While She Slumbered: The Murder Blog Mysteries #5

by Pamela Frost Dennis

  Late afternoon

  I needed about a billion more steps to reach my daily goal, so I clipped on Daisy’s harness, and we headed out the door. Across the street, Randy was stoking the rusty oil drum BBQ that has been in the yard since the day they moved in. A boombox sat in the recently whacked weeds, softly playing new-age yoga music. He waved, and then with palms pressed together at heart center, he bowed. I returned the wave, thinking, Did he just namasté me?

  Cars were lining up on both sides of Sycamore Lane, with all occupants streaming into Josh’s house. I saw Randy do his “namasté thing” to anyone who glanced his way. One of them yelled, “That’s cool. Whatever, yoga dude.”

  I patted Daisy’s head. “Looks like there’s gonna be a party, and we weren’t invited.”

  We walked for several blocks, then returned home to find the next door festivities had spilled out into Josh’s back yard. Hip-hop and rap tunes were cranked up to ear-splitting, with everyone shouting to be heard over the music. Namasté Randy had adjusted his yoga music volume in retaliation. Let me tell you, it was an annoying mashup.

  I had a couple of options.

  One: call the cops and probably get told to do the neighborly thing and ask them to turn it down. The thought of pounding on Josh’s front door yelling, “Turn down the damned music!” did not appeal to me. I doubt they would have heard me, anyway.

  Two: pour a glass of wine, put on my headset, and watch a Netflix movie.

  Guess what I chose?

  Chapter Six

  Sunday • June 7

  Posted by Katy McKenna

  Brunch

  * * *

  When I opened the door to greet my guests, Nina said, “Sorry we’re a little late.”

  Her niece, outfitted in an ankle-length red-flowered sleeveless muumuu, hung back on the sidewalk, clutching Baby Girl under an arm, and chatting on the phone.

  “Donna’s talking to her best friend, Michelle. Those two never seem to run out of conversation.” She sighed. “Makes me miss my best friend. Shirley. Oh, how we could gab. The two of us would lose all track of time.”

  I held the door wide and waved her in. “I know what you mean. Samantha and I never seem to run out of things to talk about.”

  Nina yelled at Donna, “I’m going in.”

  She waved. “Be there in a sec.”

  I hollered, “The door’s unlocked,” then began to shut it. I stopped when she dropped her phone into her purse and headed up the walk.

  In the entry area, Nina sneezed a couple of times. “Excuse me.”

  “Gesundheit. Gotta cold?”

  “Either that or hay fever. Hard to tell.” She tugged a tissue from her sweater sleeve to dab her nose.

  Donna stepped inside and I gave her a hug. “Good to see you again.”

  “Thank you for inviting us over.” She set down her wriggly mutt.

  Baby Girl spotted Tabitha loitering in the hall and tore after her, shrieking like a crazed banshee. I chased after and found my freaked-out cat perched on my dresser yowling at the dog. Donna entered the bedroom just in time to see Tabitha reach down and wallop Baby Girl’s snout. Score one for Tabitha!

  Glaring at me like it was my fault, Donna sat on the bed, cradling her bawling dog like an infant. “Did that nasty old cat hurt my widdle pwecious?”

  The commotion brought Daisy bursting into the house through the laundry room dog door. She beelined to my bedroom, leaped onto the bed, and shoved her nose into Baby Girl’s tush.

  “Stop that, you nasty dog,” shouted Donna, twisting away. “Leave my baby alone.”

  With the promise of a cookie, Daisy trailed me to the laundry room. I grabbed a cookie from the jar on the shelf above the washing machine and tossed it through the dog door. She followed, and I slid the cover in place. I was fuming and would have preferred to be in the back yard with my pooch, but I behaved for Nina’s sake and joined the ladies in the living room.

  “Who’s ready for a mimosa? I know I am.”

  Donna was now sitting on the sofa, still cuddling her whimpering mutt. “We could use a mimosa. Couldn’t we, Baby?”

  Nina rolled her eyes in my direction and followed me to the kitchen. “Let me give you a hand.”

  Acting jovial, I mixed a batch of mimosas in a glass pitcher, tasted it, added more orange juice, and tried it again. “Works for me.”

