by Diane Capri
“Did you know her well?” I asked.
Sunglasses nodded. “Oh yes, we live just across the street.”
It was then I realized they were sisters. Maybe even twins. They were the same height, same body structure, and same head full of curly white hair.
“Did you know about Lulu?” I asked.
Blue nodded. “I know she was horrid to that poor animal.”
Whoa. Hadn’t expected that. “Really?” I frowned. “How so?”
“Oh, she would yell at it,” Sunglasses said, “and one time, I saw her kick it.”
“She wasn’t a very good person,” Blue added with a knowing nod to Sunglasses.
“Nope, she sure wasn’t.”
“Did she fight with all the neighbors?” I asked.
“Oh yeah. I don’t think anyone really liked her,” Blue said. “Still a shame what happened to her.”
Sunglasses nodded. “Such a shame.”
“How about Mr. Rainer? Did he fight with her a lot?”
“Oh yeah. They had frequent battles.” Blue lowered herself onto the little seat on her candy-apple blue walker. I swore I could hear her bones creak as she did.
“Always arguing about Lulu,” Sunglasses said. “I don’t think he liked how she treated that dog. Would never come out and say it, though, but it was in his eyes.”
“Yeah, out of everyone on the block,” Blue said, “Clark disliked Ida the most. She knew it, too. She said to me once, ‘I swear that man’s going to kill me one day.’”
Before I could respond to that, the sheriff pulled up in his jeep. He parked behind the cart, got out, and walked over. Well, swaggered, actually. I wanted to ask him what was up his butt, but I had a feeling the answer might be…me.
Blue elbowed me in the side surprisingly hard and wriggled her eyebrows comically.
“Ow.” I rubbed at my potentially bruised rib.
“Ladies.” He tipped his hat to the elderly women, who were both blushing.
“Hello, Sheriff,” Sunglasses said.
His gaze landed on me. “Andi.”
“I didn’t think you’d show up.”
“I take all reported crimes seriously,” he said, “I also called Daisy to come get the dog. She can take care of it until matters get settled with the next of kin.” He tipped his hat again, then walked up to Mr. Rainer’s door and knocked.
Both Blue and Sunglasses watched him walk away with twin appreciative tilts of their mouths.
“Mmm, he sure does fill out a pair of blue jeans,” Sunglasses said.
Blue fanned her rosy face. “If only I were twenty years younger.”
Sunglasses eyed her. “Twenty? More like forty.”
“I’m a cougar,” Blue shot back. “Isn’t that what the kids say nowadays?”
I sputtered into my hand, nearly choking.
Blue nodded at me. “You should get busy there, dear. He won’t stay single forever.”
I put my hand up. “Oh no, no, he’s so not my type.”
“What? You don’t like handsome, rugged men with an air of authority?” Sunglasses actually shot me that gurrrl look that Ginny always gave me when she thought I was full of crap.
“I do. It’s just, um, the sheriff and I don’t, uh, mesh well.”
“You’re a pretty girl. He’s a handsome boy,” Blue said. “What else is there to mesh?”
“Well, I kind of would like to actually like the man I want to mesh with.”
Blue waved her wrinkled, ring-laden hand at me. “That’s so overrated. Passion is where it’s at.”
Sunglasses nodded in agreement. “Amen, sister.”
I looked toward the house and noticed that Sheriff Jackson had already gone inside. After what the ladies had told me, I had a fleeting thought that maybe I had made a mistake in calling the sheriff. If what they said was true about Mrs. Walker and her treatment of Lulu, maybe Mr. Rainer had actually rescued the dog from a horrible situation. I didn’t necessarily agree with the action, but I definitely sympathized with the motive. In similar circumstances, I may have done the same thing. My cats, Scout and Jem, were both rescues. If anyone ever mistreated them, that person would be in a world of hurt.
The gals were chatting away beside me; I didn’t think they even noticed I wasn’t listening. Not until something Blue said drew my attention back to them.
“I’m sorry…what did you just say?”
“That her great-nephew, Peter, did everything for that woman, and she treated him like a servant.”
