Mark bent forward and placed his arms on the window frame. “Looks like the police have left. You going to talk to me now?”
Paw pushed his nose through the window from behind my seat. He whined. For some reason, he liked Mark.
I sighed. Mark was persistent which made him a good reporter I suppose. “Yeah. Let me park and we'll talk.”
He stood up, and I drove forward and parked in a space at the back of the lot. I unbuckled my belt, got out, and opened Paw's door.
My Saint Bernard jumped down, shook himself with vigor, and woofed at Mark, who ruffled Paw's fur.
“There's my favorite detective dog.”
“Woof!” Paw slurped his face.
“Ha! Ha!” Mark wiped the drool from his face with the back of his sleeve. “Sure glad someone appreciates me.” He raised an eyebrow at me.
“You,” I said, “are as big a ham as he is.” I pointed to Paw who waved his tail in a slow happy arc.
“Yes, I am.” Mark flipped open his notebook. “And you are as hard to question as your boyfriend.”
I held up my hand, palm facing out. “Okay. Ask your questions.”
“Aren't you going to invite me inside?” Mark grinned wickedly.
I shook my head. “Fine. We'll go inside.”
I turned and strode to the back of the building to the kitchen door. Paw trotted ahead, leading the way.
Mark followed right behind me.
I opened the door and gestured them inside. Paw went first and padded to the dogs’ water dish, drinking deeply.
Mark nodded to Paw. “Isn't it against health department rules to have a pet in the kitchen?”
“This is the Innsman's personal kitchen. The commercial kitchen, where they prepare the guests' meals, is across the hall. No pets are allowed in there.”
Mark sat at the table in the center of the room. He tapped his notebook on the tabletop.
I sat across from him, and Paw joined me, wetting my pants-leg when he propped his chin on me.
Mark leaned back and crossed his legs out in front of him. “Let's start with who died.”
“Don't you already know that?”
He stared at me in silence then said, “I do, but I want to hear your version of events.”
I set my hand on Paw's broad head. “Thomas Cafferty was the first person killed. Madeline Wells died last night.”
“How?”
“Cafferty fell down the basement stairs.”
“Push?”
“Maybe.”
Mark looked up from his notebook. “Maybe? I talked to Hal.”
I crossed my arms, disturbing Paw who sensed my agitation. “Why ask me if you already know? It's not like you've asked what I saw or did?”
Mark threw down his pen. “Fine. I know Cafferty died from either a blow to the head or the fall down the stairs. Maybe both. What I don't know is why? Or if it is connected to Ms. Wells’ death?” He threw his hands up in the air. “I don't even know how she died.”
“So?”
“So?” Mark said. “So? How am I to cover crime in this town if no one will talk to me? I've done the background research on the guests. They all had motive except the Wells woman. Why are they alive and she's not?”
Paw grumbled as I sat up and asked, “Background research? Do you mean what the guests confessed to the other night?”
“No. I do not.” A crafty look glinted in his eyes. “I learned quite a bit about your fellow guests. I'll share what I know with you if you answer my questions.”
I bit my lip, considering my options.
Bruce and Uncle Harry wouldn't want me to share information with Mark. “What kind of information?”
Mark shook his head. “Uh-uh. I won't share unless you do.”
I tapped my fingers on the table as I waited to answer. Perhaps silence would force him to divulge something. We stared at each other, each waiting for the other to break first. Paw sighed and settled against my leg.
Mark threw up his hand in frustration. “All I'll tell you is that there's more to your guests’ pasts with Cafferty than they revealed the other night.”
I mentally congratulated myself on forcing his hand.
He pointed a finger at me. “Your turn.”
“All right. Madeline Wells was smothered to death with a bed pillow.”
Mark scribbled in his notebook. “In her bed?”
“Yes.”
“Who found her?”
“Karen Taylor. Her roommate.”
“What time did it happen?”
I shook my head. “Your turn. What did you learn?”