  Nina whispered, “I told her not to bring her dog, but would she listen?”

  “Don’t feel bad. It’s not your fault.”

  I filled a champagne flute and offered it to her, noting the slight tremble in her hand. “Are you sure you’re up to being here?”

  “Yes. I took some daytime cold medicine, but it tends to make me jittery.” She tasted her mimosa. “Mmm. Delicious. I’d better take a few more sips before walking with this, so I don’t spill.”

  The oven timer dinged, and I pulled out a sizzling frittata.

  “Oh my, that looks appetizing. What’s in it?”

  “Roasted veggies, eggs, and cheese,” I said. “It’s an old Barefoot Contessa recipe.”

  “I rarely cook these days. Usually I nuke Stouffer’s or Healthy Choice frozen meals. Donna’s been cooking since she arrived so I’m eating well.” She sneezed a few times and pulled her lavender cardigan closed. “It must be a cold. I hope you don’t catch it. Better take some vitamin C just in case.”

  “I will. Has Donna said anything about how long she’s staying?”

  Nina shook her head. “No. We better get back in there or she’s going to wonder what’s happened to us.”

  I led the way into the living room. “Here ya go, Donna. Enjoy.”

  “Thank you.” She sipped her drink. “De-lish. Baby Girl, try this.”

  “Donna? It has alcohol in it. Not sure that’s good for her.” Watching the dog slurp the cocktail, I sat on an easy chair across from the sofa.

  “She’s fine. I always share my drinks with her. Every night, we watch the evening news and drink a Jack and Coke. It’s the only way we can stomach the news.”

  “Maybe stop watching the news?”

  “I need to know what’s going on in the lower forty-eight.” Donna drained her glass and smacked her lips. “Ketchikan can feel very isolated at times. I love it there, but it’s nice to get away for a while. The weather here is glorious. I checked the forecast back home, and it’s raining all week. Ugh.” She brandished her glass and said in a baby voice, “More, please.”

  I stood. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m starving. I’m going to put the food out now. It’ll just take a minute. I’ll put the mimosa pitcher on the table so you can help yourself.”

  After setting the meal on the dining table, I refilled everyone’s glass and placed the pitcher near Donna.

  Nina yawned noisily. “I probably shouldn’t drink another mimosa.”

  “Enjoy yourself, Auntie Nina,” said Donna. “You can take a nap when we go home.”

  My neighbor sighed. “Seems like all I’ve been doing the last couple days is snooze.” She chuckled. “Maybe I’m getting old.”

  “Maybe you should get a blood test,” I said. “You know, check your thyroid, iron levels.”

  “You’re fine, aren’t you, Auntie?” mumbled Donna, through a mouthful of food. “I can only hope I’m as fit as you are when I’m your age.”

  Ha! That train has left the station. “Me, too. But still. I think it would be a good idea. You know, be proactive rather than reactive.”

  “I don’t want to make a fuss,” said Nina. “I’m sure it’s just a cold.”

  “This frittata is de-lish.” Donna shoveled a forkful into her mouth, then pushed a bite to the edge of her plate for her dog to lick up. “Baby Girl thinks so, too.”

  Chapter Seven

  Monday • June 8

  Posted by Katy McKenna

  The secret to happiness is low expectations.

  ~ Barry Schwartz ~

  I took Barry’s advice and lowered my step count to 4,5
00. But I swear I’ll add steps every week until I’m back to 10,000. Oh, who am I kidding? Probably not.

  My morning walk

  Beer cans were strewn across Josh’s lawn. I took a photo to send to him and made a mental note to pick them up after my walk. I zipped around the block and was passing by Nina’s house when I spied Mr. Snickers prowling under the bushes in the front yard.

  “Uh…oh. What are you doing out here, buddy?” I carried the docile feline to the front door and rang the bell. Donna opened the door. “Look who I found out front.”

  “You naughty cat. How did you get out there?”

  All wide-eyed and innocent, I said, “The dog door, perhaps?”

  My sarcasm was lost on Donna. She nudged open the screen door with her hip and reached for him. I tried to hand him over, but he’d attached his claws to my shirt. She drew him towards her while I disengaged each snagged nail.

