by Marja McGraw
Dolly was beginning to pace. I’d said all the wrong things. “Basement, shmasement. Who cares? It was still in her house. I should be more understanding, but I was so happy to have her and Tammi here that I sort of forgot the circumstances that brought them to me.”
“But they’re safe now that they’re staying with you. So quit worrying.” Ha! That was like telling a bee to quit buzzing. And Dolly was buzzing. “I think I’d better take Bubba and go home before I make things any worse.”
“I’m sorry, Sandi. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m finally realizing what happened, and I don’t like it. My granddaughter isn’t a murderer, and I think maybe I’ll have to call the police – ”
“Bye, Dolly. Call me if you need anything.” I hurried Bubba out the door, ready to head home. If Dolly was going to call the police, I didn’t want to be around. I turned and stuck my head back inside. “If you call them, ask for Detective Chase.”
I was grinning as I walked home. Let Don Chase deal with Dolly. She’d give him a wake-up call.
I prepared Bubba’s dog food and set his dish on the floor, ready to eat my own dinner. Adding water to his dry dog food created gravy, and he lapped it up noisily while I sat down at the kitchen table with my chicken. I finished eating long after Bubba licked the last drop of gravy off the edge of his bowl.
There was one phone call that I knew I had to make. This time I was happy to dial the number.
“Mom,” I said, when she answered.
“Sandi? I thought you didn’t want to talk to me. Is all forgiven? I am back on the old hormone pills, by the way. You were right. I feel pretty good. Even Frank noticed a difference.”
“Good, Mom. I’m glad you feel better. I, uh, well, I wanted to call and thank you for giving me such a normal childhood.”
“What?” She paused, apparently surprised. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. You and Dad were so normal. I was happy. You can’t imagine what that means to me.”
“Why, thank you, Sandi. I know things were rough after your father died, but I suppose things were good until we lost him. I’ve always felt bad that you had to grow up too fast.”
My father died of a heart attack at a relatively young age. He’d made some business mistakes – well, not actually mistakes. He’d used other people’s money when he shouldn’t have. He was a good man who’d done something dumb. I could excuse him, but those who’d lost their money couldn’t. I understood. My mother and I had been left to try to clean up the mess.
“It’s okay, Mom. Things could have been a lot worse. The way our lives were after Daddy died prepared me for what I’m doing now. And I don’t mind about the way things turned out. Honestly.”
“I know that now, honey, and I wasn’t always the easiest person to get along with. You know, when I was your age there was no name for what I went through. Now they call it PMS, or PMDD, or some such thing. Combine that with the stress from what happened to your father, and I was a walking time bomb.”
“You weren’t that bad, Mom. A little moody sometimes, but not bad. The menopause is definitely worse.” Damn! Why couldn’t I learn to keep my big mouth shut? Would I ever get the hang of it? “I’m sorry.”
“No need to be. I know things have been rough, but it’s steadily getting better.” My mother laughed. “As long as I don’t forget to take my hormones.”
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, but what’s going on? Why are you feeling this way?” My mother didn’t know what to make of my mood, but she was smart enough to know something was causing it.
“It’s a case I’m working on. The people involved didn’t have such good childhoods, and it makes me appreciate mine.”
“I see. Whatever’s going on has put you in a melancholy mood, hasn’t it?”
“Um, yeah, but it’ll pass.”
“When are you and Pete going to come see Frank and me? You’d love the desert, Sandi. This is a great area. Don’t forget, we’ve got Laughlin, Nevada, right across the river from us. You know; shows, food and gambling. It might make a nice little vacation. And we can take you two out on our boat. The lake is beautiful, and the weather will be pretty warm before long. There are lots of tourists here in Bullhead City, but it still isn’t like L.A.”
She was trying to entice me, and it was working. I might want a vacation after Chrissy’s case.
“We’ll talk about it after I wind this up, Mom. Tell Frank ‘hi’ for me, will you? I’d better hang up now. I’m going to spend the evening relaxing.”
“Alright, sweetie, you take care. I love you.”
We hung up, and wouldn’t you know, before I could even turn on the TV the noises started upstairs again.
“Not now!” I yelled.
Chapter Forty-two
Bubba and I had gotten into a routine. He sniffed the air and headed for the back door at a dead run, if you can call lumbering running, while I stomped up the stairs. There didn’t seem to be anything to be afraid of because nothing had ever happened other than the noises. Oh yeah, and the clothes with the tears in them.
I slowed down as I remembered a previous case where a man had taken a knife and shredded a client’s clothes. I’d seen him do it, and it was ugly. So I decided this time I’d sneak up on whoever, or whatever, was up there. It was time to start using my P.I. smarts and catch the culprit in the act.
Creeping up the rest of the stairs, I was careful not to make a lot of noise. I waited a moment, listening. Most of the sounds had stopped, except for a scratching. Tiptoeing over to the attic door, I gently placed my hand on the knob and pulled gently.
I opened it slowly, forgetting how old the house was, and it made a loud creaking noise. I quickly pulled it open the rest of the way when I heard the attic window scraping against the frame. My eyes automatically went to that window, and I stopped dead in my tracks.