Mark twirled his pen in through his fingers. “Madeline Wells had no connection to Cafferty except for knowing Karen Taylor.”
“Had she ever met Cafferty before coming to the B&B?”
“Not that I could determine.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but Mark held up a hand. “What time did Madeline die?”
“My guess is sometime between midnight and three in the morning.”
“Don't you know for certain?”
“No. I do not.” I scowled at him. “Ask Hal for his time frame. He's the coroner.”
Mark scratched his cheek with his pen. “I figured he'd tell you.”
“Well, he didn't. Now, what else did you learn?”
“Karen Taylor had an affair with Cafferty.”
I brushed this aside with a wave of my hand. “Already know that.”
Mark's eyes widened. “How?”
“She told us.”
Mark grunted. “Fine, but did you know that Donna Dayton had an affair with him too?”
My mouth dropped open.
Mark grinned in triumph.
I snapped my mouth shut. “When did they have an affair?”
Paw whined and glanced at the kitchen door. I rubbed his back and he settled down.
“My sources say it was shortly before Cafferty lent her husband the money for his construction company.”
“How long did the affair last?”
“Not long. After James Dayton refused to give Cafferty kickback payments, Donna dropped Cafferty.”
“Is that why he set her up to be fired for theft?”
Mark tapped his pen against his notes. “I don't know, but one of my sources claims she wasn't set up.”
“Are you saying she embezzled money from the bank?”
“Maybe.”
I sat silently for a moment, trying to fit pieces of the puzzle into order.
Mark interrupted my thoughts with a question. “Where was everyone when Madeline was found?”
“I don't know. Patricia and I were in the kitchen when Bruce and Karen came inside.”
“Came inside? What time was this?”
“Around three in the morning.”
Mark raised an eyebrow. “Why was everyone awake that early in the morning?”
“I don't know why Karen was up. Bruce was patrolling the B&B to protect us from the killer striking again.”
Mark grumbled. “Figures.”
“What was that?”
Mark waved away my question. “Why were you in the kitchen?”
“I woke up when I heard a sound. I didn't see anyone, but I heard footsteps downstairs, so I went to check it out. I followed the sounds to the kitchen and found Patricia. She said she couldn't sleep and got up to have some tea.”
“Where were the others?”
I shook my head. “What else did you learn?”
“Answer my question and I'll answer yours.”
I studied him. Mark ignored me, scribbling in his notebook. My best guess was that he only had one more piece of information to tell me. “Shelbee and Jac were sleeping in our room when I left. Patricia told me William was still in their room. I don't know where Donna, James, and Jessica were.”
“When did they go to bed?”
I sat back and crossed my arms. Paw grumbled as my movement shifted my thigh under his jaw. “It's your turn.”
Mark crossed his arms and stared at me. He waited, hoping I'd start talking, no doubt. I stayed silent.
“Patricia murdered her first husband.”
Once again, my mouth dropped open. “What?”
Mark laughed so hard he doubled over. “Got you!”
I closed my mouth and glared at him. “That's not funny!”
Mark drew in a deep breath. “You should have seen your face.” He coughed. “Seriously, I know nothing about Patricia's first marriage. As far as I can tell she had a happy one, unlike me.”
“You were married?”
Mark sat up. “That's none of your business.”
I nodded. “Okay. Did you learn anything else about the guests?”
“One thing. Cafferty was going to propose to Jessica according to my sources. This would be her third marriage. Both of her previous husbands died suddenly.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes. Her first husband died in his sleep. He was a young man. The autopsy ruled his death a heart attack.”
“Could Jessica have poisoned him?”
“If she did, it didn't show in the autopsy.”
“How long were they married?”
“A year.”
I shivered. “A short marriage.”
Mark nodded. “So was the second one. Her second husband died in a car accident a year and a half into the marriage. His brakes failed.”
Ring!
I jerked at the sound of the phone on the kitchen wall.