I shook my head. “No, you said something about Peter’s wife, Colleen Walker.”
“Now there’s a woman just as cranky as Ida,” Sunglasses said.
“So true,” Blue agreed. “She never waves hello when she’s here. Didn’t even acknowledge me this morning. And I was out in the yard plain as day, smiling at her while I watered the roses.”
“You saw Colleen this morning?” I asked.
Blue nodded. “Yes, it’s Tuesday. She checks in on Ida every Tuesday and Friday mornings.”
“What time?”
She pursed her already puckered lips. “I’d say mid-morning.”
“It’s was around eleven,” Sunglasses added, “because Ellen was on.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Blue nodded.
This was getting more complicated as the day progressed. If Colleen was indeed in Mrs. Walker’s home around eleven, that meant she was there very close to the time of death.
When I discovered her at the bottom of the stairs, Mrs. Walker hadn’t been dead too long. I needed to share this info with the sheriff—pronto. I had learned from last time that withholding information and evidence would only get me into some serious trouble with him. I didn’t want to go through anything like that again.
Before I could ask any more questions, Daisy joined our little neighborhood powwow. She’d ridden her bicycle here from the kennel. I made a mental note to offer her a ride back to the kennel in the golf cart. We could strap the bike on the back, no problem.
“Hey,” she said as she stood beside me and looked up toward the Rainer house. “Interesting turn of events.”
“Yeah, after what you’d told me, I was beyond shocked to see Lulu happily in his house.”
She shook her head. “I’m having a hard time believing it.”
I leaned in closer to her. “These ladies have been telling me that Mrs. Walker wasn’t nice to her dog.”
She scrunched up her face. “Maybe. I never saw it. If I had, I would’ve done something about it.”
The door to the Rainer house opened, and Sheriff Jackson walked out, carrying Lulu under his arm. Mr. Rainer followed him out. He was wringing his hands and looking extremely distraught. My stomach clenched. If I’d had any doubts about how Mr. Rainer felt about the dog, they completely vanished.
“She likes to be scratched on the belly,” Mr. Rainer said as he trailed after the sheriff down the porch steps to the front lawn. “And she only likes bacon treats—not the hard ones, the soft ones. The hard ones hurt her teeth.”
“Okay, Mr. Rainer.”
Daisy met them halfway. The sheriff handed Lulu to her. She petted the little dog’s head gently. “She’ll be well looked after, Mr. Rainer. I have a bunch of nice pups she can play with.”
Chewing on his bottom lip, he nodded. “When do you think I can have her back?” he asked the sheriff.
“I don’t know, Mr. Rainer. It’s going to be up to the next of kin.”
He snarled. “That Peter couldn’t take care of a pet rock, let alone a precious dog like Lulu.”
“I’m sorry,” the sheriff said, “but you’ll just have to wait and see how this plays out. Daisy will look after her until we can get it all sorted.”
Mr. Rainer nodded, then he looked over at me as I waited on the sidewalk in front of the house. His glare sent a shiver down my back. “You should’ve kept your nose out of my business.” He turned to go back into his house, mumbling the rest of that statement. I could hear “girl,�
�� “stupid,” and a curse word in there somewhere.
Daisy gave me an apologetic look.
“I can drive you back to the kennels,” I offered.
The sheriff stepped in the way. “I’ll drive Daisy back. I need to fill out some forms for her.”
“Oh, okay.”
“You should go back to the hotel.” He tipped his hat to Blue and Sunglasses, then picked up Daisy’s bike and slid it into the back of his jeep.
“I’ll see you later,” Daisy said, then jumped into the passenger side.
I watched as they drove away, a ball of regret in the pit of my belly. For some reason, I felt like I had done the wrong thing. Which was a new one for me. I always tried to do the right thing, no matter what. But this time, I might have screwed up.
Blue patted me on the shoulder. “Don’t fret, dear. Not everyone likes a busybody.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I didn’t. The ladies ambled across the street to their house. I slid into the golf cart and drove away.