  “Is Nina here?” I asked, watching the cat squirm in her firm grasp.

  “She’s napping. Let’s keep this between you and me. I don’t want to agitate her. She’s got a bad cold and—”

  “Oh. So it was a cold and not allergies?”

  “It really hit her last night. She’s old and frail, and she has a weak heart, you know.”

  No, I didn’t know that.

  “So I don’t want to take any chances. The last thing she needs is to get pneumonia again. At her age it could kill her. I’ve got her loaded up on vitamin Cs, zinc, Echinacea, and cold medicine.”

  “She’s had pneumonia in the past?” I said.

  “Yes. She has a tendency to get bronchitis and a couple times it turned into pneumonia. So we don’t want to take any chances now.”

  “Shouldn’t she go to the doctor? I’d be happy to take her.”

  “No point in that. There’s nothing a doctor can do. Antibiotics don’t work for a cold. She just needs plenty of bed rest and healthy food.”

  I shook my head. “She’s never mentioned heart trouble to me.”

  “Auntie is a very private person and likes to keep personal matters like that in the immediate family.” Donna was closing the door. “Thanks again for the lovely

  brunch yesterday. I have to get back to work now.”

  I raised my voice. “Tell Nina I’ll be by later to say hi.”

  “Will do.” Click. Lock.

  Afternoon

  * * *

  I kept my promise to drop by Nina’s. Looking as unfashionable as ever in a plaid muumuu, Donna informed me that Nina was napping.

  “Another nap?” I said.

  “With her cold, she needs all the rest she can get.” Donna bent over with a groan and picked up her dog. “Isn’t that right, Baby Girl? Auntie Nina has a nasty cold and is vewy, vewy tired and needs her nappies.”

  “Please tell her I dropped by.”

  As the door swung shut in my face for the second time today, she said, “I will.”

  I shuffled out of the yard, slamming the picket fence gate behind me. “I can’t wait for that rude woman to go home. Alaska can have her.”

  Randy called from his porch. “Are you all right, Katy?”

  “No!”

  He beckoned me over. The tattered sofa that had graced the yard for so long, now sat on the porch. The boys were lounging on it, sporting matching tie-dye shirts. A lavender-scented candle burned on a small round wood table, and a muscular brindle pit bull was wedged between them. As I approached, her beady cold gray eyes narrowed on me.

  “This is Violet.” Randy scratched her head, and she leaned into him with a happy groan. “We rescued her from the pound this morning. She’d been there for over a year.”

  Earl continued, “Yeah, her elderly owner died, and no one in the family would take her in. Can you believe that? She’s twelve, which made it even harder for her to find a home. That’s why we chose her.”

  “That was kind-hearted of you. May I pet her, Earl?”

  “Sure. She’s a big old love.”

  I reached out, wondering if I were going to lose my hand in one big chomp of her massive jaws. She leaned towards it, took a sniff, and then slurped it. I moved closer and ruffled her ears. “You’re a big old cuddle bear, aren’t you? I’m glad you have a home now.” She nuzzled my hand, and I took that as my cue to rub behind her ears. Daisy loves that.

  “Would you like a cup of green tea?” asked Earl.

  “That would be nice.” Am I in an alter-universe? Wasn’t this the guy I saw smashing a beer can on his head not too long ago? Now it’s lavender candles, green tea, and sweet old Violet.

  He uncrossed his legs and stood. “What do you take in your tea?”

  “Sugar, and don’t be stingy. I like it sweet.” Plus, I don’t like green tea.

  “We don’t have sugar. Is stevia or honey okay?” asked Randy.

  “Honey. Lots.”

  “I’ll be right back,” said Earl.

  “Why no sugar, Randy?”

  “After you pointed out how shitty, oops, sorry, our language had become, we took a long, hard look at ourselves. Our lifestyle, eating habits, choice of friends—and we realized how toxic our lives were.” He stroked Violet’s massive head. “So, we’ve got our new friend here, dumped most of the old, and we’ve taken up yoga, meditation, and healthy eating. No more sugar because it inflames our bodies and is the root of all diseases. No caffeine, alcohol, gluten, grains, meat, dairy.”

