by J.J. Chow
He didn’t deny it. Deep in his heart, he knew he’d be content taking care of Blueberry the rest of his life if it meant having Kristy near him.
He studied the litter box and sniffed the air. How many times was he supposed to change the thing anyway? Did he really want to store cat excrement any longer than necessary?
He put on some disposable gloves and removed the full liner. Carrying the offending material outside, he went to the front of the house and headed toward his trash bin.
He’d just dumped the mess when he heard the high pitch of a siren. An ambulance came barreling down the street. Soon, a fire engine, lights blaring and horn honking, zoomed by as well. Both vehicles turned down Magnolia Lane.
Winston jogged over to the cul-de-sac to check what was happening. He arrived to see a body on a gurney being wheeled over to the ambulance. He tried to ask the paramedics questions, and one of them mumbled, “Toppled off a ladder.”
Then they bustled away with grim looks on their faces. Glimpsing white hair and a man’s build on the stretcher, Winston guessed it was Bill.
He took stock of Bill’s house and noticed a ladder lying askew on the front lawn. Winston looked up at the roof, where a row of solar panels winked at him in the sunlight. Had Bill been cleaning them only a few minutes ago? Did the poor man fall? Winston shook his head at the tragedy.
He saw firemen trying to secure the area to keep people from entering. But nobody was near the house—except Diana who rushed out her front door at that exact moment, her hair in a messy ponytail and her eyes widening at the chaos before her.
“What happened?” she asked Winston.
“I think he fell—from high up.” Winston pointed to the ladder.
Shielding her eyes, she stared at the roofline and then down at the grass. She gasped. “That’s really far. Do you think he’s okay?”
“I don’t know.” He stared after the departing ambulance.
He heard a quiet sobbing from nearby and noticed a figure seated at a bistro table a few doors down. “Heather?” he called out.
He and Diana moved into the shadow of Heather’s porch, where she sat trembling on a chair. Heather’s hand gripped her cell phone. She whispered, “I called as soon as I could.”
“Did you see him fall?” Winston asked.
Tears sprang to Heather’s eyes. “He was already on the ground when I found him.”
Diana went over to Heather and stood beside her. She patted Heather’s shoulder. “How terrible.”
Heather wiped her tears away and sniffled.
Winston closed his eyes and tried to shake off the memory. He wouldn’t tell the ladies, but he was certain that Bill hadn’t moved a muscle when the stretcher had been put into the ambulance.
CHAPTER 16
SOMETHING ABOUT BILL’S demise must have shown on Winston’s face because Heather’s sobs started up again. “I should have called sooner.”
“You did the best you could,” Winston said, but her crying intensified. He looked over at Diana for support.
“Well, it was an accident,” Diana said. “Could have happened anytime. Nobody’s fault.”
“And you didn’t hear anything?” Winston asked Diana.
“Not a single sound. The double panes block out noise.” She pointed to the windows on her house.
Winston wondered if any of the other neighbors were around. He glanced at Ryan’s home. The banker was probably at work, but Winston thought he saw the flick of a curtain from an open upstairs window. And there was no breeze.
He also looked at Zack’s house. Winston noticed a flash of color move beyond the bamboo wall in the yard. Before he had a chance to investigate, though, a cop car pulled up.
The black-and-white’s door opened, and Gaffey stepped out. The same policeman who’d helped him with the Sweet Breeze case. But also the same guy who’d tried to steal his girl.
Winston walked over to the cop and shook the man’s hand, hard. “Been a long time.”
Gaffey sighed. “Why is it that you’re always around when seniors get into trouble?”
Winston shrugged. “Part of my job. To make sure everything’s on the up-and-up.”
Gaffey snorted and secured the area with yellow tape. After he finished, the cop asked, “How’s Kristy?”
“Fine. Actually, we’re going out tonight.”
Gaffey raised his eyebrows. “Really? That’s not what I heard at the Life Circles senior home. Said she’d be gone on vacation.” Winston had forgotten that the cop’s great-aunt lived there.
The man kept talking. “She went solo? Guess she needed some time away.”
Winston swallowed the lump in his throat. Maybe he should have gone with her. Cooed over the new baby, cemented the relationship between Kristy and himself.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Heather and Diana approaching.
Heather zeroed in on the cop, a searching look on her face. “Is Bill all right?”
“I don’t know”—Gaffey shooed them away—“nothing to see here, folks. Go back home.”
The ladies shrank back at his commanding voice and retreated, but Winston remained.
“Are you going to open a file?” he asked Officer Gaffey.
Gaffey walked around the yard, peering into spaces and ignoring Winston’s question.
Winston followed him. “Well?”
The cop swatted at Winston like he was a fly and pointed to the ladder. “Open-and-shut case. Pretty simple. Old man climbing up to the roof slips and falls.”
But the ladder lay sideways on the ground, almost like it’d been knocked over. Winston frowned. “He was healthy,” he said. “Volunteered at the Tech. Even traveled, going to a conference this past weekend.”
“You might think you’re a real detective, but maybe you’d make a better maid.” Gaffey gave a pointed look at Winston’s hands.