Chapter 9
Lois was waiting for me, arms crossed, at the side entrance to the hotel. She didn’t look happy to see me. I cringed. It was bad enough having Samuel on my case every day. The last thing I needed was Lois giving me a hard time, too.
“Come this way, Andi,” she said as she moved away from the doorway and into a quiet alcove. I had no choice but to follow, although I felt like I was marching to the gallows or something.
She turned to face me when we were away from prying eyes and ears. “You need to be careful, Andi. Samuel is not happy that you’re here. He thinks you’ve brought negative attention to the Park. Ginny’s been running interference for you, and she’s his favorite. But he won’t let you damage the Park’s reputation, no matter how much he loves his granddaughter.”
I couldn’t believe she was accusing me of causing problems for the hotel just because I’d been the one to find that body in the maintenance room by the pool. Why did everyone conveniently skip over the fact that I’d solved the murder, too? Wasn’t that worth something?
I said none of that. Instead, I bit my tongue and nodded. “Of course. I don’t want to cause any trouble for any of you.”
“Henry’s not happy with you, either,” Lois said, and my jaw dropped. Henry was her dead husband. She acted like he was still living here at the Park. Several times, I’d caught her talking to him as if he were in the room with her. I knew Ginny was worried about her, and so was Eric. But right at the moment, I figured discretion was the better part of valor where Henry was concerned.
I simply nodded. “Okay, Lois. I’ll do better.”
“See that you do,” she replied before she turned and left me standing there, wondering if she’d totally lost her mind. Did she think Henry was a ghost? Surely talking to ghosts was a sign of some level of nutty, wasn’t it? I shook my head when a shiver ran over me. I needed a break, for sure.
When I got back to my suite, a postcard from San Francisco was on the floor inside my door. It must’ve been slipped under—someone’s version of mail delivery for the staff at the hotel.
I set the letter on the table. Curious who would send me a postcard, I flipped it over. There was some Russian scrawled at the top, then it said: Sorry I couldn’t do more for you. Regards, Beatrice Sorokin.
Beatrice Sorokin. One of the many clients of our law firm that Jeremy had bilked. She had been one of my favorites, and I’d spent a lot of extra time just chatting with her because it seemed to please her, to have someone to talk to about nothing in particular. And she had the cutest little dog, too. I was surprised but happy that she’d written to me.
I appreciated her words, but I wondered what the Russian meant. I had no idea that Beatrice was Russian. Smiling, I set the postcard on my shelf in between a photo of Miss Charlotte and one of Ginny and her family.
The Park family photo included Henry. He and Lois seemed happy in this photo, which was taken a couple of years before he died. I’d met Henry several times when I visited Ginny’s home while we were in college. He’d always treated me well, and I’d liked him. He didn’t look at all like his father. In this photo, though, Samuel was as dapper as ever.
I glanced briefly at the photo of my parents taken a dozen years ago. They looked happy, too. I shrugged. Photos always seemed to capture people when they were at their best. I never saw family photos where the people were angry or crying or anything.
It had been a while since I’d seen my parents. They didn’t come home for my college graduation. They didn’t come for my law school graduation, either. I’d been to Hong Kong a few times since they moved, but it was such an arduous trip. Once I entered law school, I’d started volunteering at the legal aid clinic, and then I’d graduated and got a job right away. Thinking back, I guess I hadn’t seen them in about ten years. Hard to believe. Where does the time go?
I slapped the fish fillet into a small frying pan, seasoned it, and put it on a burner. I wasn’t much of a cook, so this would be an interesting experiment. The clerk had made it sound so easy, but I couldn’t bake the fish like she said. I didn’t have an oven. I crossed my finger and said a quick prayer that this would work. Just in case, I took the batteries out of the smoke detector.
As I watched the fish sizzle, I thought about all the meals I’d had with Miss Charlotte. She was an amazing cook and had tried to teach me, but nothing ever stuck. I could boil eggs, make ramen noodles and a decent dressing for a salad, but beyond that, I was lost. It wasn’t that I couldn’t follow a recipe. I could quite easily—I was good with directions. But I didn’t understand the flavors and what spices went with what. I was completely clueless about all of that. Cooking well was more than a nuance, a desire for which I just hadn’t been able to cultivate.