“Woof!” Paw trotted over and sat staring up at the phone, head tilted to the side.
Ring! Ring!
I hurried over to the phone and lifted the receiver. “Hello?”
Bruce's voice sounded relieved. “Glad it's you. Harry arrested Jessica.”
“Why?”
Mark joined me to eavesdrop on the conversation. “What did he say?”
“Who's that?” Bruce asked with a hint of suspicion.
“Mark Carter.”
Bruce grunted.
Mark nudged me. “What did he tell you?”
Bruce heard Mark's question. “The Chief arrested Jessica. She confessed to planting that pen in Donna's purse to throw suspicion on the Daytons.”
“What pen,” Mark asked as I said, “Why arrest her?”
Bruce ignored Mark's question. “James Dayton wanted to press charges against Jessica. She, in turn, is refusing to drop charges against him.”
Mark waved his hands in the air, trying to get my attention.
Paw stared at Mark with a curious expression.
“Hold on a minute,” I told Bruce. I turned to Mark. “Paw found a pen in Donna Dayton's purse that was engraved with Cafferty's name. Jessica swears its Cafferty's and that he lost it. And James threatened Jessica with a chair leg. That was before the pen incident.”
Mark gaped at me. “And you didn't mention this to me?”
“You don't tell me everything,” I said.
Bruce cleared his throat. “Harry's holding them both. He's waiting to find evidence to arrest Jessica for Cafferty's murder.”
I glanced at Mark. “Harry needs to talk with Mark. He discovered that Jessica’d been married twice. Both men died suddenly.”
Bruce whistled. “Send him down to the station.”
I raised a brow at Mark who was eavesdropping on the call.
“Tell your boyfriend that I'm heading there now.” He strode across the kitchen and opened the door.
“Mark's leaving. He'll be there shortly.”
“Good. Could you find Donna and ask her to come to the station too. Harry wants to ask her some questions about Jessica.”
“I'll find her.”
Bruce murmured endearments and hung up.
The outside door rattled, and Lillian entered with Saber in her arms.
Paw ran over to them, tail wagging. “Woof! Woof!”
“Mrrow! Hiss!”
“Get away, you, galoot!”
I rushed over, grabbed Paw's collar, and tugged him back. He resisted, eager to sniff Saber.
I tightened my grip on Paw's leash. “Let him alone, Paw.”
Paw whined and jerked, attempting to free himself.
“Meow!”
Lillian, Saber, Paw, and I turned at the sound. Rascal stood in the kitchen doorway, regarding us with a quizzical expression.
Saber and Paw stopped fussing and stared in silence at the new arrival.
“Where did he come from?” Lillian wondered.
“Didn't you leave him in the kitchen when you left?”
“Sure, but Shelbee said she'd take him up to Patricia's apartment.”
“Maybe she forgot. But, where is she?”
Lillian shrugged. “Don't know. Jac was going to the store to replenish the supplies Paw ruined after she dropped me off with you.”
“Hmm. Well, I’ll check on her after I talk with Donna. Although come to think of it. I haven't seen her or the Innsmans. They should have been back by now.”
Lillian shrugged. “Go look for them and take the big galoot with you.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“Feed Saber.”
“Mreow.” Saber licked his nose with his pink tongue.
“Meow?” Rascal strolled over, tail held high, and rubbed against Lillian's leg.
Paw whined and gazed up at me, asking permission to join the cats.
“Come on boy. Let's find Donna and the others.”
With a gentle tug, I coaxed Paw from the kitchen, closing the door behind me. I stepped across the hall, pushed open the commercial kitchen's door, and peeked inside. No one was in sight, and no food smells wafted in the air.
“Where are Donna and Patricia?” I spoke to Paw. “They should be back by now.”
Paw whined and shifted restlessly on his feet.
“Let's check in front.” I led him into the foyer and crossed to the living room. Again, no one was in sight.