My heart pounded as I saw something filmy and ethereal float out the window and disappear.
“There’s no such thing as a ghost,” I said to myself. “There’s got to be a logical explanation for what I saw. I don’t believe…” I didn’t know how to finish my thought. I knew what I’d seen, but I also knew I had to be wrong.
Pulling myself together, I ran to the window and looked out, hoping to see someone climbing down the roof. Nothing. No sign of anyone. I giggled. It was a nervous reflex.
I pulled on the window as hard as I could so it would close and I could latch it, only to discover that the latch had come right out of the wooden frame. At least now I knew how someone had been able to get in and out of the window. It had to be a someone, and not a something.
One of the boxes I hadn’t gone through yet was lying on its side with the contents spilled on the floor. More clothing. Didn’t anyone ever throw the old stuff away?
I raced down the stairs and into the kitchen where I picked up the phone, dialing Dolly’s number as fast as I could. Bubba was standing at the back door with his nose glued to it. He wanted outside.
“H-Hello?” I had no time for her timid and squeaky voice.
“Dolly, it’s Sandi. Is Miss Kitty at home?” I reached over and opened the door for the dog.
“She’s right here, Sandi.” She paused. “Are you having attic problems again? Because if you are, well, it’s not my Miss Kitty.”
“Thanks. Talk to you later.” I hung up.
Running outside, I found Bubba hiding under the barbeque table. He hung his head and wouldn’t look at me.
I ran around the house, looking up at the roof and trying to see if anything looked out of place. The attic window was at the back of the house, and that’s where I concentrated my search. There were parts of the roof that I couldn’t see without moving back farther. There were bushes in my way, and I pushed between two of them, wincing as they scratched my arms.
I gave up, realizing if anyone had been up there, they were long gone. I sighed and sat down on the bench at the barbeque table.
“It’s okay, Bub
ba. It scared me, too, this time. But we’ll get to the bottom of this.”
He tentatively licked my hand. I gave him a pat.
“Come on, pal, let’s go back inside.”
My canine cutie followed me slowly back to the house. He stuck his head inside and sniffed before entering.
What on earth was going on? Noises, babies crying, shredded clothing, and now something floating out the window? I couldn’t make any sense out of it. But as a savvy private investigator, I knew there had to be a reasonable explanation. And I was more determined than ever to figure it out.
I didn’t feel any fear about the house. Of course, at least for the moment, I knew no one was upstairs.
I found a basket where I kept tools and fished around for a hammer and a long nail. I’d bought all kinds of things for my basket because I figured living in an old house might require some minor repairs from time to time. One day I’d have to break down and buy a real toolbox.
Taking the nail and hammer, I headed for the attic, knowing I’d have to do something about the window or forget sleeping for a while. I planned on pounding the nail right through the bottom part of the sash and into the sill.
Before I could even reach the stairs, the phone rang. I answered it and heard Dolly’s voice.
“Sandi, I’ve been pondering your attic situation.”
“Come to any conclusions?” I asked.
“Well, it has to be a person and not Miss Kitty. I mean, my dear, think about it. Only a human with hands could push that window up to open it.” She chuckled. “Unless we have a monkey hanging around the neighborhood.”
“The only problem with that theory is that the window swings open. It doesn’t slide up and down, Dolly.”
“I see. Hmmm. Maybe the wind?”
“Good thought, but it swings outward.” Bless her little heart, she was trying.
“All right, I’ll ponder it some more and see if I can come up with any other good ideas. I think I’ll mention this to the neighbor ladies and ask them to keep their eyes open.”
“Thanks, Dolly. And if you think of anything, let me know. I’m not getting anywhere on my own.”
We hung up and I turned back to the stairs.
Bubba sniffed, and not sensing anything, he followed me up. He got as far as the attic door before he chickened out. He opted to lie down, placing himself between the door and the stairs, leaving an escape route where he could still keep one eye on me. My hero? Not at the moment. I tried to remind myself of how protective he’d been when John Frendd had behaved threateningly.
I studied the window, deciding on the best place for the nail. Making my decision, I made my first strike. The wood splintered and wouldn’t take the nail.
“That’s it! I’ve had enough of this.”
I stomped back downstairs, snapping at Bubba to get out of my way, and began searching through closets. I thought I had a piece of plywood somewhere that would cover the window. Not finding it, I grabbed my backpack. I knew the hardware store would still be open.
“Bubba. Wanna go bye-bye?”
He leaped up and pranced impatiently by the front door while I locked the back door.
“Okay, let’s go.” I opened the door and he hurried down the steps and waited for me by the car. He was learning quickly. He’d placed himself by the rear door.
“Good boy. How can one dog be so smart?” I gave him a tickle scratch under his chin.
We drove to the hardware store where I bought not only the plywood, but more nails and a toolbox. I asked the clerk if he could recommend a good glass company, knowing I’d have to replace the old window in the attic. He didn’t know of anyone and suggested I check the phonebook, all the while giving me his what a moron stare.
“I’m not stupid,” I said as I left, “but I thought you might know of someone.” I gave him a well-deserved dirty look and left.
