While She Slumbered: The Murder Blog Mysteries #5

by Pamela Frost Dennis

  “Slow down, Daisy. This isn’t a race.” She took the hint and started sniffing the dandelions popping through the sidewalk cracks, while I inspected Josh’s two-story redwood shingled Craftsman. Nothing looked amiss. After texting a photo to him, we crossed the street and headed back down Sycamore Lane. We passed by Randy and Earl’s and all was quiet. I saw Nina, dressed in jeans, a blue striped blouse, and a straw hat, standing in her front yard next to a large woman wearing a sleeveless orange muumuu. Nina beckoned me over.

  I opened the gate into her charming picket-fenced English garden. A small dog yipped at us from behind the front screen door.

  Nina took my hand. “Katy, I’d like you to meet my niece, Donna Baxter Morgan.”

  The older woman looked nothing like the glamorous young woman on her Amazon author’s page. I hoped the shock didn’t show on my face as I shook her rough, beefy hand. I’m 5’9”, and it’s not often I meet women taller than me. She had to be pushing six feet.

  “I’m Katy McKenna. It’s a pleasure to… Daisy, stop pulling! Sit! Sorry about that, Donna. I live two doors that way.” I pointed down the block. “The yellow house.”

  She patted Daisy’s head. “It’s nice to meet you, Katy. Actually, I dropped the Morgan and am using my maiden name now. Baxter.”

  Nina looked surprised. “You didn’t tell me you changed your name.”

  “I did it recently, Auntie.”

  “Well, good for you.”

  The yapping dog in the house was pawing furiously on the wood framed screen door, making it rattle on its hinges.

  “Did you get a dog, Nina?” I asked.

  “No, that’s Donna’s dog, Baby Girl.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Nina smiled. “The dog’s name is Baby Girl.”

  “Oh. Got ya. Cute. How’s your cat, Mr. Snickers, doing with Baby Girl?”

  She huffed a sigh. “At the moment, he’s hiding in my closet.”

  Donna dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “Your cat will adjust. Before you know it, they’ll be best buddies.” She moved to the brick porch steps and sat with a grunt. “My feet and ankles are swollen, probably from the long flight.” I glanced at her puffy feet jammed into ratty-looking, open-toe sheepskin slippers. “Can’t get my shoes on.”

  “Nina told me you write murder mysteries. In fact, I have the first one on my tablet. The Kupcake Kaper. I’m really looking forward to reading it. It has a lot a great reviews.” I failed to mention that I’d already read the first chapter a couple days ago and had not read any further. “How exciting it must be to be a writer.”

  Her florid face lit up with a broad smile. “Thank you. Although I don’t know if exciting is the right word to describe the life of a writer. More like exhausted hermit. That reminds me. Aunt Nina, is it okay if I use your desk? I need to work on my latest book—The Kannoli Kaper.” She mopped her drippy brow on her hairy forearm. “Is it always so hot here?”

  It wasn’t hot—low eighties at the most. Maybe that’s hot for a Ketchikan resident.

  “Let’s get out of the sun.” Nina led the way up the steps to the white wicker chairs on the covered porch.

  Donna opened the screen door and scooped up her wiggly, long-haired black dog. “Baby Girl. Calm down!”

  “She’s so cute,” I said. “What is she?”

  “A malti-poo mutt.” Donna sat and cuddled her bouncy dog.

  Daisy strained on her leash towards the dog.

  “My girl wants to meet her. Is that okay?” I said.

  She looked reluctant. “Baby Girl isn’t used to dogs. But I suppose she needs to learn.”

  While the pooches indulged in a get-to-know-you-sniff-a-thon, Donna said, “I wonder why I’m so hot? I can’t even blame menopause because I had a hysterectomy over twenty years ago while in my forties.”

  “You’re probably still worn out from the plane ride,” said Nina. “Do you want to lie down for a while?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  I was hungry for lunch and ready to leave, but that might have seemed rude. I tugged Daisy’s leash. “That’s enough sniffing. Come and lie down.” Snapping my fingers, I pointed at the painted wood floor in front of my chair. “Are you married, Donna?” As soon as I said that, I felt like a dope, remembering Nina telling me she was widowed.