Of course, my mother was of no help. I was sure she had never cooked a day in her life. Even if she could’ve cooked, she wouldn’t have bothered to teach me. I often wondered why my parents had even bothered to have me. I shrugged. Probably because having children was expected of them at the time. To fit into their small group of haughty friends. After they were offered the chance of a lifetime and moved to Hong Kong, I’m sure it was anything but convenient to have a teenager and her nanny to support back in the States.
After I flipped the fish, I made a simple green salad with raspberry vinaigrette. I put the meal on a plate and took it out onto the patio to eat. The evening was too nice to waste by staying inside. That was definitely one thing I didn’t miss about my condo in California: the view. There, all I could see from the patio was the condo building next door and the tiny green space between them. Here, it was all big blue sky, green cliffs, and the expanse of the turbulent Lake Michigan beyond.
I took a deep breath of cool, fresh April air and smiled. This was all pretty awesome right now. I took a bite of fish, surprised that it tasted good enough to eat, and looked out over the hotel grounds. I had a decent job, a nice place to live, and my best friend Ginny to lean on when I needed to. I missed my cats, though. Having them with me would have made my room perfect. I had trouble sleeping without them nearby.
Maybe it was time I started thinking seriously about getting a place in the village. Rent might not be too high. Not like in California. My place there had cost thirty-five hundred a month, and that had been the rate for the past two years. I’d ask Ginny about moving out of the hotel soon. Maybe she’d have some suggestions.
I glanced at the framed photos again. Mom and Dad were standing together at the entrance to Club Paradise. The building was impressive enough, and the interior was even more lavish. They’d been offered the opportunity to manage the club originally. When the owner died, they’d bought the club from the family. One of the reasons they rarely came back to see me, they said, were the demands of running an exclusive private club across the globe. I’d always felt they were making excuses. But now that I’d been living and working at the Park, I had a better appreciation for the challenges my parents, Drew and Emily, must face, t
oo.
I glanced at my phone on the coffee table. I felt like it was challenging me. I studied it a few seconds while I chewed and swallowed. Oh, why not? I’d need to talk to them sooner or later, anyway. I took a deep breath, hit the speaker button, and placed the call. It took a few moments to connect before I heard the ringing sounds. They were a bit delayed. After the tenth ring, I was surprised to notice how disappointed I felt as the call flipped over to voice mail.
I cleared my throat. “Hi, Mom. Dad. I’m having dinner and called to catch up. You must be busy. Call when you can.” I paused half a moment before I added a quick and breezy, “Love you.” I disconnected the call and tossed the phone aside.
While I was finishing the last bite of my meal, there was a knock on my door. I went to answer it and found Lane from the front reception standing there with a giant bouquet of flowers.
“Hey, Andi. Special delivery for you.”
I opened the door, and he carried the lavender vase of pink and purple flowers in and set them on my coffee table. The arrangement matched the décor of my suite.
“Wow, these are gorgeous. Who are they from?”
He made a face. “Don’t know. June’s delivery guy, Todd, brought them to the front for you.”
I frowned. “Does Todd work at the D&W as well?”
“I have no idea.” He shrugged. “I’ll see you later.”
“Okay, thanks.”
He went to the door and let himself out.
I grabbed the small white card nestled inside the flowers. It read, “Thinking about you.” No name. I bent forward and inhaled the rich aroma of the pink lilies and purple violets. Whoever sent these had to have known I had a weakness for those two flowers. Were they from the handsome mayor of Frontenac City? Daniel could easily have weaseled my flower preferences out of Ginny.
Setting the card down on the table, I grabbed my purse and rummaged inside my wallet for Daniel’s business card. I fiddled with it for a minute, staring at the phone numbers, wondering if I should call him. But what if the flowers weren’t from him? Then I’d look like a fool. A desperate one at that.