Driving home, I remembered a guy I’d used to replace a window at the office after it had been broken. I thought I might have kept his card, and knew it would be at the office. It wasn’t that far out of my way, so I drove over and looked for it. While Bubba nosed around the room, I also checked messages.
There were two from Jack Gless, the agent who’d hired Pete to go to Tahoe, wanting to know what was going on. I’d pass the message on to Pete and let him handle it.
There was one from another agent who wanted to know why I hadn’t been in the office all week. I’d get back to the woman and apologize for missing her calls. I needed to move things back on track and take care of my other clients. I’d been neglecting my work because of Chrissy’s situation. I’d have to do some schmoozing to keep everyone happy.
But first, I needed to clear Chrissy. I knew she wasn’t a viable suspect, but I didn’t want this hanging over her head. And there was the matter of my own curiosity. I needed to know who’d killed John Frendd, and why. He was basically a local drunk. Granted, he’d been giving Chrissy a hard time, not to mention scaring her, but so far I couldn’t see any reason for someone to kill him.
After loading Bubba back in the car, I drove home, ready to take care of business. I was going to nail the board over the attic window until I could have it replaced. And I wanted the repair guy to put a good, sturdy lock on the new one. Really good, really sturdy.
I nailed the board in place and pulled on it, making sure it was secure. It was. I’d been worried that it might not stay up because of the old wood splintering, but it seemed to be holding tight.
And, of course, about that time the phone rang again. I left my hammer and nails on the floor and ran down to my bedroom to answer the extension.
“Sandi, it’s Pete.”
“Hey. How’s it going up there? Did your guy wake up from his nap yet?”
Pete laughed. “He sure did. The doctor is examining him right now, but he knows I’m here and waiting to talk to him. The nurse said she’d let me know as soon as they’re done. She knows the local cops are on their way and that I want to talk to him before they get here.”
“So what are you laughing about?” He hadn’t said anything too humorous yet.
“I gather he knew we were following him, and he’s more worried about talking to me than to the cops.”
“Why would he be afraid of you?”
“The nurse and I talked a lot while I waited around here, and apparently she said something to him about the P.I. who’s waiting for him. I had her give him a special message from me. I guess she made me sound like a real hard case.”
“Figures. Has she been coming on to you?” It drove me nuts, the way women fell for Pete.
“Well, maybe. But you know I’m all yours, sweetie.”
“Oh, goodie.” I was being sarcastic, but Pete loved it. There’s nothing he liked more than to tease and be teased. “And what kind of message did you have her give him?”
“I’ll tell you about it later. I see her coming, so they must be done with his exam. Time to see if I’m a good actor. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Pete – ” I was too late. He’d already hung up. I wondered what he could have had the nurse say to the guy to make him worry more about Pete than the cops. And I’d wanted to tell him about the messages from Jack Gless.
I should have known better, but I watched Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho before going to bed. And what did I dream about that night? In the dream, I was the P.I. sneaking up the stairs in Norman’s mother’s house with the weird music playing, and then something filmy and ethereal came floating down the stairs toward me.
Chapter Forty-three
Fortunately, I woke up before finding out what the thing coming down the stairs was going to do to me. I didn’t actually want to know. I may have yelled or something, because Bubba was sitting by the side of the bed staring at me, and he appeared to be worried. I had no idea a dog’s face could be so expressive. It was an interesting revelation.
Glancing at the clock, I saw it was already seven-thirty. I’d meant to get up earlier.
; I took care of all the morning chores, including both my breakfast and Bubba’s, and knew it was time to get busy and take care of business.
However, it was Sunday and I needed a break. I spent the day catching up on my domestic duties, like cleaning the house and vacuuming up dog hair. I wouldn’t give Pete the satisfaction of seeing dog hair on everything when he came home.
The first thing I did the Monday morning was phone the window guy. “I won’t be able to come out for a couple of days,” he said. “Things are pretty busy right now.”
“That should work out okay. I’ve temporarily nailed a piece of plywood over the opening.” We set up an appointment, and he said he’d come earlier if he could.
Next I returned some of the calls from messages on my answering machine at work. I’d written the numbers down while Bubba and I were there and brought them home with me. I assured everyone that nothing was wrong, explaining that Pete and I had been out of the office working on cases. Fortunately, all of our clients were understanding, and no one had anything pressing that needed to be dealt with immediately.
I climbed the steps to the attic with some trepidation, due to my recent Psycho dream, and picked up the hammer and nails I’d left up there. I didn’t hear any spooky music and nothing floated down toward me. Silly, but I couldn’t shake the strange feeling the dream had left behind.
My makeshift tool basket was still sitting on the sink, so I moved everything onto the kitchen table and began sorting through things as I moved tools, nails and screws into the new toolbox.
The doorbell rang, and I stopped what I was doing to see who was at the door.
“Stan.” I greeted him with a smile, happy to see my friend. “How was the trip to Tahoe?” I moved out of the doorway so he could enter the house.
Grinning, he followed me back to the kitchen. “I lost a dollar or two, but that was okay. I started out playing the nickel slot machines, but I’ve always wanted to try blackjack so I switched games. My goodness, but that was fun!”
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. And you and Pete had some excitement. Tell me about it.”