Oh crap—well, he hoped he didn’t actually have that on his gloves. He’d forgotten to dispose of them when he’d dumped the cat litter. Spotting a nearby trash can, he took the gloves off and tossed them in.
Gaffey smirked. “Like I was saying, accidents happen. And that’s what clearly occurred here.”
What a scrub. And not just because of his rude comments. The policeman wouldn’t even think about alternate scenarios.
Although Winston nodded, he didn’t agree with the cop. First, there was the position of the ladder. And, though he hadn’t noticed it at first, the grass seemed flattened in an odd patch. And not where the body would have fallen based on the angle of the ladder, but farther away.
Had someone else been nearby when Bill had fallen? He tried to bring up his suspicion to Officer Gaffey, but the policeman brushed him off. It seemed that Winston would have to take matters into his own hands.
CHAPTER 17
WINSTON RETURNED TO an empty house and sat fuming in the living room. The neighbors seemed like they’d all been home and might make good witnesses. He knew he needed to question them about Bill, but how?
At that moment, Marcy strolled in. She smelled like hairspray, and her nails gleamed with a bright-orange polish.
“You went to the salon? Do you know what you missed?” Winston shivered. “An ambulance came for Bill.”
Marcy thrust a flyer into his hand. “That explains what I found posted in the mail area.”
The paper urged for a neighborhood watch meeting to be held tomorrow night. Besides the regulars, though, who would be able to make it on such short notice?
“I bet it’s to elect a new captain.” Marcy lowered her eyes. “So sad about Bill.”
“A real shame.” But the meeting offered the perfect opportunity to discover what had really happened. It’d be his chance to talk to the others, to find out whether they’d seen anything suspicious when Bill had fallen from his ladder.
Blueberry came by and rubbed his body against Winston’s legs. In that moment, Winston felt a twinge of misery. He scooped up the cat and cuddled it, but Blueberry was a sorry subs
titute for his owner and soon jumped out of Winston’s arms. Awash with loneliness, Winston dialed Kristy’s number. She picked up on the first ring.
“I miss you,” he said before she could even speak.
“Oh, Winston,” Kristy said. “I wish you could be here. The baby came early. Listen to this—”
A gurgling came down the line. Was that the cooing of a baby? He thought that all infants did was cry and make dirty diapers. Perhaps they weren’t so bad after all?
Kristy came back on the phone. “He’s a cutie. I could hold him twenty-four seven.” Her voice had softened, and Winston could imagine her maternal tenderness whenever she held the baby.
“He seems sweet,” Winston said, “babbling and all.”
“I wish you could see his sweet smile.”
I wish I could see your smile, he thought, but didn’t say. “When are you coming back?”
“Next week,” she said. “Anything interesting going on?”
He didn’t want to alarm her about Bill’s tragedy, but he had to say something. “Bill fell, and I’m investigating it.”
“Oh no. Will he be okay?”
“I’m not sure.” He couldn’t tell her that he’d seen a very still body being pulled away from the house.
“Hope he recovers soon.” She paused and then fumbled for words. “Did you say you’re investigating it?”
“Yes, it’s a little odd. Wish I could get your take on things.” Kristy was invaluable when he got stumped. She helped him see things from a new perspective.
“What about Marcy? She could help you.”
His sister? That’s why they usually lived an ocean apart. Distance improved their relationship. “Well . . .”
“Is she too busy?”
Winston looked over at his sister’s coiffed hair and polished nails. “Not exactly.”
“More importantly, is she happy?”
Winston saw Marcy reach for the remote and start flipping through the channels, a bored expression on her face. “Nope,” he said.
“Lean on each other then,” Kristy said.
The baby started making a fuss in the background, and Kristy had to hang up. But before she did, Kristy extracted a promise from Winston that he’d include his sister in the new investigation.
Thinking about this agreement, Winston strode over to his sister. “Turn off the TV and listen to me.”
Marcy gave him a blank look.
“We’re going to that meeting,” he said.
“Not those people again . . .”
“Are you still worried about your American Idol tryout?”
She turned up the volume on the television.
“Marcy, it’s important.” He grabbed the remote and shut off the TV. “There may have been a murder.”
She shuddered. “Okay, I promise to go with you tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 18
AT THE EMERGENCY MEETING, chairs were set up in a circle on Bill’s yellowing lawn. The neighbors sat silent, avoiding eye contact. As Winston and Marcy took their seats, he thought the residents all looked worse for the wear.
Heather, although not currently crying, had her hands folded on her lap, and her face was drained of color. Diana had pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail, and her face seemed triple washed, with spots of pink where she’d scrubbed too hard. Zack hunched over in his chair, a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, his face hidden in its shadow. Even Ryan, with his neatly manicured nails, appeared stricken. Though he had a smile pasted on, Ryan’s eyes seemed glazed and unseeing.
Every one of them looked around, waiting for someone to start. Then they all talked at once:
“Who called for this meeting?”
“Didn’t you see the flyer?”
“I didn’t post it up.”
Finally, Heather clapped her hands and spoke. “Seems like somebody has to lead, so I’ll get us started.”
Zack straightened up in his seat. “Who said you were in charge?”