  She shook her head. “No. My husband passed several years ago. Car accident.”

  “I’m sorry.” Those words always sound so empty, but what else could one say?

  “Don’t be. Gary was a bastard. For starters, I wanted kids, and that turd got a vasectomy without telling me.”

  “That’s awful!”

  “Tell me about it. I had no idea why I wasn’t getting pregnant. When I found out, I felt so…so betrayed. I wanted to kill him. I should’ve divorced him right then and there.”

  As if on cue, a very pregnant mother strolled by on the sidewalk, escorted by a cute towheaded toddler on a squeaky red tricycle. With one hand cradling her swollen belly, the mom waved at us.

  “Why didn’t you?” I asked.

  She shifted in her chair, gazing after the passing mom and child. “We had a long history that stupid me wasn’t ready to give up on. We’d been high school sweethearts—voted cutest couple in our senior year.” Donna snickered, fluffing her straggly bleached-out hair. “Look at me now. Hard to believe I was ever half of the cutest couple, huh?”

  “I can see it.” No, I can’t.

  “We had a thriving bakery. Splitting up would’ve meant selling the business. I didn’t have much love left for Gary, but I did love the bakery, so I tried to make the best of a bad situation. However, over time, things went from bad to worse.”

  Nina shook her head with a grimace. “You can sure say that again. The man should have been shot. I remember how upset my sister was.”

  A blue jay screeched in the towering old sycamore tree that shaded the yard.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but duty calls.” Nina opened a plastic container that was under her chair, and placed a row of peanuts on the porch rail. “Jasper! Come get your peanuts!”

  With a loud squawk the bird swooped down and landed on the rail. After a cautious glance at us, he carefully studied his choices, then grabbed one of the peanuts and flew off.

  “He hides them around the yard,” said Nina. “I’ll miss that rascal when I move. I’m sorry I interrupted your story, Donna.”

  “No worries.” She snuggled her dog. “Thank goodness I have you, Baby Girl.” Her phone rang in her muumuu pocket. She glanced at the screen. “I’ve got to take this. I’ll keep it short.”

  Donna walked to the far end of the porch before answering the phone. I don’t know why she did that, since we could clearly hear her.

  “Hi, honey,” she said.

  Nina glanced at me with a quizzical look and whispered, “Honey?”

  Donna went on. “I’m in the middle of a conversation with my aunt and a neighbor. We’re talking about Gary.” She paused. “I miss you, too. I’ll call you later, okay? Bye-bye.”

  Donna returned to her seat and settled Baby Girl in her lap. “Sorry about that.”

  “Who was it?” asked Nina.

  “My best friend, Michelle. We’ve been besties forever. She was never a fan of Gary.”

  “My best friend couldn’t stand my ex, either,” I said.

  “You know what they say,” said Nina. “Love comes and goes but true friendship lasts forever.”

  “I like that,” said Donna. “So where was I in my Gary saga? Oh, yeah. When I was in my forties, I started having pelvic pain, which I mistook for bad cramps. I figured I was going into my peri-menopausal years, so I didn’t worry about it.”

  “My mother is going through that now,” I said. “Definitely not something I’m looking forward to.”

  She shook her head. “Oh, how I wish it had been peri-menopause.”

  My stomach was growling, but I had to hear the end of her story. “What was it?”

  “Pelvic in
flammatory disease. My darling husband had given me chlamydia. If I’d gone to the doctor sooner, it probably could have been treated with antibiotics. But it had spread, and I had to have a hysterectomy.”

  Given everything this guy had done, I was surprised they had maintained a physical relationship. I’ve heard of people having horrible marriages but staying together because the sex was good. Wouldn’t be my choice, though.

  Donna continued. “That’s when I finally went to see a lawyer. He assured me that I would get everything: the bakery and the house.”

  “The story gets even worse, Katy,” said Nina.

  “How is that possible?”

  Donna snorted and got another kiss from her dog. “After I filed for divorce, he moved in with his girlfriend.”

  “Sounds familiar,” I said. “My ex moved in with his girlfriend after I nursed him through cancer. But you win for worst betrayal.”