Paw turned and tugged me toward the stairs. I followed as he led the way up and stopped on the first landing. He stood with head cocked on the side, listening. He swung his head to the left and softly woofed, then took a few steps forward and glanced at me over his shoulder.
“Lead the way, boy.”
He led me to Donna's room and scratched at the door.
“Stop that,” I scolded him. “You'll ruin the Innsman's wood finish.”
He stopped and looked up with a wounded expression.
Ignoring his sad eyes, I knocked on the door.
Rustling sounded along with footsteps as someone approached, then the door was inched open. Donna peered around the door. “Yes?”
“Sorry to bother you, but Bruce called me. He asked me to tell you that they want you to go to the police station.”
Donna sucked in a breath, her eyes widening. “Why? Are they releasing James?”
“No. Could I come in a minute to explain?”
She paused then opened the door wider and stood back.
I stepped in, Paw behind me.
Donna turned her back and walked to the bed where a suitcase sat open, half-filled with rumpled clothes. “Why do they want me at the station?” Donna asked over her shoulder as she rummaged in the suitcase.
“The police have arrested Jessica for planting his pen in your purse. They want to ask you some questions about her.”
Donna's shoulders relaxed and she half-turned toward me. “I knew she was trying to pin Cafferty's murder on us. Did she murder him?”
“I don't know.” From the corner of my eyes, I saw Paw's body tense. What had upset him? His nose lifted, scenting the air.
“I bet she did.” Donna sat on the edge of the bed. “Maybe they'll release James now.”
“Maybe.”
Donna scrutinized me. “You don't believe they will.”
“No. James threatened Jessica with that chair leg. We all witnessed it. Even if she did murder Mr. Cafferty, James will be tried for his actions.”
Donna’s fa
ce hardened. “He's a fool sometimes.” She stood up and turned back to her packing.
Paw moved to stand in front of me. Something was wrong. He growled low in his throat.
Donna tensed at the sound and glanced at me over her shoulder. “Call your dog off.”
I studied her hard expression. “Paw is a good judge of character.”
She snorted and turned.
Pointing a pistol at my heart. “He's a pain in my butt.”
Chapter 22
I took a deep breath.
“Call him off, or I'll put a bullet in him.” She lowered the pistol to point at Paw.
I tugged very gently on his leash. “Paw.”
His gaze never left Donna's face.
I tugged harder. “It's okay, boy. Back off.”
Continuing to stare at Donna, he eased back to my side.
“You killed Cafferty.”
She smirked. “He fell down the stairs.”
“But with help.”
She shrugged. “Thomas was a fool. Greedy too. He found James in the basement, retrieving the wine bottle for me.”
I frowned. “Why did you want it?”
“The Chateau Haut Brion is remarkable. I've tasted it once before. Why should Innsman or Thomas have it?”
Paw shifted.
Donna tensed.
I stroked Paw's side to soothe him, afraid Donna would shoot him.
“What happened when Cafferty found James?”
Her gazed shifted back to me. “They argued. I was waiting in the dining room as a lookout. I saw Thomas go past me. He met James on the stairs as James was at the bottom of the steps, foot on the first step with the bottle in hand.
“Thomas stopped at the top and threatened to inform the Innsmans unless James handed over the bottle. He never heard me move up behind him. I hit him over the head with my pistol. He fell, and James jumped back.”
“He was dead.”
“Yes,” she said, no feeling to her voice. “Broke his neck.”
“How did the wine bottle end up in the mulch?”
Donna sighed. “We heard footsteps coming down the main stairs. James panicked. He wanted to leave the bottle, but I refused, so he rushed us up the stairs and out the back door. I hid my gun in a hidden compartment in our car while he hid the wine. Idiot. Who hides fine wine in a mulch pile?”
Her cold gaze bored into me. “Time to go.”
She motioned with the pistol. “Lock him in the closet.”
Bassets and Blackmail (A Dog Detective Series Novel Book 2) Page 18