“I’m an event coordinator,” Heather said. “I organize. That’s what I do.”
“Not anymore.” Ryan’s fake smile disappeared. “You got laid off, remember?”
Heather scowled at him, while Diana pulled at her ponytail a few times before talking. “I’m the most qualified for block captain. After all, I’m already president of the local homeschooling club.”
“Please,” Heather said. “You don’t get to elect yourself. In the bylaws, it states that we have to vote the person in.”
As they glared at one another, a car zoomed down the cul-de-sac and parked. Winston spotted a stranger exit the black sports car and head towards them with a leather briefcase. With a balding head and a slight paunch, the man didn’t seem intimidating until he said, “I’m Bill’s estate lawyer.”
What now, Winston thought, as he eyed the attorney in his dark charcoal suit.
“I was informed about Bill’s death yesterday afternoon.”
Winston shuddered. He hadn’t wanted to be right. From around Winston, a mix of gasps and sobs filled the air.
The lawyer cleared his throat. “Settle down, so we can get to business.” He waited for complete quiet before speaking again. “Bill wanted to give half of his assets to support the Tech.”
Zack grumbled. “Of course, he did. What about all the animals in need?”
The lawyer continued as though he hadn’t been interrupted. “And as he already mentioned to you, the other half of Bill’s life savings he left to the new block captain, which is why I set up this meeting.”
Surprised looks arose on their faces. Winston heard a mass of excited whispers and could only pick up snippets of words:
“Really?”
“Can’t believe it.”
“Thought he was joking.”
The lawyer held his hands up. “I’ll wait here while you decide. Then I’ll give the proper paperwork to the heir.”
“Let’s vote on it,” Ryan said. “Who thinks I should lead?” Ryan raised his own hand.
In fact, everyone nominated and voted for themselves.
And why not? Bill must have accumulated a lifetime of savings. An epic inheritance. Besides, who wouldn’t want free money? Every one of them could use the extra cash: Heather to kick-start her business, Diana to cover college expenses for her kid, Ryan to move up the social ladder, and Zack to donate to animal protection or other eco needs.
The attendees’ voices were rising, and Winston looked to Marcy for help.
Her face turned stern. “We’re all adults here. We’ll do a secret ballot, fair and square.”
“Great suggestion.” The lawyer pulled a legal notepad and pen out of his briefcase. “Write down the name of your nominee, but you can’t vote for yourself. Don’t think about the money. Pick the person who’ll do the best job.” He tore the paper into small scraps and passed them out to Bill’s neighbors.
Then the lawyer turned to Marcy and Winston, “You two get a say as well. Who represents your household?”
“Well, I own the property,” Marcy said.
Winston hid a frown. Did she have to tell a stranger that? “I live there,” he mumbled.
A small smile spread on Marcy’s lips. “As do I . . . now.”
“Fine, you win,” Winston said.
“I’m joking, baby brother.” Marcy pinched his cheek before turning to the lawyer. “Winston will cast the vote.”
The lawyer, who’d been shaking his head at their conversation, passed out the last scrap of paper.
After Winston scribbled down his candidate, the lawyer collected all the responses. People tapped their feet and wiggled in their chairs while waiting. The lawyer read each scrap at least three times before tallying the numbers.
Then he stood before them and announced, “The new block captain is . . . Heather.” He extended a hand for her to shake and congratulated her.
With the meeting adjourned, Winston tried speaking with people as they left, but everyone brushed him off. No one wanted to talk.
They all trudged back home. Except for Heather, who stayed with the lawyer. In fact, they were still filling out paperwork as Winston and Marcy left Magnolia Lane.
CHAPTER 19
WHILE WALKING HOME, Winston complained to his sister. “None of them would talk to me.”
“Go figure,” Marcy said. “They were all crabby they didn’t get the inheritance.”
“Except for Heather.”
“She’ll be one happy clam tomorrow.”
“Yes, when everything’s signed, and it all sinks in—that’s when we’ll strike.”
“You want me to come with?” Marcy asked.
“For sure.” He didn’t mind his sister tagging along. After all, she’d diffused the voting situation and thought of a great solution.
“Thanks, Winston.”
Back at the house, Marcy excused herself, telling him she had to prepare a good sleuthing outfit.
THE NEXT DAY, MARCY was dressed in a trench coat and jeans.
“You want to wear that?” Winston asked. “It’s not even raining.”
“I need to look the part.”
He noticed she’d brushed her hair so that it shone, and had put on blush. Maybe detective work would lift up her spirits and bring back the old Marcy.
They marched over to Heather’s house full of optimism. The woman opened the door and welcomed them in with big hugs. “It’s good to see you two together, the happy couple.”
Winston looked over at Marcy and frowned. “We’re just brother and sister.”
Marcy nodded, adding, “Only brother and sister.”
“No matter, a simple misunderstanding.” Heather led the way to her gleaming dining table under the huge chandelier.
Once Winston and Marcy had sat down, she placed a platter of brownies in front of them. “Second batch,” she said. “I bake too much when I’m excited.”
“As well you should,” Marcy said. “With the new inheritance you gained.” She rubbed her thumb against her index finger, indicating oodles of cash.