  “That’s a lot to give up all at once.” I started to sit on the filthy couch in Earl’s spot next to Violet, then thought better of it and perched on the porch railing. “So what does that leave?”

  “We now eat a healthy, plant-based diet. I feel…” Randy took a long, cleansing breath. “Fantastic.”

  I eat a plant-based diet, too. Plus sugar, caffeine, wine, gluten, grains, dairy, fish, cake, pie, cookies, ice cream, and chocolate. Did I forget anything?

  His brother returned with my tea. “Is the old lady across the street all right?”

  “Earl, her name is Nina,” said Randy. “You know that. Be respectful.”

  “Not really sure,” I said. “She’s got a cold.”

  “Who’s the fat chunker stayin’—” Earl stopped in mid sentence. “Sorry, not cool.”

  “Nina’s niece from Alaska. Donna Baxter.”

  “You don’t sound like you like her,” said Randy.

  “Not so much.” I drained my cup and slid my butt off the rail. “This has been lovely, but now I must run.” I cupped Violet’s enormous face in my hands. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you. You and Daisy will have to have a play date.”

  The boys unfurled their crossed legs and stood. My first thought was they were going to hug me, but instead, they namastéd me, and in unison said, “I bow to the divine in you.”

  Yup, I definitely had stepped into the Twilight Zone.

  Chapter Eight

  Tuesday • June 9

  Posted by Katy McKenna

  My call to Nina’s cell phone this morning immediately went to voice mail, so I dialed her landline. Of course, Donna answered.

  “What?” she said.

  Her cranky, abrupt answer ticked me off, but rather than answer in kind, I set my tone into snotty-hyper-chirpy mode. “Top o’ the mornin’ to you, Donna. It’s Katy callin’. So good to hear your cheerful voice. Gorgeous day, huh?”

  “Uh-huh. What do you want?”

  “How’s your darling Baby Girl?” Gag. Really can’t stand that name.

  That comment hit the right note and her tone softened. “She’s good.” Her voice veered away from the receiver. “Aren’t you, Baby? You’re such a good widdle girl. Yes, ooo are. You’re mama’s pwecious widdle baby.” Then back to me. “You should see her. She’s lying on her back in a sunny spot on the floor. So cute.”

  “Ahh. How adorable. Take a picture of the cutie and text it to me. How’s Nina doing? May I say hello to her?”

  “She’s taking a bath right now. Normally she doesn’t take baths because there’s
no one to help her out, so this is a real treat for her. Me? I’m a shower girl. In and out.”

  Her dog started yelping in the background. I heard a familiar thwack-thwack sound that I couldn’t place, and the barking faded.

  “Uh-oh,” she said. “Baby Girl just chased the cat out the dog door.” Click.

  I dashed to Nina’s house in case Donna needed help catching the cat. When I got to the front gate, she was coming round from the back yard. I unlatched the gate and entered the garden. “I thought you might need some help. Do you know where the cat is?”

  She pointed at an enormous blooming rose bush. “Baby Girl got him corralled under there. Good girl, Baby!

  The hysterical dog was poking her head into the bush, snapping and growling at the yowling cat.

  “Donna! If you’ll hold your dog, I’ll try to get Mr. Snickers out.”

  She lumbered over to her crazed mutt and picked her up. “Do not scare the cat away, Katy, or there will be hell to pay with Aunt Nina.”

  I couldn’t believe she’d said that to me—like it was my fault the cat was loose. Shaking my head and keeping my lips zipped, I got down on all fours and tried to coax the freaked cat to come to me. But he wasn’t having it.

  Donna pointed at the bush. “You need to get under there and grab him before he runs off.”

  “Easy for you to say,” I muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” I flattened to the ground, shimmied in close, keeping my eyes nearly shut to avoid having a thorn pop an eyeball, and reached out both arms. My hands were still several inches away from him.

  Snicker’s eyes were dilated to the point of looking cross-eyed. “It’s okay, buddy. I’m not going to hurt you.” I wriggled closer and grabbed the scruff of his neck. He struggled and scratched my arms as I dragged him out. Once free from the rosebush, I rolled onto my back, pinning him to my chest. I lay there for a moment, catching my breath.