  “Lucky me. Anyway, one day I get a call from my lawyer, and he says he has something to tell me, but I better sit down first.” Arching a brow, she took a dramatic pause, and I leaned forward in my seat. “Turns out he’d gambled all our retirement savings away and incurred a mountain of credit card debt. Of course, it wasn’t long before the debt collectors went after me because we were still legally married.”

  Her outrageous story was like something out of the soap opera my mom and Ruby watched for decades. All My Family.

  Jasper returned to the railing. Before selecting another peanut, he monopolized the conversation for a moment, squawking and ruffling his feathers, and then off he flew with his stash.

  Nina removed her hat and ran her fingers through her flattened hair. “Tell her about the girlfriend.”

  “You’ll love this. Tami—that was her name—came a-knockin’ on my door one day a few weeks after Gary died.”

  “Wait, a sec. Were you still married when he died?”

  “Yes. The divorce wasn’t final yet. Anyway, this Tami bitch says she wants a memento of her darling Gare-Bear. Well, I gave Tami a memento, all right.” She eyed me, waiting for me to say…

  “What did you give her?”

  Donna beamed triumphantly. “His ashes in an old Vlasic pickle jar. You should’ve seen her face. As I handed it to her, I said, ‘I hope you and Gare-Bear will be very happy together.’”

  I cracked up. “I wish I could’ve seen her face.”

  While listening to Donna’s astonishing tale, I kept trying to place where I’d seen her before. She looked familiar, but I knew we had never met.

  She patted her pup’s back. “Sorry about all that. It’s been quite a while since I’ve talked about it.”

  “No problem,” I said. “It makes my own bitter saga seem not quite so awful.”

  “There is a silver lining to the story,” she said smiling.

  “What could there possibly be?” I asked.

  “I collected his life insurance—”

  “Which certainly helped,” said Nina.

  Donna nodded. “Yes it did. We both had policies. Never in a million years did I think I’d collect that.”

  “You probably wouldn’t have, if the divorce had been final,” said Nina. “He undoubtedly would have made his girlfriend the beneficiary. Timing is everything, isn’t it? You earned that money!”

  “I suppose I did.” Donna stroked Baby Girl’s back, looking a hundred miles away for a moment. “Anyway, my heart was no longer in the bakery at that point, so I sold it for a healthy profit and paid off all of Gary’s debts. I had plenty of money in the bank, and was ready for a new chapter in my life. I’d always enjoyed writing in high school and my best friend suggested I turn my Gary saga into a murder mystery. Of course, Gary wasn’t murdered, but it was sure fun fantasizing about it. And even more fun making money from that fantasy.”

  “Now, I can’t wait to read it,” I lied. “How long are you staying? I’d love to have you both over for lunch, but the rest of this week I’m totally slammed.” I expected a turn-down, since Nina had said the visit was only for a few days.

  “Not really sure yet. I hope to do a few excursions if my aunt is up to it.”

  That doesn’t sound like a few days. “Such as?”

  “Go to Santa Barbara. Disneyland.” She poked Nina’s arm. “You up for that, Auntie?”

  This evening I marched around the living room, racking up steps on the FitTrim, and watching a recorded show on The Food Channel. It went to commercial and when I fast-forwarded through the ads, a woman caught my eye. Curious, I rewound. It was a commercial for a show called Ranch House Grub, and the chef-host of the show reminded me of Paula Deen. I realized that’s who Donna looks like. Paula Deen—if Paula didn’t wear makeup, had ruddy skin, bristly eyebrows, weighed a lot more, and her hair was a straggly bleached out white-blonde bob with half-inch roots.

  At bedtime, I still had 772 steps to hit my goal. So close and yet so far.

  Chapter Five

  Thursday • June 4

  Posted by Katy McKenna

  Since Nina’s niece will be hanging around for a while, I felt obligated to follow through on the invitation that brilliant me made yesterday.

  I found my friend sitting on the porch cradling Mr. Snickers in her lap. Usually, Nina is very pulled together. Makeup, stylish clothes. But today, she wore a baggy T-shirt, faded black pants, no makeup (I had no idea her eyebrows and lashes were white), and looked gloomy.

  “Hey, Nina,” I called as I passed through the gate. I climbed the porch steps and sat next to her, stroking the leashed ginger tabby’s soft fur. “You don’t look very chipper.”

