glare rotated to Chad, who shrugged at his older sibling.

  Just then, Nathan’s cell phone rang to shatter the tension. Digging for the phone, he pushed away from the table. “It’s Tavia, excuse me.” He pressed the phone to his ear while moving quickly toward the foyer. “Talk to me, Tav.”

  Fiona jumped up to follow Nathan.

  Chad turned to his mother who was holding her chest while staring at Astrid. “Isn’t it cute how they have a mutual interest, murder?”

  “Oh…maybe that’s the strong sensation I was getting from him,” Astrid mumbled while taking another scoop of mashed potatoes from the serving bowl.

  Nathan turned down the volume on his phone then pressed the button for the speaker so Fiona could hear what Tavia had to say. “Found your girl, Jillian Jewel. I’m sure you know, she’s an apprentice jockey at Mountaineer Racetrack. She has a website dedicated to her riding. It’s well done but not very helpful to us. My next stop was her social media page, it says she’s in a relationship but doesn’t say with who. I looked through all her photos and photo albums. Unfortunately, other than pictures with fellow jockeys, some of which are male, there are no pics that hint of a romantic interest. There’re several pics of her with her father. He’s got a really fun nickname, Fats.”

 

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