  “I’m a little pooped, that’s all.”

  “How’s the visit going?”

  She blew out an exasperated sigh. “To quote Ben Franklin—guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days.”

  “It’s only been two.”

  “Feels more like two months.”

  At the next house on the block, a yard service crew was blowing leaves into the street. They moved to the edge of Nina’s property, and I had to yell to be heard over the machine. “What’s she doing now?”

  Nina shouted back, “She’s out running errands, then getting a pedicure.”

  That poor pedicurist, I thought, remembering Donna’s gnarly toes peeking out from her slippers.

  “I had no idea she was bringing her dog. This morning I found Snickers cornered in the bathtub, shaking like a leaf. Donna thought it was funny. Funny!” She inhaled deeply and blew it out. “I tell you, this visit can’t end soon enough for me.”

  The yard dudes finished and were stowing their equipment into their truck. I could still smell the gas fumes from the blowers, and they hadn’t bothered to clean up the leaves they’d blown into the street.

  “Donna should have asked before she brought her dog,” I said.

  “Yes, she sure should’ve. She says she goes nowhere without her comfort dog. Well, my comfort cat shouldn’t be terrified in his own home.”

  “Where’s the dog now?” I asked. “Getting a pedicure, too?”

  “Taking a nap.” Nina patted her cat. “She was worn out from chasing Snickers all morning.”

  “Not to change the subject—”

  “Please do.” Her gaze drifted across the street. “Will wonders never cease? There’s Earl and Randy working in the yard. Such nice boys.” She chuckled softly, looking more like the Nina I know. “What a difference a day makes, huh?”

  “I’ll say. Anyway, I came over to invite you two for brunch on Sunday.”

  “That sounds delightful, but I’ll have to check with Donna. What time?”

  “Does eleven or eleven-thirty work for you?”

  “Better make it eleven. She’s a late sleeper.”

  Nina’s old, faded green Subaru Outback pulled into the driveway. Donna got out and lifted the back hatch.

  I hollered, “Need some help?”

  She waved. “No, I’m good.”

  I went to the car anyway. Donna was wrestling wi
th a long, flat box, and the box was winning.

  “Looks like it’s stuck,” I said. “I’ll open the backseat door and see what it’s caught on.” I climbed in and heaved the box towards her. I got out and went to the back of the car. “You got a dog door?”

  “It was on sale at Home Depot.” She patted the cardboard box. “This is one of those dog doors that sit inside a sliding glass door. I have one at my house and love it. It’ll make life so much easier if Baby can run in and out whenever she wants.”

  I glanced at Nina on the porch. “She’s okay with that? I ask because I know her cat isn’t allowed loose outside.”

  “He’s so timid; I doubt he’ll ever even try to go through the flap. Personally, I think it’s awful to keep a cat cooped up in the house like a prisoner.”

  I have a dog door so I can leave without worrying about Daisy needing to go outside and do her business. My cat, Tabitha, uses it too. I worry about her safety, but I’ve never seen her leave the back yard. The bottom line is: it’s my house and my choice to have the dog door.

  Trailing her up the steps, I held one end of the heavy, cumbersome package, feeling like a traitor. “Nina. Look what Donna bought.”

  Her face froze when she saw the label, and she clutched Mr. Snickers tighter.

  Donna said, “Baby Girl tends to have accidents in the house if she can’t get out, so this will really help.”

  I furrowed my brow at Nina and cocked my head, trying to convey—“You need to say something.”

  She grimly shook her head, looking away.

  We toted the box to the slider in the living room, and laid it on the floor. Her little furball raced into the room, all wiggly and delirious to see her mommy.

  “Der’s my sweet, widdle baby-waby. Mommy missed ooo.” The dog jumped into her arms and Donna nuzzled her. “Give Momma some sugar.”

  “I’d offer to help install the dog door, but I have to go.” I fled the room without giving her a chance to answer. Then I knelt in front of Nina on the porch and set my hands on her knees. “You need to say something. I mean, who does something like this?”

  “Apparently, my niece does.” She patted my head. “You’re a good girl, Katy. If I had a daughter, I’d want her to be just like you.”